What “Open Level” Means
When I say “open level”, I mean that we are all agreeing to honor exactly where we are. No prior ballet training is required. My class will prioritize the least experienced participant. For the more experienced, I will suggest layers of complexity through movement options, concepts, and phrasing. These layers aren’t assigned; they are yours to choose, which makes the class a space to explore what your body wants, what your mind wants, and what feels right for you in the moment.
If you are new to ballet, I want you to remind yourself that you are exactly that—a beginner. This is a new experience, and it deserves curiosity and patience. There is no right or wrong, and difficulty can be approached at your own pace. Watching others with more experience is not a measure of how you should move. It is an opportunity to observe, to see possibilities, to be inspired—but not to compare yourself. Everyone in the room is exploring something different. Over time, your relationship with movement will deepen. You’ll discover what you enjoy, what excites you, and what challenges you. That is part of the journey.
For participants with more experience, open level offers a different kind of freedom. You are in an exciting position to explore what it means to be your own teacher. The person leading the class, in this case, me, helps shape the experience but does not control it. You are responsible for your own well-being and practice. If you want feedback, ask for it. If you want support, ask for it. This is your space, your class, your experience. The choice of how you engage—and how deep you go—is entirely yours.
Shared Space, Structure, and Responsibility
Dance class is first and foremost a social environment. We are sharing space, attention, and responsibility. Each person is asked to honor their own needs while also considering others. Of course, discomfort may still occur; no environment can be completely safe. But we can work together to make it safer, more responsive, and more respectful.
Conversation and questions are an important part of this. Ask what you want to know. Share what you feel. These exchanges guide the class and help everyone make sense of what they are experiencing. Movement can continue even during conversation. Tune in when you want. The class is yours.
Structure exists, but it is flexible. Barre, center work, and traveling phrases across the floor offer a framework. Structure gives people a sense of grounding and allows them to move in other ballet spaces with confidence. At the same time, flexibility is crucial. Everyone comes into class for different reasons. Some are exploring, some are experimenting, and some are revisiting their body after years of practice. The structure adapts to meet all of those needs while still providing a shared foundation.
On Pedagogy, Curiosity, and Care
As I write this, I am about four pages into Jessica Zeller’s Humanizing Ballet Pedagogies—the resonance with how I feel about ballet pedagogy is unreal (I’m like… where has this book been all my life??)!
What came up for me after reading these early pages was this: I have a wealth of knowledge—I understand ballet movement, steps, positions, and vocabulary. But knowing vocabulary is like knowing the alphabet—it does not mean you understand the book. You can read the same book hundreds of times and always find something new. The material doesn’t change, but you do. Guiding a class feels the same. I can teach the alphabet, but I am far more interested in what happens when people engage with it in their own way. Where can we go from there? I refuse to regurgitate material.
The quote below affirmed my approach to ballet pedagogy:
“The dialogical component of education is ongoing—not reducible to a simple method… the fundamental goal of dialogical teaching is to create a process of learning and knowing that invariably involves theorizing about the experiences shared in the dialogue process.”
I am learning alongside everyone in the room. I am learning how each person comprehends movement, how their background shapes their experience, and how that experience interacts with my facilitation. Pedagogy, as I understand it, does not rely on control, manipulation, or hierarchy. As Zeller also writes:
“It is about the possibilities that emerge when pedagogical inquiry supersedes pedagogical power, when curiosity and care become more valuable than exerting control or wielding status.”
Because this idea—prioritizing inquiry, curiosity, and care—resonates with my own experience, the word “teacher” does not fully capture what I do. I am a facilitator, a time keeper, a guide. I create a space with specific agreements, and invite everyone in the room to participate in upholding them.
I hope my thoughts have brought some clarity and insight into what I believe the potential of an open-level ballet class can be. It excites me to continue developing a practice that prioritizes shaping a space that supports beginning or continuing where we are, exploring freely, and engaging thoughtfully. I hope to see you at an upcoming open-level ballet class!