We humans learn by experience, they say, but it turns out, not surprisingly, that not all experiences are
equal, in terms of learning. The method by which we learn something has great bearing on how well-
integrated the new idea becomes into our brain and body. There was a fascinating article in the NY
Times over the weekend, about how a large number of the leaders in the computer industry are sending
their own children to Waldorf Schools, where they don’t connect with technology until well into high
school, and instead spend their timing gardening and knitting and doing other manual tasks to help
them learn.

Ballet teachers understand this. We talk about the concepts working their way from the brain to the
body. Sometimes concepts work their way from the body to the brain. A well-integrated circuit is the
goal (the famous mens sana in corpore sano of the classical world). One can understand math concepts
on a deep level once one really feels the division of rhythm in music or dance. One learns to orient
oneself in space, and to let the autonomous nervous system regularize the distance between dancers in
a pattern on space. One learns to recognize patterns of steps, as well as patterns in space, in the same
way that one can learn “chunks” of words when learning a new language. All of these lessons happen
automatically, along with non-verbal lessons in dealing with one another, communicating with eyes and
gestures. No wonder that ballet used to be essential study for all the members of the court, with its
high need for strong inter-personal skills and diplomacy.

So, along with the marvels that technology can bring us (you’re reading my thoughts, whoever you are,
and whenever you want to!), I want to celebrate the physical world—the world of nature, and the world
of man’s (and woman’s) physical skills and their development and deployment for communication and
fun. And what a celebration we had Saturday night with the company’s bright and joyous evening of
repertory! It was a delight to such a large audience gathered together to celebrate elegance, vigor, and
the life of the mind translated into movement (I’m trying out a new, partial definition of choreography
here). Wit and brio and beauty—thank you, Matthew, Mary, Kirk and Douglas for presenting ballets
that allowed our dancers to display these virtues for us. Thank you, audience members, for taking time
in your life to come together with others and have real-time interactions that deepen our joy in life and
our joy in each others’ company.