Boston Ballet: part 2

If you were walking quickly, checking your phone, or focusing on your feet, you would never notice 19 Clarendon Street. It's a brick building in a metropolitan plaza, surround by storefronts, parking lots, and an organic café. The windows are even covered so passersby can't see inside. But if you know where you're going, or if you pay attention to the photos on the window covers, you will arrive at the headquarters of the Boston Ballet. 

The boardroom sits above and peers into the 
large rehearsal studio. During La Mer, we were
actually sitting on chairs against the mirror. Here,
dancers are warming up for an afternoon rehearsal.

Once you step inside the front door, it is a different world. Gone are the street noise and the towering brick facades. Instead, a faint wisp of piano music floats down from the second floor. A grand staircase winds through the center of the building - not carpeted in velvet like a mansion, but surrounded by white walls that reflect the sunlight from countless windows. The negative space created by the central staircase gives a light, airy feel to the entire building. 

Stepping onto a landing, you discover an open studio door - the source of the piano music - and dancers scattered on the carpet just outside. They stretch, change shoes, jump and sway to stay warm, while their colleagues leap across the floor just inside. There are seven studios altogether, each with their own hum of activity. I could spend all day wandering through this building, scurrying up and down the central staircase, following the music, peeking around corners and gingerly stepping over tutus. My 12-year-old self dreamed of places like this. 

Thanks to the recent collaboration between WHOI and the Boston Ballet, a few of us scientists had the opportunity to watch a rehearsal of La Mer. This new piece features choreography by Nanine Linning and addresses environmental impacts on the ocean. In the Ballet's largest studio, Nanine organized the dancers to run the final scene of her work. A group of women stood shoulder-to-shoulder and waved their hands to imitate barnacles on a rock. Suddenly, the music changed, and dancers emerged from the wings, running at top speed straight across the stage. A group collected in the middle, and 6 men lifted a woman by her limbs as she writhed like a fish out of water. The movement was creative and captivating and the message ever so clear. 

A stack of tutus in the Boston Ballet's costume
storage. We got a tour of the building, and it
was fascinating to see!

Wearing tennis shoes, Nanine stood in the center of the room and watched the dancers. "Get low," she told them, bending her knees and torso to demonstrate the groundedness she wanted them to achieve. After incorporating Nanine's comments, the dancers ran the scene again. A pianist played the role of the orchestra while the conductor kept tempo. I haven't even seen the final version, but I can tell already, this piece is going to be incredible.

We ate lunch on the floor of the dance studio, huddled cross-legged in a circle with Ballet staff - not just by dancers but also by staff from the costume shop and the box office. Nanine and Mikko joined us on the floor. With cameras rolling, we asked each other questions about science, about art, about how we view the ocean. I was honored when Nanine shared that her visit to WHOI had given her more optimism about the future, and that she had decided to incorporate a bit more optimism into the piece. Science is very good at highlighting problems, but it can also identify solutions - something we desperately need for the future. 

It was an absolute honor to visit the Boston Ballet. La Mer premiers on April 6.