Have you ever wondered what it would have been like to be alive when the great classical ballets—like “Swan Lake” and “The Nutcracker”—were first created and performed? Do you wish that the best the performing arts had to offer were not limited to reprises of these century-old classics, that—in a culture where what passes for “high art” almost uniformly consists of the ugly, awkward, or depraved—there were a living art form devoted to portraying elegance, grace, beauty?

There is one realm where you can find it. But, in keeping with the monopoly of modernism on high culture, you will look in vain for these performances in the “official” arts. You will have to look to the realm of sports, and to an Olympic sport at that: figure skating.

Figure skating contains, in a slightly different form, the essential element of classical ballet: a stylization of physical movement—but specifically a stylization of its grace and power, its capacity for finely controlled, seemingly weightless movement.

Figure skating also conveys a quality that is unique, that cannot be represented in classical ballet. The speed of the skater’s motion across the ice, the fact that the skater rarely halts in his motion around the rink, the gracefully smooth fluidity that the best performers bring to their skating—all of these help convey an abnormally stressed sense of weightlessness, of effortless motion, of flight. It is almost as if skating conveys what humans would be capable of if they could free themselves from the impediments of gravity and inertia. This is why single-, double-, and triple-twisting jumps are so important to the art form; they help to underscore this sense that the performer is flying, by having him literally lift off from the ice.

Of course, to achieve a sense of effortless motion requires an enormous effort—the endless hours of practice needed to develop a flawless skating technique. The status of figure skating as a sport rather than a performing art is based partly on historical accident, and partly on a real need: the need to teach the demanding technical skills required by the performers. This influences how one should watch the Olympic performances, or any other amateur figure-skating contests. Although the performers are judged on the artistry of their performance, technical skills clearly take precedence.

This is not sufficient, however, to explain why skating has remained a sport. The physical demands of skating are not significantly greater than those of ballet. (Consider, for example, the physique of a Mikhail Baryshnikov or Rudolf Nureyev.) The primary reason figure skating is regarded as a sport is that it could find no place in contemporary art. After all, the essence of the modernist approach to art has been destruction: to tear down the standards and methods of every art form, to destroy melody in music, to destroy realism in art, to expunge rhythm and grace from the dance. Amidst this orgy of destruction, why should the modernists wish to help create a new art form? And of course, if modernists were ever to gain control of figure skating, we can be certain that it would soon become unwatchable (and unwatched). Sports provide a relatively clean and safe refuge.

This same trend—of genuine performing arts preserving themselves in the world of sports—can be seen in the case of professional ballroom dancing. Such dancing once had a prominent place in American art—not as “high art,” but as a well-regarded popular art. At one time, the world’s most popular professional ballroom dancers were Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, who performed on America’s movie screens. Yet today, ballroom dancing is also trying to transform itself into a sport; one of the most prominent international ballroom dance competitions, for example, is sponsored by the International Dance Sport Federation.

Its status as a sport may have helped preserve figure skating, but not without a few negative consequences.

A small but persistently annoying consequence is that it almost impossible to watch skating on television without hearing running commentary from an announcer—a common practice in sports, but an intolerable distraction in the arts. In amateur figure skating, this problem is mitigated by the contribution of figure skating’s best commentator, former champion Dick Button, whose critical analysis always contributes to the viewer’s understanding and appreciation of the technical side of the art.

More serious is the frequent overemphasis on double, triple, and, more recently, quadruple jumps. The jumps are an important part of the performance, but amateur skating sometimes rewards nimble jumpers (like Surya Bonalea and the notorious Tonya Harding) who have not mastered the more subtle requirements of footwork, spins, and actual skating, i.e., the ability to move smoothly across the ice.

An exception is “ice dancing,” a separate category of competition. In ice dancing, as opposed to pairs figure skating, jumps and throws are not allowed. Ice dancing emphasizes the close connection between the partners, the quality of the performers’ footwork, and their smooth progression across the ice. The sport is marred, however, by a sometimes arbitrary and politicized judging process (a legacy of years of Soviet domination). Its ban on above-the-shoulder lifts can also encourage couples to distinguish themselves through the novelty of their lifts, too often at the expense of elegance.

Perhaps the most substantial consequence of figure skating’s exile from the arts is the effect on its professional competitions and performances. These focus less on competition and on technical skill, giving primary emphasis and free reign to the artistic elements of the performance. Unfortunately, this causes some skaters to take both the artistic and technical elements less seriously, offering undemanding routines to forgettable popular music in a sloppy rock-and-roll dancing style.

But the best professional performances are extraordinary, and it is only on the professional circuit that one can see some of the greatest performers, including almost all of the great male skaters. Brian Boitano has a fine artistic sense combined with a powerful physical strength that allows him to perform several dramatic, trademark moves. Kurt Browning is one of the few skaters who is able to combine powerful jumps with fast, precise footwork, almost achieving the effect of tap-dancing on ice. (One memorable Browning routine was a tribute to Gene Kelley.) Until recently, professional skating also featured Scott Hamilton, a 1984 Olympic champion who can only be compared to Fred Astaire: a thin figure with an unprepossessing appearance, who possessed an unmatched technical skill, performed with seeming ease.

Professional performances can also bring the viewer’s attention to skaters who would otherwise remain unnoticed. Lucinda Ruh was widely overlooked in amateur competition because she is not a proficient jumper. Her recent entry into the professional circuit has allowed her to showcase her elegant skating and perfectly controlled spins.

Some of the most promising young skaters, however, are still in the amateur ranks, and we are fortunate this year to have one of the strongest ladies’ teams ever assembled going to Salt Lake City for the Olympics. Sasha Cohen and Sarah Hughes are consistently good performers, and Hughes, only 16 years old, has a poise and charisma unusual for her age.

The leader of the American team is Michelle Kwan, who has long dominated ladies’ figure skating. Kwan is unmatched at conveying the poise and grace usually found only in classical ballet. At her best, she also conveys the crucial sense of effortlessness, landing her jumps without noticeable strain and holding positions that other skaters cannot attempt. Moreover, as one of the oldest amateur competitors, at 21, she is capable of a more mature interpretation of the music.

There are some limitations of figure skating that are dictated by the medium. The skaters’ speed makes it dangerous to include more than two performers on the ice at one time, and the physical demands of skating limit routines to two to five minutes. The need for a large, unobstructed rink usually prevents the use of sets or props; a story or setting is primarily conveyed by costume only. And finally, in contrast to the great era of classical ballet, there are no contemporary composers to write music specifically for this art form. The result is that figure skating performances are usually presented, not as complex, sustained narratives, but as short, self-contained vignettes.

These performances, though, are one of the last refuges in our culture for the glorification of human form and movement, the only place where one can see these values in new, original performances. The art of figure skating is a glowing reflection of the cultural achievements of the late 19th century—and its enormous popularity provides some hope for a rebirth of the performing arts.