Balanchine used to compare his dancers to race horses and himself to a veterinarian. Like horses, dancers are fast and strong. Dancers are often beautiful to watch, yet sadly have short careers. Dancers have to be in top form in order to do the job, and we have to remain focused and keep our blinders on.

 

The years of work it takes to become a ballet dancer mold our bodies from a young age. Over the years, dancers' bodies become strong and our legs remain perpetually turned-out, making us walk like ducks. We learn to present our chests proudly, like turkeys, and many have swan-like necks. We are encouraged to fly through the air like a bird and to land like cats. Balanchine often said of his own cat, Mourka, that she trained him how to teach, showing him that anything was physically possible.

Giovanni Villalobos in Company class. Rose Building Studio #2. November, 2006.

Balanchine's dancers showed him this same fearlessness. They surprised him with the impossible, and in so doing, became his pets. They even had pet names. Merrill Ashley was "Mosquito," because she was fast and bounced around and Peter Martins was "Danish Blue Martini."

 

I have taken acting classes at the Lee Strasberg Theatre Insitute for the last six years. In Strasberg's "Method," actors use the animal exercise as a means of transformation. They learn how to implement it in character development to move differently than they normally would. They stand differently. They present themselves differently. As a ballet dancer, it was second nature for me. I'd  been doing it since I was 11 years old.

 

Actors use this animal adjustment exercise for an on-the-spot transformation, while the change in dancers is permanent. There is no unlearning the training we've had since such a young age. It makes us who we are, our own unique breed.

 

View the photos from Creatures