Sunday: Get On The (Struggle) Bus

This morning, perhaps due to the time change but perhaps also due to the fact that we’re all up to our eyeballs in alligators right now, the struggle was really, really real.

Barre was … well, meh about sums it up. It wasn’t the worst I’ve ever done, but I also wasn’t entirely awake, and my legs felt like they weighed about 48 kilos each.

Center tendus were … ugh. More like tendon’ts. I got through the first version without too much awfulness, but when we ran the reverse I kept changing the facing of my hips when I shouldn’t have and, as a result, winding up on the wrong leg, and then having to do this tendu-failli-tendu thing, and then sometimes I’d have faillied the wrong leg somehow and I’d still be wrong, and I’d just go, “Feck it,” and coupé over in whatever way would get me to the right place ’cause ain’t nobody got time for dat.

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“Wait … which inside leg???” –Basically me. Via Pexels. (This one’s for Anna :D)

Adagio was at least back to meh, instead of actively WTF-worthy. When I’m “on,” adagio feels fairly effortless. When I’m off, I adage like a spatially-challenged stork with some kind of substance-use disorder. I still get through it, but it’s … um.

stork-bird-animal-fly.jpg

Also basically me. Also via Pexels.

So basically I made it through the adage at a more-or-less acceptable level while lamenting Thursday’s effortless extensions and wondering why my legs continued to experience enhanced gravity, whether last night’s sleeping pill would ever wear off, and exactly how much postnasal drainage could actually dump itself down my throat before something horrible happened (the answer: a lot, apparently, as nothing particularly horrible happened during the remainder of class, regardless of the constant stream of sinus goop working its way down the back of my throat).

Going across the floor, things finally began to improve. First off, the talking-to L’Ancien gave all of us about using our weight and our plié shook free of the cobwebs (I think it probably happened while we were doing 6th port de bras in the adage) and rolled into play, and some very, very nice turns resulted (though there was that one triple with way too much force … sometimes I get excited about turns and forget that you don’t need to use all the grand allegro booster rockets).

Second off, I realized that we were all struggling along together.

To whit: uur first turns combination was exceedingly simple—tombé-pas de bourrée to 4th-en dehors-repeat-repeat-rotation-en dedans, then straight into the second side—and did exactly what we all expected it to do so nobody had to think.

Our waltz, on the other hand, was simple but remixed familiar elements in a new way.

We’re all good friends with balancé-balancé-waltz turn-waltz turn-tombé-pas de bourrée and then whatever.

This time, JMH gave us:

balancé-balancé-waltz turn-waltz turnCHAÎNÉ-CHAÎNÉ-CHAÎNÉ (petit developpé)-tombé pas de bourrée to fourth-en dehors-tombé back-en dedans (dancer’s choice: I did attitude turn en dedans because it’s in our Showcase piece; finished to arabesque allongé).

We all had to mentally yell at ourselves to keep from going balancé-balancé-waltz turn-waltz turn-tombé-pas de bourrée… I suspect that must’ve been pretty funny to watch. There was much visible gnashing of teeth, though we mostly kept the wailing on the inside.

Still, the waltz overall managed, amidst great struggle, to somehow turn out quite nicely. Against all odds, the repeat was rather lovely.

By the time we got to little jumps, my brain was beginning to light up, and the major mistake I kept making was adding extra jumps—in one combination, I kept adding extra changements when the prescribed step was a simple sussous balance. WTF.

I actually yelled at myself about this out loud at one point. Specifically, I said, “Why am I punishing myself?!” as I failed, yet again, to prevent myself from putting in extra changements. Jeez. On the other hand, they were quite decent jumps, so there’s that.

Moreover, my petit assemblé has stopped being a disaster area (my legs actually assemble in the air like they’re supposed to, you guys!), and I finally seem to have programmed that weird coupé-coupé weight shift into my brain somewhere along the way. We finished with jeté-temps levée-coupé coupé-brush jeté, and it was just … there. Like magic.

Huh.

Anyway, today’s Theater Week Prep Day, during which I will Make All The Food and Clean All The Catbox and Wash All The Dishes and Finish The Stray Laundries and basically prepare for the fact that for the next six days I am unlikely to accomplish anything other than dancing.

The primary goal, really, is to make enough food in advance that I won’t have to really cook until a week from today: instead, I’ll just be able to throw things in to reheat as needed. Obviously, things like scooping the catbox that can be done quickly will still happen. Just not a lot of cooking, because I am unlikely to feel like cooking, but extremely likely to feel like eating, when I get home after rehearsals.

So that’s it for now. My legs feel like blocks of lead, and I plan to soak them in epsom salt solution for as long as my conscience permits later on. If the cat ever deigns to return the use of my left arm to me, anyway.

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Halp, I’m trapped. Please send snacks.

About asher

Me in a nutshell: Standard uptight ballet boy. Trapeze junkie. Half-baked choreographer. Budding researcher. Transit cyclist. Terrible homemaker. Getting along pretty well with bipolar disorder. Fabulous. Married to a very patient man. Bachelor of Science in Psychology (2015). Proto-foodie, but lazy about it. Cat owner ... or, should I say, cat own-ee? ... dog lover. Equestrian.

Posted on 2018/03/11, in #dancerlife, balllet, class notes, it is a silly place, life, WTF and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 16 Comments.

  1. Oy. I had a bit of this today; by the finish I couldn’t stop doing too much stuff and getting all out of shape. Apparently you need more nerves to fire to inhibit movement than you do to initiate it…

    • that said, “you have to feel your balancé through the back….YES! exactly that!”

    • Yes–it’s an interesting paradox!

      Once, when I was 10, a horse I was riding spooked. I bailed because I thought he was going down (he didn’t) but managed to lose my grip on the reins. He bolted, as you do if you’re a flight animal, and even though I’d been told since I was 3 years old never to chase a horse and had no intention of chasing him, my legs took off of their own accord and it took me a good 10 meters to stop them 😛 It felt so very, very bizarre.

      BG always says, “We don’t get paid by the step!” …But that doesn’t seem to stop me either!

  2. Awww, thanks! 😀 I find jumping spiders especially relatable during grand allegro since I saw one jump in slow motion. I was expecting it to be graceful, like a cat, but they look like a tiny rag doll during the flight phase. xD Comes from not having any extensor muscles in all those legs, I guess.
    Here’s the adorable slo-mo video: https://youtu.be/FhpL5h8sEHo?t=1m7s

  3. And like so many cute things (for example cats), of course they are also scary, efficient, ruthless predators. 😂 Especially spider-hunting species like Portia. But they look SO CUTE even when murdering things. °oo°

    I’ve had an extrem close-up shot of a P. regius’ anterior eyes as background on almost all my devices for years now, and the eyes do look blue!

    • Hahahaha, yesssss!!! ^-^ I try to remember that every time I begin to resent the fact that I’m basically more cute than imposing XD

      P. regius are great-looking spiders!

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