A Summer Gala June 22nd - July 11th The Shanachie Classical Ballet

Rhy'Din is in for a special treat as the Shanachie Classical Ballet presents A Summer Gala, which will feature a mixed repertory of dances performed by the Shanachie's own troupe of dancers, as well as a few surprise guests, including a series of short classical and contemporary solos and dances from various ballets and original works. The gala will also welcome a return to the stage by the lovely, acclaimed, and talented Anastasia De Luca. Come join us for an evening of music and artistry that promises to bring a smile to faces both young and old.

The gala will include solo, duo, and group performances from various classical and contemporary ballets, featuring:

Tony and Anya De Luca - Pas De Deux from Romeo and Juliet

Anastasia De Luca - Pas Seule (from within the Black Swan Pas De Deux) from Swan Lake

Anthony De Luca - An original contemporary solo danced to "Take Me to Church" by Hozier

James Willis - The Cavalier from The Nutcracker

Merethyl Cytria - The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy from The Nutcracker

James Willis and Lorent Munchhausen - Tybalt and Mercutio's Fight from Romeo and Juliet

Lorent Munchhausen - The Death of Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet

Merethyl Cytria, Darren Shaw, Michael Blanchard - The Pas De Trois from Le Corsaire

And much more!

((OOC Note: If there is a particular dance you would like your character to tackle, feel free. This is only a partial listing of featured dances. Everyone is welcome to post here or make use of this playable in your live RP and writing. And as always, just have fun with it!))

As she had every time she had danced the Black Swan in the past, Anya could feel the anticipation building in the auditorium as the music flowed around her, as she danced her way toward the expected finale. It was usually found in the coda of the Grande Pas, but for the Gala, she and Tony had adjusted the choreography to allow her to perform what she had become known for on Earth within the variations of the pas seule femme. Those who knew what to expect in the audience were waiting almost impatiently for that moment; those who did not were infected by their companions' excitement. Even her fellow dancers, watching from the wings, were eager to see the feat accomplished.

She could feel her own anticipation building, as well, almost a match for the nerves that had wracked her before she had stepped onto the stage for the first time in almost ten months. Sofia was her pride and joy, but the rigors of pregnancy and being a new mother had made training harder than she had ever expected it to be. But she had persevered, grateful to Tony for making a gala, rather than a full show, her return to the stage. Her stamina needed a little more time to recover, but she was getting there.

As the music swelled, she reached the moment they were waiting for, taking her position center-stage. The conductor held that last note for as long as she needed him to, knowing when to begin the crescendo that would accompany her purely by the flicker of muscles in her arms and legs as she threw herself into the much-lauded fouett's en tournant that had been known to make or break a ballerina's career.

A single fouett? was easy enough to perform - a single spin en pointe of one foot. The Black Swan demanded thirty-two fouett's en tournant, without traveling or pausing, and Anya had her own personal twist to the traditional number. As she spun, she could almost hear the watchers in the wings counting, her traveling eye fixed when it could on the detailing of the Circle balcony in front of her. It rarely prevented her from becoming dizzy, but like most dancers, she had learned to dance through that dizziness, and to learn when it was close to incapacitating her.

As she reached thirty-two, she caught a glimpse of hands rising in the audience to applaud, only to be forestalled as she continued, and she could not hide her breathless smile as she went on and on, spinning gracefully without more than a couple of inches travel in either direction. This had been why the Bolshoi had been so reluctant to let her go; this was what she had learned to do in the years apart from Tony. Anya De Luca did not perform a mere thirty-two fouett's en tournant - her standard was forty-six, and she was determined to deliver it every time.

Now she could hear not just the watchers in the wings, but the audience counting each turn, many of them having lost their way and on the wrong number entirely. Some counted too fast, some too slow, but Anya knew which number she was on. As her vision started to blacken, she reached that last turn with the final crash of the music and ended, triumphant, in the classical pose, her head held high, one hand raised above her head almost in a gesture of graceful challenge. And the audience exploded with applause, rewarding her for her astonishing feat.

Laughing, she bowed and left the stage, seeking out her dressing room quickly amid the hushed congratulations of the troupe she passed through. And once she arrived, she sat down hurriedly, her head spinning wildly. It had been a long time since she'd done that.