Gently into Balance
A few years ago, Eesti Naine magazine published a story about the founders of Tasapisitasakaal.
You now have the chance to look back at how the studio got started.
It all came together thanks to the wonderful people working in our house — and thanks to you, who visit us.
Thank you, and have a beautiful autumn!
Gently into Balance
Published: 02.04.2010 / By Eda Allikmaa
Three women brought together by ballet created a studio where women who had only danced ballet in dreams now take on complex poses — in pointe shoes.
Studio Tasapisitasakaal was founded by former Vanemuine ballerinas Mari Savitski (28) and Katre Unt-Lidmets (40). They invited Jana Järvik (40) to join them — a friend and fellow graduate of Tallinn Choreography School.
The story behind the studio, opened the previous autumn, is full of surprises that defy conventional logic. Ballerinas — often considered, much like top athletes, to be otherworldly fanatics — leave the theater to start something of their own.
They rent a 19th-century three-story wooden house in Kalamaja. But instead of installing mirrors or buying exercise balls, their first tasks involve studying plumbing, electrical systems, and ventilation in order to adapt the building to their needs.
They had ambitious dreams: their dream club would not be a generic place for body toning but a real club in every sense of the word — a second home, a place for the whole family. Their goal: offer classes that support health, physical well-being, and the harmony of body and mind.
The house immediately charms with its cozy and sensitive, yet slightly elevated theatrical atmosphere — a tribute to the golden era of Russian classical ballet in the early 20th century. Much of the ambiance was created by set designer Liina Unt.
After a workout, visitors can relax in the sauna or treat themselves to a massage. The house also hosts a homeopath, a reflexologist, and soon a cozy counseling room.
Classes are also available for children — including language lessons, singing circles, and more. Tiny children can be looked after in a playroom while parents train.
From the beginning, children were part of the vision. Katre and Jana both had baby daughters, born just two days apart. Now three years old, they eagerly await afternoons when they can play and sing while their mothers work.
Katre openly dreams of her children continuing what their parents started — “the coolest club in Estonia”. That’s the only mindset that makes it all worthwhile — to find strength, even in tough times, to push through the impossible.
Two intense years of building the studio — including weekly commuting between Tartu and Tallinn — brought challenges and surprising self-discoveries for Katre and Mari. Here are some of the brightest moments, as the women remember them:
Spring 2007
Katre and Mari are on a ferry to Finland to see Anna Karenina. Also in the cabin is Katre’s husband, Erik.
They discuss theater life, frustrations performers face.
Katre:
“If I leave the theater, how can I just put everything I’ve learned — the one thing I’ve dedicated my whole life to — in my pocket and walk away?”
She recalls:
“I was watching The Nutcracker with my son Ludvig-Erik. I was translating the steps: ‘Come to me, you are dear to me…’ I narrated the whole adagio. He looked at me with wide eyes: ‘Mom, how do you know all this?’
That was a moment of recognition — I realized ballet is a language, and I speak it.”
Mari (pointing at a photo in the Eesti Ekspress real estate listings):
“This is the house I want. This could be our studio.”
Erik (tired):
“Why do you talk so much? Why don’t you just do it?”
Katre:
“Yeah… why don’t we, when we know exactly what we want?”
Summer 2007
Katre and Mari passionately discuss studio plans. When emotions peak, Katre grabs the phone and calls Jana.
Katre:
“Jana, we’re starting our own studio. Are you in?”
Jana (calmly):
“I need to have a talk with myself first.”
August 2007
At Jana’s kitchen table, the first planning meeting takes place.
They define the studio’s principles and decide all three will become equal partners and study for a year:
- Jana, working a government job, will study finance.
- Katre will attend massage school.
- Mari will go to Canada for a Pilates course.
A photo remains from that historic meeting:
Jana and Katre breastfeeding, Mari sitting at the table with papers, taking notes.
Meanwhile, their husbands babysit the older kids in the living room, drinking beer.
Autumn 2007
After several scouting trips to toy stores — and a firm decision not to decorate the playroom with pink plastic castles — Katre and Jana find themselves unexpectedly at a toy fair in Moscow.
They order creativity-boosting games for personal use and to sell — hoping to raise money for building the studio.
But the delivery is severely delayed.
The whole endeavor becomes “terrifying” (as Katre puts it), and requires overcoming fears, using a foreign language, and discussing a product they barely know.
Katre (on the phone):
“Hello, we ordered toys from you four months ago, and still haven’t received them.”
Voice on the other end:
“Slushai, Misha, those girls from Riga are calling again!”
The toys finally arrive nine months after ordering.
What follows is a box marathon through shops, kindergartens, and Christmas fairs.
August 2009
Katre and set designer Liina Unt are in Valga, in the home of a man who owns six sheds full of old furniture. They were referred here by restorer Meelis Kihulane — another person deeply involved in furnishing the house.
The women know exactly what they’re looking for: early 20th-century salon furniture with a lightly aristocratic feel.
It’s 10 p.m., dusk is falling outside, and there’s no electricity in the shed. With flashlights in hand, they move through narrow corridors between stacks of furniture like miners in a shaft.
The old man guides them: “Step onto that cabinet and look down, a bit to the left — there’s the chair I told you about.”
That evening, they collect almost all the furniture for the house.
August 2009 – Moving In
“Supplier” Jana stands at the door, handing over goods while receiving new instructions: “We urgently need a floor brush, light bulbs. And potty chairs — how could we forget those?”
Later, Jana walks back and forth in front of the house, handing out flyers for the soon-to-open studio.
A young woman with a stroller approaches:
“Are you starting baby classes? Oh, ballet for adults?! I always dreamed of becoming a ballerina — do you accept beginners?”
Jana is stunned and touched all at once — that people dare to pursue childhood dreams, and that they get to be the ones offering that chance.
She steps into the house for the first time on the studio’s opening day, September 15 — she’s allergic to renovation dust. On her first day, she struggles to find her way around the house, because even though reading architectural plans had by then become a joke among the trio, you can’t memorize everything from paper…
February 2010
That day, a signboard with the studio’s name and logo arrives — it needs to be mounted next to the front door. They debate how to attach the metal plaque to the wall.
Katre, to a journalist:
“Our problem is that we’re such strong-willed women — we don’t want to constantly ask our families for help. This whole thing stands here thanks to their support, but they’ve had to swallow a lot of our stubbornness and big dreams…”
Mari:
“Today at the doctor’s, when booking my next appointment, I realized — it’s almost here, I’m supposed to give birth in two months! I kept thinking I had plenty of time to prepare…”
Jana:
“But Mari, have we ever held back from giving advice?”
Katre:
“And please, don’t lie on the exercise ball while demonstrating that move.”
Mari:
“It’s amazing how quickly you’ve all forgotten what it’s like to be pregnant!”
Suddenly, laughter erupts from all three women — echoing from the basement to the attic.
You can read the original article here:
Tasapisi tasakaalu – Eesti Naine