FROM CARABANCHEL TO ALL OVER THE WORLD

My faithful companion Bruno in the living room of our house in Carabanchel.

 

We moved into our current house when I was eleven. I remember dancing in the empty living room before we moved anything in, while my mother painted the walls. If you had told me twenty-four years ago that that same living room, now full of furniture and memories, would also become a ballet studio for classes that would reach practically all corners of the world, from France to New York, Italy, Ireland, Portugal, the United Kingdom. As well as a virtual rehearsal room for professional companies, such as the Johannesburg Ballet in South Africa, I would simply think that you had gone mad or were taking the mick. 

This may sound like a farewell, but it's not by any means. It's more like the end of the prologue, in a book that is yet to be written. Doors, paths and avenues have opened that we are now able to use, develop and improve upon so that we can connect, share and extend our vision and knowledge to our medium.

This week I have finished a large block of online classes that, strangely, at the start of the pandemic, I originally did not want to start, despite there being several proposals. Between the self-quarantine in my room when I returned to Spain, the uncertainty and bad news, my mind and body just did not feel able to face such a big challenge. Yes, there are times when we don't feel capable, when the self-imposed responsibility makes our legs shake, when we hesitate, or when we simply need more time to get started, and that’s ok. We are human, and each one of us has our own internal time. It is not mandatory to be busy all the time; stopping, breathing and doing nothing is allowed, and can be just as necessary as doing. Sometimes it’s important not to think, and to escape our mechanical routines.

It wasn't until July that I felt able to put myself at the service of others again. My great fear was that the internet would not be able to transmit the energy, positivity, joy and heart required (my best tools when facing the classes of the professional ballet companies where I work), but the internet performed its’ magic and since then I have not stopped. It's been a lot of fun. I've seen cats scurrying away scared as they pass near a grand battement, oblivious family members who unknowingly burst into improvised studios, brothers who continue to play video games whilst their sister is taking class next to the cables, I've given corrections while muted and I even think my dog, at times, has wondered whether I have lost my mind as he watches me speaking in another language and making strange movements that he has never seen me do before.

It is clear that this has purely been a way to survive. It’s not at all healthy in terms of the necessary requirements when it comes to exercising the body. We require: a good floor, barre, privacy, tranquillity, space, etc, and I have no doubt that this practice will bring tics and habits that we will have to get rid of once the situation has normalised. However, it has equally brought many new and positive things. In my case, I have faced several classes of seventy people, one hundred and forty eyes, all visiting my small living room in my house, in Carabanchel, all at the same time. In addition, I have discovered a way of venting, through writing, whilst it was impossible to go out for a drink with my friends. I have given classes to dancers who were my colleagues, who I still admire enormously. I have been invited to talks and interviews, and now, I am even choreographing online. Of course, life continually surprises us and provides adventures that are previously unimaginable, and although we may not be able to control them, it is in our hands how we interpret them and how we can adapt to make them work in our favour.

In the end, I have so much to be grateful for, starting with my neighbours who have not once complained about my voice accompanying various piano melodies, all the dancers who have allowed me to enter their homes and those who have chosen to enter mine. Those who have smiled at my bad jokes in class, and those who have performed their exercises whilst imagining they’re on the stage of the Bolshoi Theatre, from their living room, wearing their imaginary Swarovski jewellery. This practice, in one way or another, is here to stay. Changing the sofa around and playing Tetris with the living room furniture, if that's what it takes, we'll leave that for another time.