Mom's View: So Glad to Have Him Home

After 31 hours of travel, Isaac arrived home at almost midnight on December 23rd.  This probably sounds absurd, but I saved dinner for him.  By the time we retrieved his luggage and drove the hour home from the airport, we sat down to dinner at about 1:30 in the morning.  (I did feed the rest of the family sandwiches and what-not through the day, but the roast and homemade rolls were saved for later.)  We ate dinner, enjoyed some chatter, unpacked the essentials and hugged a bunch, then hit the hay.

Several weeks before he came home, I was instructed to not prepare noodles of any kind, hot dogs, nasty soup or hot cereal (unless it had lots of honey).  Any time I can have help choosing a menu, I welcome the input, but doing without pasta is a little tricky for a family of our size.  No matter.  It is only for a few precious days.  

We are 99% sure he'll be going back to Russia in January.  In that short amount of time, I plan on getting my next five and a half months worth of hugs in.  Sorry, son.  It must be known.  You will find me wrapping my arms around you at any random moment of the day.

I am

so glad to have him home.

Exam Week

I have a my very first ballet exam in on Thursday! Our class has been working hard and it's time to get our game on. We have been fortunate to have such a good teacher to yell and shout for the past few months, even if it is a bit upsetting. Also, I, along with a few of my classmates will be auditioning for the winter performance. I'll be doing two variations (solos) so wish me luck!

We've finally gotten some snow over here in Russia and let me tell you, it's cold here. I am still fretting over whether I am going to be able to come home since the school still hasn't given me my passport back*.

We went to eat sushi for my friends birthday and we had lot's fun! I, however, do not like sushi, but it was still fun! It was cool going.  While I was sitting there, I realized I was sitting at the table with people from all over the world: Japanese, Italian, Romanian Chinese, Belgian, American, Canadian and of course Russian. I am so fortunate to be here and experience things like this.  Truly amazing.

And now the audition:

This was one of my two solos. I was unable to film the first one sorry :(

BOOM!

Two days of classes, one day of rest, and then exam day was finally here. First off, I got my solid 8 hours of sleep. Second off, I was up at 7, stretching and warming up with a good breakfast in my belly. We were all very nervous, but we had some laughs! I'm very glad we get along so well, it makes the experience here so much more tolerable.  

Us in the hallway before exam. I hate the dark mornings.

I love dancing. I am learning how to display this so that others can feel my joy. I feel that I can display it,  but then my feet stop pointing, my jumps isn't as high, etc. That's what I've been thinking about this semester, learning the gesture of the movements, while keeping the quality of the technique high. I wouldn't say I was perfect, but I worked hard and results take patience.  I have plenty of patience to become a good dancer. Unfortunately, relationships with the other teachers are a bit bad with my teacher. One teacher saved me and convinced the other teachers to give me a passable score, I am forever in that teachers debt. I hope the other teachers will someday be fair towards my teacher and his classes. It is unfair that they score because of the way the feel towards Kuznetsov personally. However, the good thing is that we all passed and are moving on to become artists. We felt like the exam went well and our teacher was happy. We were happy. One step closer to graduating from this school. 

Our teacher is a brilliant and very good man. When I first arrived here, I did not like him but it was because I didn't understand him. I didn't understand what he wanted, what he was trying to tell our class. Even now I don't know all of what he means, but I understand some. His knowledge of ballet is incredible and I hope to someday learn all he knows. We are all so happy it's finally over. Assignment from my teacher: Read Lord of the Flies. I'm ready to sleep.

From the left: Me, Tomoya, Viktalik, Grisha, Janos, Ballet instructor, Pianist, Sergei, Rafiel and Tolik.

*They waited until nearly the last minute, but the Passport with an extended visa is now in hand.  I am going home.

Mom's View: The Teacher

If I am going to continue to be honest on this blog, than I have to write an update about Isaac's classroom experience.

Isaac's teacher, Ilya Kuznetsov, has been difficult and has pushed our boy very hard.  As you well know, I haven't always agreed with his methods, but I am not a ballet teacher . . . or dancer . . . or critic.  Frankly, everything I have learned about ballet has come since Isaac started dancing three years ago.

One consequence of having a demanding teacher is that when he does give a compliment, it feels like sunshine breaking out from behind the clouds after a long winter's storm.  One instance was after Isaac had danced a solo during class.  After the music ended, he was still down on one knee, hands raised, when Kuznetsov strode quickly to him.  Grabbing Isaac's up-reaching hand, he shook it saying, "You are crazy when you dance!  I like that!"

Another time was after a particularly difficult week, the boys were all at bar working the combinations they had been working on so diligently.  Isaac commented on the fact they the boys were totally in sync and there were moments where they looked like they were working from one mind.  It was a moment of satisfaction for a boy whose chosen path of study demands perfection.

Isaac's teacher, Ilya Kuznetsov.  Bolshoi Ballet Academy, Moscow, Russia.

The man truly loves the art of ballet.  His youtube channel is proof enough of that.  If he can bestow some of his understanding of movement and expression on my son, then it will be worth the hard words and difficult days.

Mom's View: Having Fun

Isaac is having a great experience in Russia.  Not always a great time, but certainly a great experience.  

The sheer nature of ballet, being an art of young bodies, forces the dancers to take life seriously much of the time.  They have to have the poise, determination, work ethic and fortitude of a much older person or, quite frankly, they wouldn't survive the training.  They endure pressures that would break many an adult.

That is why pictures like this make me so happy.

Play, children, play!!

Snowball to the face.

 "Look what I have prepared for you:  Snow."

Of course, they are still dancers.  

And as such, if you know one at all, dancers will dance.

Something Special

When going to see a performance no matter the art, you are going to see something special, whether it is a beautiful painting, a singer, or a dancer etc. In our classes, my teacher has been trying to beat into our sometimes uncooperative  minds that we need to show something special in our dancing, something that makes people say, "Wow, I've never seen/felt anything like that before."

The key to achieving this is making your audience feel something special. Once you can impress your teacher, the audience will be in pieces.

The technique will come with hard and smart working, most of the time. But being a true artist, is something that cannot be taught. Yes, you can copy the little tilt of the head or the gesture of your hand from your teacher, however that is not special. It's like re-releasing a film that came out 20 or 30 years ago (ahem Star Wars). Yes it was special, but we don't want to see it again, we're ready for something different!

In two weeks we have a ballet exam; it is my first. From what I've collected from other students, a ballet exam involves all of the teachers from the school coming and watching an entire class. They grade each student on a 5 point system, 5 being the highest. It is a very nerve-wracking thing and it scares me to show so many ballet experts an hour and forty minutes of my dancing.

But I came here to be challenged and it is a great challenge.

Besides most of my life dancing and learning Russian, I had a wonderful thanksgiving and am enjoying life in a big city. The metro isn't so scary anymore and nearly being hit by a car on a daily basis is becoming normal. Currently, I am preparing for Christmas time (lights, snowflake stickers on the windows, Christmas music). My friend and I are going to go see if we can find a tree that's a little cheaper then the 2 foot $60 dollar one at our grocery store. However, now I must go stretch and do my Russian Language homework. This language  better be worth it!

~Isaac


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Mom's View: The Power of One

This week was tough.  Last week was an autumn break for the Russian students (the upper grades and international students keep dancing).  Even one week off of dancing takes a toll on such carefully trained muscles, so Monday meant getting the boys back in shape.  On Tuesday, well,

**since I don't have anything nice to say, I musn't say anything at all.**

I will never understand this method of teaching.  Love and respect produces far better work than fear of a thug.  I do not want to remove difficulty from my children's lives.  In fact, I want them to learn how to deal with conflict and impossible people.  What I don't want is for my children to learn to lean on cruelty to produce results.

About this time, I got the following note from my son:

I miss church. I miss trees. I miss Rednecks. I miss Super 1. I miss late night Mountain Dew trips. I miss my room. I miss that stupid trailer. I miss Patches. I miss Americans. I miss uncles screaming about politics and conspiracy theories. I miss taste sensations. I miss pleas for George of the Jungle. I miss Sunday afternoon dinner. I miss Everything!

Many of the things he misses will only make sense to family, but you get the idea.  He was homesick and second-guessing all of his decisions.  Kuznetsov had succeeded in squashing any ego Isaac may have developed about his dancing, so even that hope and desire seemed naive.

Class was a little better Thursday and Friday, but he was till pretty down in the dumps.  Friday afternoon, he met up with two Church Education Missionaries to discuss Seminary options.  He took the metro, following their instructions, and stepped off at the indicated stop.

"It was like coming home," he said.

There they stood, a senior missionary couple, smiling and speaking English.

Elder and Sister Millar used to live in our hometown.  Justin and I knew them pretty well, but both of our parents knew them much better.  The fact that they were called to serve in Russia and precisely the time Isaac was also going to be there, was nothing less than providence.  As Sister Millar filled Isaac's hands and pockets with pumpkin cookies ("I don't know HOW she found pumpkin in Russia, but they were so good!"), they talked about Isaac's grandparents and aunts and uncles.  They then worked out a system for seminary and discussed the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  So much familiarity, delicious cookies and talking freely about the gospel worked as the Balm of Gilead on Isaac's soul.

Because of many scheduling conflicts, Isaac and I hadn't been able to talk for several days; we'd only been able to chat on Facebook for short, interrupted stints.  I knew he was struggling and, since I couldn't visit with him or go beat up his teacher, I had to put all of my faith and trust in Heavenly Father.

By Saturday afternoon, when we were finally able to Skype, the crisis had passed.

I was reminded once again that Isaac is the son of His Father, first and foremost.

Isn't it something how the words of one can do so much damage and the words of another can heal and comfort?

~Emily

**I have been asked to amend my post for the protection of the innocent.  Isaac was very quick to add that no matter what we think of his teacher's style, he could definitely see improvement in their dancing.  I still don't agree with the method, but it is hard to argue with results.

Marco Spada

Friday night I was scrolling through my Facebook for the last time after watching ballet videos with my Belgian roommate. I saw a post from one of my favorite dancers, David Hallberg.  He was inviting everyone to come see him perform at the Bolshoi Theater.

For those of you who don't know who he is, he is a principal with the American Ballet Theater (probably the best company in the USA), and the first Non-Russian dancer to dance with the Bolshoi Theater; a principal there as well. I clicked on the link and saw that Marco Spada was playing the following night at 7:30.

I asked my friend jokingly if he wanted to go with me. He said yes with a serious tone. We had heard the horror stories of getting tickets to a ballet at the Bolshoi Theater.  Getting tickets the day of was extremely difficult and the odds would not be in our favor. The only tickets that would be available the day of the show would be student tickets which are a great steal at only 100 rubles (about $3.00) but, again, very difficult to get. We had heard that we needed to get to the theater early (around 7 am) to get tickets. It was already 1 am, but we bit the bullet and set our alarm for 6:00.

When we woke we knew, we wanted to go see David Hallberg in the Bolshoi Theater. We quickly dressed and got permission to leave the academy. We arrived at the Bolshoi ticket building to find that it didn't open till 11:00. For four hours, we waited in line having had no breakfast and very little sleep to get our golden tickets. No books, music, games or anything to keep us distracted from the cold and boredom. Finally, we were in the building! 

It's no lie, Russians customer service is horrible and the workers were extremely rude!  We told  the ticket worker with our newly learned Russian words that we wanted tickets to the evening performance. Matinee has guest performers that are not nearly as good and the matinee performance is never as high quality of a performance. Plus, it didn't have David Hallberg. But no, she gave us tickets to the matinee and made us get out without another word. No use complaining; police were in the building.

We had already suffered so much and it was for nothing. But we were determined, we would somehow get tickets to that performance! We quickly went back to the dorm and showered and changed into our evening attire. We rode the metro back to the ticket building to wait in line . . . again. This time we were in the back of the line. Only 60 tickets are given for the students. From 2 o'clock, we went through the torture again. Dress clothing isn't always the warmest thing to wear and were freezing as the sun dropped at 5 o'clock. Toes were numb, nosed and ears burning, people cutting line, we almost gave up. But finally the doors opened again at 5:45 and we were in the building. We knew were going to be cutting it close and we did. We cut it very close.

We received the very last tickets to the performance!

We skipped and jumped out of that building like we had just won a billion dollars!

We went to a hot dog cart near red square and quickly got hot dogs and soda. I never ever tasted anything so exquisite in my life (we hadn't eaten yet that day)! We went to the Theater and were there at 6:30 with plenty of time. Getting into the building was easy and everyone inside was kind and thoughtful (amazing). We found our door with no trouble so we quickly hung our coats up and rented Opera Glasses

Finally, at 7:15, we walked into the Bolshoi Theater for the first time. It's a moment I will never forget. I cannot describe the beauty and richness of the theater. Nor can I completely describe the joy, love, accomplishment and happiness I felt. We found our seats and sure enough, we were in the fourth top ring, second row, last two seats. But again, that did not matter to us. We admired the beautiful chandelier and and art and golden lights as we awaited for the performance to start. (Luckily, there were some empty seats after the doors closed and we were able to change.)  After what seemed to be like forever, the lights dimmed and the live orchestra began playing.

And then, the curtain opened and I saw the Bolshoi Theater stage, the stage I felt like I almost knew from watching many many videos of performances on it. We sat in awe as we saw the dancers gracefully and beautifully glide across the huge stage. We saw not only David Hallberg, but many of the dancers I have seen so many times in my ballet video addiction. They are so much better live then they are in video. The dancers who were not playing the lead parts were just as good as the principals! Truly amazing.

It was fortunately a long ballet at 3 acts and we got to see several male solos and, let me say, I have never seen better dancing in my life.

My friend and I agreed we couldn't find one mistake throughout the entire performance.

From anyone.

It was simply perfect. That isn't something we as dancers say very often when criticizing a performance. Especially a 3 act Ballet!

After 3 hours of bliss, the curtain closed and the audience began clapping. The audience clapped for a very long time, the dancers came out at least 7 or 8 times to bow. By the last time they came to bow, many people had left, and  the backstage had already cleaned up the instruments and the ushers had finished picking up garbage. But the last 1/8 of the audience didn't want it to end. It was wonderful to see how much the people love and respect their ballet dancers. David Hallberg even waved at my friend and I one of the times! But finally it was over and it was time to go home.

It is over, but we don't want to leave!

After the performance we came back to the academy to find the doors locked. We waited banged on doors until we finally got inside. The housemothers gave us 5 raw hot dogs, and juice before we went to bed. It was a perfect ending, to an incredible day.

Isaac and Janos after watching ballet perfection:
David Hallberg!!