Prima Ballerinas 21

## The Spirit of a Thousand Swans: Bai Shuxiang The stage lights, harsh and unforgiving, are a familiar embrace. As I watch the young dancers, their eyes filled with dreams and aspirations, I'm transported back to a time when I too was on the precipice of a long, demanding, yet exhilarating journey. My name is Bai Shuxiang, and my life has been intricately woven with the grace and strength of ballet. I was born in the tumultuous year of 1939, amidst the ashes of the Second Sino-Japanese War. My childhood in Nanjing was a tapestry of war's aftermath, a world where hope sprouted amidst the rubble. While my peers played with broken toys, I discovered solace in the fluidity of movement, the magic of music, and the yearning for a world where beauty could triumph over pain. The Enchanting World of Ballet My mother, a passionate advocate for the arts, understood my yearning. It was she who led me to the doors of the Nanjing Dance School. It felt like entering another world, a world where stories unfolded through a vocabulary of leaps, turns, and pirouettes. My initial training was under the watchful eye of Russian ballerina Elena Vyrubova, who brought the rigorous technique of the Bolshoi Ballet to our little school. In the studio, under the harsh glare of the single lightbulb, my days were filled with stretching, pliés, tendus, and relentless repetition. Every muscle ached, every bone screamed, but the allure of dance was strong. Elena, with her firm gaze and sharp critique, nurtured our talent, guiding us towards precision and artistry. The early years were about building a strong foundation, mastering the fundamental vocabulary of classical ballet. Hours of practice transformed into a physical and emotional dance. My body became a canvas, and every step, every gesture, was a brushstroke of expression. It was in this dance of tireless effort and unwavering passion that I found my own unique voice, a blend of strength and vulnerability. A Glimpse of Glory The first time I performed on a stage, I was only eight years old, dancing the role of the little swan in "Swan Lake." It was a moment that would forever define my trajectory. I had a chance to embody the spirit of the dance, the graceful, delicate, and yet resilient nature of the swan. The stage lights bathed me in a warm glow, and the applause was a surge of adrenaline, the validation of months of rigorous practice. In 1953, my journey took a pivotal turn when I was accepted into the newly established Central Ballet School in Beijing. This prestigious school was a melting pot of young, eager talent, and the intensity of our training increased tenfold. Beijing was an exciting world, buzzing with new possibilities. It was a city where tradition met modernity, a stage where my artistry would flourish. I learned from renowned ballet masters like Yu Zeguang and Yang Shibai, who had been exposed to the best of the world's ballet schools. Under their tutelage, I deepened my understanding of the classics and started to explore the intricacies of contemporary ballet. Our repertoire expanded to include works by choreographers like Konstantin Sergeyev, a student of the legendary Marius Petipa, and Marius Constantinescu, who brought a distinctly European flavour to Chinese ballet. Each new work became an opportunity for me to delve into different characters and stories, challenging me to grow as an artist and evolve as a performer. It was in these performances that I truly realised the power of dance, its ability to convey emotions, stories, and narratives that transcend language and cultural barriers. The Chinese Blossom By the time I graduated from the Central Ballet School, I had already established myself as a leading ballerina, capable of commanding the stage with grace and authority. But our country, under the sway of the Cultural Revolution, was embarking on a tumultuous journey. The world of ballet was not exempt from its ideological tremors. Many of my fellow dancers were labelled as "bourgeois" and "enemies of the people," ostracized from their passion. My dreams of performing abroad, a dream I had harboured since childhood, were brutally shattered. For years, our performances were limited to propaganda plays, filled with politically charged themes. Yet, in the heart of this oppressive period, the true spirit of dance flickered within us, refusing to be extinguished. It was the silent whispers of artistic expression, the stolen moments of rehearsal, and the enduring desire to express ourselves through movement that sustained us. When the Cultural Revolution subsided, the dance scene in China gradually started to rebuild itself. It was a challenging time, filled with uncertainties, but also a period of tremendous artistic potential. The hunger for genuine art and the opportunity to showcase our own narratives and experiences had only intensified during those years. The New Dawn In the years that followed, I embraced the role of teacher and mentor, sharing my knowledge and experiences with the next generation of dancers. The responsibility of guiding them through the rigours of ballet and instilling in them the same dedication that I had witnessed during my early training was both daunting and exhilarating. I also started creating my own pieces, merging traditional Chinese dance elements with the technical foundation of classical ballet. This fusion allowed me to express my heritage and explore new forms of movement, creating a unique and contemporary voice within the world of Chinese ballet. Over the years, I performed in prestigious theaters across the world, sharing the stage with some of the world’s greatest dancers and choreographers. Each performance was a celebration of our collective legacy, a testament to the transformative power of dance. My journey, like the story of the swan, has been a journey of grace, strength, resilience, and unyielding dedication to the art that has given me a voice and shaped my destiny. And as I look at the faces of these young dancers, I see a reflection of my own journey, the dreams of a ballerina born in a land ravaged by war, who dared to believe that beauty and art could triumph even in the most challenging of times. Legacy of a Swan In the world of ballet, each dancer leaves behind a legacy, a ripple effect in the fabric of the art. It's not just about the steps and the moves; it’s about the inspiration we provide, the stories we tell, and the emotions we stir in the hearts of those who watch. For me, that legacy lies in the numerous students I trained, the innovative choreographies I created, and the moments I shared with audiences around the world, igniting the flame of love for ballet in countless hearts. I am immensely grateful for the journey that brought me to this point. Ballet has given me purpose, strength, and a voice in a world often filled with discord. As the final curtain falls on my performance, I walk offstage, feeling a bittersweet ache in my soul. My body, though seasoned with years of practice, still feels the longing to dance, to share the stories of grace and resilience that define the spirit of a ballerina. But my role is evolving, becoming the mentor, the guide, the storyteller who inspires the next generation of dancers. The stage is theirs now, waiting to be painted with their unique expression. My legacy, a whisper of my passion, will hopefully echo through their movements, guiding them towards their own glorious journeys in the world of ballet.