EditorSpeak | July 2010
By Cheryl Ossola and Karen White
The ABCs of Image
I hear a lot of talk about professionalism these days. I doubt I could find a dance teacher or school owner who doesn’t claim to have the training, experience, credibility, and expertise that we associate with being a professional. But even when you’ve got all those attributes, you need one more thing: presentation. If you make yourself look careless or uninformed—or even worse, uneducated—you’ve blown that professional image to smithereens.
What’s provoked this line of thought is a YouTube video that was all over Facebook not long ago, being widely ridiculed. Its title? “Grand battma.” That’s right—someone who claims to have enough expertise not only to teach but to produce a video demonstrating ballet technique—specifically grand battement—doesn’t even know how to spell the term. (As of press time the video was no longer on the site, but I did find another one posted by a similarly spelling-challenged person, called “jazz grande batma.”)
Maybe some dance teachers would shrug and say, “Nah, I can’t spell—but who cares? I’m a darn good teacher.” Who cares? Plenty of people. I’m not talking about typos; I mean inexplicable, gross errors that raise questions and eyebrows about someone’s ability, mistakes like “battma” instead of “battement.” That’s no slip of the fingers on the keyboard. And maybe, if you spell it that way in a handout for parents, they won’t know the difference—until, that is, their kids become complete bunheads and spend hours poring over ballet books and websites and discover its correct spelling. What would those parents think of your professionalism then?
Admittedly, I’m sensitive to these things—I’m an editor, after all—but spelling and its nasty companion, grammar, are critical, visible parts of a professional image. Would you go to a doctor who can’t spell “encephalitis” or a lawyer who stumbles on “jurisprudence”? How would you feel if your child’s high school math teacher sent home a note asking you for a “conferance”—spelling it that way not once but twice, so you know it’s not just a slipup? Sure, he teaches math, not English, but wouldn’t you begin to doubt whether he’s a good teacher?
Correct spelling of dance terms is only a click away, at abt.org/education/dictionary/index.html. Or keep a copy of Gail Grant’s Technical Manual and Dictionary of Classical Ballet on your desk. If your grammar is shaky, find a word whiz to double-check anything you write that will be read by students, parents, or prospective customers. And if you work in Microsoft Word, use its spell-check function—but with the understanding that its grasp of grammar is about as good as a 2-year-old’s. It can alert you to potential problems, but don’t assume it’s right. Look them up.
By the way, aside from its misspelling, the “grand battma” video itself came under a huge amount of fire, and rightfully so. But that’s a rant for another day. —Cheryl Ossola, Editor in Chief
Best of Both Worlds
Hello, fellow dance teachers. I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I am to be the latest editor here at Dance Studio Life. It’s as if my two worlds have collided in the very nicest of ways.
My trajectory in dance followed a very typical path—years in a local studio lovin’ dance, but being pushed into a “real career” by parents and teachers who couldn’t be faulted for seeing only what my body could (or could not) do and for not seeing into my heart. “But you’re such a good writer!” everyone said, which led to 25 years of newspaper reporting and editing, plus plenty of freelance magazine and public relations work.
But I never left the studio, either, continuing to teach and take class. By day I was a writer of stories about wastewater treatment plants and bone-headed school committee decisions; by night, a dance instructor who could wrestle any class of “terror tots” into abject submission. People would ask, “What are you?” and if I answered one or the other, it felt odd, like an animal that doesn’t know if it’s fish or fowl.
But now, I realize where that schizophrenic career was leading—to a journalism job that’s all about dance. Dance all day, and dance all night! It may not be 32 curtain calls after Giselle, but it’s a triumph in my own little world. Cheers! —Karen White, Associate Editor
Higher-Ed Voice | Voices of Experience
College graduates on the value of a degree to a career in dance
By Joshua Bartlett
There is no dearth of university programs that cater to dancers. Nearly every state in the union offers students a chance to complete a four-year degree with a dance major. These days more dancers than ever seem to be pursuing college studies to lay a foundation in the arts. But once you’ve got that BA degree, will you get a J-O-B?

Gabrielle Ruiz, here in an unidentified rehearsal, trained in musical theater at Oklahoma City University and is now on the road with the national touring company of A Chorus Line. (Photo courtesy Gabrielle Ruiz)
It’s a common question in any career field, but it’s particularly so in dance. Lots of dancers don’t go the college route—either they can’t afford it or they want to jump into their careers early—and some of them prosper. So before saying goodbye to the $40,000 a year that college can cost these days, it’s natural for an aspiring dancer, choreographer, or teacher to wonder how well a college program will prepare her for a job in the field. Some recent grads shared their stories of life in the post-college dance world.
Case studies: from college to career
Kate Walker, who graduated from Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle with a BFA degree, has pursued a career that is not atypical of a lot of dance majors: She combines teaching, choreographing, and performing. Now based in Dallas, she performs primarily with Dallas Black Dance Theatre’s second company. But in her senior year at Cornish, she discovered that teaching was as enjoyable as dancing. “I didn’t know if I wanted to do it, but I got addicted the minute I walked into the studio,” says Walker. “Now I teach mainly adult and teen classes from beginner to advanced levels. I like teaching concepts of dancing in a healthy way so you can enjoy the art. I want to make it a positive experience for everyone.”
At Emory University in Atlanta, Irfana Jetha took on a heady double major—dance/movement and international studies with a focus on political economy. “At Emory, the program is so small that they can concentrate on showing you the possibilities of what you want to do in art,” says Jetha, who did an internship as assistant company manager for The Suzanne Farrell Ballet at the Kennedy Center while still in college. Then, after graduating in 2007, she was hired as the coordinator for Atlanta Ballet’s Kids in Step Program, which brings schoolchildren from around the region to attend daytime performances of the company’s repertoire. Recently she moved to New York to explore her opportunities as a dancer and an arts administrator.
A 2005 graduate of Barnard College in New York City, Ana Kielson majored in English literature and minored in dance and Russian. “I knew I needed an arsenal of skills to be prepared for anything that came my way, dance related or not,” says Kielson. “I knew I wanted to dance, so that was a last hurrah for academics.” Since entering the field, she has engaged in a grab bag of jobs: dancing with PearsonWidrig DanceTheater, teaching at Skidmore College, apprenticing with Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company, working at the Dance Theater Workshop box office in Manhattan, choreographing her own pieces, archiving films for the Merce Cunningham company, writing grants for dance companies, and publishing a “zine,” a low-budget magazine for dancers and choreographers. Both the pedigreed Barnard name and the writing and thinking skills required at the school prepared her in a way that opened doors and enabled her to do such varied work.
Gabrielle Ruiz, however, seemed destined for a musical theater career when she found Jo Rowan’s theatrically oriented program at Oklahoma City University. After graduating with a degree in dance performance, she headed to New York and found an agent. She is currently traveling with the national touring company of A Chorus Line. Fittingly, as the feisty Puerto Rican character Diana Morales, she sings “What I Did for Love.” “I wasn’t even one of those competition kids,” says Ruiz. “At the university, I improved my technique and learned how to audition, how to survive, how to talk to an agent, how to create a resume, what happens if you get injured, what the options are. It’s a hard school; it’s exhausting. But you learn how much you love this business.”
One of the quirkier student/career trajectories is that of Orlando native Lauren Fadeley, who joined New York City Ballet at the tender age of 16. During her second year of dancing with the company, she broke her foot. “I suddenly realized I couldn’t dance forever and I needed a backup plan,” says Fadeley. She enrolled in Indiana University’s ballet department at the Jacobs School of Music at 18 and graduated in May 2007 with a BS in dance with a minor in kinesiology. Then last year she was hired as a member of Pennsylvania Ballet’s corps de ballet. “I’m 22, back in the professional world, and feel like I never skipped a beat,” says Fadeley. “And I have a college degree on top of it.”
Grading the college programs
As for the preparation the students received, most of the schools were given high marks in efficacy. Kielson, who had previously concentrated on contact improvisation, appreciated the diversity of the training at Barnard. “I received a ton of dance training I hadn’t had before, like Limón, Taylor, and Graham techniques,” says Kielson. “It made me less judgmental.” Yuriko, a noted former Graham dancer, set reconstructions of Steps in the Street and Celebration for Barnard’s student performances.
More dancers than ever seem to be pursuing college studies to lay a foundation in the arts. But once you’ve got that BA degree, will you get a J-O-B?
Walker liked the way that Cornish College of the Arts gave her a new perspective on physicality. “I don’t necessarily have the body of a dancer, was never turned out or flexible. Cornish taught me how to use what I have and use the best of it,” she says. As someone who was always challenged by talking to people, she says, “Cornish addressed the networking aspect. Kitty Daniels [chair of the dance department] taught a senior seminar class in preparing for dance in the real world.”
Fadeley enjoyed returning to an educational environment after her stint at New York City Ballet. “It was nice to go to class with people who don’t know anything about ballet,” she says. In addition to studying anatomy and physiology, which helped her understand the body’s mechanics, she danced lead roles in Balanchine ballets like Allegro Brillante and Who Cares? She learned Sonatine from the role’s creator, famed former ballerina Violette Verdy, a professor at Indiana University.
Making a match
Seeking out a college curriculum that fits your needs is essential. Jetha, who grew up with a ballet background, says that the Emory program concentrated on modern dance and offered very little ballet. Because her ballet technique was strong, it didn’t affect her as much as others who needed more technique. Ruiz says the Oklahoma program could have offered more street jazz and hip-hop, although some modern dancers showed up expecting to see more contemporary classes. And before Michael Vernon took over as the director of the department at Indiana University, Fadeley felt that a stronger emphasis was needed in preparing dancers for the audition process.
Transitioning
Naturally, life in academia doesn’t prepare you for everything in the professional world. “The people at Cornish want the best for you so you can succeed,” says Walker. “That’s not always the case when you audition or get into a company. I had to learn to deal with people who don’t have my best interests at heart.”
After graduation from Emory University, an academically rigorous school that emphasizes volunteer work, Jetha learned the pragmatic side of business. “I was responsible for my own program with Kids in Step,” she says. “I figured out how to run a budget—number stuff. That’s the experience you gain from conducting business, everyday interaction. How can I make this better?”
In Fadeley’s experience at New York City Ballet, she often learned a ballet and then performed it the following night. “We would spend months rehearsing a ballet in Indiana,” she says. “In the real world that’s not realistic.”
Perhaps most pointedly, Kielson says, “The professional world is not a meritocracy. I knew that on an intellectual level, but now I’m really experiencing that and keeping the perspective. You don’t get a grade working for other people. Sometimes they need someone 6 feet tall or a dancer of color. It has nothing to do with working hard or technique. Nothing prepares you for that.” Still, as her boyfriend reminded her, no one could ever steal her ability to dance. “I never realized that in school. It’s not like someone took your violin away,” she adds.
Weighing the cost
The costs of college today, as everyone knows all too well, can run high. So a student needs to weigh her love of dance against the wage-earning potential of a dance degree. The dancers interviewed for this article agreed that their degree was worth the price. Some got financial support from their families; others are still paying for it. “Oklahoma City University is an expensive private school and I realize that my loan payments are now due,” says Ruiz. “Words like ‘forbearance’ are hard to hear.” On the other hand, Fadeley, now debt free from tuition payments, had been able to save all her wages at NYCB while she lived in the School of American Ballet dormitories as a teenager.
Parents are sometimes wary of their child’s dance career aspirations, but a college degree can help cushion the fear of spawning a starving artist. “My father had a tough time knowing my life wouldn’t always be financially secure, but my parents helped me out in every way they could,” says Walker. “Now they always travel to see me dance.”
Jetha’s parents of Indian heritage grew up in East Africa. “I come from an immigrant family, so they were concerned about how I was going to support myself,” says Jetha. “But they supported me through college.”
College = options
As for their fellow students, many of the dancers went into other areas of dance, like running their own schools or dancing in Las Vegas revues or joining NBA dance teams. Others pursued alternative careers: physical therapists, nurses, casting agents, or makeup artists at Nordstrom department stores.
As with any training in the dance world, a college education can be viewed as a tool to help you in your career and life. “You have to be honest with yourself about what you want and be open to defining what it is you’re doing,” says Kielson. “Some dancers think that if they don’t get a job with Mark Morris, they won’t be a dancer. That’s ridiculous. I know the most brilliant dancers that you don’t see at Lincoln Center. Don’t have too many expectations about what your career should be.”




