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.

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 [e-mail], or c/o DANCE MAGAZINE at 333 Seventh Ave., 11th Floor, New York, NY 10001. Deadline: June 15