How to Practice Artistry in Ballet Class When Nobody's Structuring It For You

It's a real shame that artistry has rarely been taught in ballet class. I want to say never, but I haven't been in every class across time, so I can't be sure. Vaganova almost certainly covered it in her own work, but whatever she wrote seems to have gotten lost somewhere on the road to English translations — everything I've found by and about her is technical, with a side note about what an incredible performer she was. When I look into Cuban-trained dancers, everyone talks about how they're dripping with expression, but I can't find anything on how that's actually taught. I understand why. It's proprietary information. But also, I think the bigger reason is simpler: most ballet training either leaves artistry out entirely, or assumes that mastering the aesthetic will naturally produce it.
Aesthetic and artistry are not the same thing, though. The aesthetic is something we all replicate. Artistry is individual. It won't just appear on its own.
Why It's Rarely Taught
Part of the reason artistry gets left out of class is that it's so rarely defined. And I get it — defining "artistry" is a bold move. Trying to clearly explain what makes a performance more than we have words for can feel almost sacrilegious, like naming it might cheapen it. But we can't teach what we can't talk about.
So, in my own attempt to define it, I named nine elements. Did I cover everything artistry could ever be? No way. I'm sure there's more to it than I'll ever fully learn. But it's a real starting place. An entry point.
How to Practice Artistry in Ballet Class on Your Own
Just because I've started integrating artistry into all of my classes doesn't mean everyone has. And just because a teacher isn't naming artistry doesn't mean they aren't demonstrating it — it just makes it a lot harder for you to learn artistry from them. So if your teacher isn't talking about it, you take learning into your own hands. Which is probably why you're reading this in the first place. So if your teacher isn't talking about it, you take learning into your own hands — you start to practice artistry in ballet class on your terms.
Like most big things, you start small. Walking into class thinking, "I want to be more artistic today" is a goal you'll lose track of within ten minutes. It's too lofty to hold onto.
Instead, start with one question: what is one element of artistry you want to focus on today? Then get even more specific. What does exploring that actually look like, today, in this class?
That's the other thing about artistry — there's no right answer, only questions. Walk into class thinking "I want to practice double pirouettes" and you get a clear, pass-or-fail goal. Walk in thinking "I want to practice using my eye-line" and the goal is, frankly, infuriatingly nebulous. What does "practice your eye-line" even look like?
(Hannah and I talk through each of the nine elements in depth on her podcast, and she's put together a YouTube playlist of the full series if you want to explore further.)
You'll Never Actually Master It
Here's the other annoying/wonderful thing about artistry: you will never really master it. You'll keep growing for as long as you keep dancing, which means you can always get better at expressing yourself. That's a genuinely inspiring thing about being alive. It also means there's no finish line, no single moment where you can say "I've achieved artistry" and stop.
Which means what you actually need isn't one big goal. It's small ones you can come back to, again and again.
That's exactly what the Ballet Artistry Deck is built on. Each card is phrased "Today, think of [element] as..." You're not making a commitment. You're just trying something out. If it doesn't land for you, the card already gives you permission to set it down and move on. It's one phrase, so it's easy to hold in your head through class. It's a small card, so it fits at the barre or next to your water bottle, where you'll actually see it and remember to come back to it.
Try Them All On
Every dancer is naturally stronger at some elements than others. Some dancers are gorgeously musical. Others are musically adequate, because the aesthetic requires it, but musicality isn't where their real gift lives. Some dancers simply stand like a ballet dancer, because the aesthetic requires it, while others seem to magically transform from Puck to Dr. Coppélius to the Nutcracker Prince just by shifting their body carriage.
We each have our own natural talents, so it's worth trying every element on. Notice what clicks immediately, what genuinely piques your curiosity, and what you'll set aside for now and come back to later. By the way, your own teacher will probably never talk about whichever element comes most naturally to them, because they likely don't realize how good they already are at it. That's just how blind spots work.
You Don't Need a Separate Class for This
Artistry doesn't need its own dedicated class time. It actually grows best right inside technique class and rehearsal, because technique exists to serve you as you express yourself, not the other way around. Work on artistry and technique together in the same class. Keeping your artistry inquiry small and targeted is what makes that possible in the same ninety minutes you already have scheduled.
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