Ballet4Lifer of the Month- July 2021

We have an especially poignant story from dancer, playwright, actress, Claire Sara. She is the featured Ballet4Lifer for the month of July and her recollections, directions, goals, and joie de vivre shines through brightly and paints a most inspirational tale we can all be moved by. Thank you, Claire, and enjoy this, to  all of our readers.

I started dancing when I was six. I remember my first end of year ballet concert like it was
yesterday. We performed "Aladdin," and I was cast as a very enthusiastic little gold nugget from
the magic cave.

I suppose dancing was my first vehicle of creative expression. It seems most people who knew
me as a child are able to recall (in rather quite a lot of detail) memories of my dancing and
performing.

I reunited with a primary school friend a few years ago, who fondly recounted a choreographed
dance I had performed for my class called “Candy Girl” - at the end, he remembers me
showering my adoring audience with boiled sweets. I was also known to appear in either a
bright yellow tutu or my mothers wedding dress whenever my parents had guests or my siblings
had play dates. If it was the latter, I spent a considerable amount of time locked in the upstairs
study in said tutu so that said siblings could play on the trampoline in peace. Such an act simply
resulted in me being self-cast as Rapunzel or some other tragic damsel and the show would
simply go on, irrespective of a willing audience.

When I was eleven, one of my siblings passed away under very tragic circumstances. My
mother took my sister and I out of school for two years. Ballet became my refuge, and my three
weekly classes were my escape from a home crippled by grief.

I was quite convinced by that point that I wanted to be a ballerina. Despite my wildly extroverted
nature, I always found the discipline of ballet to be very centering. It was for me (and still
remains) a form of mindfulness, and a place of stillness.

But despite working very hard, I was never one of my ballet teachers ‘special girls’, I desperately
wanted to be, and the fact that I wasn’t, was deeply felt.

Once I started high school, I took a drama elective. There, my drama teacher thought I was
marvelous, and I knew it, and after discovering the joy of writing and performing a monologue, I
was ready to throw in the towel on ballet altogether. My mother managed to convince me to
continue for a few more years, but my confidence as a dancer slowly dwindled away. By the
time I had finished high school, I had largely given up dancing altogether although I deeply
regretted doing so.

Fast forward to early 2019, I moved to London from New Zealand and was living in Chiswick.
One day I drove past St Peter’s Hall and saw the ‘Ballet 4 Life’ signage. At the time, I was
recovering from being burnt out from show-business life or lack thereof in a small country with a
struggling arts economy.

A few months prior to moving to London, I had written a list of things I would do differently if I
could go back to my teenage years. I had made a promise to myself to action all of the things on
the list, - ‘don’t quit ballet’ was the only thing on that list that hadn’t been redeemed. Having
started my own production company back in NZ and written and produced several works, I’d
worked with dancers and choreographers but the idea of ever dancing again myself seemed
impossible.

Actually it seemed absurd, especially considering I had a serious hip injury. My physio at the
time, however, happened to have worked with Cirque du Soleil, and was convinced I could
recover without surgery, and even encouraged me to go back to ballet.

Returning to ballet after all those years, really was something else. I often marvel at the magic in
the room at Ballet 4 Life, imagining how many ex-dancers, or wannabe dancers, have made that
journey through the doors at St Peter's or Arts Ed. Taking that step, no matter what the
backstory, really is crossing a threshold. If you made it over, I salute you. The vulnerability that is
required for such a step is momentous. If you haven’t made it over, and you can’t quite do it for
yourself, then do it for the people watching you. Your children, your grandchildren, your friends,
your colleagues. There is nothing quite like seeing someone pick up a broken dream, or give a
hidden dream its time in the sun. And as for looking absurd, thankfully being terrible at
something, is remarkably good for one’s character.

Claire in 2019 in our Summer Dance Intensive Week 

And let me assure you, on the side of the doors at Ballet 4 Life, there is a sacred ground that
has been cultivated with great care by Donna and her team. It is very, very safe there.
Fortunately that sacred ground managed to weave its magic through my laptop screen during
2020 when Covid-19 hit. Prior to the pandemic, I’d had a full year of exciting projects and
wonderful opportunities as a producer and a writer ahead, and come March 2020, I suddenly
found myself alone in my apartment, with a diary full of cancelled contracts. It was like being
locked in the upstairs study again. But thanks to Donna and her dedicated team, ballet once
again became my refuge, a welcome escape amid devastating circumstances.

My business partner bravely moved to London from New Zealand mid lock down, so thankfully I
ended up with a barre buddy to see me through the last weeks of winter. We’re loving being
back in the studio.

Claire with her Barre buddy/Business Partner- hard at work in our classes on Zoom

Thank you Donna for the incredible work that you do, for the safety of your gaze, and creating a

place for broken dreams to be reborn. It’s an honour to know you and witness your contribution
to dance.

Donna says: I read this this morning and was literally moved to tears. I feel the direct positive impact of sharing gifts we have with others, and how we can all help to facilitate joy and healing for people in our lives, on any level, whether by means of small or large gestures. Give freely and be grateful for each day!  Thank you all!