Alan Foster (UK)
They say you are never too old to learn, and this is an expression most dear to my heart.
Reason being, I took my first ballet class at the ripe old age of nineteen. I was brought up in England, and aged 15 I became interested in body bopping and improvised in my bedroom. A little later, having cut loose in one or two school discos, I realised that moving to music was not only a good deal of fun but also a great way to show off and get noticed.
At nineteen I saw my first ballet: Swan Lake, the Northern Ballet Theater. But I wasn’t in the audience. I was on stage, standing on the right-hand side, right at the back. I had a job as an extra and for two weeks I stood at the back dressed as a kind of court gentleman during the Black Swan pas de deux.
There was another extra, too. He stood on the left-hand side of the stage, and unlike me, he had ballet experience. He was called Radovan, he was seventeen and had just gained a place at Central School of Ballet in London.
Radovan told me all about the ballet world, he told me the names of steps, names of the most famous dancers in the world, (Baryshnikov was his idol) the best schools and also exactly what Swan Lake was about. It was all so new and exciting. Watching princes do a double tour en l’air and pirouettes, seeing black swans whip through fouettés. Watching the conductor guide the orchestra through each act and listening to the applause of the audience, all of this had a huge impact on me. I wanted in on this ballet world, and by the end of the two weeks I was hell-bent on becoming a professional ballet dancer, the only problem was that I was nineteen and had never taken a ballet lesson in my life.
My first lesson was in a church hall, I was the only boy. I loved it. I went to the Yellow Pages – this all took place way before Google – and looked up local dance schools. Everywhere I went to take class I was by far the oldest student and the only boy. I didn’t mind at all.
To have any chance at all of getting better I knew I had to go London and get into a ballet school. And that’s what I did. I auditioned for a school in Putney, I got in, and for three months I did ballet, contemporary and jazz. There were some great teachers and we did some shows in care homes. Then I auditioned for Central School of Ballet. I got in.
Central had a library, so I read as many books on ballet as I could and spent all my time stretching, practicing doing exercises and trying to get stronger. One day in a magazine I saw an article about a young Cuban dancer called Carlos Acosta, he had just won the Prix Du Lausanne competition in Switzerland. The picture of Acosta was amazing, he was flying serenely through the air, and the article described how he had dazzled the competition judges which blew my mind. I decided to go to Cuba and see if I could get a scholarship. I wanted to train in the same school as Carlos, and I used my grant money to buy a ticket to Havana.
They say you should never meet your heroes. If your hero is Carlos Acosta, though, I thoroughly recommend it. I was fortunate enough to train for two and a half years in Havana, during that time I took class with the corps de ballet of the Cuban National Ballet and also with the graduating boys class of the Cuban National Ballet School. Who do you think was in that graduating class? The man himself, Carlos Acosta. Yes, he was still a school boy, but everyone, all the other students as well as the principals of the company, knew that he was extremely special; the best male dancer in the world.
On top of being a great dancer, Carlos was extremely friendly, kind and generous. The first time I met him was in class: the thing is I couldn’t believe that barely eighteen months before I was taking class in a church hall, and now I was in the room with Carlos Acosta. The class began at seven in the morning, I had been working with that group for a while, Carlos had just come back from Venezuela. He came into the studio, saw me standing at the barre, and introduced himself straight away. I saw him perform many times and watching him in class was just amazing. One example of his kindness and positive attitude: I had just performed for the first time in the National Theater, I was dancing the Spring Waters pas de deux – lift the girl, throw the girl, catch the girl and lift the girl again. In terms of partner work the performance was a disaster, none of the lifts worked, not a single one, and my partner and I were devastated. After the show, up comes Carlos Acosta to tell us what was good about it! Taking the time to encourage us and give us some feedback, what a legend!
I danced professionally for thirteen years. I had a wonderful time and got to share the stage with some amazing dancers. I went on to spend ten years teaching Spanish and French in the UK, China and Qatar. I missed the dance world, taking class, rehearsing, performing, it is not easy to give up such an exciting and fulfilling job, so I decided I had to get back to dance as a profession.
I completed the Professional Dancers Postgraduate Teaching Certificate in 2017. That is the reason I am telling you my story, thanks to my RAD qualification I am now working as a dance teacher in China. Dance has taken me around the world, shown me different cultures and given me so much pleasure, and now I get to pass on my experience. Dance of any kind is so good for children and provides such valuable learning experiences. Persistence, collaboration, reflection, creativity, problem solving, all of these things are enhanced through dance. But dance is not only for the young. I have been inspired by the Silver Swans, and by the many older dancers I have seen on social media who are still keen to learn and reap the rewards, both physical and mental, that are to be gained through dance. In the future, as well as teaching children and young adults, I hope to put on classes and workshops for older people who may have always wanted to dance but never got the chance.
If you have the passion, it is never too late to learn.