Last night, I was the lucky recipient of a ticket to the Kennedy Center to see the the New York City Ballet’s performance of “Coppelia.” My sister had purchased the ticket for herself, but due to illness in her family, she couldn’t go. While I was sad for her circumstance, I was grateful for her generous offer to let me use the ticket.

When I was twelve, my piano teacher introduced me to the music of this ballet. She had an edition of piano transcriptions of the music scored for an intermediate pianist. I remember the cover of the book with its bright colors and fairy tale-like images. I learned the waltz which you can listen to here. I loved learning it then, and had happy memories hearing it again last night.

According to Wikipedia the story of the ballet goes something like this: Dr. Coppélius is a doctor who has made a life-size dancing doll. It is so lifelike that Franz, a village youth, becomes infatuated with it and sets aside his heart’s true desire, Swanhilda. She shows him his folly by dressing as the doll, pretending to make it come to life and ultimately saving him from an untimely end at the hands of the inventor. (See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copp%C3%A9lia#:~:text=Dr.,the%20hands%20of%20the%20inventor.) It’s a silly story, but the music, set design, costumes, and dance made it a joyful evening.

Act III of the ballet (choreographed by George Balanchine) was created primarily to showcase the company, not so much to advance the plot of the story. It was such a delight for my eyes and ears. Because my ticket was for a seat I might not have afforded for myself, I had an up-close view of the dancers. I saw the joy of movement in their faces and bodies which made the evening a delightful lift to my soul.

The Pas de Deux of the principal dancers, Franz and Swanhilda, was stunning. As I watched, I could see how much strength and control was expended to achieve such grace. At one point, Swanhilda was grasping the forearm of Franz with an intensity I hadn’t observed before. I realized that from other vantage points in the Opera House, the audience might be unaware of the level of work these dancers were putting forth. They made it look effortless, but it was anything but easy. Their stamina, balance, athleticism, and grace were beyond impressive.

I remembered at that moment an idea I heard once about the importance of a “reliable” partner. In the Pas de Deux, the ballerina must hold positions while on point supported by her male counterpoint. They must practice hours and hours to build trust that can sustain the demands of the dance. It’s a lesson to me to think about the kind of partner I need to be to sustain my family in the demands of their “dance” of life. Where might I offer a hand of stability, a smile of recognition, a leg up of help, or a step back to let them shine?

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a place of safety, support, and beauty.