Last Night, I Dreamed Of Dancing
I suppose that that's what comes of taking class at night then watching Mao's Last Dancer but last night, I dreamed of dancing: of the wild flight the pas de chat the grand jeté ankles swift and crisp as deers' power rising from the soft plié the triple turn erect and effortless one perfect double tour. I don't suppose it matters much and yet this thrill remains this singing in my bones this certainty: I have become, somehow, a dancer and my femurs and the smallest winged ribs all know the spirit of the dance. And so I say, and mean something much more: last night I dreamt of dancing.
Posted on 2017/07/11, in balllet, poetry, Writing and tagged last night I dreamt of dancing, rough draft. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.
danseur ignoble 
Hmm, looks like dance dream night.
But I’m more the contemporary type – I need the expression with the full body, not only facework for emotions.
I can fast getting lost in emotions in good choreographies, or in improvisation.
The last choreography for example ended in a breakdown almost to the floor, and then erecting while drawing a line with your finger the body up from the floor, over the head and down again – finish.
The right fodder for me to completely drift off in hour.
Room for expression is one of the things I’m leaning to love in contemporary ballet. I feel like, no matter how much makeup you wear, they probably can’t see your eyebrows from the “cheap seats”—but a sweeping, dramatic port de bras tells all!
Have you seen Bejart’s “Bolero” with Jorge Donn? Donn is sadly no longer with us, but there are several videos on YouTube. It’s probably less expressive than what you have in mind, but your description reminds me a little bit of Bejart’s choreography.