Ray was multi-talented, exemplary in music, art, architecture, math, science, design—probably anything he set his hand to. This set the tone for us Bryan kids. By our early teens, we each had our "thing", a form of artistic expression that was unique to us, which the other siblings would not infringe upon. This was an unspoken code among us. Rose/Kaline's thing was piano, so I would only play on the sly, and never openly challenge her right to call the piano her own. C.R.'s thing seemed to be graphics, so I stuck to more decorative forms of graphic art, such as painting eggs or making dolls—but not muppets, 'cause that was Bill's thing.
Just before I turned 12, I decided I wanted ballet lessons. I was presented with a deal: one more year of piano lessons, and my first year of ballet lessons. I took the deal, and gained a career, and a lifelong passion for dance.
Ray used to drive me home from ballet lessons in Lexington and later Boston, sharing the duties with Mom and eventually C.R. It was always sweet informal time, usually very humorous.
Once I had started regular rehearsals and performances with the Boston Ballet Company, I would often need to be picked up in Harvard Square after the last bus to Bedford was long gone. Again, sometimes it was Ray. We'd swing off the highway and stop at one of the city's first fast-food franchises, and share fries and a hot apple pie. It was a lot like vacation—a break from reality-world. I'm grateful for all those rides. They made it possible for me to seriously choose a life in dance.
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Gifts From My Dad
Non-FictionA tribute to my father, Carroll Raymond Bryan, Jr. This bit of writing is my gift to my father who passed from this world three weeks ago. It is about art and love, and anything that is not up to that measure will not be found here. Author, artist...
