What’s the point(e) of ballet? - Ming Luke
A baby cursed at birth.
A fierce battle of good and evil.
A true love awoken with a kiss.
Sleeping Beauty is one of the world’s
favorite folktales.
But one of its most famous renditions
tells the story without a single word.
Since premiering in 1890,
"The Sleeping Beauty" has become
one of the most frequently staged
ballets in history.
So what makes this piece so beloved?
And what exactly does ballet bring
to this— or any other story?
At the heart of ballet
are dozens of gestures
that dancers painstakingly perfect
over thousands of hours of practice.
This unique set of gestures
has been used for centuries,
each movement rich with meaning
and history.
But you don’t need to study them
to understand ballet,
any more than you need to study
music to be moved by a song.
And just as composers combine notes
and phrases to form pieces of music,
choreographers string these gestures
together with new movements
to form expressive combinations.
Working alongside the orchestra’s
live score,
ballerinas precisely perform these
combinations to convey narrative,
emotion, and character.
In "The Sleeping Beauty’s" opening scene,
a flurry of techniques depicts
the fairy court
bestowing gifts on baby Princess Aurora.
The Fairy of Generosity
delicately walks “en pointe”—
meaning on the tips of her toes—
in step with the light plucking
of violins.
The ballerina moves in perfect harmony
with the music,
even mimicing the violins’ trill
with an elegant bourrée.
The Fairy of Temperance, bestowing
the gift of strong will on Aurora,
is choreographed as if shooting bolts
of electricity from her fingers.
She bounds across the stage,
spinning with quick chaînés
before decisively jetéing.
Some movements are even more literal
than this.
The evil fairy Carabosse curses
the princess with a lethal “X,”
and the benevolent Lilac Fairy
counters that curse.
Of course, the relationship
between music and movement
isn’t always this straightforward.
While classical ballet gestures
often respond to musical elements,
the degree to which the dancers
and orchestra align
is another choreographic tool.
Some characters and scenes move
in sync to create rhythmic clarity,
while others deliberately diverge
from the orchestra.
Dancers and musicians maintain
this delicate balance
throughout each performance,
engaging in a live negotiation
of speed and rhythm.
But prior to the performance,
a ballet’s most important relationship
is between the choreographer
and the music.
Choreographer Marius Petipa
and composer Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
worked together on every second
of "The Sleeping Beauty."
This is particularly noticeable
in Princess Aurora’s exuberant entrance
on her 16th birthday.
Tchaikovsky’s enthusiastic music
tumbles forward in fits and starts,
even cutting short some musical
phrases to capture her impatience.
Petipa choreographs Aurora bouncing
back and forth with “pas de chat”—
French for "cat steps"—
as she waits for her party to begin.
Once the celebration starts,
it’s up to the dancers to deliver
on the physical spectacle of performing
these gestures with grace.
Aurora has the hardest part of all:
her famous Rose Adagio.
As four suitors vie for her hand,
the Princess performs a dizzying array
of balances, all en pointe.
She briefly takes each suitor’s hand,
but then balances unassisted—
a breath-taking display
of physical strength and skill.
However, it’s not just technique
that carries meaning,
but also style and personality.
Like an actor delivering their lines,
ballerinas can execute their movements
to convey a wide range of emotion.
Aurora can be elegant and restrained,
throwing her arms in independence
from her suitors.
Or she can be coy and flirtatious,
descending from en pointe with grace
and knowing confidence.
"The Sleeping Beauty" offers a showcase
for so much of what ballet can do.
Its graceful spectacle,
dramatic physical vocabulary,
and enchanting coordination
of music and movement
perfectly reflect the themes
of this fantastical romance.
But ballet isn’t just for epic fairytales.
Ballets can be non-narrative
emotional journeys,
experimental deconstructions of form,
or pure demonstrations of skill.
The artform is always experimenting
with a centuries old set of rules,
making it the perfect medium
for stories old and new.
