Jana Al Obeidyine, March 2025
When we hear the phrase "ethnic dance," what comes to mind? Perhaps the fluid movements of belly dance, the graceful storytelling of Hula dance, or the powerful stomps of West African dances. Rarely, if ever, do we think of ballet. In her groundbreaking 1970 essay, “An Anthropologist Looks at Ballet as a Form of Ethnic Dance,” Joann Kealiinohomoku flips that assumption on its head. She argues that ballet—often seen as a universal or "pure" art form—is, in fact, an ethnic dance like any other, deeply embedded in the cultural values and historical context of the society that created it.
The term "ethnic dance" is often used to refer to dance forms outside the Western canon, implying that they are culturally specific, while ballet is presented as something more refined, neutral, or universal. But Kealiinohomoku challenges this distinction. She defines ethnic dance as any dance form that reflects the social structures, values, and aesthetics of a particular group of people. By this definition, ballet is unmistakably ethnic—it is the product of European aristocratic traditions, shaped by a unique historical and political landscape.
Ballet was born in the courts of Renaissance Italy and France, flourishing under the patronage of Louis XIV. Its aesthetics reflect the values of the European upper class: verticality and lightness over groundedness, symmetry and precision over improvisation, restraint over spontaneity. The en pointe technique—dancers appearing to float weightlessly—is a direct manifestation of these ideals. Even the storylines of classical ballets, from Swan Lake to The Nutcracker, are steeped in European folklore, reinforcing narratives that align with Western traditions of romance and heroism.
Kealiinohomoku points out that ballet’s costuming—tutus, tights, and satin slippers—is no less culturally specific than the beaded regalia of Native American powwow dancers or the colorful sashes of Ukrainian Hopak and Mexican Jarabe Tapatío. The physical training required of ballet dancers, with its emphasis on extreme turnout, hyperextended lines, and rigorous discipline, is not an innate or universal standard of movement but a culturally developed aesthetic preference.
For centuries, the Western dance world has categorized ballet as "high art" while relegating non-European dance forms to the realm of "folk" or "ethnic"—as if they are lesser, more primitive, or merely historical artifacts rather than living traditions. Kealiinohomoku’s work challenges this hierarchy, urging us to recognize that all dance forms, including ballet, arise from specific cultural contexts and carry embedded worldviews.
When we acknowledge ballet as an ethnic dance, we start to dismantle the false notion of Western dance as the universal default. This shift allows us to view all dance traditions on equal footing, appreciating them for their unique artistic and cultural contributions rather than ranking them on an artificial scale of sophistication.
More than fifty years after Kealiinohomoku published her essay, her argument remains relevant. The dance world continues to grapple with issues of representation, access, and equity. Ballet institutions are slowly diversifying, but the genre still carries an aura of exclusivity, often positioning itself as the pinnacle of dance training while marginalizing other movement forms.
Recognizing ballet’s ethnocentric roots does not diminish its beauty or importance; rather, it helps place it in a broader, more inclusive framework. When we stop seeing ballet as a "universal" form and instead as one cultural tradition among many, we open the door to a richer, more diverse appreciation of dance as a whole.
This is an invitation to consider "Western" dance forms, in general, in the same way we would any other dance form—rooted in history, shaped by tradition, and reflecting the values of the people who created it. In doing so, we take a step toward a more equitable and holistic view of dance as a fundamental human expression.