Scenes from the most magical evening at the ballet; I smiled and cried through the entire performance of #rohswanlake.
When I was young, ballet was my favourite escape. I’d spend upwards of 12 hours in the studio every week and being en pointe was my mediation (it’s impossible to think of much else when your ankles are screaming in pain and you’re tying to perfect a fouetté pirouette). A torn ankle and an S-shaped spine means my dancing days are long behind me, but to me there’s still few greater pleasures than that magical moment when the lights dim, the orchestra strikes up those first strains of Tchaikovsky, and the first ballerina twirls onto the stage. For three whole hours there’s no war, no politics, and no internal monologue; just the grace and beauty of the stage. As the queen @barbrastreisand once sang, “everything was beautiful at the ballet” - and no one does it better than the Royal Ballet.