Of the eloquence of the ballet dancers, the soul can speak volumes, yet not in words.
The movement of the dancers tells a deep and moving tale straight to the heart.
Our primary language is not words yet emotion, and that emotion is told in such beauty by dance within a dreamscape of arts
The dancers and the music together speak in the language that is so foundational to the world of words.
The dancers move like water transformed by music, flowing in graceful arcs, limbs in constant motion, painting a picture sound alone can never achieve. They bring a wordless interpretation of the beats, of the soft strings, in a way the audience can understand no matter what language they speak. In that way their dance isn't simply movement, but the most honest form of communication I know. Isn't that how we humans are, saying what we think we ought but showing how we truly feel in our art?
The dancers could never be captured by a simple photograph, any snapshot in time could never be enough to capture what their moving forms conveyed. They were joy and laughter, love and grace, emotions given a physical form. They were honesty clad in bright silk, their art cutting a path right to Alice's heart.
From up here in the high seats Lara looks like she's floating more than anything, like she twirls without effort in a serenity the audience craves. They come to see the dancers, to see what a human can really achieve, looking for reassurance that we are beautiful inside and not the monsters the media insists we are. Like the other dancers, Lara lives for her art and her body bares the scars and bunions as well as muscles as strong as any weightlifter. It takes great strength to make such activity as graceful as she does, total exertion with a smile that extends all the way to the eyes. I could read a thousand books and take in less than she compacts into one performance.
The dancers moved slowly through the fog like impossible silhouettes, tumbling more like fall leaves than human forms. It was ballet, but not in traditional attire; instead each body was clad only in charcoal grey. With the music they cast a sense of unease, a tension in the audience, a craving for the faster movements to come.
The master of words builds their house upon a solid grasp of emotion, the kind told so eloquently by dance, by music and all of the expressive arts.