When I was in middle school, I did very slow waltzes to Les Sylphides as a member of the corps de ballet, slow not just because of the music but because the corps mostly poses and changes positions only during breaks in the soloist action.
This waltz is traditionally a pas de deux between a man and a woman, but our teacher choreographed it on two girls, both of whom I admired.
The ballet Les Sylphides is accompanied by an orchestra, but pianists also play the Les Sylphides pieces as solos. It’s a piece that lends itself to rubato, speeding up and slowing down. So romantic. I found videos of dancers doing the pas de deux, but the orchestra did not seem in love with the music. This piano version is more the way I like to think of the music:
I don't know why the video does not just show up. Sorry! Please go to the link!
Class today was ridiculously hot, and during barre, I thought to myself, “This was a bad idea. Mom was right. So when am I going to leave?” But I stayed the whole class. I was annoyed at my progress from good singles to bad doubles. I was annoyed that I didn’t try hard enough to turn out as I stood on one leg (waltzing…). Yet after class, as I took the subway home, I had that waltz stuck in my head. I imagined how it could be sped up or slowed down. I imagined how my dancing could follow the music. I wondered if I could put my love for the music into my dancing. Such a strong feeling about that music couldn’t be ignored. I was in love with a love song. And so I went from hot and frustrated to elated. I wanted to dance more, to see if I could do more than just technique, to show that love through my arms and head. I started walking in sets of three steps: BIG small small; BIG small small. And I knew that I wanted to go to class again the next day.
Here's a link to a less moving waltz sung by Piaf, with great rrrrroooobaaaaato.