Dance Ethnography

My first introduction to the art of dance was an experience I will never forget. I was three years old and my aunt took me to see the Nutcracker. The production was being staged at Chrysler Hall, but I called it the "dancers ' house" at that age. The drive to the theater wasn 't long yet it seemed to take years to get there. Eventually we arrived at the dance hall and walked into the grand foyer. The pristine marble floor, the distant smell of concessions practically beckoning me to them, the red velvet carpeted stairs leading higher floors, the hushed murmurs of the crowd waiting in their seats. My three year old brain nearly exploded due to sensory overload. Finally, we ascended the stairs and reached our balcony seats that gave me the perfect view of the

The show 's choreography and performance quality were so spectacular that the drama and intensity rocked my petite stature down to the core. After the show ended, I demanded to be signed up for dance classes; my first class was later on that year. Initially, it was a singular introductory ballet class, then it soon became three, then five, and ultimately seven dance class by the time I was seven years old. Seven hours of every week were devoted to dancing and I loved every second of it. As I got older my passion for dance continued to grow until I received a very rude awakening from a very rude Russian Pointe teacher. An astounding dancer with a terrible personality is a benevolent description of my dastardly teacher. Mrs. Volkov demanded respect from everyone while she degraded them all at the same time. She was especially harsh towards her dance students and always pushed us past our physical and mental limits without