The School Of Dance
#102 - ‘While you still have time left, find a place where you can live out your dreams. Even if it is on top of a mountain or in the middle of the desert.’
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THE SCHOOL OF DANCE
Jeanne Belle Beaupre’s School of Dance, located in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans has schooled many top dancers and ballerinas from throughout the country.
The School is also a regular stop for top performers in the US and the world and has presented the world’s finest to standing room only audiences for years.
Two months ago, Jeanne Belle presented the troupe from Ukraine, the Dancers. They ran for two weeks before going to New York.
Chloe Garbo, from France, and the Russian Mikhail Smirnov, performed extended shows earlier in the year.
The School is in what was once a warehouse for Jax Beer. Refurbished over the years with a stage and orchestra pit, it can now house up to seven hundred as second floor seating has been added.
The relatively small hall can still provide the larger touring companies and orchestras with the room needed for their performances. The acoustics are excellent. The New Orleans Symphony calls The School its home.
The patrons enjoy a warm and up-close view of the performers. The School’s smaller size and growing acclaim ensure pricey tickets and extended runs. It is a popular venue.
It is a busy place. Dancers train in the early hours while the afternoons and evenings are given over to the touring companies and orchestra.
No longer touring with her troupe, Jeanne Belle still puts on her own shows at the dancehall as well as hosting dance groups from around the world.
Jeanne Belle recently provided a history of The School and her early days in New Orleans to David Porter, the Arts and Entertainment Editor for the New Orleans Times Picayune.
“Jeanne Belle, tell us about The School of Dance.”
“As you know, David, The School was originally owned by Madame Sophia Rhinehart, my mentor and an accomplished dancer herself, whose family purchased the building from the Jax Brewery during a time of trouble for the company.
“They bought the building so that Sophia could pursue her dream of having a dance school. They did so after she promised her parents she wouldn’t leave for New York or wherever else her dancing fortunes might lead her.
“I had won a scholarship to The School after having won several competitions while in high school. The scholarship provided tuition with the possibility of earning my way onto the dance troupe.
“When I first arrived in New Orleans, I worked at several local restaurants to earn a living.
“I met my husband, Richard, when I was working at Galatoire’s.
“He is from California and was at Tulane earning his Doctor of Medicine degree. I moved from the apartment I shared with two of my schoolmates into his apartment in the Garden District.
“We were soon married in my hometown with my family in attendance.
“For our honeymoon, we drove west to California where I would meet Richard’s parents. Along the way we took a side trip to Death Valley.
“I was, in my mind, following in the footsteps of my most inspiring dancer, Marta Becket, an accomplished ballerina from New York City.
“She and her husband were traveling out west and drove through the town of Death Valley Junction, located on the eastern edge of what is now Death Valley National Park.
“In the small community of few residents, they came upon an abandoned theatre in disrepair and for sale. Marta fell in love with the building. She saw in it the place where she could realize her dreams. Her raisin d’etre.
“They purchased it and moved from New York City to the dusty little desert town.
”They refurbished the place, and it became the Armagosa Opera House and Hotel. Marta would realize her dreams and most creative endeavors and happiest days putting on her solo`recitals.
“Her performances drew people and tourists throughout the desert area and beyond.
“We were fortunate to see one of her recitals and to meet her. The time she spent with me, the two of us talking about dance, is one of my most cherished memories.
“On a wall inside the Opera House is one of Marta’s quotes: ‘While you still have time left, find a place where you can live out your dreams. Even if it is on top of a mountain or in the middle of the desert.’
“When we returned to The School in New Orleans, I won a place on the touring troupe and was touring regularly as Richard was completing his degree and residency.
“I realized I would not become the elite dancer I wanted to be. Still loving the dancing life, I slowly became Madame Rhinehart’s assistant, managing more and more of the company’s affairs and students as well as traveling with the troupe.
“Sophia passed away suddenly after a short illness. I ran The School for Sophia’s husband, Charles, but after her death, he no longer had the heart for it. He wanted to sell The School, and the building.
“Richard and I were in the right place at the right time and managed to acquire both.
“Thus began my life as the head of The School of Dance. The School has continued to grow since.
“Richard graduated from Tulane and began his practice in New Orleans.
“My traveling days gave way to the business of running The School. I continue to dance on occasion staging my own solo performances. This brings me great joy as I have continued dancing all these years.
“I had the freedom and wherewithal to do what I loved. Interpretive dance. As Marta Becket had done.”
It had been assumed that Jeanne Belle bought The School with Richard’s help and money. While Richard did certainly help, the money came from elsewhere.
Jeanne Belle arrived in New Orleans late evening by Greyhound two days before school was to begin. She had traveled all day from her home just south of Lake Charles, near the Texas state line.
From the Greyhound bus station, she took a taxi to Canal St. where it borders The French Quarter. In a dense fog and light drizzle, she proceeded to walk the few remaining blocks to the Barataria Hotel where she had already prepaid her rent for her first month.
She relished the magic of The Quarter at night. The gas-lit streetlights led her past walled gardens and darkened alleyways and plant-laden balconies on historic brick buildings.
Of the few people on the streets, she noticed two men that appeared to be following her. They closed the distance on her block by block.
Looking back again, they were close enough to make eye contact, and alarmed, she turned at the next corner and ran.
She passed a shadowed alley midblock and turned into it and crouched down behind a cluster of garbage cans.
Seconds later, the two men stopped at the alley entrance and looked. She was ready to start screaming.
Seeing nothing, the men continued down the street.
All’s good, thought Jeanne Belle.
Then came the sound of footsteps coming up the alley behind her. She turned her head to see the shadows of two men coming toward her.
They got to the garbage cans and stopped.
She could have reached out and touched one of them. She fought the panic growing inside, afraid to breathe, and thinking they would surely hear her pounding heartbeat.
One spoke to the other in a low frightened tone, “They’ll kill us if we’re found with it.”
“Enzo, they might kill us anyway! Ditch it, man! They’ll have no proof. The deal was botched. We can tell them it was Russo’s people. They’ll know we got scared.”
“I am scared, Luca. I got kids.”
“I’m out o’ here, paisano, do what you want!” He backtracked down the alley and disappeared.
The two men that had followed Jeanne Belle reappeared at the head of the alley.
Enzo dropped a satchel bag behind the cans and ran. It landed beside Jeanne Belle.
The other two, seeing in the dark who they took to be Jeanne Belle, gave pursuit, running past her and her hideaway.
After the men cleared the alley, Jeanne Belle picked up the bag and returned the way she had come.
She made her way to the Barataria Hotel, checked in and once in her room, she looked inside the bag.
It was full of money. Large bills. Two hundred thousand dollars' worth.
Only after she and Richard married did she reveal her stash of cash. They put the money to good use – deposits on loans for Richard’s medical practice and for Jeanne Belle’s School of Dance.
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Wow, good one, cowboy!
Wow, James Ron! That is quite a story! What an unexpected ending. I am curious about your own connection to this story. It is an unusual piece for you. How did you come about finding it?