Conjure up an image of ballerinas spinning effortlessly en pointe and you’re not likely to come up with, say blisters… or corns… or bunions. Yet the two go hand-in-hand like peanut butter and jelly. Regardless of the shape of one’s feet, though, the show must go on and every dancer if eventually faced with the unfortunate and painful prospect of having to dance with bloody toes.

There are work-arounds, of course. There have to be. That’s where a dancer’s best friend comes to the rescue: good old Dr. Scholl’s. No, they don’t just make arch supports and sandals that are the equivalent of wooden flip-flops (but comfy!). Many dancers rely heavily on Dr. Scholl’s Blister Treatment, Corn Cushions (and remover), bunion cushions, and Moleskin Padding to protect wounds and sore spots when the going gets tough and the tough must keep going.

Every time I put on my pointe shoes, whether for class, rehearsal or performance, there was an elaborate ritual involved (which had nothing to do with the preparation of the pointe shoes… this part was all about the feet). It would be professional suicide to just stick your unprotected feet into a pair of pointe shoes and dance so long and hard that you give the 12 Dancing Princesses a run for their money. Instead, there is a process. What worked well for me was to wrap each toe with medical tape and then use paper towels or gel pads to make the whole experience more comfy. I dealt with the occasional corn (man, those suckers are painful!) by dosing it with remover and by using an oval-shaped corn pad to relieve pressure.

I was one of the lucky one who got blisters on very rare occasions… until I moved to Miami to dance with Miami City Ballet.

Miami is commonly acknowledged to be a part of the Continental US, but the climate (and the culture) is tropical by nature. It’s warm year-round, which brings tourists and older folks in droves and its monsoon season (typically in July/August) would rival that of Mumbai, India, Bali, Indonesia or anywhere else that gets pelted with driving rains so fierce that even with the windshield wipers on high it would be lunacy to attempt driving.

Miami is also humid as h*ll… which means blisters. Lots of them.

My time in Miami was the first and only time in my life when I had blisters all the time. The tropical climate kept everything perpetually moist and feet were no exception. Every day brought on new and disgusting terrors and no matter how hard I tried to stay on top of it, I got more and more blisters.

I even had blisters on top of my blisters.

But the winning moment came one night when we were on tour in Palm Beach. I was putting the final touches on makeup and costuming, attempting to delay the inevitable moment when I’d have to put my bloody toes in pointe shoes and dance my part in Concerto Baroco.

For the record, Concerto Barocco is a beautiful Balanchine ballet set to Concerto in D minor for Two Violins, by Johann Sebastian Bach (achingly wonderful music). It is also one of Balanchine’s most taxing ballets for the corps de ballet. During the entire 20 minutes of the ballet, the corps never leaves the stage. The first movement is brisk and uptempo, followed by a second movement that is quite slow where the dancers are forced to hold static lunge positions for many long minutes at a time.

But the end of the ballet is a real killer; it is fast-paced, technically demanding, relentlessly aerobic and in its final moments, there are a million soutenu turns from side to side and endless hops on pointe.

In essence, it might be the worst possible ballet to perform with a nasty collection of gaping blisters.

When life passes us incredibly painful moments, sometimes there’s no choice but to belly up to the bar(re). Which is what I did. After painstakingly cutting out moleskin pads that were perfectly-sized for each and every blister, I wrapped every toe carefully, cushioned the whole mess with padding and said a silent prayer before heading backstage to psyche myself into the proper mindset to get through the performance.

First I tried some pique arabesques. Those were tolerable. If you’re comfortable with the feeling of having your foot pierced by a red-hot poker. The soutenu turns stepped things up a few notches. The hops on pointe were worse than natural childbirth (I know from personal experience) so I stopped doing them. After that I stayed off pointe and kept my muscles warm until the final moment of reckoning arrived.

A taste of Concerto Barocco:

But when the music started, it transported me away from my worldly troubles… at least for the first two movements. Some music is inspiring enough that it can do that, force us to forget the things we’d rather forget and let our bodies simply respond to the exquisite sound of a musical masterpiece. Add the theatrical elements of bright light, a company of fellow dancers and an enrapt audience and the pain disappears… almost.

Except for the third movement and those bloody (literally) hops on pointe where I could feel the raw meat of my wounded flesh grinding against the concrete confines that were the boxes of my shoes… well, that was special.

Final bows were one of the hugest reliefs I’ve ever experienced. I walked off stage- okay, no- I hobbled. When I looked down I noticed blood had seeped through everything, including the pink satin exteriors of my shoes. Now that was serious.

Such is a day in the life of a dancer.

When I first began wearing pointe shoes, we wore them twice a week for 15 minutes at the end of class, so one pair of shoes would last many months. By the time I was an upper-division dancer at the School of American Ballet I would go through several pairs in a week. At $60 a pop this was prohibitively expensive. (Today’s prices are even more so; a recent visit to the Freed of London website showed a current price of $94 per pair, and Capezio shoes ranged from $63-79 per pair).

Luckily the School of American Ballet provided a solution: the infamous shoe room. The shoe room was filled with shelf after shelf of New York City Ballet company cast-offs, those shoes deemed unacceptable by various company members for various reasons. Some were obvious, like a lumpy box on a pair of pointe shoes but most were serviceable. School of American Ballet students were able to avail themselves of the shoe room and purchase shoes for the incredibly low price of $15. It was a bargain that was too good to pass up.

However, using the shoe room came with a different price: an inordinate amount of time spent waiting. The shoe room was only open a few hours per week for two hours at a time and we were only allowed in to browse one at a time. (Why this was the case remains an unexplained mystery). However, we never questioned the rules and learned to wait patiently outside the door until Miss Finn, school secretary and steadfast gatekeeper of the shoe room announced our turn.

The shoe room was a tiny little room adjacent to the girls’ dressing room. Okay, it was a closet… but a luxuriously large closet as closets go – any janitor would have been overjoyed to call it headquarters… But this humble closet was a hot spot, the stuff of legend to any newcomer who had not yet ventured inside – it was the difference between affording a new pair of pointe shoes or trying to revive an old pair by pouring polyeurethane in the boxes and baking them in the oven.

Once inside, a decision had to be made as quickly as possible, since time was always running short and a line of other dancers waited just on the other side of the door. Anyone who took too long was sure to hear about it from the others. One boy took so long choosing his (leather) ballet slippers that the entire line of waiting dancers grumbled. “What are you doing in there?” someone finally asked. His muffled reply through door: “Killing the cow.”

Most New York City Ballet dancers wore pointe shoes from Freed of London. The leather soles of the shoes had symbols stamped into them, indicating the “maker” of the shoe. If you already knew which dancer’s shoes (and maker) you preferred, it was easy to grab a few pairs and try them on to see which ones felt best. When the selection(s) were made, you exited and paid Miss Finn and it was the next person’s turn.

It always felt satisfying to leave the shoe room with a pile of shoes. But then again, it also meant a whole lot of sewing since each pair needed ribbons and elastic. Even so, an armload of pink satin is a beautiful thing.

How pointe shoes are made… A clue to why they are so expensive…

Ashley Bouder, NYCB:

Though she’s not sure how many pairs she wears in a season, Bouder typically uses one pair per performance, but if she’s dancing a full-length ballet such as Swan Lake, she’ll use at least two pairs in one night.

Gaylor Minden’s guidelines:

The average life of a pointe shoe is somewhere between 4-12 HOURS of dancing. If your daughter is en pointe 15 minutes per class twice per week, her shoes may last 8-20 weeks. If your daughter is en pointe for a 1 . hour class followed by 2 hours of rehearsal 3 times per week, she may be lucky to get 3-4 weeks of use out of a pair of shoes.

Soloist Callie Manning, Miami City Ballet on preparing shoes:

Every dancer prepares their shoes differently. It can take years of trial and error to find what works best for you. Some of my tricks include: using super glue to make my pointe shoes EXTRA hard and last longer; stitching around the tips (this is called “darning”) to make a nice flat platform; and I also sew an inch of elastic into each ribbon to give them a little stretch. When we are performing I can go through roughly 2-4 pairs per week (even after adding 8 tubes of super glue per pair). It can sometimes take me up to 45 minutes from start to finish to prepare my shoes.

Mao’s Last Dancer, directed by Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy, Bride of the Wind, Breaker Morant, Double Jeopardy), this is the true story of Li Cunxin, who was plucked from his village school room  and brought to Bejing to train as a classical ballet dancer, in accordance with Chairman Mao’s great vision. The story unfolds as the boy is taken from his family and subjected to rigorous training by mostly cold-hearted instructors. His hard work and persistence pay off and  he develops into a dancer with enough promise that he is noticed by Houston Ballet choreographer Ben Stevenson and invited to come to America as a guest dancer.

Thus begins a new chapter of Li Cunxin’s life. After spending some time in America, he chooses not to return to China.

The dancing by Chi Cao in this movie is truly beautiful –  Cao  joined Birmingham Royal Ballet in 1995 and was promoted to Principal in 2002.He trained at the Beijing Dance Academy and the Royal Ballet School. The movie is based on the book. Either are worth the time.

Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing and Charm School is an unexplored gem. We happened upon this movie by accident, but it’s got an all-star cast (Robert Carlyle, Marisa Tomei, Donnie Wahlberg and John Goodman) and is worth watching more than once. Frank Keane (Robert Carlyle), recently widowed, is driving his bakery truck along a deserted stretch of highway when he comes upon the scene of a horrible accident. He calls 911 and is told to keep the injured motorist talking until they arrive. The name of the injured driver is Steve Mills (John Goodman) who was rushing to an important appointment made thirty-five years ago with his grammar school sweetheart. Steve finally realizes he’ll never be able to keep his promise he asks Frank to keep the appointment for him.

Frank honors Steve’s request and the course of his life is altered forever.

For anyone who loves dance… or has suffered through childhood social dance classes, the movie will have you laughing, crying, or both.

Once I had purchased my first pair of pointe shoes, the steep uphill climb of the learning curve began. There was a lot to learn: how to sew on the ribbons, care for the shoes, care for the feet in and out of the shoes and, of course, how to use the things. But during the course of the drive home from the dance store, the shoes remained nestled in their box in a mass of tissue paper.

Within moments after getting them home I was ready to sew on the ribbons and give them a test-drive. Proper ribbon placement is essential; one cannot just sew them on haphazardly and hope for the best. To find the right placement, fold down the back of the shoe until it touches the shank on the inside of the shoe. The sites where the satin folds are where the ribbons go. My teacher was very particular and very thorough about sewing those ribbons; she made us fold the ends of the ribbon over on themselves twice before sewing them on. By sewing through several layers of ribbon, there was no way those puppies were ever going to rip off in the middle of something important.

At last we were able to try them out the following week. The final 10 minutes of class were set aside for the pointe shoe fledglings to spread their wings. We were given careful instructions on how to gently bend the shanks so they would curve under our arches and how to break in the boxes so they felt a little bit less like cement blocks. We ripped off a hunk of lamb’s wool (sold by the box), wrapped it around the toes to cushion them, then tied the ribbons in the trademark criss-cross around the ankles.

The first exercise on pointe was simple relevés on two legs, and we only did a few of them. It felt strange and rather anti-climactic. It also hurt. A lot.

Over the next several months we began to build up to doing more and more en pointe and I simultaneously began to have more and more pain in my feet, specifically in the joints of my big toes. Whenever I took my pointe shoes off, my feet would throb in protest, the joints of angry and red. I began to notice they were becoming enlarged. Needless to say, the pain and disfigurement were alarming. I tried putting ice on the affected area but it didn’t help – they kept growing.

I would come to find that nothing would help. Over the course of the many years that followed, my feet would gradually transform themselves into a twisted version of themselves. “The problem is that you need to strengthen the outside muscles of your calves,” said the podiatrist that I consulted (hundreds of exercises later there was no change). “The problem is that your big toes are longer than the others and your foot is warping itself to compensate,” said knowing friends (not much to be done about that). The problem continued to progress and I developed full-fledged bunions (really not pretty).

The real problem was that pointe shoes are actually instruments of torture. Beautiful to look at, but not so fun to get used to.

It took years before the breath-taking pain finally subsided. But for the first few years that I wore pointe shoes, it felt like my feet were being sliced with a hot knife. I’d often have to slip the shoes off for a few moments between exercise to relieve the continual aching pressure. When I finally took them off at the end of class I expected to see steam come pouring out, like in cartoons. Only it was no laughing matter, really. Most of the time I wanted to cry.

I had yet to learn how to dance with open, bloody blisters and to familiarize myself with the wide array of Dr. Scholl’s products that make a dancer’s life just that much more bearable. It wasn’t until years later in New York that I’d learn the tricks of mummifying my toes with medical tape and strategically placing squishy pads around nasty blisters and corns.

Human feet are subjected to a lot but dancers pretty much take the prize for being the most demanding of them.

Two summers ago, a fellow dancer and I were walking together. It was a hot day and I was wearing flip-flops. My friend happened to look down at my feet and commented,”Oh, your poor feet. Look at what pointe shoes have done them.” Her feet, by contrast, looked totally normal and pretty (I was envious).

In the overall scope of things, one could argue that I got off easy. Yes, my feet are somewhat deformed, but I never ripped, tweaked or broke anything. While many dancers end up with injuries that never completely go away, I never suffered anything that still lives with me now.

But in the ballet world, such is the price of glory.

My Feet

Normal Feet Photo: Shannah Pace

Every young ballerina dreams of the day she will first go up on pointe. Pointe shoes are the stuff of magic, giving a dancer the illusion of floating or flying. (Before pointe shoes were developed, dancers were hoisted into the air on ropes and pulleys… but pointe shoes made it so much easier to move around the stage instead of just up and down). The pink satin gives pointe shoes an air of elegance, conjuring up images of fine ladies strutting about in even finer gowns made of billowing layers of stain and tulle. But in all honesty, wearing pointe shoes takes a lot of getting used to. They hurt like a mother.

I couldn’t wait to get my first pair of pointe shoes. However, my teacher was very particular about starting girls when their bodies were ready and not a moment before. She was a stickler about this because starting a dancer on pointe too early can cause real damage. As I got closer and closer to the right time, my anticipation grew to the point of near explosion. Buying your first pair of pointe shoes was a big deal in my ballet studio, you see; it was like a field trip, a festival and a huge family celebration all rolled into one.

We all drove together as a group on the big day, partly because my teacher wanted to be there to oversee the process and partly because the nearest store to buy them was located forty-five minutes away. We flocked into the tiny store and were seated in a tight little circle. None of us could sit still on the cold metal chairs as we waited for our turn while our friends were fitted. We watched their faces as they rose up on toe for the first time while we anxiously wiggled in our seats.

In my teacher’s mind there was only one brand: Capezio. So that’s what we all got. Size and width were the only thing that differed among us. But on that day there was nothing more wondrous in my mind than those pink Capezios. At last my feet were happily encased in what felt like pink satin cement blocks. My fitter offered me a hand to help me stand up and man, even standing in the things felt awkward. They had absolutely no give and were thicker and taller than ballet slippers. It felt like my ankles couldn’t flex enough to stand properly- my weight was being forced back on my heels, making me feel like I could teeter over backwards. The fitter continued to hold my hand while I rose up on pointe for the first time. The tips of the shoes, called the boxes – the hardest parts of the pointe shoes dug in to the soft, virgin flesh of my feet. It really hurt! I didn’t know how I would ever get used to wearing them, let alone look graceful.

Still, even the pain did not lessen my love affair with those shoes. That would happen much later.

Once everyone was fitted properly (and to my teacher’s satisfaction), the shoes were boxed up and we were all given the standard-issue packs of pink satin ribbon to sew onto our shoes (pointe shoes do not come with the ribbons attached- it is always a dancer’s job to do that… imagine how much sewing professionals do when they go through several pairs of shoes each week) and a box of lamb’s wool, which was used to cushion and protect the toes inside those super-hard boxes.

I was on a huge high during the entire car ride home. I couldn’t wait to sew those ribbons on my shoes and get started with dancing… like a real ballerina. Finally.

Little did I know that my love affair with pointe shoes would be short-lived and tragic.

Dancers are known for their strength and grace, but they don’t come without hard work. In addition to daily dance classes and rehearsals, dancers build strength through alternate methods such as yoga and Pilates. Both of these practices give dancers the extra boost they need to be better, stronger dancers and move ahead in their careers.

Yoga teaches practitioners how to link breath and movement, which is a very powerful tool for dancers. Working with conscious breathing adds more power to certain moves such as turns and jumps. An in breath helps with expansive moves and buoyancy – helpful when it’s time to leap across stage, while an out breath adds power to bends or grounded moves. Yoga teaches us how to live more fully in our bodies, to inhabit each and every cell while building strength, balance and coordination.Yoga has another obvious benefit; a relaxed state of mind.What dancer couldn’t use a little of that? Let’s face it; dancing is a very stressful career.

Says dancer Jennifer Stahl: In yoga (especially vinyasa) I was finally able to find a feeling of fullness to my movement—something I had struggled to attain in modern class, but never quite “got.” Once I became used to finding length in every position during the slow flow through the poses, I could translate that sensation back to the studio, and became able to move bigger, with longer lines. Yoga taught me to really feel what was going on in my body, and to become aware of where I was placing it in space.

Core strength is a key element for dancers, especially during quick moves and turns. Joseph Pilates, a fitness pioneer in his time, developed the Pilates system, which uses specialized equipment and exercises to develop and strengthen what he called the “powerhouse”, the muscles of the abdominals, lower back and buttocks. Other benefits include improved posture, and fewer back problems. The Pilates method has long been an inside secret for many dancers, but is now recognized as important and necessary- Pacific Northwest Ballet has two Pilates studios available to its dancers. (Read more about Pilates at PNB here).

Says Alexandra Dickson, ex-PNB soloist and Pilates Conditioning Manager at PNB: “I didn’t realize the power I was getting from Pilates until I did it three times a week after my pregnancy,” recalled Dickson during a recent break from private and semi-private workouts with clients. “I got back to the ballet and we opened with ‘Swan Lake’ (a demanding performance). I couldn’t have a made it back without the Pilates work.”

However, yoga and Pilates aren’t just for dancers; anyone can benefit from either practice. Both are particularly helpful to prevent and correct back pain issues. The benefits include:

Yoga

• greater strength and flexibility

• improved balance and coordination

• improved state of mind

• increased breathing capacity

Pilates

• improved posture

• greater core strength

• improved overall strength, flexibility and coordination

Strength and grace don’t come naturally, but there are tried and true techniques available for anyone (dancer or not) who wants more of either.

I just finished reading Sophie Flack’s “Bunheads”, a gritty, true-to-life story about Hannah Ward, a nineteen-year-old ballet dancer who has been happily devoting herself to the rigors of ballet life with the prestigious Manhattan Ballet: classes, rehearsals, performances and complicated backstage relationships. When she meets a handsome musician named Jacob, her life changes, and she is forced to decide what she really wants her future to look like.

I have to admit that I felt a little bit ill reading some of the descriptions of Hannah’s life. It all brought me back to my own experiences as a ballet dancer. What many people don’t realize is that the life of a ballet dancer isn’t always pretty; it requires an inhumane level of work and dedication without offering much in the way of fair compensation. Ballet is an all-or-nothing proposition – there’s really no time for much of anything else.

While the practice of ballet has much to offer an individual (like balance, coordination, musicality, spatial awareness and discipline) the lifestyle does not. The dream of becoming a professional ballerina is quite alluring to many who remain ignorant of the cold, hard realities of a dancer’s life. “Bunheads” puts it all in the spotlight.

For instance, many ballet companies require dancers to work six days a week, with Mondays off. That’s more work days than most typical jobs in the country. It’s a well-known fact that a dancer’s pay is not very high, but most people probably don’t know that dancers go on unemployment every year for part of the year since most contracts don’t offer a full year’s worth of work. This is true even for dancers with New York City Ballet, one of the most well-known (and well-financed) ballet companies in the US.

Just as Hannah Ward’s character demonstrates, a dancer’s day starts early (around 9am, when they get ready for the obligatory morning ballet class) and ends late (often after 11 pm, after an evening performance). For most, it isn’t enough to simply show up for classes, rehearsals and performances. The ongoing pursuit of perfection (through extra dance rehearsals, pilates, yoga, and strength training classes) is an integral part of a ballerina’s job description. There’s just enough time to fall into bed exhausted, only to wake up the next day and start all over again.

Let’s not forget the added pressure of maintaining an ultra-slim physique, which is no easy feat to begin with and often involves developing some unhealthy eating habits. Smoking and binge eating are some of the techniques that the characters in “Bunheads” employ to stay thin. One of the principal dancers only eats white foods (and it comes as no surprise when she collapses and ends up in the hospital).

Then, too, there are the people who are in charge of running the whole show. In “Bunheads”, the artistic director constantly pits dancers against on another by giving them the same role, which forces them to compete with one another, upping the ante. There is never a word of kindness or encouragement uttered during the entire length of the book, despite the brutal workload – even after stellar reviews in the newspaper. The environment of the ballet company is highly competitive and completely lacking in positive reinforcement.

Over the years I’ve had several parents ask about how to help their daughters start ballet careers and I’ve advised them to really educate themselves about the realities before making that decision. “Bunheads” might be the perfect required reading.

Zippora Karz is a former soloist ballerina with the New York City Ballet where she performed from 1983 through 1999. She was featured in a variety of roles choreographed by George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins (The Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker being one of her favorites) as well as works choreographed for her by such choreographers as Peter Martins and Lynne Taylor Corbett. Diagnosed with juvenile diabetes in 1987, just as she was being featured in solo roles, she found a way to continue to live her dream despite her illness. She now serves as a teacher and repetiteur for the George Balanchine Trust, rehearsing and staging Balanchine’s choreography for a host of national and international dance companies. She is also a diabetes spokesperson and educator who regularly addresses major diabetes conferences and organizations worldwide. In addition to her memoir, The Sugarless Plum, published in 2009, Zippora writes a regular column for the Huffington Post. She lives in Los Angeles, California.

photo by Mark Harmel

Which tools have been the most helpful during your most challenging moments?

I have always been passionate about health, physically and emotionally, long before I was diagnosed with diabetes. So when I was diagnosed I set out to learn everything I could about how to take care of my body. But equally important was learning to accept the things I could not control, as my life took an unexpected turn and I felt my dreams slipping away. It was a very long process, one I am still on, desiring to fulfill my personal potential, but having to redefine what that potential might encompass. For example, my potential as a ballerina before diabetes was different than my potential after my diagnosis. I had to learn to let go of the perfectionist voice in my head and heart that wanted to be the best I could be as I was before my diabetes, even though everything was now different. My new best would have to be good enough.

Describe the happiest moment(s) of your dance career.

I’m not one to get ecstatic over certain experiences. A sense of peace came about when I accepted my situation and found myself able to maintain my life as a soloist with NYCB, and as an insulin dependent diabetic.

But I will say that those youthful “happy” moments, if I looked for them, I would have to be before I joined the company, my school years at SAB (official school of NYCB). George Balanchine was still alive, as were many of the great teachers on faculty, like Stanley Williams, Suki Schorer (still there today) and Alexandra Danilova. Every day, in class, I felt inspired. The future held unlimited possibilities. It was a magical time in the ballet world. As that generation of greatness passed away, I felt personally less inspired.

How has your background as a dancer helped you with the work you are doing today?

The life of a dancer is full of discipline and rewards for hours of practice and focus. Dance teaches us that it is the process that is important. That the transition from one step to the next, not just how high you jump or how many turns you do are important. And so in life, it is the moments in between, not just the big events that hold great meaning.

How did you find the strength and willpower to continue dancing while you were struggling with diabetes?

My struggle was for many years. In part denial fueled my strength, and in part my passion for dance kept me going. In the beginning years I had absolutely no idea what I had ahead of me. Once I accepted my diabetes and realized how difficult it was to try to perform and dance all day on shots of insulin, even though I often wanted to quit, I just couldn’t. I had to try everything I could before saying I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to regret chances not taken. To dance was to live.

What are some of the key points that you share with people during your public speaking engagements?

I talk about my denial and the ways it put me in harms way, mis- judging how to manage my diabetes. How my denial affected my ability to properly discuss my struggles with my doctor. How vitally important it is for us to tend to our physical and emotional health. And of course how important dreams and passion are in life, and that by taking care of our health we can better achieve those goals.

Do you use dance when you work with people who have diabetes? If so, how do you use it?

Not always, but sometimes I do little routines, simple exercise that get people up and moving. I like to remind them how fun it can be to move, exercise does not have to be something you have to do, and are in trouble with your physician if you don’t. It can be fun and a joy! Of course the kids love to move, so with them I like to challenge their balance and also push them with some fun yet difficult moves.

How did you deal with feelings of fear when you received your diagnosis? How were you able to move past those fears?

I was in such denial I didn’t really feel fear in the beginning. And when the denial wore off I didn’t feel well, so I’d say I felt more defeated and overwhelmed than fearful. It was daunting to imagine how I’d ever get back to feeling strong enough to dance the schedule demanded of me. Of course that changed as I learned to manage my diabetes and get my health in some semblance of control. Once I was on track the fear was in the form of a low level of worry, could I maintain this life as an insulin dependent diabetic? Everyday I wondered that.

And then, when I had a low blood sugar attack while performing the fear was much more immediate, throwing fast acting sugar in my mouth between entrances hoping I would not pass out on stage.

In your opinion, what are the most effective ways of dealing with diabetes?

Anyone with diabetes must check their blood sugar levels, take their medication (insulin or pills), eat a healthy diet, and tend to their emotional health. I find people have trouble sticking to a program, often due to emotional issues. The clearer we can be with what is in our hearts, the more we will be able to follow what our brain knows is the right path. But keeping close to normal blood sugar levels is important to avoid the devastating complications related to diabetes.

How and why did you decide to write the Sugarless Plum? How long did it take you to write the book?

I’d been sharing my story for about 10 years, and been told so many times I should write a book, that I had it in my mind to do one day. But it was only after my mother was diagnosed with Cancer that I sat down and began writing. Watching her go through many of the same issues, the denial, the mis-diagnosis, all the conflicting information, and the emotional confusion, I realized my story is not just a diabetic one, that the issues involved are universal.

Finding an agent who believed I had a story took 2 years. Actually I wanted to write a diet and exercise book, but could not find an agent. When I met my agent, she said she could not sell another self help book, but she could sell it as a memoir. The actual writing process took about 1 ½ years.

Is there anything else you would like to share?

Finding a passion in life, something that makes us feel connected, that has meaning and value is important for us all. And we must take care of our physical bodies to be able to experience that magic that life can offer.

To find out more about Zippora or her book, The Sugarless Plum, click here.

]]> http://www.griercooper.com/2011/11/16/interview-with-zippora-karz-author-and-ex-soloist-with-new-york-city-ballet/feed/ 0 http://www.griercooper.com/2011/10/24/alonzo-kings-lines-ballet-a-review/ http://www.griercooper.com/2011/10/24/alonzo-kings-lines-ballet-a-review/#comments Mon, 24 Oct 2011 22:30:35 +0000 admin http://www.griercooper.com/?p=763

 

Alonzo King’s LINES Ballet is not your typical ballet company for so many reasons. At the top of that list of reasons is mastery of fluid, flawless movement. The dancers are polished, amazingly capable athletes and artists. They are the closest thing to perfection I’ve ever witnessed.

 

At intermission my daughter noticed that I was crying (yes, they were that good. I’ve never cried at a dance performance before). “Why are you crying, Mom?” she asked.

 

“Because they are the most beautiful dancers I’ve ever seen,” I said.

 

I’ve never seen such a breathtaking and unusual array of dancers: wild-haired Spaniards, tall, lithe Amazonian pixies, long, willowy African American men and women; incredible athletes of every size, shape and race. This is not a company where each dancer is supposed to be a perfect carbon copy of the next. Instead, every individual’s strengths and style are encouraged and showcased.

 

King’s choreography is fine-tuned for each dancer; it is expressive and progressive. “It was ballet but not really,” according to my daughter. It is ballet, but it is so much more. King takes ballet and gives it modern-day relevance. The dance vocabulary is all his own, but it’s a language that today’s audience can understand and relate to. His collaborations with other master artists such as Zakir Hussain and Pharoah Sanders add further vitality to his work.

 

King’s choreography is demanding!! There were times that it was hard to believe that I was seeing what I was seeing. Yet the dancers pulled it all off seamlessly. Watching them move with an understanding of how much energy is involved is awe-inspiring… and the dancers were on fire! Every one of them worked to their limit to “bring it”.

 

Many years (okay, decades) ago, a friend brought me to one of Alonzo King’s classes. I’d been studying classical ballet for more than 13 years at the time, 6 of them at the prestigious School of American Ballet and San Francisco Ballet School. I distinctly remember how difficult I found his class- mostly because the moves were so foreign- I couldn’t make my body do what was being asked. It was ballet, but not exactly… or rather, it was contemporary ballet as opposed to classical… something else entirely.

 

Those of us who live in the Bay Area are fortunate to have such an amazing gem in our midst. I plan to partake of that good fortune as often as possible.

 

]]> http://www.griercooper.com/2011/10/24/alonzo-kings-lines-ballet-a-review/feed/ 0 http://www.griercooper.com/2011/10/05/cynthia-leitich-smiths-jingle-dancer-a-review/ http://www.griercooper.com/2011/10/05/cynthia-leitich-smiths-jingle-dancer-a-review/#comments Thu, 06 Oct 2011 01:19:44 +0000 admin http://www.griercooper.com/?p=753

Author: Smith, Cynthia Leitich

Title: Jingle Dancer

Publisher: Morrow Junior Books, 2000

ISBN: 0688162428

Ages: 4-8

 

Jenna lives for jingle dancing. Watching her grandma dance to the brum brum brum of the powwow drum, Jenna asks if she can dance at the next pow wow. “Next powwow, you could dance Girls,” Grandma answers. “But we don’t have enough time to mail-order tins for rolling jingles.”

 

But Jenna wants her dress to sing. She loves the tradition that has been passed down through many generations of family. She puts on her thinking cap to solve her problem. Her days are soon filled with visits to other family members and friends, like Aunt Sis, Mrs. Scott and Cousin Elizabeth. Jenna hears stories from each and asks them to help her collect enough jingles for her dress. With a little extra help from Grandma, Jenna’s dress is ready to sing at last.

 

When the big day arrives, Jenna remembers each person who helped her and dedicates her dance to each of them, since they are not able to dance themselves.

 

Cynthia Leitich Smith’s lyrical prose relates the story of how a contemporary Native American Girl turns to family and friends for help. Watercolor illustrations by Cornelius Van Wright and Ying-Hwa Hu bring the story to life.

 

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