Weekend Round-Up, I Guess?

Totally failed to write about my own show, as you do. 😆

It went well—not perfect, but well enough that the audience thought it was. I got a nice word from our director, BG: “Your musicality was perfect.” As a dancer, that’s not a word you hear often.

Also quite a few nice words from folks in the audience—friends and perfect strangers both. E’s husband told me: “You stole the show—I mean that as a compliment!” That was a lovely thing to hear, but I think the best thing was K’s friends, who described my dancing to her as “powerful,” among other lovely words I wish I remembered right now.

K, meanwhile—my friend-turned-ballet partner who made me take myself seriously as a dancer some while back by telling me that I reminded her of Nureyev— described my attitude turn as beautiful, floating, and apparently effortless, with the free leg raised to 90 degrees.

I was glad to hear that, because in both the tech run and the full dress run I didn’t account for how remarkably grippy this particular batch of Marley was and wound up with 3/4s of an attitude turn and the world’s tiniest promenade 😅 During the actual show, it felt great, but that’s not always the most accurate barometer!

In the end, I think everyone was pretty happy with things.

There’s an immense peace that comes over me when I’m on stage. It’s like being immersed entirely in the stream of the present. Time is at once infinite and fleeting. Choreography appears like a divine gift. I don’t have to think about it: it’s just there.

“Did someone order a choreography?!”

There was a weird moment right at the beginning when I realized, with surprise, not only could I actually see part of the audience quite clearly[1], but was sharing a moment of eye contact with a woman out in the seats. That was really, really cool—also a crystal-clear visual memory that I’ll carry forever.

  1. In many theaters, the lighting renders the audience effectively invisible. You might catch the glare off an eyeglass lens, but that’s about it.

There’s something special about realizing that, hey, there are actual people out there, and they’re connected with what you’re doing, and it means something to them. For some performers, that’s kind of a nightmare, but I loved it—especially for this piece, which was full of emotion and human connections (both literal and metaphorical).

Anyway, we followed our terpsichorean triumph with one heck of a party, then hauled our heineys outta bed for class (my calf was iffy, so I opted not to jump—Memorial is a beautiful house, but the floor is pretty hard, and we did a bunch of jumps in our warm-up class before the show). Followed that with an hour of contact improv and 3 hour rehearsal: #dancerlife never stops 😛

This morning I opted to stay home and rest the legs a little, even though I’m adding Monday AM to the rotation. Back to class as usual tonight.

Possibly the best news: BG asked us at our party how we’d feel about performing more often. He has plans in the works. Obviously, I’m so there.

In the meanwhile, though, the next blip on my radar is another gala thing, this time with an excerpt from the Culture of Poverty, on April 30th.

Four years ago, when I stepped back into the studio, I never would have imagined living this life.

Nor would I have imagined becoming Sir Twinkshirt of the Footroller.

Honestly, if you’d described it to me, with all its chaos and exceedingly complicated scheduling, I would have, like, fainted (though it was wouldn’t have changed much, if anything).

In the end, though, this is what happens when we stumble into a driving passion: it, like, you know, drives.

And now, back to our regularly-scheduled laundry day.

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 2018/03/19, in #dancerlife, performances and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Fun to read your stories that are so relatable, from one dancer to another!
    ~Lillian
    http://www.theoccupiedoptimist.com

    • Thank you! I think we must all know that weird flow state that comes with performing, especially 🙂 The ephemeral nature of dance as art is something I’ve really come to love.

  2. so good.

    the time thing is very strange.

    • Thanks! And yeah, the time thing really is. I never now how to describe it.

      It’s interesting what I remember most clearly about this show: that moment with the lady in the audience; brushing the back of my hand across Kathy’s bun during a partnering thing (she didn’t notice!), then the way she lightly squeezed my hand when I let her go; C dropping into a plié instead of piquéing into my arms, and thus myself adjusting accordingly; the feeling of my last solo phrase; and this moment at the end when I tombéd into a dip in the floor (how did i not notice all these dips and ridges last year?!) and wound up having to adjust on the way back up from the associated swan dive; the sensation of the lights going down on us. The rest is there, but it’s all flow and feeling. There was definitely a fleeting moment of a feeling I could describe as, “I’m not ready for this to be over,” but I’m not sure exactly when it surfaced. So odd!

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