The funny thing about dreams is that sometimes they change.

Sometimes the dream costs too much. Sometimes it's not as alluring up close as it was when it glimmered and shone and winked at you from a distance. And sometimes, a big, splashy, attention-getting dream conflicts with a smaller, humbler dream that you never even noticed you had.

Until you have to make a choice.

That's what happened to Cem Catbas and his wife, Elysabeth Muscat-Catbas. He was a ballet dancer with a fistful of impressive awards, and a position with a respected American ballet company. She was an opera singer whose coloratura soprano and facility with soubrette roles have been praised by critics abroad. Just as they were about to enter their artistic primes, they left the professional stage to open a ballet school in Baltimore.

"My career-ending decision wasn't made because I couldn't dance anymore," says Cem, 30. "But a point came when I could choose something else. I thought there was a lot more that I could give."

So two years ago, Cem (his name is pronounced "gem") and Elysabeth, 37, bought the Ballet Academy of Baltimore, a dance studio in a former warehouse in Baltimore County.

Some of their 225 students already have met with notable success. One has launched a professional career with the Columbia City Ballet in South Carolina. A second has been accepted into the American Ballet Theatre's prestigious summer school. A third just won a four-year scholarship to study dance at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County.

Tomorrow, the academy will stage a combination student recital and performance of the second act of Giselle. The event will mix students and professionals: Cem will dance Albrecht and faculty member Neli Beliakaite will dance Giselle. "We'd like to have our own professional company in Baltimore at some point," Cem says.

He has his work cut out for him.

For whatever reason, Baltimore never has embraced dance. The city has not had a major professional troupe since 1995, when the acclaimed Alvin Ailey Dance Theater ended its five-year residency here, citing lack of donors. "Everyone told us that we have to start small," Cem says.

He did. Literally. Cem began dancing at age 10 in his native Istanbul, following in the pointy-toed steps of an older brother. A pre-adolescent boy in Turkey needs a certain inner fortitude if he is to embark upon a career wearing leotards.

"It's a lot more difficult to be a dancer in a country like Turkey, which is officially secular but has a Muslim culture," he says. "There are the same stereotypes about 'effeminate' male dancers as there are in the West, but there also are religious objections."

Still, he persevered, winning a first prize in the International Seleznyov Ballet Competition. While in his 20s, he performed with the Istanbul State Opera and Ballet, the Istanbul Contemporary Ballet, and finally, the Theater der Stadt Koblenz Ballet in Germany.

There, during the first rehearsal for a 1994 production of The Merry Wives of Windsor, he noticed a young, Virginia-bred soprano with huge hazel eyes named Elysabeth Muscat, who had just arrived after singing featured roles in Zurich and Vienna.

"It really was love at first sight. Once we got together, we were inseparable," Elysabeth says. They married the following year.

Living in Germany had advantages. Elysabeth had a two-year engagement, a situation unheard of in her native country. In the United States, dancers are paid for just 38 weeks a year, and opera singers hopscotch the country, traveling from production to production.

Cem was beginning to dance important roles, including the title role in Peer Gynt, and Elysabeth was singing solo parts, including Papagena in The Magic Flute. German critics praised her "bold, fresh soprano."

Everything was perfect, except that the couple, both expatriates, never really felt at home in Germany. In particular, Elysabeth was homesick for her family in Arlington, Va.

In 1997, Cem took a job with the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre, where he quickly distinguished himself in the corps. "He had good turns and jumps, and a great personality that really came across in character roles," says Terence S. Orr, the company's artistic director. "He has a very disarming, charming smile."

About that smile: Up go the cheekbones, down goes the chin, and in a moment, Cem is transformed into the Turkish twin of the Italian comic actor Roberto Benigni.

By 2000, he was dancing solo roles including the monk in Carmina Burana and the title role in Dracula, positioning him for a possible promotion to soloist at the next company vacancy, Orr says.

But the couple found themselves restless once again. Elysabeth no longer was enjoying performing as much as once she had. "Singing can be a very restrictive career," she says. "I was constantly worrying about the shape my voice was in."

Cem didn't burn out on performing, but he chafed at having to submerge his interpretation of a role to the conception preferred by a director.

So the couple began looking for a ballet studio to buy. In 2000, they bought the rectangular concrete building off Falls Road after seeing an advertisement in a trade publication. "Now, we get to be our own bosses," Cem says. "We get to pick the costumes and design the set, and I've started doing some choreography. It is such a luxury for me."

Elysabeth manages the business end of the studio, and also teaches voice to high school students in the Peabody Institute's Preparatory Division. In March, she gave a well-received performance at a faculty concert.

"It's fun and fulfilling to give your knowledge to someone else," she says. "It's almost like playing with clay, molding someone. And we're both still doing what we love."

And that might be the only dream that counts.

Performance

What: The Baltimore Youth Ballets student recital and Giselle, Act 2.

Where: Goucher College's Kraushaar Auditorium, 1021 Dulaney Valley Road in Towson

When: 3 p.m. tomorrow

Tickets: $10 for general adults; $6 for seniors, children

Call: 410-337-7974 or at the door