(This article originally appeared on Oberon’s Grove in 2008. I’ve brought it forward to the Glade as it’s about an especially meaningful period of my life.)
When I was twenty-five I fell in love with a 17-year-old kid who spent his summers working for a small ballet company, Dance Theatre of Cape Cod. He invited me to spend a summer with him there; we would live in a room in a big house in Harwichport across the street from the studio.
Within a week after we got there, he was totally immersed in the ballet. They were mounting COPPELIA at the end of the summer; he was dancing Franz and also was the business manager for the school. He and Helen, the woman who ran the program, were very close. I could see that I was going to be playing second fiddle to COPPELIA all summer.
At this point in my life, I had never seen a ballet performance; just tidbits on TV. I was a big opera fan, but whenever there was a ballet in an opera performance I was bored to death.
The studio was located behind (and connected to) the Harwichport Town Library, directly across the street from the house where we were staying. So, the music of COPPELIA wafted over from the studio, and that drew me there. When I first walked into the studio I was much intrigued by the musty smell of old costumes that were hung out to air, and the girls (ages 8-16) were dazzled to have a man watching them. They became giggly and adorable.
The teacher eyed me with the sort of interest that small-time ballet mistresses have eyed young men for decades: could she transform me into a “dancer”? She had TJ to play Franz, she had a local actor to play Doctor Coppelius, and the boyfriend of one of the girls to play the Mayor. She wanted very much to have another male in her production, especially to pique the jealousy of the rival ballet school a few miles away.
“I’m planning to stage a little folk dance in the third act,” she said to me. “Would you think about it? I’ll make it easy for you…” TJ was poking me in the ribs, “Say yes!” She played the piece for me: it would be myself and one of the girls; the music (which Balanchine uses for the Jesterettes) was bouncy and the piece was short. Realizing that if I didn’t join in I would be seeing very little of TJ all summer, I said OK.
Then came the clincher: I had to take class. This gave me pause, but only for a minute. I was slender then, and in reasonably good shape. We drove to a small dance supply shop in Hyannis where TJ helped me get a dance belt, tights and slippers.
My first class was a riot. The beginners class, 8- and 9-year-olds, were thrilled to have a man in their class. They all wanted to stand next to me at the barre. When we began tendus, the teacher waltzed up to me and said: ” Point your foot!” to which I replied “Point my foot…at what?”
The studio had a ghost, Ada, who we contacted nightly using a Ouija board. She was a nurse who told us she had cared for soldiers returning home after World War I. How she ended up in a dance studio was never revealed. (I have since found out that the building did indeed house recuperating soldiers upon their return from Europe!)
I found that I had a natural affinity for ballet, not that I would have guessed. I began rehearsing my dance; my partner was a beautiful black-haired 14-year-old named Elaine. We got on perfectly. We played a betrothed couple who danced at Swanhilda’s wedding fete. Elaine was light and springy so the lifts were easy.In the dance, she did most of the work. Lots of stomping and romping. The piece ended with me on one knee; I reeled her in from some turns she was doing, she sat on my other knee and we smooched.
Above: only known photo of me wearing tights…with my partner Elaine Aronson, a talented 14-year old.
Costumes…I wore a blue satin vest, white tights and shirt, and blue suede boots. Elaine wore a white “peasant” dress with red character shoes and flowers in her hair. One of the mothers did my makeup. We had 3 performances, and our dance was a hit. One night one of Elaine’s friends tossed her a bouquet when we were bowing. Little kids asked us for our autographs.
After that summer TJ and I moved to Hartford; eventually we split up. I continued taking class for about 3 years. Whenever I hear the music of COPPELIA I’m transported back to that sweltering studio and that care-free time.
Beth Taylor had danced Swanhilda in our performances; the following winter she danced the Sugar Plum Fairy in another company’s NUTCRACKER. TJ and I drove down to the Cape in wintry weather to see her; aside from Beth several of the kids who had been in COPPELIA were dancing in the NUTCRACKER.
TJ took this picture of me & Beth after the show; it was the last time I ever saw her, or any of the other people I’d spent my memorable summer with.
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