Cultural classic.

 Less than a week ago, Gabe finally broke down and took me to see a ballet.  MANY years ago, I wished I would grow up to be a ballerina like Pollyanna Ribeiro or Larissa Ponomarenko.  My life was consumed with ballet classes.  I had blisters on my feet from pointe shoes, a whole drawer filled with navy blue leotards and Danskin tights with holes in the bottom, and a head of hair that I’m surprised didn’t permanently mold into a tight bun.

The first and last time the two of us went to a ballet together, we were back in high school.  I got a pair of tickets to Boston Ballet‘s Romeo & Juliet for my birthday, and to my mom’s disappointment, I asked Gabe to come with me.  He was snoring by the end of the first act and I cried.  It didn’t go well.  I was determined to go see La Bayadere, my past ballet teacher’s favorite, with or without him.

We got the the Boston Opera House, built in 1901, and I was disappointed to see that, not only has the ballet relocated to a smaller house, but the last 20 rows were empty.  It got me thinking: what has happened to the ballet culture in and around Boston?  We both thought they needed a better marketing strategy.  So I guess this post is my mini ad.  The dancing was graceful and beautiful, the plot was tragic and romantic, and the Opera House was over the top elegant.

Dance has been around for so long, and it would be a shame to get so technologically focused that we loose sight of tradition and culture that has been around forever.  Now that Dancing with the Stars has taken over primetime twice a week, I don’t blame anyone for not wanting to charge the cost of ballet tickets, cab fare, and drinks at the theater.   But, something does have to be said for the enjoyment of a night out at the Boston Opera House:)