Author Star Weiss takes a trip to an ice filled magical arena filled with pomp, circumstance and emotion.
I’m a sucker for figure skating, even though I still can’t tell the difference between a triple salchow and a triple loop, no matter how many careful diagrams they publish ahead of time in the local paper.
So, when the 2011 Canadian Figure Skating Championships came to Victoria recently, I was there, in the front row, just behind the CBC camera guys, (sometimes craning my neck around the TV camera) the day the senior competition began. In fact, I arrived early so I could watch—for the first time ever—some of the skaters’ practice sessions.
Very few people, I’ve learned, go that early, so the arena was nearly empty and the skaters just a couple of blade’s lengths away. The ice dancers were warming up, three or four pairs on the ice at a time…and yes, inevitably, there was one small back to back collision, but both skaters turned briefly to check the other out, and all was well. I imagine that happens a lot.
Each twosome was given a chance to practice to their own music, although others competitors were still on the ice. Couples would stop suddenly, in mid-manoeuvre, glide and chat a bit, and then pick up the music perfectly at a different point…complete mastery over their material. One couple (turns out they were from BC) clearly commanded the rink from the moment they set foot on it, all black, blond and dazzle I was close enough to hear the distinctive scraping of edged blades on ice as various skaters swooped by.
It goes without saying that they were young, fit, good-looking, and smiling, although during practice sessions the performers’ mask sometimes drops and a serious expression appears momentarily. It’s a little unsettling to see how instantaneously the smiles are put back on, but one of the truisms of figure skating is that it always combines extreme athleticism and skill with professional showmanship and entertainment value. Which makes me think it must be one of the most difficult competitive sports of all. (Can you think of any other sport where you are expected to smile while in the midst of your most dangerous moves?)
The opening ceremonies were next. The competition began with a pair who started off with a big throw, a clean jump and applause. I got goosebumps.
A skater fell and the crowd emitted a collective “Ohhhh” in commiseration. My eyes misted up unexpectedly. I couldn’t help it.
There’s something about being there, beside the ice, part of the collective consciousness, that pulls you in. The music enfolds you. When one pair hams it up with a Western theme, the crowd is completely won over, on its feet. Of course I am too. It’s irresistible.
There’s something inimitably Canadian about excelling on ice. If hockey is our yang go-for-the-gusto team sport, figure skating is our yin, elegant intricate individualized pursuit of beauty and perfection. We own it. And there is something deeply satisfying about this love affair.
Photo Credits:
Mylne Brodeur John Mattatall,
Patrick Chan
Feature Pic Shawn Sawyer
Courtesy of Skate Canada.
Hi Star. You should check out CBC’s “Battle of the Blades” if it comes back next year — the best of Canada’s icy yin and yang. Fun to see those burly hockey players learn to figure skate — and to see how they come to respect figure skating in a very profound and personal way. Now if we could just get those figure skating gals to don some hockey equipment…