Advanced Beginner’s Ballet at the 92nd Street Y

Last weekend I observed Gregory Nuber’s Advanced Beginner’s Ballet Class at the YMCA on Lexington at 92nd St.  Gregory was a dancer with the Mark Morris Dance Group; he was with the Pascal Rioult Dance Theatre prior to that.  He is my “teaching source”– the only dancer I’ve yet interviewed who is passionate about teaching the dance he performed: ballet.  This January he’ll return to Arizona State University, his Alma mater, to complete an MFA in dance so that he can teach at the university level.But for the past months he’s been coaching an eclectic group of students at the 92nd Street Y.  On the Sunday morning that I sat in there were eight students in attendance, all women.  The youngest was likely in her early twenties; the oldest was just as likely topping 70. 

Gregory told me once that he hates to teach without a pianist, and he has his own favorite– a sort of straight-faced foil to Gregory’s likeable dramatics– whom he alternately calls “Alan” and “Rich.”  In class Gregory announces the exercise at hand and stomps a tempo and calls out, “A nice little 3/4 please Alan” or “Four bar intro, Rich.”  He demonstrates at the barre and in the mirror before he paces the floor, eyeing the small class and doling out constructive criticism and compliments.  He sings along with the accompaniment.  Usually he sings his instructions, as in “first, pos, i, tion” and “demi-and-stretch, and rise.”  When Alan/Rich plays “Ain’t Misbehavin’” for the degages (leg lifts), Gregory sings the lyrics, but only until the class is visibly disoriented, at which point he quiets down and only snaps.

The class likes him.  The laugh at his sweet, sharp frankness.  “I’d like to suggest action as opposed to stasis,” he says during an early barre exercise, “so the next time we do this let’s try to be moving the whole time.”  His voice carries over the music when he gives advice during the barre work, tips like “activate your abdomen Jacqueline” and “relax your face Darlene” and even “are you all diligent recyclers?  I hope so– our earth is in crisis.”

Gregory flouts the convention of the YMCA dance scene in teaching his moderate-beginner students ronds de jambe (circular movements of the leg) at the barre.  “They tell me not to do it,” he says, “but I’m going to keep doing it.”  The students know the terminology.  They’re pretty good, and they look happy.     

“See how I let go of the barre?” he says in his demonstration with a put-on acid tone.  “Wasn’t that miraculous?” 

“There’s no need to have a death grip on the barre,” he continues, “because at some point it’s going to be taken away from you, and you’ll be forced to stand on one or two of your own feet.” 

That, of course, could be a either a literal-hypothetical or a neat little metaphor.