Preludes and nocturnes: dancers dream about dance: dreams are often stages for our obsessions. For dancers, this can take on a more literal meaning. In the February issue, we invited you to write and tell us your dance dreams. Here are some responses

Dance Magazine, June, 2004 by Ricky Harris, Linda Pott, Yann Tyng Kooi, Ashley Bittencourt, Melodie Carr

SLEEPING BEAUTY

In 1970 I was attending the University of California at Irvine for my master's in dance. One of the main subjects was choreography, and I felt blocked. After reading an article in the Los Angeles Times about fostering creativity through dreams, I decided that I would try their suggestions. Every night I would lie in bed with eyes closed, imagining different kinds of choreography. Ore night I woke up suddenly, realizing I had been dreaming about a beautiful piece of choreography. I snatched a pad and pencil, and jotted down everything I could remember. In the morning, I began interpreting the notes in movement, many in ways I had not moved before. After I presented my piece in class, my teacher smiled and told me, "I see the glimmer of a good choreographer." I had broken through a wall. Since graduating, I've been choreographing routines for competitive ice skaters.

RICKY HARRIS

LAREDO, TX

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

I was a dancer for twenty-three years. I now have a toddler and am about to have a second child. I recently dreamt I was at my parents' house when I realized I was late to class and had left my dance bag, with my shoes inside, at the studio. I rushed to the studio, where I had to walk the perimeter of the classroom (which was packed with students) in search of my bag. Finding it, I quickly put on the shoes, realizing too late that they weren't mine. These were badly sewn leather slippers that were a little too big. When it was my turn to rehearse, most of the other girls hung back. We were supposed to be doing grands ronds de jamb ending with jeles. I felt like I had a lead bottom; I could not jump high enough. The teacher scolded me and I tried again. Finally I said to myself, "I'm nine months pregnant! No wonder I can't catch any air!"

LINDA POTT

THOUSAND OAKS, CA

FEAR OF FLYING

When I started ballet as an adult, I had problems with grand jetes. I couldn't jump high enough, get my legs split open, or get my knees straight. One night I had a dream that it was World War III. I had been caught by soldiers. Their method of torture was to make everyone do grande jetes across a large area of barbed wire coiled and twisted with evil-looking spikes ready to tear some flesh. In order to sail across it you had to jump really high, get at least a 180-degree split, and get your knees straight. I can only remember waiting in terror for my turn. I don't know if I made the jump. That was one dancing dream I'd be glad to do without!

YANN TYNG KOOI

SINGAPORE

PERFORMANCE, ANXIETY

I have this nightmare frequently. It always feels like it's been going on for awhile by the time I "fall into it," so I'm late and flustered from the outset. There's a theater, lots of backstage bustle, light cues being tested, an orchestra warming up. It feels just like a show's about to begin.... Egads, a show is about to begin! And I'm supposed to be in it! But I don't even know what the show is, much less any of the choreography. This usually evokes such panic that I wake up, but sometimes I remain asleep, in which case there's nothing to do except try to make the best of it.

ASHLEY BITTENCOURT

HOUSTON, TX

TOSSING AND TURNING

Many years ago I experienced two nights of intense dreams in which I was executing a continuous pirouette. Its many turns gave me the time to feel every nuance needed for executing multiple-turn pirouettes. Over the following week, I worked on the adjustments I needed to make it work in reality. I knew from my dreams exactly what I needed in a way that no teacher could ever explain. By the end of that week, I could consistently execute quadruple pirouettes to both right and left. Now, as a teacher and choreographer, I often get past "choreographer's block" in my dreams, which is why I keep a pencil and paper beside my bed. Interestingly, as my body ages, these dreams are my only opportunity to continue performing ballet, and I savor every one of them. Somehow, my body not only remembers what it used to be able to do, but in my dream life it has been improved by all I have learned in my years of teaching. These dreams always give me a smile.

MELODIE CARR

MUNCIE, IN

WANTED: COMIC DISASTERS

Do you have a humorous Nutcracker story to share? It may have been a nightmare at the time, but if it's funny in hindsight, we want to hear it. "Wardrobe malfunctions," uncooperative sets, practical jokes--if they make a great story, we'll include them in our December Nutcracker feature. Send anecdotes along with your name, phone number, and email or street address to Cheryl Ossola at chaos838@yahoo.com, or c/o DANCE MAGAZINE at 333 Seventh Ave., 11th Floor, New York, NY 10001. Deadline: June 15