Post number 3348 - www.pink-tutu.com
Hello darlings! Welcome back to Pink Tutu Travels, where we journey through time and explore the captivating world of ballet, one tutu at a time! It's me, Emma, your fellow ballerina and passionate historian of dance. This month, Magic Meg and I are stepping back to 12th December 1939, a date that echoes through the halls of history as the world plunged into the darkness of the Second World War. Despite the global turmoil, the spirit of dance still flickered, and believe me, there’s always room for twirling and grace, even amidst the chaos!
As I pull on my shimmering pink tutu – my favourite, a vintage 1930s creation adorned with delicate hand-sewn beads - I glance out the window at Magic Meg. My beautiful pink shimmering Shire, with golden hooves and a flowing white mane and tail, waits patiently. She always understands, her large, gentle eyes filled with an unspoken encouragement as we prepare to embark on another adventure. Today, my leather rucksack feels a little heavier, packed with the anticipation of experiencing ballet during such a monumental time in human history.
This month’s trip was inspired by a newspaper clipping I found tucked away in a dusty box at the Derbyshire Dance Academy – a captivating image of a young woman performing at the London Coliseum, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. A performance in London? In 1939? Oh, how I was ready to explore this poignant period and its impact on the world of ballet.
It's quite chilly tonight, even with Magic Meg's warming fur next to me as she clops us towards the bustling London streets. The atmosphere is charged with a blend of uncertainty and resilience. Every corner of the city bears witness to the weight of war – sirens wail, streets are eerily quiet, and the occasional glimpse of soldiers reinforces the grim reality. Yet, despite the shadows, a glimmer of life persists. The glow of streetlights casts warm reflections, families gather in cafes, and people strive to find moments of solace.
Arriving at the London Coliseum, my eyes widen at the grandeur of the building – a majestic symbol of artistic endeavour. The anticipation buzzing within its walls is almost tangible. As I step inside, I'm immediately transported to a world of plush red velvet seats and swirling chandeliers. The scent of fresh floral arrangements mingles with the exciting murmur of the crowd, creating a beautiful symphony of elegance and resilience. The audience is filled with faces of stoicism, etched with worry, yet an unwavering sense of hope shines through their eyes. These are people seeking refuge from the harsher realities of the world, seeking comfort and inspiration within the realm of ballet.
The programme tonight showcases a captivating mix of works. The Royal Ballet, led by the esteemed Ninette de Valois, presents "The Sleeping Beauty," an enchanting tale of dreams and destiny that captures the audience's hearts. A surge of applause greets the opening act as the majestic Sleeping Beauty glides gracefully onto the stage. The music fills the hall, soaring with passion, while the delicate movements of the dancers ignite a wave of awe and wonder throughout the auditorium.
Through my keen eye, I observe a quiet bravery in the dancers’ expressions. They move with purpose, defying the dark cloud that looms over the nation. Each pirouette, each grand jeté seems to embody an indomitable spirit, reminding everyone that art continues to bloom even in the most challenging of times.
The atmosphere feels charged with hope and a shared sense of resilience. Throughout the evening, the crowd erupted in a thunderous applause for each performance, their joy echoing the beauty of human spirit rising above adversity. The ballet serves as a temporary sanctuary – a place where elegance, grace, and beauty weave a tapestry of inspiration that touches every soul present.
The final curtain call washes the Coliseum with a wave of appreciation and celebration. As the audience disperses, I stand a moment longer, observing the lingering air of shared joy and resilience. As we step out into the crisp night, I realise how this evening was not just about dance; it was about humanity's ability to embrace beauty and joy amidst the shadows of hardship. It was a reminder that even amidst the darkness, a single ray of hope, a twirling tutu, and a passion for dance, could inspire the world.
My time in 1939 ends just as the war-torn nation tries to find a fragile peace. And yet, in this heart-wrenching historical backdrop, the world of ballet blossomed, offering solace, beauty, and a timeless reminder of the enduring human spirit.
Back in my own time, tucked under the twinkling Christmas lights in Derbyshire, my mind reflects upon the dancers and their bravery in continuing to express themselves through their art form during such a tumultuous time.
As I tuck away the 1939 programmes and photos from my leather rucksack, my heart aches with respect and admiration. Their unwavering passion for dance continues to inspire us today. A final thought to my beloved readers, don’t you agree that there is always a way to twirl and inspire, regardless of what life throws your way? Don’t be afraid to don your favourite pink tutu, find your dance and let it inspire you!
See you next month, darlings!
Until then,
Emma xx
