84 Ribbons (13 page)

Marta shook out her arms and legs, then dipped the toes of her
pointe
shoes in the rosin box. No one, corps dancer or principal, ever underestimated the powdered rosin’s effect; slipping while dancing on stage could be disastrous.

“Orchestra to the pit,” came the next reminder.

From backstage Marta heard the pit fill with musicians. Music stands and chairs scraped across the floor. “A” sounded. Audience conversations hushed.

Marta inhaled, then released a long, cleansing breath. She shook out her hands again, then wrapped her arms around her waist in silence. Her heart pounded in her ears like a bass drum.

A slow crescendo of applause began, signaling the conductor’s arrival on the podium. Marta tossed her extra clothes into the basket already heaped with leg warmers, sweaters, shirts, and towels from other dancers. She pressed her hands down the sides of her lemony knee-length skirt and straightened the attached apron with its embroidered Central European motifs of arches, swirls, and flowers. All the female dancers shared that detail, creating a unifying stage presence. Male dancers carried the motif on their exaggerated sleeves and high-waisted belts.

“Places!”  The corps moved on stage and posed. Jer stood nearby at the back of the stage. He smiled at her. She lifted her chin and nodded, hoping she looked calm despite the frantic jitters that shook her insides.

The narrator stepped in front of the curtain and read his lines. After a brief applause, the orchestra began the overture of
Coppélia
. Audiences around the world enjoyed the light-hearted music and story of Swanhilda, a young girl who becomes jealous over her betrothed’s fascination with a life-size doll. Thousands of dancers before her had performed the same steps on hundreds of stages around the world. Now Marta was joining their number.

She took another deep breath as the curtain opened. With her back muscles taut, she lifted her chin and strolled across the stage as if she’d done it hundreds of times.

The stage lights blinded her. She took another deep breath as she posed, waiting for her musical cue, a low, slow tremolo of violins. Her dance career began with simple nods and pantomime to those standing near her as the principal dancers entered the stage, joining the others in the village square.

Coppélia opened with a waltz. Like the other corps dancers, Marta executed continuous balances, exaggerated leans toward her partner, and twirls that blurred like a sea of spinning pastel parasols. Her arms opened and closed as she circled and moved across the stage in perfect alignment with her fellow corps members. Her headpiece ribbons flapped against her face as she turned, but she ignored them by focusing on her footwork, her arms, and keeping to her prescribed locations on the stage.

After a series of slow, lyrical balancés and turns that encircled the principal dancers, Marta moved to her place on the edge of the village scenery to become a background presence before the dance ended. She breathed through her mouth while keeping a gentle smile on her lips. If the audience saw her heaving breaths, it would break the magical spell of the story.

The excerpt from Act II of Coppélia opened in the mechanical doll shop. Lynne and Bartley danced the role of two girls who accompanied Swanhilda as she spied on the lovely doll, Coppélia. Marta watched from the wings as the girls wound up Coppélia and the other dolls to dance brief solos before flopping forward as though their springs had expired. The audience rewarded them with chuckles, murmurs, and well-deserved applause.

Back on stage for the final excerpt, Marta waited at the back of the stage as Swanhilda and her betrothed danced. She joined the festive dancing as the happy couple walked off to be married. She felt a happiness of her own. So far the performance had gone off without a hitch; much better than their dress rehearsal when Madame shrieked at the corps and had them repeat their movements over and over and over again.

Bows and curtain calls followed as Part One ended. Everyone smiled through semi-closed lips before exiting to the dressing rooms where they could lean over to inhale deeply and catch their breath. Madame stood in the wings with her arms crossed and a scowl plastered on her face. That didn’t bode well for their next rehearsal.

During the first intermission, stagehands cleared away the sets, leaving a blank canvas that the stage designer backlit with a profusion of pastel blues, greens, and yellows. The soloists showcased scenes from a variety of ballets: Greek gods and muses from Apollo, sylphs from La Sylphides, and comedic dances from Gala Performance.

Part Two exiled Marta and the other corps dancers to the dressing rooms to keep backstage clear. They took the opportunity to get drinks of water, change into their Sleeping Beauty costumes, and adjust their make-up to less vibrant tones.

Marta stood between her friends adjusting her hairdo while enjoying a quiet moment between dances. “I’m exhausted, but I think Coppélia went well. I did see Madame standing off stage. She looked disgusted. I don’t know what bothered her.”

“I didn’t see any major mess ups,” Lynne said. “Regardless, I can now say I’ve almost soloed.”

“It all happened so fast, almost like I dreamed it,” Bartley said as she adjusted her Sleeping Beauty headpiece. “Audiences love when the dolls get wound up. It’s hard not to laugh when I’m there beside them. Maybe Madame didn’t like the tempo. It was a little slow, but that’s not our fault.”

“Well, I think you two did a super job,” Marta said. “The audience loved it, and that’s what matters.”

Lynne tugged at her bodice. “Good. But what matters most to me right now is binding my breasts down to fit into this bodice. If I could breathe I’d feel better.”

“My being a stick of celery has advantages,” Bartley said. “For dancing, not attracting guys. Marta has the best of both worlds so far: ballet slender, yet curvy.”

“Thanks, but nothing will help me dance as the witchy Carabosse.”

During the second intermission, the stagehands installed the elaborate castle sets for scenes from
Sleeping Beauty
. Every corps member had breathed a sigh of relief when Madame told Marta she’d been selected as Carabosse, the forgotten fairy. The quick change for the role had the possibility of being a backstage nightmare.

But Marta accepted the challenge as a way to prove herself to Madame. The choreography involved more walking around acting menacing than it did dancing. Even though the black costume and make-up buried her appearance, it became a solo, of sorts. Performing the quick change demanded timing and assistance. Each rehearsal went without a problem. Tonight tested her nerves and skills as she changed and then stepped before a live audience.

She began the performance on stage as a guest, waltzing at the palace celebration. In her three-minute costume change, she stripped off her costume, slipped into a tattered black dress and black wig, and slapped gray make-up on her face. On cue, she entered the stage as Carabosse to frighten the King and Queen and put a curse of baby Princess Aurora. Her feet slipped as she stepped around the fairies, but she regained her balance and continued her pantomime.

Acting menacing without being too scary demanded a delicate balance. If she scared the young children in the audience, they’d not want to return. Marta danced in circles, tempting the princess to reach for the spindle. She swept close, then moved away, using exaggerated pantomime with soft hands rather than angry ones. Princess Aurora followed; her outstretched hands grabbed the spindle. Then, as she fell into a deep sleep, Carabosse drifted off the stage.

In the wings, Marta tore off her ugly costume, scrubbed away her gray make-up with a damp towel, and scrambled into a fairy waltz gown. A dresser assisted her with the hooks while she pulled on a short wig to hide her messy hair and complete her transformation into a dainty fairy.

The
Sleeping Beauty
sampler ended as the princess awakened to the prince’s kiss. The royal court invited the fairies to join the festivities as the ballet swept to a close.

The applause from the audience rang in Marta’s ears. She stood tall alongside the other corps members, then joined them in a deep bow. Being part of the company sent a strength through her body, replacing her tiredness with a tingling energy. Another bow and another until the corps exited to the wings, allowing the principals to step forward to receive their bouquets and further applause.

After the final curtain, the soloists attended a special benefactors’ event hosted by the ballet advisory board. Corps dancers were dismissed until rehearsals tomorrow. Marta removed her make-up with cold cream, slathering her face and neck with the cold, slippery goo. Lynne and Bartley did the same.

Lynne threw a tissue at Marta. “Well, Carabosse, did you like that quick change? Feel funny about getting naked backstage?”

Marta reached for a fresh tissue. “I was too busy changing to think about it.”

“Your neck is gray mud,” Lynne said. “Bet that smudged mess looked good with the fairy gown.”

Marta startled. “Didn’t the wig cover it?”

“Not really, but you did great, Marta,” Bartley said as she passed. “Madame will notice.”

“Right. She’ll see the slip at the beginning and the mud, as if I could have avoided them.” Marta brushed out dozens of knots from her tangled hair. Her mom’s face smiled from the photo in the edge of the mirror. She imagined her mother standing beside her, watching her as she dressed to meet Steve. But that hadn’t happened. Her mom was a thousand miles away.

Most patrons had headed home by the time Marta emerged. When she left the building she saw Steve pacing the front walkway of the theater. He smiled when he saw her. “Hi, Marta.”

“Hi, yourself. Well, newspaper man, what did you think?”

“It was great; you were great,” he said as he took her hands in his. “I liked all of it. You looked strong and beautiful.”

“Really? Did you know I danced the ugly fairy in Sleeping Beauty?”

“Ah, I guess I missed that.”

Marta shook her head. “Where did you sit?”

Steve stared at her. “In the third row. Didn’t you see me?”

“No. The footlights blur the audience.”

“Huh. Come on. Let’s talk over a snack.”  As they walked to the small ice cream parlor, he locked fingers with her. She felt the tingle of dancing continue, now from their comfortable hand clasp

Once they were seated and had ordered, Marta leaned forward on her elbows and grinned. “So tell me your thoughts about your first ballet.”

“Promise you won’t get mad or anything.”

Marta drew back. “You didn’t come?”

He laughed. “Oh, I came, but I got locked out for the second act.”

Marta crossed her arms and squinted. “How on earth did you manage that?”

“Well, you know how warm it gets in the theater. I went outside to cool down after the first act. When I walked back inside, the auditorium doors were closed. The usher refused to let me back in.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. I begged and told him I represented the paper, but he didn’t care. He kept saying, ‘I’m sorry sir; there is no late seating.’ So I went back outside and waited for the next intermission. When the ranchers and townspeople stepped outside for a smoke, I returned to my seat. So, you see, I did see the parts you were in. I just missed the solos.”

Marta laughed so hard tears formed in her eyes. “That sounds crazy.”

“It was. That usher meant business. Now, could you stop laughing, please? I thought you’d see my empty seat and get mad or something. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Every time I saw you dance, you looked amazing. I watched your face when you played a peasant. You looked like you belonged in that village. And when you danced in
Sleeping
Beauty
, you looked beautiful. I didn’t miss a second of your dancing.”

“Except when I mimed the angry fairy.”

“Right. But, I watched her dance. She, you, did a great job menacing the princess. And I freely admit that I enjoyed being at the ballet.”

Marta toyed with the crumbs on her empty plate. “Do you still think ballet is fluff?”

“Yes, but wait. It’s beautiful fluff. The kind of fluff I want to see again and again.”

“But you still think it’s fluff?”

“Just the music, not the dancing. All of you are stronger than most athletes I know. How do the men lift dancers and spin so easily? And how do you stand on those
pointe
shoes and still smile?”

“Practice, practice, practice.”

“That’s why you are always so tired, isn’t it?”

Marta nodded.

Steve pulled her up. “Do you have enough energy for a drive to the lake?”

“That sounds perfect.”

At Lake Josephine they parked near the shore. Steve slid his arm across the back of Marta’s seat, grazing her ponytail. He alternately stared at Marta and looked out the front window

“You’re different tonight,” she said. ”What’s going on in your head?”

“Tonight was a wonderful surprise for me. I never thought about all the work you do to get ready to perform. Is it hard to keep all those dances straight?”

“No, each piece of music feels different. Are you writing a piece for the paper?”

“Naw. Just curious now that I understand ballet.”

“After one evening?” Marta laughed and shook her head. “Steve, you are amazing.”

“What’s your next ballet?”

“The Nutcracker. I’m certain you’ll know the music.”

“Maybe, but you might be wrong about that.” He kissed her forehead. “In the meantime, may I continue driving you to practices?”

“If you want. We’ll add weekend rehearsals with the children who dance in the Christmas party scene. I don’t expect you’d be around for them; you’re off the hook, Mr. Fluff.”

“I’ll drive you as early or as late as you like on days I can get away. Can I get Nutcracker tickets now?” he said.

Marta brushed her fingers over his clean-shaven jaw, then patted his cheek. “No. Ask your friend Miss Fluff in November. She’s a nice person even if she is a dan-cer.”

Steve captured Marta’s hand. “She’s a tease, that’s for sure.”