Now I only dance in my dreams
“Indeed, many of my classmates have left [Georgia],” said Yelena Shillo who was a dancer with the state troupe in the early 2000s. “Only those who have alternative sources of income in their families have stayed here – a ballet performer’s salary alone is insufficient to live on.”
Yelena is an alumni of the Tbilisi school of choreography. It was her mom, a former ballerina too, who first brought her there. The mother had failed to make it in terms of a career, but her passion for ballet stayed with her forever, and she effectively passed it on to her daughter.
“Then there was the casting, and – oh, happiness! - I was accepted. I started to work at the theatre. It was the beginning of the 2000s, before Nino [Ananiashvili was put in charge of the theatre]. I was paid little to nothing, of course. Then Nino came, and the reforms began. It was obvious that not all performers would be allowed to stay in the troupe. And then one day as I stepped onto the stage for an audition, Nino said loudly for everybody to hear: “Shillo, you are staying in the troupe.”
“And so my dancing began, and, boy, was it a happy time! Happy despite all the hardships. I had a miniscule salary. Once, at a routine check-up, I was told off for having gained weight and was told to eat right. And I told them: “How can I eat right when my salary is what it is?
Once, we went on tour to China! This was the first ever time I’d left home and I was away for several months! We toured much of the country, visiting 24 cities in all. So many different dancing halls, so many different memories!
“And soon enough, I started to have back pains. We had this production of The Nutcracker, and one of the scenes involved a dance with chandeliers. Actually, it was a male part – these chandeliers, they were so heavy – but, as always, guys were in short supply, and so we, the girls, had to perform it. Every time I danced in The Nutcracker I knew I would be bedridden for a week. It became worse and worse until I couldn’t walk. I had to spend six months on sick leave. I was afraid I would never set foot on the stage again.”
But then I started to get better, and soon doctors said I could resume training and even get back on the stage.
At first, I only went there to train. Then they started giving me roles in which I didn’t have to dance a lot. It was then that I realized I couldn’t live without the theatre. I felt like I’d been born again.
Nevertheless, I was laid off. This happened in 2010, after the theatre had been closed for repairs. The overhaul was expected to take several years, leaving the troupe having to roam from one stage to another, using others’ rehearsal halls. And, eventually, some performers, including myself, didn’t receive a contract extension.
I didn’t know what to do. It turned out ballet was the only thing I could or wanted to do. It was then that I got pregnant, but I had a miscarriage.
I managed to pull myself together and decided to try to enroll in a university, at the theatre department. But as I took the so-called standard tests, I fell short of the entry score by a number of points – for example, I wasn’t very good at Georgian grammar. They took me in as a voluntary attendee, though, meaning I attended all the lectures, passed all the exams, but I was not entitled to receiving any document certifying that I studied there.
For a long time, I couldn’t bear to watch ballet. Even today I find it difficult to watch others dance. Though I am a teacher now and I give private lessons.”
I have two sons and am expecting a third child – it’s going to be a girl, finally. I will make sure that she takes up ballet - if I see that she has a knack for dancing.
Text and photos: Diana Petriashvili, Russian Language News Exchange Project