Blog 5: Grace in Stone, Grace in Motion

Yesterday I visited Brantôme en Périgord, a stunning town nestled against—and even into—the mountainside. Its hidden treasure is the Abbaye Saint-Pierre, originally established in 769. Pressed into the cliff itself, this abbey was later rebuilt in the 1400s into the breathtaking structure that stands today.

The layers of history, the mystique of the caves, and the vibrant tradition of the local market make this town a standout highlight of my trip so far. At the market, you’ll find fresh fruits and vegetables, meats and fish, wild mushrooms, local honey, handmade pottery, jewelry, and clothes. But honestly, my favorite part was just sitting there, soaking in the scenery.

There’s something profound about being surrounded by so much beauty and knowing the resilience it represents—the number of times this place has been pillaged, how many wars it has endured—yet it still stands strong.

Walking through villages like this, seeing the intricate craftsmanship of each building, I couldn’t help but think about ballet. Ballet, like these historic towns, is built on a strong foundation. It’s detailed, elegant, and resilient. It can withstand the metaphorical wars of changing times.

Just like these towns must remain standing, so must ballet. The classical elegance of the art form shouldn’t crumble under the weight of fleeting trends. Trends may fade, but the foundation—the rigor, the discipline, the mastery—must endure.