This is what I was afraid of

And then there was Ashley Tuttle as Juliet. Tuttle has always been an exception among A.B.T.’s women—a pure classicist whose acting is subtle and true in a company that all too often rewards slam-bang power or blatant cuteness. Because she lacks obvious starriness, it took a long time for the powers that be to acknowledge her rare gifts, and now there is a serious question about whether she will be back next season: This performance had all the appearance of a farewell, with all the ovations and flowers and tears that are appropriate to such an occasion. But what a performance it was; what a way to go! From first to last, Tuttle gave us a totally believable and moving Juliet, dramatically convincing, beautifully danced. - from "City Ballet, A.B.T. Surprise: A Pair of Thrilling Finales" by Robert Gottlieb

I like Ashley Tuttle. I first heard about her as Charles Askegard's wife (they're divorced and he is now married to Candace Bushnell, the original Carrie Bradshaw who wrote Sex and The City) when he was still with ABT and he came and guested with our country and how she was this tiny girl who could do wonderful things. That was a long time ago. Later later, I remember reading a review about her, how clean her technique was and what a delight she was to watch. I then wondered why there wasn't hype about her the way there was with Paloma Herrera and Julie Kent.

In this docu about the ABT, entitled Variety and Virtuosity, which featured the stars of the company in all the best pas de deuxs of their repertoire, Ashley danced the lead in Clark Tippet's Bruch Violin Concerto, a neo-classical ballet that's very majestic. Unlike the other performers who did leads, though, she doesn't get interviewed. I guess they don't bother to get her interviewed because they're not marketing her as one of their stars. But when you see her dance, wow, she IS truly a delight to watch. My favorite part is her solo - she does all this clever, fancy footwork without making it look difficult (believe me, I could tell without getting up to try them) and her face takes on this coy, look-at-me, piquant expression and then she steps into Ethan Stiefel's able hands and he lifts her up into the air while walking to the center of the room and her face changes along with the music. It's hard to explain; the music swells into its recurring grand motif and she lights up, but not sharp like when you turn on the kitchen light, more like the light of the sunrise. She was so beautiful. It's not always like that when an overhead lift is done, otherwise I wouldn't be so affected. That was a super high point for me.

When I'm depressed about my dancing in this company, I think about Ashley Tuttle, who dances so beautifully but spent five years in the corps de ballet before she was promoted to soloist and another five years before she was promoted to principal dancer. The week after my birthday, I saw in the ABT website calendar that Angel Corrella was partnering Alessandra Ferri in R&J but was also partnering Ashley Tuttle on another day. I was thinking if I got as a birthday gift a chance to see R&J that week at the Met, I would be having a hard time deciding which cast to watch. While I adore Alessandra Ferri, I had already seen her do Juliet (a million times on video) and I think I would have wanted to watch Ashley do it for a change.

I was worrying yesterday about a boy in my company and now I realize I have worse, more important things to worry about. Something was mentioned that was so incredulous, that made me question how the administration valued the work the people in the company do. Was dedication and hard work and clean technique and flawless dancing so not as important as star quality, as a pretty face, as long limbs, as rich parents? When did this become a beauty contest?

My biggest worry about my dancing is that I'm thirty. While I look ten years younger and perhaps dance like I'm five years younger, I can't fight the fact that I'm thirty. My body will give out or give up eventually. My biological clock will start ticking. Having a baby and resuming a dancing career after that ordeal at my age would be impossible. I know it's all my fault that I left, but I keep thinking this punishment isn't worth the crime. I guess I could stick it out and eventually get promoted in five or ten years, but what will become of me in five or ten years? If I somehow defy age and still dance brilliantly at 40 (which I honestly think is a long shot) what waits for me after? Given that I had destroyed any chance to still have kids and lead a normal life?

Isn't that something to worry about? It can't be just me being paranoid, can it?

It is cosmically creepy that I'm bummed about this sucky thing that happened at work today and I find this review of Ashley Tuttle's Juliet and read about how bummed the reviewer was about not being to enjoy Ashley Tuttle for a longer period of time. Talk about opportune.

It's not like the entire day sucked, though. We were doing center exercises and I was super digging myself as I kept doing spectacular things. Remembering that made me think about what I really enjoy about dancing and how stupid political casting decisions don't really matter when I'm forty and telling my children what I used to do. I now look forward to ballet class tomorrow. It may not last forever, but I'm going to enjoy it while it does. Which is what I'm sure Ashley Tuttle is doing.

(Well, actually, I have no idea, but wouldn't that be a nice thought?)