giving the story behind some of the music that I’ve collected for
ballet classes. All the pieces are on Studio Series Vol. 4 published by RAD
Christmas picture quiz: What London landmark is pictured left? Click on the pic for answer.
Waltzes for ballet class have a number of inherent problems (see? I told you this would be a recurring theme).
- They are nearly all one-in-a-bar, so if anything steppily significant happens on any other beat, the chances are the beat won’t be there in the music to support or give impetus to it
- They are nearly all effectively in 6/8, and hence tend to waddle and sway (which is why people in Bierkellers sway inanely from side to side). Not much use if you want something to happen on 2, 4, 6 & 8 as well as 1,3, 5 & 7.
- They tend (and indeed, are intended to) convey the kind of Gemütlichkeit you’d feel if you were an upperclass Austrian in the 19th century. Not much use if you want to be a swashbucklng pirate or contemplate a crime passionel while you jump.
- They are subject to so many formal constraints that it’s difficult to depart from well-worn harmonic paths
That’s why this dance with mandolins from Prokofiev’s Romeo & Juliet is such a wonderful piece. It’s in 3 and in 8 bar phrases, but it avoids all of the problems I’ve noted above. Best of all, Prokofiev’s harmonic language creates moods and emotions which (excuse the pun) strike a chord, but at last, after all that waltz schmalz, it’s a different damn chord.
There’s something so clean and edgy about this music, to play it is like opening a window, or taking off a layer of clothing on a hot day. Suddenly, a sissonne isn’t just a sissonne, it’s a gesture, part of a story. This music gives dignity and style to steps, and to the dancers dancing them – and what more could you ask of dance music?