Carlos Pons

In Sickness and in Health

Published Friday, 20 August, 2010 | Comments

To answer my own question from a few days ago: what happens when you put fifty dancers together in a poorly ventilated studio during a heat wave reaching 46 degrees?

Flus and colds, that's what happens.

Yesterday as I prepared for the 8.30 am floor barre I started getting that strange, coldish feeling that weakens you immediately and which you pray will soon pass. But you know it won't, particularly as you've been coughing like a T.B positive romantic poet all through the night before. As soon as floor barre was over, I knew I had to have a break or else I'd spend the rest of the summer school in a hospital bed.

Fat chance.

Straight after we had our ballet class, and when I asked to be excused, the teacher told me to do the class, but to take it easy, as I didn't want to injure myself during the following five hours of rehearsals. I resisted the urge to cry and stood by the barre like a zombie. At the centre, my allegro felt like and adagio, and trying to turn with a head full of mucus was definetely not going to work.

And on we went to men's class, and then pas de deux, and Don Q rehearsals, and after each I felt I was going to fall flat on my face from exhaustion. I gathered all the courage I had and walked up to the choreographer who's piece we'd be rehearsing next. I asked if I could please go rest for a couple of hours so I could be in better shape for the afternoon rehearsals.

She was nice and understanding; she gave me some paracetamol and told me that not in a million years could I miss her rehearsal. So I stayed. And the run-through felt like a bizarre purgatory with a samba soundtrack. Lunchtime finally came and after some food, I had two hours' sleep and managed to get myself through the afternoon rehearsals.

Through much of the morning, and particularly the out-of-body experience that was the run-through before lunch, I was raging inside thinking that it wasn't fair of the teachers/choreographers to keep me there in such a poor state. Not only could I hurt myself, but also whoever I was dancing with, and I was potentially spreading whatever virus I had to everyone else. If this wasn't a dress run, but a normal day, surely my abscence shouldn't be such a great deal?

Yet when you're training that can be so- you are only working for yourself. When you work like a company, any abscence does make a difference. But I was still bothered by the fact that I wasn't looking after myself properly by staying there, sweating like mad in that heat.

I'm not sure if holding on like that was the wisest choice at the time. But I have to admit I was surprised by my strength and will. Yesterday was not a dress run, or a performance even, but it wouldn't be rare to find myself in such a state right before going onstage and it's comforting to know that with some will power, you can make yourself dance even when your body is about to collapse.

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