You can't say that!

As if professional ballet isn’t hard enough, a Sydney Morning Herald review of the Australian Ballet (TAB) claimed in May that the company was looking “unusually thin this [2024] season”. The response was swift and decisive with the AB Artistic Director, David Hallberg and principal dancer Benedicte Bemet appearing on breakfast TV with claims that this comment was “triggering” for dancers. That dancers’ bodies are not a site for comment or speculation, was the message, and that this was harmful for the dancers. There was strong media commentary across varied outlets for a couple of days and then the furore appeared to die down, as is the case with the immediate and strident nature of contemporary social commentary.

Full disclosure here. My take on this matter was expressed in a letter to the newspaper that was rejected for publication. I felt that the offending review was incoherent and showed an ignorance and disregard for the dancers, the work and the artform.The “thin” comment was just one of many stream-of-consciousness pronouncements and made without context. So, I was left puzzled that TAB gave such nonsense any oxygen. 

But they did. The response from the company, including a press release and the TV and radio appearances mentioned above, came a week after the May 5 publication date of the review. It was carefully articulated and executed (unlike the careless review it responded to). 

All this leaves a range of questions about the role of the dance critic, about the safety of dancers, and about the culture of elite classical ballet as these relate to discussion of dancers and the instruments that they use in expressing their art – the body. 

Who’s the biggest critic?

One of the well-documented risks of being a dancer or elite athlete is anxiety over body image. This is especially the case in elite aesthetic activities such as gymnastics, dance, and others, where the look of the movement is a central focus, and where clothing is often minimal. Dancers and athletes spend years getting that aesthetic “just right”. It doesn’t take long in the studio to work out whether your body is acceptable or not. And don’t let me get started on the compliments that even a hobbyist ballet student can attract if their bodies change to more closely resemble the stereotypical aesthetic. Dancers can be their own biggest critics.

Body shaming is being called out across a number of sports. As of this year, AFL players do not have their weights published in the media and skin-fold tests are out (AFLW players have never had them published). Swimmer Lani Pallister recently spoke about the shame of living with an eating disorder. However, gymnasts are still being weighed in Australia with the athlete or parent’s consent (from the age of 10!! And this is stated in the Gymnastics Australia Body Positive Guidelines document).There has been an outcry against the abusive treatment of gymnasts by coaches and the industry. This is also the case in swimming. Back to ballet, and the legendary Carlos Acosta (Director of the Birmingham Ballet) has spoken out about the expectations in ballet for women to be very lean. (Though admittedly, he seemed reluctant to make these observations.) Royal Ballet Principal Steven McRae spoke to me earlier this year of his work toward gaining muscle and strength during his multiple injury recoveries, in spite of the instinct to present with a streamlined look. Yet, if you are a commercial dancer with an agent, your weight and other physical dimensions are published for casting purposes and are offered for critical assessment to anyone who googles a performer. Classical ballet favours a slighter and lighter than average build. Dancing on pointe, jumping, travelling across space, falling and recovering, being lifted, partnering – these are some of the activities that are more easily achieved at a lighter weight. 

From the inside

There is also a question of how well we see ourselves from inside a cohort. In the culture of elite classical ballet, how easy is it to identify whether the aesthetic for dancer physique is skewed? How are benchmarks set for this, given that although every body is unique, quite a uniform look is still sought across a company, whether this is conscious or not.

When insiders have a shared world view of what constitutes a healthy body, how possible is it for professional staff such as dietitians and psychologists to monitor and encourage an objectively healthy weight for an individual dancer? Do dance nutritionists and psychologists have a role to create optimum physical and mental health for dancers, or is their job tempered by the company and dancers’ desire to find the fine line between optimal health and least possible body mass? Certainly sports nutritionists and psychologists work within required parameters with overriding focus on performance. But many athletes have distinct stages in their training which includes down-time and then building or even shredding for particular events. Ballet dancers have a hectic schedule and must maintain their performance physique across most of the year.

The paradox of the mirror

It is estimated that mirrors have been used in Western concert dance since some time in the 18th century. Dancers used the immediate visual feedback to perfect movements. And we still do. Not many studio owners of even the most rudimentary schools would get away with a mirror-less space today. Something that interests me is that TAB identified daily mirror use as one of the factors making dancers vulnerable to poor body image and excessive self-criticism. They are self-aware of this. What is the TAB doing to change this mirror-centric way of working? What are any of us doing?

We know that mirrors are useful for feedback and corrections. But according to a 2019 International Association for Dance Medicine and Science (IADMS) resource paper for dancers written by Sally Radell, although the mirror has many advantages for correction, it can also negatively affect self-perception, provoke excessive comparison with others, and impede proprioceptive and kinaesthetic understanding. Excessive use of mirrors also breaks expressivity and artistry as dancing becomes more self-conscious. Of course, the image in the mirror is also in two dimensions, so not representative of what we or an audience sees. Some research based on tertiary dance courses (cited by Radell) also indicates that educating dancers on how to use the mirror in a helpful and not harmful way just doesn’t work. Yet we don’t seem to be able to tame this tool. It seems to enslave us. The social media “mirror” has its own role to play.

Triggering

As the AB has been clear, comments on dancers’ bodies are triggering. Personal comments can be hurtful and offensive. If a pre-existing psychological condition exists, such comments can indeed be triggering, according to psychologists. One wonders though, given the gap between the offensive comment in question and the ballet’s retaliation, whether this was a case of many dancers’ being individually triggered and approaching management for support, or whether their response was an orchestrated opportunity to address a potential trigger? Certainly dancers should not need to have comments about their bodies aired in the media. Yet when it is a generalised comment, in the context of a poorly written review, how seriously should it be taken? Is the company not triggered by the other barrage of insulting pronouncements contained within this review? And if not, why?

What’s my job anyway?

As a dance writer and reviewer, I see my role as being firstly a lover of the artform. I attend performances with the prospect of having a joyful experience and coming away moved, enlivened, and often transported. So, if there is something palpably wrong going on with a dance work, in its choreography or execution, I am not gleefully rubbing my hands in anticipation of a well-earned verbal spray. It feels a bit mortifying. What is the truth for me? What needs to be said? What is extraneous to that, and potentially damaging? 

To be allowed to publicly comment on art is a responsibility. Without the artform, there is no commentary, no criticism, no discussion. Critics must also be honest in their assessment of a work and how satisfying it is for an audience. This is especially so when that art is largely funded by taxpayers. 

Is it the critic’s job to comment on the physique of dancers who are presenting work? I would say no, unless there is a concern about the health and well-being of the dancers. In this case, it is a conversation to be opened-up seriously and not presented as a de-contextualised throw-away comment in a review. Remember also that no one can control the way that others see them. Whether these opinions should be expressed however, is another thing. It is also relevant to note that while “fat shaming” has long been called out, people in general often feel that it’s okay to say that someone is “skinny”, and it’s often expected to be accepted as a compliment. This is of course partly what TAB is trying to point out. 

Will the issue of dancers, health and body image remain constant sites for anxiety and get reiterated over and over across the years? Is there a double standard that has ballet companies, on the one hand, be super protective of dancers, while at the same time accepting extreme physical standards? Ideas about “ballet bodies” are formed in dancers at such a young age that some extreme cultural changes will need to occur if anything is to change.

In the culture of elite classical ballet, how easy is it to identify whether the aesthetic for dancer physique is skewed?”