Tara

dance 101 Instructor since 2016
Classes: Ballet Fundamentals, Pure Ballet and Pointe

I think my background makes me particularly suited to teaching adults. Because I was not a naturally gifted, specially molded dancer, I grew up spending a lot of time figuring out how to move functionally with what I do have. And my return to dance after such a long break means I know firsthand what it’s like to find yourself in a body that doesn’t work as you remember or with muscles that need some time to learn how to fire. I understand what it means to have to set your ego aside, put your blinders on, and give yourself grace on those days when nothing seems to work. And I have such a deep appreciation for the freedom that dancing as an adult allows. At this stage in my dancers’ lives, there is no need for conformity or competition. We can focus purely on movement quality and personal artistry alone. My dancers are all ages and skill levels—some have danced all their lives, some have no dance background at all, and most are returning to dance after years away—but for all of us, ballet is about connecting to our bodies, escaping the ordinary, and pushing ourselves to do more than we ever thought possible.

I started ballet, baton, and tumbling at age 3, not without significant protesting on my part. My stay-at-home mom babysat for several neighborhood kids, and she needed to take one of them to her weekly ballet lessons. My mom decided that if she were going to truck me along with her, she might as well enroll me too and get herself an hour and a half of alone time. It was a rough start, though—lots of tears and begging to quit.

But then I learned what I thought were amazing things, like how to skip across the floor and do a cartwheel and dance Miss Holly’s special Halloween routine. I quickly became obsessed. I spent all of my childhood free time either in dance classes, choreographing in my rec room to my parents’ classical records, or play-teaching to imaginary students out in my yard (which may explain some of the ridiculous imagery I still use when teaching today). I was a shy, anxious kid, and ballet gave me the space to quiet my mind and build confidence through each new achievement.

I never once thought, however, that I could be a professional dancer. I took classes at a small local school with a teacher who herself had only ever studied at a small local school. No one I knew danced professionally, and outside of my studio, the only glimpse of ballet I ever saw was a TV news segment on preternaturally gifted children in Russia, rooted out and then plucked from their homes at the young age of 5 or 6 for a life of intense, controlled training. It gave me the impression that this was the only way ballerinas were made, tended and shaped like very special seedlings in a precious garden. It wasn’t until I was 14, when a guest teacher, Cherie Noble, pulled my mother aside and told her to send me to New York, that I ever even thought a career in dance was an option for me. An audition was set up for me at the School of American Ballet for its summer program, and when my mom asked me why I even wanted to go to SAB, I answered, “What’s that?” I knew absolutely nothing about the professional ballet world or the big names in it. But I went to the audition and got in, and my whole life changed. After two summers at SAB, I moved to New York full-time at 16, became an apprentice with the New York City Ballet the following year, and left NYCB to dance under Edward Villella at the Miami City Ballet when I was 20.

I retired from professional dancing after 5 seasons with MCB, burnt out from the constant battle with my body to conform to ballet’s idealized standards. I was never thin enough. My odd proportions and naturally bent knees wouldn’t allow me the gorgeous lines that others seemed to have. That I even had a professional career is still a marvel to me and, I hope, a testament to just how strong a dancer I was both technically and musically. I moved back to New York after leaving Miami and took classes at Steps on Broadway with no idea of what I wanted to do. SAB, which has always been so good to me, welcomed me back and allowed me to take classes at no charge while I figured out my next move. Suzy Pilarre, the surrogate mom to so many of us SAB alumni, even began mentoring me for a career as a pre-professional ballet teacher, but in the end I decided to do something totally different and go to college. I just needed to see what else was out there.

That move was the start of my decade-long break from ballet. I took only 1 class my entire 4 years of college, and then did not dance again until I got up the nerve to try Ballet Barre Fit at Dance 101 in October 2012, after 3 years of driving past the studio daily and wondering "what if?" I cried after that first class—it was like coming home. I was recently divorced and very, very lost. Since retiring from ballet, I had been haunted nightly with dreams that I was dancing, and just to stand in 5th position at the barre brought an overwhelming flood of emotion. I was so grateful to find myself in a studio that allowed me to once again take classes for the simple love of movement, and I became obsessed with dance just like before, taking 9 - 10 classes a week. When I was asked to join the faculty of Dance 101 a couple years later, I jumped at the opportunity. For me, nothing compares to ballet’s mix of athleticism, artistry, and meditative practice, and I love helping others discover just how good dancing feels, both physically and mentally.

This is why I love teaching at Dance 101. It provides a welcoming, inclusive home for dancers of all interests and stages and a supportive space to either reconnect with or discover your own personal dance love story, whatever that might look like for you alone.

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