Nurse betty’s bar

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

T-Mobile

On Lower East-Side. Now with very drunk friends, Alyssa, John, Alison after gallery-ing all night in SoHo then Lower East-Side.

At bowery wine bar

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

T-Mobile

For friend alyssa’s election / b-day party. Need to be around alcohol and friends just in case…

I was sitting in front of my air conditioner engrossed in an essay by Edwin Denby called “Dancers, Buildings, and People in the Streets” — I know, brilliant Saturday night — when my cell phone did the little chirp it does when I have a text message. I wondered who could be calling at midnight. Thinking it may be an emergency I jumped up and ran to my dresser to see it was my friend, Parker Sanchez, telling me she was just crowned Mrs. New Jersey!!! I’m so excited! I’ve never known a real beauty queen before! Go Parker! I think she’s now going to go on to Mrs. America or Mrs. USA. Yay

Last night’s La Bayadere was ABT’s best night at the Met yet. They had the largest, most enthusiastic audience, many of whom seemed to be Marcelo fans! He got lots of ‘bravos’ and huge applause throughout, and he sensed early on the crowd was really with him so he kind of took it over the top with the enormous jetes and those interesting running-in-the-air jumps, whatever they’re called. I thought he may throw his back out after he landed a tour jete on one knee and dramatically arched back, his fingers gracing the ground behind him. And when he lands a jete it’s almost earth-shattering because of his size. But of course those huge leaps fit in with the role too since his character here is a warrior. It’s funny; it was like he was on a mission to really deliver – -it seemed his dancing was even fuller-bodied and more theatrical than usual. He’s always my favorite no matter

Dancers are definitely very sensitive to how the crowd is reacting to what they’re doing — or at least Marcelo and Angel are, which is probably why I like them so. You can read their feelings all over their faces. Or at least you can if you kind of “know” them from seeing them so many times.

And Veronika Part really owns this role. Her expressive wrists, those luscious developes of which she is the queen (lift of the leg at the knee, then slowly unfolding to a full extension), and her gorgeously almost tragically poetic arabesques (back leg lifted). Oh, by the way, Bayadere is set in ancient India, and tells the story of Solor the warrior who falls in love with a temple dancer, Nikiya, but is betrothed to the princess Gamzatti. Veronika (as Nikiya) got loads of applause during her solo curtain calls at the very end of course. This is how the ballet should always be; the crowd going nuts like that.

But Marcelo and Veronika weren’t just great on their own; they were a perfect partnership as well, which to me is really everything, more important than the solo dancing. I really believed they were hopelessly, tragically in love. She was so forlorn, I wanted to cry for her when it was clear she wasn’t going to get her love. And Marcelo as always was the perfect actor, making perfectly clear how truly torn he was between his beloved and his betrothed, especially after the latter’s sexy, seductive whipping fouette sequence, and then how distraught he was on realizing he was in love with Nikiya but had to marry the princess.

Of course this ballet is so beautiful, many come regardless of who’s dancing, just for the story and the poetry of the choreography, particularly the breathtaking Kingdom of the Shades scene (which at first I have to admit I wasn’t so fond of because it’s so slow and there are few men ) but has really grown on me with its beauty. This is the part of the ballet where Solor sleeps and dreams of his Nikiya, whose image floods his subconsious by suddenly duplicating itself many many times over, as illustrated by a series of ballerinas all in white, emanating from the mountainside traveling forward in a pattern of lovely arabesques, then taking center stage and bourreeing in place, all in perfect sync, in perfect harmony, reminiscient of a spirit-world, and foreshadowing that this is the only place Solor and Nikiya will be together.

(all photos by Gene Schiavone, courtesy of ABT)

Finally, Michele Wiles was PERFECT as the princess Gamzatti. Throughout the first two acts she was icy cold bitchiness, which to me, she’s thus far excelled at. Critic Joan Acocella once referred to her as a sunny cheerleader type, but I’ve never seen that in her. I see her more as the spoiled rich girl who will have her way at all costs. She was pure golden-dressed evil when she puts the snake in Nikiya’s bouquet, basically casting a spell on her. Yet, when it’s clear Marcelo’s Solor is in love with Nikiya and is only going through the marriage because he must, you really start to feel sorry for Michele’s princess. She tries hard to maintain her power, but she can’t. She found the vulnerability in the character and made her sympathetic and that’s what makes this a true tragedy — for all.

It was also just such a great night because there were so many people there. I finally got to meet James Wolcott from Vanity Fair, and his wife Laura Jacobs who writes about dance for the New Criterion (and whose book I keep going on about — she writes so beautifully about dance)! I suspected they’d be there because they love Veronika so. I’m so shy, I always feel like such an oaf meeting famous people But they’re really nice and it was so cool to finally meet them!

Philip was there too and we hung out during first intermission, with friends and blog readers Susan and Philip’s opera buddy (whose name I keep forgetting…)

Great ballet, favorite dancers, very fun audience, meeting famous writers you admire, chatting with old friends — excellent night all around! I am happy.

Back to new york

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

Just in time to see my friends dea and taylor perform at alvin ailey studio. Great performance! It was a blend of jazz, theater, modern, and of course ballet.

Go mika!

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

In the orange dress near the center of the picture.

Mika does her hair

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

Don’t know if i could ever be a pro ballroom dancer w/ all the hours of preparation.

I don’t have a lot of time to write since I have a bizillion and a half things to do before Blackpool (which I leave for in two days!), so I’ll be brief. I thought DWTS’s season finale was the best ever. The remaining three are all really good, far better than prior contestants, and they have their own cute strengths.

Cristian has definitely improved the most, of these three and of any contestant ever, I think. He’s 1000% improved from the way he was dancing at the beginning of the season and that is what this show is about — a normal person / non-dancer learning to dance well. At the beginning of the show I remember his limbs looking like spaghetti, totally out of control, no shaping or definition to his upper body, and he was dancing Latin too far up on his toes, had no grounding, and it just didn’t look right. Now all that is nearly gone. His hips are now near perfect, he’s much more weighted, his arms are not flailing out of control, and he has much better definition throughout his body. He’s still not a pro male dancer, but he’s just about the closest thing to a pro without being one, especially for someone who started out so poorly. I’m just so proud of him I feel like HE won the opening number, not Kristi. And I don’t care if his freestyle lifts were not as fancy as Jason’s; not only did he do extremely well with them, but they were lovely and complemented the choreography and music. Why does he need to raise her above his head just for the sake of showing he can? An overhead lift wouldn’t have added anything to their routine; it would have been out of place in fact since the music was kind of fluid and fast. I just can’t stop smiling whenever Cristian is on the floor.

And, regarding his injury: I know, people say it’s wrong that he’s still dancing, but, honestly, right or wrong, I know many professionals who dance with an injury so they can finish out the season, then have their surgery. And many pro ballroom dancers will dance with an injury if they’ve made a commitment to their student, to do a competition or a student showcase. I’m not saying it’s right, but I feel like in a way his problem is pretty typical and shows what a lot of dancers go through and the risks they take.

I love Jason, but as much as I love his personality both on the dance floor and in the practice segments, he doesn’t do equally well at Standard and Latin the way Cristian does. That’s another huge plus for Cristian — it’s very hard to do well at both. I really liked his freestyle though. Edyta choreographed something perfect for him. Like Carrie Ann said, who knew Jason could be funky like that! It was like a downplayed hip hop and it looked perfect on him.

And, hehehe, he is a ballerino! Those breathtaking overhead lifts were something right out of Petipa! I love it! Soon he’ll be as obsessed with ballet as he is with ballroom! But I think, not being a man and never lifting someone over my head like that, the lifts he did were actually harder than ballet lifts where the danseur carries the ballerina across the floor, because Edyta had him turning in place repeatedly at the same time. That’s damn hard because not only are you lifting, you’re making yourself sickly dizzy by spinning. I know as the girl getting myself into a lift, maintaining a position in the air and then getting spun around like that, you just want to throw up when you land; they’re incredibly hard. So, major kudos to him.

I love Kristi and she was once my idol. I don’t know, I feel like I’m not as impressed with her as I was at the beginning of the show. She’s nearly flawless, but she is not without flaws, and now for some reason I just want to compare her to someone like Karina Smirnoff, and she comes up lacking. It’s well-known by now that she knows how to dance and I think I’m probably just being too hard on her because I want perfection. Her legs don’t come together perfectly in Cha Cha, her lines in her upside-down split lifts were not as perfect as Juliana’s, and she doesn’t have the polish and the perfect technique the pro dancers do and that seems to be all I can focus on. Maybe it’s that Mark is such a show-off and he’s outdancing her. When I heard him talking about trying to do a back flip during practice sessions, I thought, WHY, WHY do you have to go and do something like that! But when I saw it, it wasn’t so bad since he lifted her so many times and made her look great and she had a lot of tricks herself. So, it was even, not like it was all about him. She is the best; it’s just that I relate more to the other two because they’re normal people like me who learned throughout the show to dance ballroom wonderfully…

On a very related note, the Dance Times Square showcase last night was so much fun, I can’t even begin to describe. It’s like seeing a DWTS show live, except with far more student performers of all ages, of all shapes and sizes, of all levels of dance ability, all doing their best. And those are combined with all pro showcases of course. They’re the best studio for putting on these kinds of things for their students.

It was really packed this time. In addition to all the regulars, and the students’ friends and family, there were many many more — either who came to see Pasha & Anya or who were from media outlets. I know there were people from Entertainment Tonight there and Tony mentioned a couple of other news shows too that I can’t remember. There were also talent agents there.

And Sabra and Cameron from So You Think You Can Dance were there! They sat right behind me and Sabra laughed hysterically at Tony and Melanie’s opening jokes and then SCREAMED with applause throughout. She cracked me up. If you’re ever performing you WANT her in the audience!

I sat in the press section toward the front, next to one of the ET crew and he was remarking throughout how amazing he thought this was. And his remarks were genuine. I truly don’t think he’d ever seen anything like it before. You’re sitting down there, the press people are all serious and make you a bundle of nerves even if you are just writing about the event yourself and not performing in it, and then the people up in the balcony (the regulars and friends and family) are up there screaming, wildly cheering on the dancers, calling out their names, making the dancers even laugh at times. And the press people are aghast. “I can’t believe this! This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!” ET guy said.

When a couple of senior amateurs danced a cute little Mambo (this is rare; it’s almost always one pro dancing with one amateur), and they were cute, but obviously didn’t do any spectuacular tricks or quick-footed dancing, the audience all started clapping along with the music and cheering for them. The audience made their own fun time, in other words, by really getting into it.

And Elaine. Whenever she was onstage, Elaine stole the show. I know her and can tell she was nervous at the beginning of her first routine. She stumbled a bit and nearly tripped Jacob, her partner, and someone shouted from the balcony, “Dont hurt him, Elaine!” She laughed and it really calmed her nerves. Completely cracked ET guy up. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said for the umpteenth time. Elaine’s so cute and she’s a really good dancer for not learning until well into adulthood and then having the limitations of age. Jacob did several lifts with her — ET guy went nuts — and in one routine she did a series of chaine turns (two-footed traveling turns done in a line) practically all the way across the floor. “Unbelievable, simply unbelievable!” ET guy shouted.

(Elaine is on the right, Claire on the left — I’ll talk about her in a minute. This is on our Dance Times Square outing to see the SYTYCD tour).

I don’t have time to go into all of the routines, but my favorites were Susan Washburn (a longtime student there) and Michael Choi’s hilarious “Sex Bomb” (all the routines by the way were medleys — the music consisted of one song but with different musical artists’ interpretations — one slower and more dramatic, one sped up, one hip-hop-y, etc. So, there would be several dance styles within one song — Cha Cha, disco-y Hustle, a slower Rumba or Bolero, etc. — It was really a clever idea for a showcase — Melanie’s of course. At the beginning, Melanie addressed the crowd, explained the theme of the evening, then said, “I know, this is a rather ingenious idea right? I mean, it’s usually me who comes up with the themes of the showcases, but this time I have to say it was … oh, hehe, it was me again,” she said with a faux blush. The crowd was hysterical). Anyway, of the student showcases, I also loved everything David Johnson was in — he’s an older man, and his schtick was to be so taken with his young female pro that he kind of followed her around aimlessly, trying hard to imitate her and be the perfect partner. It was cute and he acted it all so well, the audience was just screaming in applause. I liked a sultry sexy tango cha cha, etc. by Krysta Gonzales, who you can tell has dance background, and Nazarie Salcedo’s infectious smile makes everything she does a delight to watch. I liked so many though, I just don’t have time to go into them!

Claire Gaines (in the picture above) also performed with her teacher, Jacob Jason. She was also in “Gotta Dance” (she is the one with the mike in the second picture here) and she brought her team of NetSationals with her! They did a little swing / hip hop and the crowd ROARED!

Of course Pasha & Anya performed! They did three routines, which made me very happy — I thought they’d only do one at the very end, but they danced throughout. Their first was a gorgeous medley danced to “Indissoluble.” I don’t even know how to describe it. It was by turns sexy, romantic, bone-chillingly intense, passionate, heated. The dance style was based on Rumba and had some Samba (my favorite part was a series of Samba rolls, but with their faces cheek to cheek, so it looked far more sultry and passionate than normal Samba rolls) and even some Tango, but it really was not ballroom. It was more contemporary. It was just beautiful Dance. It was like something I’ve never seen from them and I was really proud of them for pushing themselves and trying something new, outside regular ballroom. It really could have been in a big dance gala, like when you see those tango companies perform in the 21st Century Stars of Ballet galas or something. It made me think ballroom can and will take new directions and become a real performance art.

They also did a gorgeous Paso that took my breath away. Pasha and his cape And they ended with a beautiful Rumba in which Anya wore her black Blackpool dress from the year they placed second in Rising Star. My favorite dress of hers, EVER… (middle and right pictures here)

Maybe it was just the lights, but she seems to be wearing her hair lighter now, which I like. Now, it’s a light brown. I think dirty blonde is her natural color (and my favorite for her); she’d dyed it for SYTYCD. She also seems to have got a light, wavy perm. Pasha looks the same

It’s always beyond wonderful to see them again, but I always get so sad, and I left the theater feeling like I was going to cry. I don’t know why.

Oh one more thing, Karen and Matt Hauer, another pro couple who compete in the American Rhythm section at national competitions, performed a few numbers. Karen completely blew me away. She has grown by leaps and bounds in the past couple of years since I first saw her dance. Her movement is so fierce, so fluid, so amazing. Her upper body isolations, which you can really see in the slower dances, the way she rounds her shoulders, contracts her rib cage, you can trace the muscular ripple from her shoulders all the way down to her hips centimeter by centimeter. And she’s dancing with such passion, such intensity. She honestly reminded me of Karina Smirnoff. I was just enthralled.

Here are a couple of pictures I took of them at earlier competitions:

Okay, I have talked too long. I’m never going to be ready for Blackpool!

Crazy day yesterday. I waited in line for nearly two hours to buy my Tribeca Film Festival tickets. The festival takes place April 23-May 4. Tickets went on sale to American Express cardholders yesterday, they’ll go on sale to downtown residents on April 18, and on the 19th to the general public.

I always love this festival. My dad is a big film buff, a would-be filmmaker really, and he’s gone to practically every film festival in existence. But I feel like this one is kind of my own; I feel a special fondness for it since DeNiro established it in the aftermath of 9/11 in order to re-charge the lower Manhattan economy. I worked two blocks from the World Trade Center and frequently hung out in Tribeca, and it took me a long time to get over 9/11. I remember sobbing while waiting in line to see a festival movie the first year, standing on an upper floor of the Regal Battery Park Cinemas, standing by a window overlooking Ground Zero.

Anyway, this year there are two movies related to dance — I mean, there are lots of great-looking movies, but two involve dance: “Whatever Lola Wants“, a narrative about a struggling NYC dancer who follows an intriguing man to Morocco, where she becomes enthralled with belly dance; and “Gotta Dance“, a documentary about the first ever cheerleading team for seniors.

Funny, but while I was waiting in line at the festival’s new Village box office for tickets, I ran into an old friend, Claire, from my former studio, Dance Times Square. She and her friend were waiting in line to buy tickets for all of their friends and family to “Gotta Dance,” which it turns out, they are in! She also told me she’s performing in the upcoming Dance Times Square student showcase, on May 19th, and that Pasha Kovalev and Anya Garnis are scheduled to dance a number or two as well It’s so wonderful of them to keep performing in these student showcases and local things, since now, they obviously don’t have to.

Another movie that I’m psyched about is “Elite Squad” by a Brazilian documentarian I really like, Jose Padilha. I’d really liked his “Bus 174” about a young man from the Rio ghetto who held a busload of passengers hostage. Like the best true crime literary journalists, his films have a way of finding the larger significance of a story, bringing out the human element without resort to sensationalism, and making you feel for all people involved. This one’s about police force corruption in Rio. Padilha co-wrote with Braulio Mantovani, writer of the famous “City of God.”

Afterward, I walked around the corner to the Strand bookstore, and bought these three books. I’d gone for the new Pulitzer prize winner (the first for a Dominican author), The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz, which I can’t wait to read, but ended up not wanting to spend so much money, and these, being older, were on sale. I’ve been scouring NYC bookstores for anything written by Pauline Kael for some time now, and ridiculously haven’t been able to find a thing. She’s only just about the most famous art critic ever, right?! It’s been only seven years since her death and now bookstores are no longer bothering to stock her; horrible. Anyway, at least the Strand came through. And, I also got this book by Dominick Dunne, since apparently I’m into true crime lately, and Norman Mailer’s advice to writers. I guess I’ll wait for a 30% discount Borders coupon for the Diaz.

Last, I was so famished and with all that standing in line for the movie tickets, I knew I couldn’t make it home without passing out, so I ended up at “Buono Sera” on University Place. They don’t seem to have their own website, but here’s the New York review. The maitre d looks and talks just like Vincent D’Onofrio, which was fun, and they had a great small band playing in the back, near a little screen showing filmed aerial views of various parts of Italy — very interesting idea for a restaurant, showing video clips of the homeland like that. Service was excellent; I don’t think I ever had a water glass that wasn’t filled to the brim, and when I noticed the films projected on the back wall and turned around to watch, ‘Vincent’ apparently thought I was looking for the waiter and came over, apologized, and told me he’d take my order instead! I only wish their food had been as good as their entertainment and service. Actually, I shouldn’t say that. The wine was excellent as was the panna cotta dessert. The only thing I wasn’t in love with was my main dish — the gnocchi. It was fine and everything I’d expect from a plate of potato dumplings covered with marinara sauce, but there nothing extra special about it; it was just there, unlike the panna cotta. Also the foccaccia was hard on the edges and I wasn’t in love with the dipping sauce — just a basic marinara.

Anyway, okay enough blabbering. I have to go read my books.

(photo by Andrew Eccles)

Today, Ariel and I went to the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem, which is currently celebrating its 200th anniversary. The church was founded in 1808 when it separated from a larger demonimation because of racial segregation.

But today Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater was also celebrating its 50th anniversary, today’s event part of its faith-based honoring of the spiritual heritage of Mr. Ailey’s life work, which took place in churches throughout New York and the country, including Rogers, Texas, Alvin Ailey’s own hometown. We were very lucky: at our event, Judith Jamison, artistic director and former dancer extraordinare with Ailey attended and gave a brief speech about Mr. Ailey’s roots in the church. I also spotted a couple of Ailey dancers in the audience, including the illustrious Renee Robinson.

It was a blast! Former Ailey dancer Nasha Thomas-Schmitt, who heads the Ailey Camp outreach program, giving dance lessons to inner-city youth, trained several children in the congregation to dance the opening of “Revelations” — the “I’ve Been ‘Buked” section (pictured above; also see video here, beginning section). So as the choir sang that song, the children walked down the aisles, dressed in the same styled costumes as the original Ailey dancers, up to the pulpit, where they danced — doing everything perfectly! I almost started giggling when the tallest boy in the center reached upward with his arms, leading his “flock.” It was adorable, and he was right on!

The choir also sang “Rock A My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham,” my favorite song in “Revelations” (see the last section of that above video). There was no music here; rather the different choral sections provided the harmony, and the melody. They sang repeated choruses, in so many different chords; it was amazing.

The regular minister, Dr. Rev. Calvin O. Butts, allowed one of the junior ministers, Rev. Eboni Marshall, to give the sermon, since she had previously danced with Alvin Ailey. Her sermon was themed “The Show Must Go On,” the message being mainly that no matter how bad things get for you, your show’s not over and God is there for you. She talked about what being a member of Alvin Ailey had meant to her. She said it “taught me, first of all, to stand up straight.” The audience cheered. She said Ailey also gave her a solid work ethic, self-respect and discipline, and taught her that no matter what happened, no matter how much her body ached, no matter how many last-minute set problems the troupe encountered, etc., the show simply had to go on, no excuses.

This was my first time at an African-American church, and I just have to say, it was so much more lively (to make a huge understatement!) than any white church I’ve been to (at least in Arizona). Rev. Marshall spoke theatrically and emphatically, and the audience was very participatory, shouting “Oh Yes!”’s, and “Um-HUMS!”, and “Oh, He’s coming!”s throughout, fists pounding the air. It was great! Back home, people sit there in near complete silence and the minister talks in the droning pitch of a shrink.

Afterward, Ariel and I went around the corner to a small but down-home-looking restaurant for southern food, called Miss Maud’s SpoonBread. We were going to go to the famous Sylvia’s, but then I realized I was hungry and wasn’t in a mood to wait in a huge line with other “Harlem tourists” and pay a bundle, and small local joints are often better anyway. I’m glad we decided on Miss Maud’s because they had a nice spacious booth, the likes of which I haven’t seen in Manhattan, and it was just a cozy little place. I had my first brunch of fried chicken and waffles, which was delicious, albeit enormous. They had biscuits, just like the biscuits ‘n gravy I’ve had in North Carolina visiting Mom, but these were tiny and shaped like hearts. I thought they were cute, so I had to snap a picture… Anyway, it was a most excellent day!

(photo by Julieta Cervantes)

Friday night I was finally able to see the Brazilian dance troupe, Grupo Corpo, live. I’ve seen videos, and have heard so much about them, through Brazilian friends. So, I’ve been wanting to see them for a while, and I was very happy when they finally came to Brooklyn.

Founded in 1975, the troupe, from the Brazilian province of Belo Horizonte, combines ballet with different forms of Brazilian dance and cultural influences — African, Latin, Native American, Portuguese etc. I saw two pieces, “Benguele” and “Breu”, both choreographed by resident choreographer and co-founder, Rodrigo Pederneiras.

(image taken from here, photographer unknown)

I liked the first, “Benguele” best. I saw it as a celebration of the cultural stew that is contemporary Brazil, melding a variety of movement — West African, Samba, capoeira, Portuguese folk, and even jazz — and a variety of sound, from folksy acoustic guitars to orchestral strings, to, my favorite, pulsating African drums. The running theme was a person trying to make his or her way across the stage, or a people trying to find their home, perhaps the result of a diaspora. The dancers moved back and forth and back and forth across stage with a variety of movement. The most common “walk” was the body bent way over at the waist, the arms hanging down, the hands almost touching the floor, almost dragging along it. But the lower body moved to the beats, which gave the walk a definite style and rhythm. So, although the person looked tired and world-weary, bent over from old age or a life of intense, perhaps slave labor, he continued on, like nothing was going to stop him from finding his destination.

At other times, people would move across the stage sideways, knees deeply bent, in a deep lunge. They were very animalistic, looking at times like crabs, at times like insects, and at times like jaguars or panthers. Sometimes, dancers would suddenly dart up from these crouched positions, legs kicking out, like a martial artist fighting his way out of a bad situation but with style and grace, intellect, and artistry — the super-charged, acrobatic capoeira. Some would nearly fly across stage in a quick jazzy skip. Some would slither in loose, pelvic rotating forward samba walks, or side-stepping samba voltas.

There’s nothing more fun, by the way, than recognizing a move! I see now why ballet is so popular amongst people with ballet training. It’s really interesting to see others do a step you’ve struggled with yourself, or to see a choreographer’s unique take on that step.

At times two people would dance together, trotting across the stage happily in a waltzy, swingy pas de deux, illustrating the position social dance has held in Brazilian culture.

At the end, all movement seemed to meld together, like it was blended into one continuous rhythm. The backdrop became a series of vertical stripes, each color represented, and each dancer wore different-colored sashes criss-crossed over his or her torso, a rainbow medley.

The second piece, “Breu,” I liked less than “Benguele,” but it was still good. In this piece, all dancers were dressed in zebra-striped or almost blindingly checkered costumes that at times looked imprisoning like a straight-jacket, at times intriguingly geometric like a compelling architectural model. This piece was much more obviously violent than the first, as dancers thrashed against each other, threw themselves down to the ground, kicked and pushed each other.

(photo by Cervantes)

At other times, they would refrain from going at each other, to lie down or stand in a row, making various visual shapes with their geometric-patterned bodies. But the movements in line or on the ground would still be fraught with intense emotion. And soon the thrashing pas de deux would return. The Playbill notes that this work was intended to “evoke the dark times in which we live” and to show “the violence and brutality encountered in daily life.” I definitely saw those, but didn’t think it really progressed; it seemed too one note to me.

Another thing I noticed is that most of the members seemed to be white, though there were a couple of black male dancers. I’ve never been to Brazil (yet!) but thought it was a very mixed race society. My friend, Alyssa, and I had noticed the same of Mimulus, when we saw them at Jacob’s Pillow over the summer. Not a criticism or anything; just something I found curious. It’s the same here, of course, with most of the large professional dance companies, especially the ones specializing in ballet. I just wonder if the underlying reasons for that are the same.

Anyway, I really enjoyed Grupo Corpo, especially the wonderful Benguele, and will definitely look forward to more by them!

A little over a year ago I attended a panel discussion hosted by Media Bistro on authors who got book deals from their blogs. After being introduced to the panelists, I looked up all the blogs on the internet, and was particularly taken with this one, by author Robert Rummel-Hudson. It was about his daughter, Schuyler, who was born with an extremely rare neurological condition known as bilateral perisylvian polymicrogyria, which makes it impossible to move certain facial muscles, resulting in the inability to speak. The blog, and the resulting memoir, follow Schuyler’s journey learning to speak through other means, and the lessons she teaches Rummel-Hudson along the way about being a father.

Well, the memoir just came out and last Wednesday Media Bistro threw a book party for Mr. Rummel-Hudson. Ariel and I went and I finally got to meet him. I’d commented on his blog a few times, so he knew of my blog, and has been reading it a bit as well. Well, he told me on Wednesday that Schuyler really enjoys all the pictures I post of dancers, and she’ll often go dancing about the house, imitating their poses. As for right now, she wants to become a dancer herself I swear, this almost made me cry! I bought his book, which he signed, saying, “thank you for giving Schuyler some dancer dreams.” Aw!!!

Anyway, here are a couple of pictures. I didn’t want to scare anyone with a flash so they’re grainy.

This is Rob in the background (in the brown suit) signing books and chatting with people, and Ariel is in the foreground boozing it up. Haha, just kidding, she only had one glass of red wine and only because of me :S

And here’s Ariel again at a restaurant we went to afterward, called Banc Cafe, which we both loved. Her mom sweetly treated us, albeit from afar. Because Ariel had recently been sick, and, since Ariel now lives in NY far from her family in Alabama, her mother felt badly not being able to comfort her with some good home-cooked meals, so she directed Ariel to take herself and me out for a great dinner. And great it was! This is obviously the dessert portion — Ariel is having apple pie and I an enormous chocolate mountain thingy and chocolate martini. Thank you Mrs. Davis!!! Lovely lovely night

Sorry I’m so late in getting this up! Last Monday evening, David Benaym, Editor-In-Chief and co-founder (with Danny Tidwell) of Movmnt Magazine hosted a dance blogger party at his office’s downtown NY headquarters. From left to right in picture above: Tony Schultz from The Winger, Doug Fox from Great Dance, Dea Soares Berrios, a friend of mine and The Winger’s, from Brazil who writes the personal blog Dea Nos Eua about her experiences moving to the U.S., her husband Al Berrios behind her, Taylor Gordon from The Winger and Off Center, me, Evan from Dancing Perfectly Free, David Benaym, and Brian Gibbs from The Winger.

It was a great time! David (pronounced Du-VEED) is extremely animated, and being from France, has a serious accent. People were having all kinds of funny mis-understandings We had some good discussions about dance and the internet, which companies are the best at using it (NYCBallet and Alvin Ailey, both of whom have YouTube channels), which are the worst (unfortunately my favorite American Ballet Theater was the sad winner in that category), which issues people are afraid to discuss in the blogosphere (dancer eating disorders being a big one), how most bloggers’ personas are so different from the writer’s actual personality (as well as pictures; we all agreed Schultz’s Winger headshot looks nothing like him!), and how we keep in touch with each other on a daily basis through our blogs though we’ve rarely met in person: at one point, David remarked how worried he was about Jolene. We asked why and he said, “Did you see? She said she would not come because she was very very sick and would soon go to hospital.” “Nooooo,” we all — and I mean all — sang out in unison, “that’s Ariel!” (who’s better now, by the way). Then he said, “Ohhh, well then who is Jolene?” Again, we all said in unison, “she’s the one who lives in San Francisco…” — I find it sweet that we all keep up with each other so well via our blogs; we really are a tight community. And finally, we talked about whether bloggers (particularly the snarky ones ) should be anonymous (we’re all dying, for example, to know who Danciti is, though some thought anonymity was fine). I know I’m forgetting tons of stuff; we decided through Al’s suggestion, that the next time, we would take minutes or record.

At the end, David gave us little gift bags containing issues of the latest magazine as well as a few back copies, a pair of Movmnt socks (hehe, like they give you on VirginAtlantic for overseas flights), and a copy of his and Danny’s book, “Moving Still.” Since I helped to organize the event, I received a special copy, containing all of the featured dancers’ — including Tidwell’s — autographs Even though I don’t agree with David about everything (for example, he thought about 10 posts a week on The Winger was good, otherwise it’s too overwhelming; I think, seriously, the more posts per day the better — my ideal number would be a Gawker-sized 30+ per weekday, although I realize this is never going to happen without a salaried, full-time blogger staff; there needs to be a Nick Denton of dance…) but I have a great deal of admiration for someone who has such an entrepreneurial spirit, who’s such a risk-taker and doesn’t think twice about creating his own path. He not only started his own magazine and wrote two books — his own novel (only available in French) as well as “Moving Still,” but he founded his own publishing companies to produce all of these things.

If you’re near a Barnes & Noble that carries it (one thing I learned from David is that you have to pay a bookstore shitloads of money just to carry your mag, even though they get a big profit from sales anyway?..), the latest issue is available. It includes an article by Taylor about dancer injuries, and two profiles from dancer Matt Murphy on composer Nico Muhly and “Center Stage 2” star Kenny Wormald, amongst other good things of course! Or you can visit their website.

Also, if you’re a dance blogger and near NYC and you want to be included on our email list, send me an email (found on my contact page). I don’t always organize these things but I seem to be the current “maintainer of email addresses.”

Thursday night I got together with several friends and we went out to a great restaurant in Soho / Nolita, FR.OG (standing for “French Origine”; starting from left of table is: Allison, Marion, me, Kathy, and Alyssa). Dishes combine the flavors and spices of North Africa with French culinary style and technique. Though it was a bit pricey, and not something I’d do but for a special occasion, I found the food excellent.

I had the duck leg pastilla, delicious diced duck meat combined with what tasted to me like Moroccan spices in a light pastry shell coated with honey and almonds, along with lightly-dressed baby arugula side salad. Only thing was, no way could I eat even half of it, and it didn’t heat up so well the next day — the pastry crust was soggy by then and I could no longer taste the delicious honey-ed bottom. Why do restaurants serve such blasted big portions!!! Marion, from Ireland, said this was the first thing she noticed when she arrived here — American food portions are off the scale… I tasted her cigare of chicken, by the way, though I’m not usually a fan of chicken. But it was really unexpectedly juicy and the skin was crunchy and flavorful — the best chicken I think I’ve had.

And they had an excellent cocktail list. Frozen hot chocolate martini, mmmmm.

Maybe too excellent a cocktail list… Of course we HAD to try everything! And the drinks were so delicious you couldn’t really tell they contained any alcohol, until you stood up…

By the end of the evening we were a bit tipsy… and we suddenly somehow found ourselves downstairs near the kitchen trying to meet the chef. This was partly because we’d so enjoyed the food and were interested in knowing how it was prepared and where the chef came from (Queens, as it turned out), but also because, admittedly, a few members of our party were drawn to the restaurant because of the chef’s very attractive profile on the website Poor man was more than a bit weirded out by all these women pawing at him and asking him questions galore. And I learned that a couple of my friends are apparently more cynical and untrusting even than I: because he seemed so stunned at all the attention, they suspected perhaps a line cook had been sent out to entertain us in lieu of the real chef. But I don’t think so — the guy in the middle above looks like chef Jarret Brody, right?… (If you aren’t taken to his pic on the link, click on “a place to eat”)

Anyway, fun night out with the ladies If you’re ever in SoHo / Nolita, there’s lovely food to be found here. And you can request to meet the chef and see if you get the same guy…

I didn’t get around to going to the real Carnival this year, so this weekend I went with a couple of friends, Kathy and Alyssa, down to the Lafayette Bar & Grill in Tribeca for a little end-of-Carnival Samba party. It was hosted by a Samba meet-up group I joined a while ago but whose meet-ups I never had the courage to attend, owing largely to an insane experience I had in Quenia Ribeiro’s Samba class at the Alvin Ailey extension.

Well, I am happy to say that this time, though I was nowhere near perfect, or even good, I did much better! Or at least I felt much better. The meet-up group’s founder, Marizete, who is from Brazil, began the evening with a little class. She first taught us the steps, which were so much more basic and easier than anything I’ve learned in ballroom Samba and certainly than Quenia’s class. Quenia’s class was more focused on Bahian Samba, or Samba Reggae, which seemed more African and even a little hop-hop infused than what I was used to with ballroom. But Marizete taught only the Rio style, whose steps are smaller, and, to me, more basic than Bahian style. And the emphasis is more on sexiness, attitude and just overall style than on detailed traveling movement patterns, difficult isolations, and changing rhythms. The basic is simply, crossing one foot in back of the other, sliding the other foot a little bit forward and then bringing the back foot up to meet the front with a little hop. And then added with that were some pelvic rolls while standing, pelvic rolls while bending knees and going all the way down to the floor, then pelvic rolls while turning slowly in a cirle, and, at the end she added some pretty arm movements.

Here she is showing us how to roll our hips. It was a lot of fun, and way way way the hell easier than the Bahia / Reggae style, for me. I just look like such a goof trying to do African dance, although I’d really like to be good at that some day. The only thing so ridiculously hard for me to master in Marizete’s class was doing so many things at once — I’m so uncoordinated! I was fine with the basic, fine with the pelvic / hips rolls, but once we started trying to turn in a circle doing the pelvic rolls, I just couldn’t seem to manage both at once. And once the arms were added, forget it. I was going in the wrong direction, bumping butts with poor Kathy, whacking the guy on my other side with my arm, moving my hips in the same direction I was turning in instead of opposite, which I think was the way it was supposed to be… I was a mess! Thankfully there were so many people on that crowded floor, I don’t think anyone really saw me making mistakes galore. Most of the people were not experienced (unlike those crazy Ailey students) so I didn’t feel like that much of an ass. And, I think with practice this is something I could actually do okay.

Here she is trying to teach us the arms.

After the class, we all sat down and had some drinks and dinner, and listened to a Bossa Nova / jazz band, which was lovely. Of course they performed some samba too, in honor of Carnival. And there was some general dancing. I watched Marizete dance with several guys and it was really interesting to see they way they partnered. They were connected and maintained the normal frame, like in regular partner dancing, but they each kind of did their own thing; it wasn’t formal ballroom at all. The guys would just kind of lead her in a certain direction and she would do the Carnival-samba basic with her regular cute bouncy hop, even though the guys weren’t doing the samba basic but just kind holding her and walking her around the floor. There was another woman there who was very good, who was doing the same thing only way faster. It was like watching a Carnival dancer going at her own pace, but maintaining connection with a guy who was just kind of going at a quarter her speed and then not even doing the same footwork. So it looked very asymmetrical, but it still somehow worked. I so want to dance like Marizete and the other woman I saw.

During the band’s breaks, Marizete played some tapes she’d brought of recorded live music at past Carnivals in Rio. Everyone got out on the dance floor and just bopped around to those. Even people who couldn’t really do samba, who’d missed the class or forgotten the basic got out there; we all just did our own thing. Even if you don’t know what you’re doing, the rhythm just gets you!

Then, at the end, a local band, “Manhattan Samba,” played, and they were fantastic! They were all percussion like a regular street band, and had a leader bearing a whistle around his neck blowing out directions. Marizete came out dressed in a Carnival costume and danced a few numbers.

Here’s one of the band. They were having a blast, as were we just listening to them. There is nothing more infectious than a Samba percussive band; nothing!

To Marizete’s left is one of the guys she was dancing with, whom I think she’s taught. I wish she would teach more formal lessons. She seems to create such a nice, fun, social, very informal atmosphere, which for me, is so much more conducive to learning than being around already-perfect dancers, like I found at Ailey. Although Ailey was more challenging and I’d like to go back to Quenia’s classes when I’m better, I need something more basic for now, until I have more confidence.

Anyway, very fun night. The only drawback was the wait-staff at Lafayette Bar & Grill. So nasty. First our waitress was very annoyed when we asked her for a bit more time deciding on our order. Later, when asked for more water, she basically reprimanded us, telling us she “can’t be walking around with the water pitcher.” We waited about twenty minutes until we were able to get the attention of a busboy. At one point another waitress crashed into me, then instead of apologizing harrumphed; apparently I was standing in her way trying to take a picture. About half an hour before the show was over, our waitress threw down our check saying gruffly, “show’s gonna be over soon.” When we looked at the bill, it was more than we’d expected. When I added it all up, I realized they’d already added a $12 “service charge.” This was in addition to the cover charge we paid to get in, so I assumed it was a mandatory tip. While I understand why they do that for large parties, we were only three. I think if they’re going to host special events there, they should train their wait-staff a bit differently…

Glogg at cafe lalo

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

Mmmm. Delicious on a cold winter day. This restaurant is always insanely packed, owing largely to the movie “You’ve Got Mail.” I’ve never much cared for their main courses or even their desserts (most of which I find too sickeningly rich). But their specialty is definitely their cocktails, and this is their latest — mulled hot wine with a big cinnamon stick scrumptiously spicing it up. Worth the noisy crowd … once in a while at least. Also worth it to see cute Ariel all giddy about finally being in the place, being new to NY and a lover of that film We’d tried to go over the summer, with the wonderful Mr. Terry Teachout, who very graciously met up with us to give us career advice, but the crowd was out the door and all over the sidewalk, so we went instead to his favorite place, the cleverly-titled Good Enough to Eat, around the corner.

I’ll just make this into a foodie post: I must take back what I said earlier about Magnolia Bakery’s somewhat flavorless frosting. I recently had another mini-cake (okay, two) and the frosting was divine. Must just have been opening day jitters.

Magnolia Bakery line around the corner! Hopefully it’s just because it’s opening day and it won’t always be like this. I talked a bit to the owner and he seems really nice. He apologized to me about a million times because they kept forgetting my coffee Right now it’s just a take-out place (you actually grab a cardboard box from a shelf on your way in and pick out your own cupcake(s) from the various trays leading down the line to the cash register — whole thing resembles a high school cafeteria; not sure if the one in the Village is like this too because I never went into it). So, no tables for sitting down and chatting. He told me though that they’re in the process of renovating an adjacent room with plenty of such tables, although that room may sometimes be rented out for private parties. Anyway, Ariel and I had chocolate cupcakes. She liked hers (in fact, here is a picture of it); I found mine a slight bit bland, but that may be how some people like their dessert — without too much sugar. I’m a sweet-aholic so, for me, the more sugar, the better, especially when I’m being horrible and am basically eating a mini chocolate cake for breakfast anyway… Their coffee was absolutely delicious though. Well worth waiting for!

I then spent the entire day running back and forth (again) between New York City Ballet and a ballroom event — this one, the Manhattan Amateur Classic. Most excellent dance weekend — will post about both tomorrow!

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.

T-Mobile

First Candace married Charles, then Baryshnikov graced the TV show with his majestic presence, and now yummy Magnolia Bakery, whose original West Village location was popularized by the same (Sex & the City, that is, not Misha ) is opening a new location just a few steps from Lincoln Center. Should make for an ideal after-ballet snacking ‘n chatting ground. Ariel and I, who were in the neighborhood, went to check it out today, since I’d heard it opened its doors yesterday, but unfortunately it’s only been available for private parties for the last two days. Tomorrow is its official public opening, 11 am sharp. Cupcakes for breakfast!

Ugh. Last night I had another reading at the Cornelia Street Cafe, as part of the Writers Room member reading series. (above photo is from a reading there last year; I felt like such crap last night I wouldn’t let any friends — including Ariel, who wrote about the evening here — take pictures). I almost didn’t give the reading because I was feeling depressed and sick (the two probably contributed to each other; having grown up in warm sunny Phoenix, I am just fundamentally not a cold-weather person and it seems like I often spend an entire winter down with something off and on). Anyway, another person had to back out last minute so I decided to be an adult and refrain from flaking out on something I’d committed to. Plus, Stan Richardson, playwright and curator of the series, is such an amazing person. He made me feel so much better and talked me out of my insecurities with his spectacular sense of humor. He really is a great person; thanks Stan

For the above reasons, it didn’t go as well as the first…. although I feel like that’s how life often is. Of all of my many court arguments over the years, my very first went by far the best — the presiding judge actually telling me it was well-crafted and well-articulated. Also, with my first reading, I just gave a brief intro to my novel then began reading; here, I was reading from another section further in, so I felt like I stood up there talking about what the manuscript was about and what came before the excerpt more than actually reading it. Anyway, it was brief and I survived.

The guy on after me though was really good. His name is Steve Reynolds, and he read from his memoir, portions of which will be published in Reader’s Digest, on surviving oral cancer. Oh — the theme of the night was “Doctors,” so all of ours dealt with medical conditions. Mine was about my main character’s having to go for a gruelling Barium Swallow exam after sensing a ball the size of a fist in her throat, and the playwright who followed us, Susan Haar’s consisted of two really good monologues from her newest play about a character who is sexually assaulted while in a coma. So, definitely an uplifting night in Cornelia Street Cafe!… Anyway, Reynolds is a great writer, who has attained enough ironic distance from his condition to write about it with both laugh-out-loud humor and sobering poignancy. He’s really able to make you feel what he’s feeling as he goes through the various stages.

At points, his excerpt even created a bit of commotion. A non-smoker, he was obviously befuddled at his diagnosis. He’s further dumbounded to learn (as are we!), that it’s actually caused by the human papilloma virus (HPV, the same one that causes cervical cancer in women), and whose chances you have of contacting rise the more sexual partners you have. According to stats, he tells us, once you have more than six partners, your chances of getting — either oral HPV or cancer; I’ve forgotten now because I was so blown away by the number — increase 420 percent with every new partner. This is over the course of a lifetime. Afterward, when Stan re-took the mike, he repeated, “420 percent??” “Yep,” Steve responded. Murmurs abounded and everyone’s face seemed to bear a rather horrified look of concentration. “I mean, if you’re a single woman in her 30s there’s no way you haven’t had more than that!” said a wildly gesticulating woman in the audience (okay, my friend! — but not poor Ariel — she looked mortified that people actually spoke about such things in public. I remember being new to New York once too, )

Anyway, afterward, I dragged my friends to Caffe Vivaldi around the corner, which is just kind of a nostalgic place for me, since I used to go there frequently when I first moved here. Unfortunately it doesn’t look much like I remember it: instead of being a quintessential cafe with every hot cozy drink and soothing fattening thing imaginable and loads of tables suitable for chatting by the fireplace, it’s now become a small dark music-hall, with the chairs and tables all shoved to one end to accommodate a huge piano and band area on the other. And of course once the band begins playing — they have two sets per night so they start early — conversation must end. And gone is their European staff who made the perfect panini and served good wine. Having said all that, I still rather enjoyed the first musician, a singer and pianist named Jess King. Her lovely, soulful voice and dark, melancholy tunes were perfect for my blue funk. She made me cry at one point and sometimes that’s just what you need — a good cry. Anyway, check her out here or here. And, to hear her in person, she plays there every other Tuesday night. I loved her.

Last night Alyssa and I went to a tap dance performance at the Julia Miles Theater in west midtown. I’m writing a formal review of it for Explore Dance, which I will link to when it’s up, but, since the show’s only on for two more days, I just want to say now, I loved it. Andrew Nemr trained with Gregory Hines, and it shows in his expressiveness and style. “Cats Paying Dues” is a very young troupe of up-and-comers (my favorite was 17-year-old Orlando Hernandez — wow!), and the performance was charmingly low-key, no frills, no fluff, no pretentiousness (praise the lord), just very good, immensely musical dancing, and excellent jazz band. If you’re in NY, for $39, I think it’s a great value. Go to telecharge (or 212-239-6200) for tix.

I saw a new friend there (a very nice guy whom I met from Apollinaire), Brian Seibert, who writes for the New Yorker — only famous people like Goddess Joan have bylines there, but Brian is a very good writer; here is his brief but well-written piece on Nemr and CPD (you have to scroll down a bit).

Afterward, Alyssa introduced me to this new(ish — it opened last May) lovely little wine and cheese bar around the corner, called Casellula. (They also have a blog, “Spread the Curd”.) Their wine list is amazing and delightfully inexpensive (compared to other nice wine bars), and they have an absolutely enormous list of cheeses, many locally produced, and a fromager to help with your selection. We shared the most scrumptious — and original — duck confit salad I’ve ever had — the finely shredded combo of meat, celeriac, gruyere cheese and apple gave it this deceptively simple “hash”-looking quality — and it was topped with dulcet pomegranite seeds, and baked duck-skin croutons to die for – and I mean die for! Alyssa and I were wondering where we could get more and how unhealthy it would be to eat a whole plate?… Shared desserts were flourless chocolate cake textured with finely ground chocolate chunks and soaked in a light cream that effectively countered the cake’s richness, and coconut crepes oozing with lemon filling and topped with a mound of fluffy, coconut-textured whipped cream. Serendipitously, pastry chef Allen Stafford, who’s in the picture with us, is a former stage designer with the Atlanta Ballet and a big Paul Taylor fan. Funny because when we first walked in, I could have sworn I recognized him; still not completely sure from where but likely some Paul Taylor or other dance performance. He also made the artwork in back of us. It looks like a painting from afar, but when you approach, you realize it’s made all of aluminum wine bottle closures. Very cool! The restaurant is just around the corner from the Alvin Ailey studios as well, so if I can ever get my lazy butt back in gear and start up with classes again, will make the perfect after-workout lounge.

Fun fun night! Big understatement! I didn’t even need to get drunk

Please excuse the Gawkerish, 15-year-old voice of this post. I waited until this morning to blog in hopes that the euphoria would dissipate and Kristin Sloan might post the group photo her boyfriend, Doug Jaeger, took, but as of yet neither has happened.

I must begin by calling myself a big fat hypocrit. I’ve laughed and rolled my eyes at Philip whenever he’s nearly fainted in front of the New York City Ballet stage door upon receiving a smile and hello from Jock Soto or Albert Evans or Wendy Whelan. Last night Danny Tidwell smiled and said hi to me and I promptly choked on my wine. Of course he doesn’t know me; I was just standing there staring gape-mouthed at him when he walked by with … oh crap I’m so bad, I think it was Jamie??… He was there with a girl from SYTYCD, but I’m not exactly sure who. Since the pre-show party was for bloggers, I was half-expecting his boyfriend to come (whom I was very much hoping to meet!) but Benaym was a no-show. I didn’t expect Danny though!!! Oh he’s so cute, and his smile is so warm and charming and sweet, it really just melted me. I can easily see why he is such a star. I got there earlier than everyone else and was nearly alone inside when the earth-shattering hello happened; each time one of my friends walked in, they greeted me only to get in return, “Omigod, omigod, Danny Tidwell said hi to me, Danny Tidwell said hi to me!!!” He’s so much smaller than he looks on TV or onstage. I couldn’t believe it. He’s always appeared to me the size of Carlos Acosta, but he’s well under six feet. It’s just the proverbial larger than life stage and screen presence I guess… And I’m very very very sorry for any SYTYCD fan who’s reading, but I just couldn’t bring myself to snap pics of him. In New York there’s an ironclad rule against “starf***ing.” Everyone does it, but everyone pretends they don’t and to break the pretense is practically illegal, a violation of the NYC social contract. Taylor and Evan and Ariel all agreed with me that I would definitely be immediately kicked out and may even be executed if I so much as tried surreptitiously to get a cell phone pic. So sorry!!! But Mr. Jaeger had a humongoid camera and was shooting up the place, so I’ll keep checking his site and see if he got any.

When Caleb Custer from Cedar Lake sent out the email announcing the blogger party, I had no idea who all was going to show. I was still swooning over Danny when who should breeze up his hair billowing in the wind but the beautiful one himself! When I spotted him pass by the large garage window (Cedar Lake’s studio is actually housed in a big garage, according to Philip, once used by photographer Annie Liebowitz), I couldn’t help myself. I screamed uncontrollably, “Look, there’s David Hallberg!” Doug (Fox), Philip, Ariel and probably about 75 other people in the lobby followed my point. David looked in at us, horrified. He promptly pretended to get a call on his cell phone and spent the next 20 minutes outside pacing up and down the street affecting a phone conversation, every so often peeking in the window to see if all the commotion at his arrival had died down. Meanwhile Danny remained huddled in a back corner with Jamie. Dancers are weird the way they sometimes crave and are other times embarrassed by attention.

Finally David braved the storm and ventured in. He is soft-friggin-spoken to make a massive understatement! He extended his hand to me and said something I couldn’t hear, I said simply, “hi, I’m Tonya,” feeling like a total ass, and he again said something I couldn’t make out. Soft-spoken or not, he clearly either had no idea who I was or was terrified of me. Ariel thinks it’s the latter, because of things like this and this. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the former though; he and Marcelo have got to be two of the only dancers on the face of the earth who never Google themselves. Anyway, the awkwardness was soon quelled by his sighting of Philip, who is apparently a friend of his through Craig Salstein. Philip was standing beside me. David doesn’t need to act at all; his natural reactions to things are so sweetly touching. You could see his recognition of Philip visibly register as his face brightened and he went bouncing toward Philip like a dog when it sees a regular playmate, practically rubbing his pelvis up against him when embracing. He then saw Ariel, standing beside Philip, whom he met when he was guesting once in Mobile, Alabama, and hugged her as well. I was feeling like the consummate dog crap, being the only one who didn’t receive a hug. But I guess that’s what I get for posting naked pictures and yelling at him for not blogging often enough on the Winger

Another highlight for me was meeting CounterCritic, whose original blog (critiquing the critics) I love. He’s such a fantastic writer whether he’s wickedly taunting critics or writing performance reviews himself, which are always spot-on (almost always anyway!) And he’s the only dance blogger who’s on Alex Ross’s blogroll. Oh jealously uncontained… Anyway, he’s so nice in person; all that blog pissiness is a total cover! I can’t really rib David for his puppyish behavior toward Philip because I followed CC around all night like a little dog, sitting next to him even during the show.

Speaking of which, could I talk a bit about the actual performance? Artistic director Benoit-Swan Pouffer, who by the way is really good-looking and personable and used to dance with my beloved Alvin Ailey, held a little Q&A with the bloggers afterward. He said he loves blogs: existing in a sphere so apart from traditional media, they bring something fresh and original to the dance world; they bring balance and new voices, and, though you never know what take you’re going to get from each one, it’s always interesting to see… I’m sure he never thought he’d be getting a blog post all about the pre-show hysteria of meeting Danny Tidwell and David Hallberg.

I want to look more at the (extensive!) press materials and the DVD they included (always an immense plus from dance companies), but for now I want to say how much I love dancer Jon Bond. Everything he does is so full-out, his lines are so sharp and even intense if that makes sense. Just little things like flexing a hand or foot, when he does it, it’s so pronounced that it looks all the more edgy in its awkwardness.

We saw three ballets: “Symptoms of Development,” by choreographer Jacopo Godani, a harsh, unsettling piece which dealt with technology and how it works against human interaction (Evan remarked to me afterward that it was an interesting inclusion in the rep they showed us, since we’re bloggers); “Ten Duets on a Theme of Rescue,” by Crystal Pite, my favorite duet being one in which Bond struggled to reach the female dancer in front of him, palm open and fingers extended to the max, running in place to catch up with her, but in vain, as she, running in place as well, was always too far ahead; and “Rite” by Stijn Celis, another take on a dance to Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring,” nearly all of which — of the ones I’ve seen anyway — evoke in different ways the chaos bordering on horror of the rite of passage of boys and girls into men and women. If you’re interested, here’s a YouTube clip of Pina Bausch’s take on the theme, and here’s Maurice Bejart’s, which I’m partial to. Celis’s “Rite” was different in that all characters were androgynous, so there was no real distinction between male and female. All dancers — about four men and four women — were dressed in Asian-looking strapless mini-dresses and wore heavy, almost operatic facial makeup. It actually reminded me of Nacho Duato’s Castrati, which I wrote about here, except both sexes were included, though not both genders (that I saw anyway; others may have different interpretations). The dancers darted, leaped over, and ran atop these three long log-looking sets, covered with green material and meant, I think, to evoke a primitive landscape. The dancers almost looked like nymphs as they interacted: regarding each other quizzically, examining the powder and sweat left on the ‘log landscape’ by each other in a somewhat grotesquely sexual way; performing dangerous run-and-jump catches with each other; it was kind of “Afternoon of a Faun“ish (original Nijinsky version) as well. All pieces were abstract, and all unsettling, but I think this was my favorite because it seemed to have the most going on that I could latch onto and make something of, and, because of the other “Rite’s” I’d seen, I had something to compare it to.

This is a new company, only four years old, and this is the third time I’ve seen them. They tend to take on edgy, visually striking and thought-provoking work and their dancers are very unafraid and do everything full force. For more info on their season, go here. Thank you so much to Cedar Lake for organizing this most fun, and thus far original, event. I’ll post pictures taken by the pro photographers if Caleb sends any my way…

For now, here’s a picture of Ariel taken in The Half King around the corner, where we afterward went to discuss the performance. Okay, where we went to discuss David and Danny

I saw a documentary last night at New York City Ballet’s State Theater that I really really loved. AND it’s going to air on PBS on April 8th, so everyone can see it! Don’t worry, I will definitely be reminding you all closer to April It’s called WATER FLOWING TOGETHER and is about the life of recently retired and widely beloved New York City Ballet dancer Jock Soto (pictured above after the showing speaking with photographer / filmmaker Gwendolen Cates — whom I’m told is related to Phoebe, though I don’t know if it’s true — and a moderator whose name I didn’t get).

(image from here)

There was some real hype over this, and I’m always ready to pounce in such instances, but in this case the hype was deserved. Although the film gets off to a slow start, it quickly gains momentum. I think what makes it so engaging is Soto’s interesting background and wonderful personality. He’s part Navajo, part Puerto Rican, and he grew up on a reservation in New Mexico, before moving to Phoenix (!) for ballet school. The film’s title is the name of his mother’s clan. There’s some great footage of the West, and my favorite parts of the film are (in addition to clips of his rehearsing Christopher Wheeldon’s tear-jerking duet “After the Rain” with the equally engaging Wendy Whelan, who is interviewed as well) those about his Native-American roots. (This could be partly because I have a Native American great-grandmother — Blackfoot to be exact — though I know next to nothing about her since, sadly, she’s been all but erased from my family history). Anyway, Jock’s mother was an artist and used to make Katchina dolls (how I miss Arizona…) and ceramic bowls, and he and his brother used to make and sell Indian Fry Bread (how I SO miss Arizona…) when they were kids. After he retired from NYCB in 2005 he went to culinary school and he and his partner, professional chef Luis Fuentes, have just begun a catering business, so I guess those foodie roots were always there!

Another thing that struck me: Jock’s homosexuality has always been accepted by his mother’s side of the family. American Indian culture, she says, holds homosexuals in high esteem because of their difference. (His paternal Latin side: not so accepting; aunts and grandmas keep asking when he’s gonna get married and, because his father hasn’t said anything, he feels uncomfortable revealing his sexuality to them). But interestingly, Indian society is also matriarchal. So, where women are valued, so are gay men.

(photo by Paul Kolnick)

And, like his longtime partner Wendy Whelan, Jock has such a sweetly endearing personality and a great sense of humor. He laughs easily at himself. Upon entering his apartment (which he openly tells you is a typical NYC dancer shoebox that he nevertheless pays $1,850 for) there’s a sign that reads, “No liquor served to Indians after 6:00 p.m.” Later, while preparing for a performance, he says, “as I put on my makeup and my costume and do my hair, I think, what a strange occupation for a 40-year-old man,” and at another point, trying hard to conceal his fear of and heartache about permanently leaving the stage says, “well, June 19, 2005 will be the last time I’ll ever have to dress in drag.” At one point, he actually lets loose and cries over his eternally pained body and his pending retirement. The scene makes him human and vulnerable and it really drives home that it must be so awful for a dancer to have to leave what he’s lived his entire life for at such a young age.

Anyway, it’s an excellent film and I left out a lot: his meeting and befriending Andy Warhol (I wish Cates had actually gone into a bit more detail on this); his ruminations on his coming to NY at only age 14, living without his family and dropping out of school in the 7th grade; and a lot of amazing dancing, including some great footage of him flying all over stage with his young little sprightly teenage body! Please do watch it on PBS in April, though they have to chop a good twenty minutes off for TV, which seriously frightens me since PBS seems to have a knack for making everything they show as bland as possible. If they cut any of the parts I just mentioned, there will be hell to pay!

It already seems this film is a slightly different version than that others have seen. In her lengthy review, Tobi Tobias mentions several classroom scenes where he’s teaching students at the School of American Ballet (from which aspiring NYCB dancers must graduate), which seemed to be missing from last night’s version. And smartly so, I think: “Classical ballet being the last bastion of chivalry in our disheveled era, Soto works continually to encourage a worshipful attitude in the gentlemen toward their ladies.” Considered the quintessential “manly” dancer though he may be, something about that line kind of makes me want to vomit.

Sometimes it can start to feel a bit stiflingly cliquish inside the State Theater if I’m there for too long, but I had a nice time hanging out before and after with Philip and Ariel, whose reports are here and here.

(image linked from here)

Just quickly before I go out to meet Ariel (who’s now living in NY ), here’s my review of “Rhythm of Love” on Explore Dance. Basically the same as what I said here on my blog, but more critical. I sometimes feel badly being critical (especially when reviewing ’small people’ — biggies like Christopher Wheeldon and Jerome Bel can handle it), but I tried to be constructive and respectful.

Also, for people in New York, the Dance On Camera Festival is currently underway at the Walter Reade Theater in Lincoln Center. A lot of the films are experimental, and most programs have a combination of shorts with small documentaries. On opening night I saw Program 2, which included, most excitingly for me, a 45-minute documentary about (in)famous (depending on your perspective) German choreographer Pina Bausch. This was my first Bausch experience and I definitely can see what people both love and hate about her. Funny because, according to the critics, she doesn’t seem to talk much about her work, so to big Bausch fans the fact that she was actually talking was the draw. To me, though, I wanted her to shut up so I could see more of the excerpts of her work the film provided! In one excerpted piece, women wearing very flimsy nightgowns were violently thrasing their bodies about from the waist down, their hair flying about wildly. It was both beautiful and disturbing. In another, one woman screamingly commanded another woman to smile, the woman being yelled at tried but her smile wasn’t big enough to please the first woman, so woman #1 violently dunked the second woman’s head into a bucket of water several times. You can hear the audience’s upset. In another excerpt, a man reaches down under a woman’s dress and lifts her up, seemingly by the crotch. In its awkwardness, it is both unsettling and comical. If you saw the film “Talk To Her” by Pedro Almodovar, her choreography is performed at the very beginning, but from what I saw on Wednesday, that seems to be a very watered-down version of her work.

Anyway, I am now dying to see her dance group (Tanztheater Wuppertal), if they ever make it to NY. Art had his first Bausch experience this year as well, live at UCLA, and he seems as smitten as I! Here’s dance writer Eva Yaa Asantewaa’s take on the Bausch doc and another short in Program 2, and here is a post on the same by Anna Brady Nuse (who is a dance filmmaker). For a good, detailed break-down of the whole festival, visit Anna’s blog post here.

I don’t have much time to write because I need to head off to Alvin Ailey soon, but here are a few pictures I took last night of Pasha after the “Rhythm of Love” show. Very cute show, and review coming soon; if you’re anywhere near Stamford, Connecticut, it’s playing for one more night — tonight. Go here for tix.

Signing autographs for little fans. So cute! All these people were coming up to him afterward telling him how much they loved him and asking for autographs. Elaine (his former student, very sweet lady, in the blue sweater here) and I were teasing him about how we knew him way back when. He insists he’s not “famous” and nothing has changed a bit. And he definitely hasn’t changed — still same sweet guy who always has time for old friends…

Posing for picture with Elaine after the theater has pretty much cleared out. No pics of me because I have a nasty cold and know it can be devastating for dancers to get sick, so didn’t want to stand too close to him (not to mention, I look like absolute crap). It really sucked missing out on my hug though!

With Elaine again, in front of the theater. I always feel like crying whenever I say goodbye to him now…

(above pic from Kumquat Cupcakery, who supplied the evening’s goodies)

A while ago I posted about a new bakeshop that recently opened on Wall Street. Well, I haven’t yet had a chance to make it over there (not so much because I’m lazy as that it’s been freezing and often rainy or sleety or slushy outside and it’s about 10 blocks away from my office, a lot farther than I’d hoped). So, to make up for my steadfast resistance these last couple of weeks, I dragged Alyssa with me to this lovely little event last night! (Author Rachel Kramer-Bussel is a MySpace friend of mine and she’d posted about it there; read the MediaBistro write-up here.)

It was splendid! Alyssa and I each had four cupcakes apiece. My favorite by far was this mini chocolate cake with chocolate frosting (being the chocolate lover I am), but most excitingly, surprisingly delicious was the middle. When you bit in, a creamy vanilla center just oozed out, flooding your mouth. I loved it! To me, the worst thing about cupcakes is all the cake — I like the frosting and will often half the cake height-wise and only eat the top. So, very happy was I to find a big mound of frosting smack in the middle of the bottom half! Alyssa’s favorites were the very popular red velvet, and a peanut butter-flavored mini. I didn’t get a chance to try that one apparently because I was busy placing my drink order when they were whizzed around.

It was a fun night. They had three raffles, giving away a stationary set bearing a cupcake design, a necklace with a cupcake pendant, and grand prize was an apron and oven mitten set featuring embroidered … guess whats! Apparently, the blog has a meet-up group which gets together every so often to try the City’s various new cupcakeries and learn cupcake design, etc. Hmmm…another group for me to join? Only if I promise myself to go to at least some of my Sambazina events.

The meet-up was held at the Beauty Bar on East 14th Street, which I’d never been to before. Walls were covered with vintage posters of women being coiffed, but what surprised me was that they actually have little manicurist booths where you can have your nails done whilst boozing it up with friends! Cool idea.

Afterward, after four cupcakes and a glass of red wine I was feeling my blood sugar soar a bit, so we headed to Veselka, the East Village’s 50-year-old Ukranian deli, and forced ourselves to eat things that are good for us (ie: borscht and stuffed cabbage). When I very first moved to New York I lived on 9th and Avenue A, the heart of the East Village and just around the corner from this homey little place, and I haven’t been back to the area much since, so it was kind of nostalgic.

Anyway, on the subway ride home I ran into an old acquaintance from my studio who accusingly asked me where I’d been. “Saving money,” I told her. Seriously, I’d meant to sign up for groups this month, but had other things going on on Monday nights, when my favorite instructor teaches. I really really really must sign up for January’s classes though. Especially now…

I really had a nice time last night at New York City Ballet’s opening night gala program, celebrating the start of their winter season. The highlights for me were the two world premieres — one of a new ballet, by NYCB artistic director, Peter Martins, the other a brief but fabulous excerpt from a new movie-in-the-making of Jerome Robbins’s jazzy cool ballet, “N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz.” Rather than go in chronological order of the program, I’ll start with the highlights.

I’ve seen a lot of new ballets lately, and this one by Martins has definitely been one of my favorites. Titled “Grazioso,” it’s set to a score by Mikhail Glinka from the operas “Ruslan and Ludmilla” and “A Life For the Tsar.” I don’t know these operas, but the handy dandy Wikipedia tells me the first is based on a Pushkin poem with a complicated narrative, but at one point depicts three would-be suitors vying for Ludmilla’s hand in marriage. I assume this is the part Martins had set his ballet to, as that’s what I perceived “Grazioso” to be about.

And what a mad fun sexy competition it was! Everyone who knows me knows this is exactly the kind of thing I go for : men trying to outdance each other with bravado galore. But there weren’t only high, twisty jumps and sailing-across-the-stage-in-a-splits leaps, Martins filled his male dancers’ variations with lots of very intricate, fast, complex footwork that required great precision and agility. And of course these men had that in spades. They were: Andrew Veyette, recently promoted to soloist, Daniel Ulbricht, who is known for his virtuosity and wowed audiences last season with his Mercutio in Martins’ “Romeo + Juliet,” and Gonzalo Garcia, a recent NYCB transplant from San Francisco Ballet, who I find to be very Rasta Thomas-esque. The sassy, daring, very athletic Ashley Bouder, whom I am growing to love more and more each time I see, danced Ludmilla.

One of the reasons I love Ashley is that she just throws herself into everything she does with such wild, intense abandon; she’s very much a risk-taker, which is what Balanchine wanted of his dancers. And, she’s a cute actor to boot. If I was a guy, though, I’d be very intimidated partnering her. She doesn’t really wait for the guy to be ready to go into a lift, she just throws herself up and he’d better be there to take her the rest of the way or else! That’s the way it should be of course — do your own thing and let the man figure out how to support you

As far as the choreography: there was some cute partnering — at one point each man takes turns promenading Ashley around slowly and delicately, trying his best to be the most chivalrous. Then she takes off running, fluttering around all three men in an outer circle, like a Firebird, each one taking her hand and doing a little running lift with her before she rejects him and goes on to the next guy. Gonzalo, probably the best actor of the guys, feigned a stunned, dejected look when she threw off his hand and went into a lift with Daniel. Upon her rejection of him, Daniel simply shrugged and prepared for some more crazy bravura turns. Andrew looked thoroughly befuddled by her behavior, in a cute way of course! I liked these duets better than Martins’s “Romeo + Juliet” pas de deux, but I still think where Martins really excels choreography-wise is in the solo dancing, particularly with the men. As I said, some brilliant fast, fun, intricately-patterned footwork that made for a dazzling competition for Ludmilla’s flighty little hand.

The only thing I didn’t get was the costumes. Ashley was wearing this cute A-line cut, slightly puffed shoulder-sleeved dress with an apron-like covering. She looked like a chambermaid. The guys were wearing these 70s-style black tops that looked like they were made out of stretchy lycra with low-cut V necks lined with florescent colors — a different shade for each man. She looked like she belonged in a Dickens novel, they in Studio 54.

Second highlight was the movie-in-the-making adaptation of Jerome Robbins’s “N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz.” (above image is taken from the film’s website). Craig Hall is a natural film actor, let me tell you! He’s extremely photogenic and he has the subtle acting skills required for on-screen close-ups. They only showed a very brief excerpt but I think this is going to be fabulous when finished. They filmed it in what looks to be a run-down area of New Jersey, overlooking the Hudson River toward Manhattan. There’s a sole train track running through a patch of dead grass surrounded by abandoned buildings, and the filmed piece begins with Craig standing right in the middle of the tracks, a cocky, death-defying look on his face. Pretty Rachel Rutherford approaches him from behind, they perform a series of lifts, she seemingly trying to get him both off of the dangerous tracks and to love her. At the end, he walks away and she looks forelorn.

They were wearing regular, street clothes, I think just jeans and t-shirts. So, the filmmakers are taking the Robbins out of its 50s-era creation and placing it in the present to show how timeless Robbins — and ballet — really are.

And what I really love is that the filmmakers shot the pas de deux from various angles, some from high above, so you’re looking down on the would-be lovers at the different shapes their two bodies are making. It’s so much more interesting than seeing it straight on, from floor level, in the theater. This is what film can do for dance, I believe, really enhance the viewing and interpretive experience by showing different shapes and different viewpoints based on the angle of the camera and the distance of its gaze. I can’t wait for the film in whole to come out. The dancers who introduced it, Ellen Bar and Sean Suozzi, mentioned that it had just won an award, though I didn’t get the name of the festival.

So, the rest of the evening: they began with the Rose Adagio from “Sleeping Beauty,” Beauty being danced with the sweet, charming Megan Fairchild. This is the part where she is courted by four princes, who each take her around in a promenade, then let go of her hand while she performs those very difficult one-footed balances on her own. The new Martins ballet kind of had echoes of that now that I think of it. They also performed “Liturgy,” another Christopher Wheeldon Rorschach ballet. NYCB stars Wendy Whelan and Albert Evans (pictured at the top of this post, on the program’s cover) did the physically demanding, at times very beautiful and, as the name implies, beatific, pas de deux. I think I’m learning to not try to “get” Wheeldon — at least not his pas de deux — but just to appreciate Wendy’s mind-bogglingly, seemingly skeleton-less body and the enchanting, spidery shapes she makes with it. At intermission, I saw Philip and he exclaimed, “wasn’t Liturgy fantastic!” Taunting me! They also did a small excerpt from Balanchine’s “Western Symphony” a cutely raucous ballet celebrating the American West, replete with saloon girls, led by dazzling Maria Kowroski, and cowboys, led by Damian Woetzel. I’d seen him in a Fall For Dance Robbins piece several weeks ago and was underwhelmed by his performance then, thinking he didn’t give it his all. But, happily, he was back in full force last night, dancing and acting the rowdy, spur-kicking cowboy perfectly. Damian really is such a cutie.

They ended with a little filmed tribute to Lincoln Kirstein, this year being the centennial of his birth, and then on to the party, which I’m too poor to attend.

But I did see the set-up. Here’s where I stood sipping a glass of wine at pre-performance cocktail hour, apparently across the room from Sandi. I spied Kristin, and was about to say hello when interrupted by a bartender asking for my order. After I was finished, Kristin was nowhere to be found. There was no red carpet bearing famous people, so I guess there wasn’t much for her to film this time, as there had been for Martins’s “Romeo + Juliet” premiere. As I was leaving, I did see David Michalek waiting for the party to begin, which made me wonder if Candace Bushnell was there… the connection being of course celebrated artists married to star dancers, not that Michalek is venturing into the world of social satire / literary chick-lit

Above pic is of Marissa Nadler playing at the Whitney Museum on Friday night at the Whitney’s Friday Nights Live event (soon to be renamed); and, in the background is — look, a Christopher Wheeldon Morphoses ballet! Just kidding — I’m making fun of myself for this post of course!

I spent the weekend largely looking at art. On Friday night, my friend Dee and I went to the Whitney’s Kara Walker exhibit, “My Complement, My Enemy, My Oppressor, My Love,” about slavery and the Ante-Bellum South, which was excellent, and something everyone who has a chance should see. And the night before, my friend Alyssa invited me an opening of Shinique Smith’s show, “All Purpose,” at the Moti Hasson gallery in Chelsea.

This piece is titled “Thank You, Come Again.” I turned off my flash, because I’m always afraid it’s going to hurt the artwork, so the pics are a bit blurry, but this one’s comprised of several articles of clothing, all clumped together and affixed to the wall, a few scraggly threads trailing from the bottom looking to me almost like blood or tears, and a pile of socks with a sole red rose in the center beneath the wall hanging, on the floor.

Smith basically assembles her artwork from used / found objects, which reminded me of John Jasperse. Alyssa, who’s an Art history grad student specializing in African, told me using found objects rather than buying new is big among African artists right now because it symbolizes a rebellion against colonialism, globalization and the cultural imperialism of the West. (Smith is from Baltimore, but apparently is associated with African artists.)

I thought this one was charming. (Unfortunately, the gallery didn’t have the names of the artwork in its press release or on its website, so I don’t know all the names of the pieces). To me this looks like an animal, like a donkey, and I found the “head” and “ears” sweet because they’re made of a satiny fabric and tulle respectively, making me think of dance of course. Alyssa thought it looked “flamenco.” But the animal, who is carrying several adorable stuffed animals on its shoulders, appears to be carrying heavy bags on its side as well, so it looks a bit overburdened though not downtrodden.

I liked this one because it made me think of Ian McEwan’s novel “Enduring Love.” There was a rope attaching the crate to a pole in the ceiling, so it resembled a hot air balloon, and that book opens with a horrifying hot air balloon ride gone heinously wrong. The doe at the bottom is nostalgic to me, maybe because it looks like something my grandparents would always keep in a glass cabinet in their living room.

This one, the ’star’ piece, is called “Glutton.” It was made of gilded cushions, with a red velvet blanket spilling out underneath. Alyssa and her friends thought it looked like a Buddha, which I guess it does, but is Buddha associated with gluttony? I found it beautiful but somewhat hideous at the same time; like incredible wealth and how it can be so striking but can also pervert or uglify.

Alyssa in foreground with friends Alison and Kim (who is an artist in Connecticut) in back. We joked about how Alyssa is becoming the “Where’s Waldo” of my blog It was a very well-attended opening.

Anyway, I really enjoyed it, just walking around sipping Vodka (compliments of the exhibit’s sponsor), chatting with friends, and observing, investigating the art, trying to figure out how it was assembled, what materials it was made of, what all of the component objects were, what the work as a whole meant, symbolized, or evoked for me. The whole exhibit had kind of an air of nostalgia to me and made me a bit sad, sweet as the sculptures or wall figures were.

But it made me think about Jasperse too. I liked a lot of Smith’s pieces, but nothing really blew me away the way Jasperse’s clothes hanger sculpture / set did, the same way that none of his choreographic uses of found objects knocked me out like the hangers. And yet overall I still really enjoyed the Smith exhibit. But I was hard on Jasperse, coming away from the performance generally more disappointed. And I wonder why that is… if it’s that I expect more from dance (or something different anyway), if it’s that I spend more time with a dance performance, or more money on it (assuming I’m not buying the artwork anyway). Maybe it’s that I was physically closer to the art, could investigate it more thoroughly and take my time with it, or maybe it’s just that the drink and friendly chatter added to my enjoyment? … Anyway, after this exhibit, I felt like I shouldn’t have been as hard on Jasperse.

Another interesting discussion ensued amongst us ladies: whether you need to know something about the artwork in order to appreciate it or whether a work of art should stand entirely on its own. Funny to me because Jolene and I had just had a similar discussion on her blog (see comments here) regarding the two new abstract ballets ABT just put on. Alison said she didn’t necessarily need to know very much about a work, but titles and little notes did help. Sometimes. For example, the title in the top piece, “Thank You, Come Again,” which the artist’s note says is made from “ex-boyfriend’s clothes,” made her realize the pile of socks wasn’t just a mound of dirty underwear sitting on the floor for no purpose, they were remnants of the subject’s ex and they illustrated her sorrow and emptiness, a feeling made all the more powerful by the rose in the middle.

But, Alison added, Mark Rothko (whose art at least in his later years was extremely abstract, usually consisting of a sole geometric shape or different colored horizontal lines on a canvas) could give detailed names to all of his paintings until he was blue in the face and she would still see only abstract shapes.

I remember from the Kara Walker exhibit a drawing of an old white man, shirtless and with saggy male breasts, who was kind of breast-feeding a black baby. But he didn’t look so happy about it; rather, he tried to shield his rather disgusted expression from the baby’s mother. The image was striking and I kind of understood the racial aspect, but it meant so much more when I read in the curator’s explanation that the white man was famous abolitionist John Brown. So Walker is commenting upon the futility of white-led abolitionism and questioning the patriarchal reverence with which this man is held.

Another silhouette appeared to me, on first look, like a woman was jumping up excitedly, kicking her heels in the air, doing a little happy dance. But it also looked like her wrist was falling off and there was a spill on the ground below her that looked like a big mess. After reading the curator’s words I realized it was a pool of blood; she’d slit her wrist, and was dancing in excitement because by committing suicide, she’d freed herself and performed her own small role in abolishing slavery by depriving it of property.

(image copied from Kelly Salerno online art gallery)
Even just the silhouettes themselves: I hadn’t realized this little decorative art form was a fixture of, first aristocratic, then haute-bourgeois households, the poser usually being a delicate white woman; in fact, portraiture technique in the 1800s became a way of training “good ladies.” So, by painting most of her subjects in this way, Walker was turning an upper-class white art form on its head. The curator’s notes also say that the silhouette mimics the reductiveness of stereotypes, which I thought of as I was viewing the exhibit. But not knowing the history of silhouettes, I would have missed out on the class issue.

Anyway, sorry this post is all over the place. I’m starting to blab so am going to go to bed now. I also just wanted to point out that there’s a great conversation taking place on Apollinaire’s blog regarding dance-makers’ obligations to their audiences. Go here to take part. The dance blogosphere is becoming fun!

Thanks to my wonderful friend, Kathy, who knows what a horrendous sucker I am for anything containing substantial amounts of sugar, for alerting me to the fact that a new piggery, Crumbs, is opening tomorrow in the Financial District. They will be giving a complimentary cupcake of choice to the first 1000 patrons. Woo hoo! Because I didn’t just learn yesterday at the doctor’s office that I have now gained 9 pounds during my dance hiatus or anything…

(photo by Fabrizio Ferri)

Julio!!! Today I trekked all the way out to the end of the 2 line, to Brooklyn College’s Performing Arts Auditorium, to see Julio Bocca’s very final performance in the United States. Julio, Argentinian ballet legend who spent most of his career with American Ballet Theater and who just retired from ABT last year (see my bizillion photos of that splendid event here), danced one final year with the ballet / tango company he founded in Argentina, Ballet Argentino, and is now permanently retiring from dance. His final performance is to be in Argentina next month. He’s 40 years old.

He’s so great. Watching him today made me sad again, remembering last year’s farewell. He looked really good, more in his element today actually than toward the end of his ABT days. He looked really happy and at ease. And he’s let his hair grow out, which to me looks a lot better than short:

At the end, in the final curtain call, he came out in a white bathrobe. At ABT’s final bow, he came out in tights only and had a beer, at one point pouring it all over himself. This curtain call was about 1/100th the length of last year’s, and I’m thinking it’s in large part because the theater was filled with regular Brooklyn College-ites and not Bocca fans. Several people around me exclaimed that they’d never seen the auditorium so packed. They didn’t seem to know…

Anyway, the performance, “Bocca Tango” was a series of balletic tangos, most very beautiful, some cute and humorous.

Julio shined in his solos, in which he danced gorgeous contemporary balletic pieces, one with a table as prop / set, and the other with a ladder. The ladder was my overall favorite, as, judging from the applause, was the audience’s.

The way he worked that ladder, snaking his body through the rungs, hurling himself onto a step and acrobatically throwing his legs up and over his body where they landed on a top bar. It was incredible, and looked very risky.

He also did a few duets with a female partner, and a couple with a male, in which he danced the female part. All pas de deux involved a combination of tango and ballet, so among all of the partnerships, including the male / male, there was both straight tango dancing and beautiful lifts. Julio makes a really lovely follower / ballerina There was also a group number involving several couples, two male / female, one male / male (involving Julio again as ‘the feminine’). The male / male duets weren’t really homoerotic or romantic though; they were more cute and playful.

My favorite duet overall was one he danced with a woman to a swift allegro, a kind of milonga-style tango combined with swingy balletic lifts. They were both dressed in light blue — he shirtless and in pastel pants, she in a flowing knee-length baby blue dress. Both barefoot. Much of the partner dancing was barefoot, which I prefer to the typical high tango heels. It’s more natural, you can see the shape of the leg better when the dancer goes on releve (ball of foot), and of course the beauty of the foot itself. Plus, I think it’s easier to dance in bare feet, even if you’re on releve the whole time. He had another seductive number with another woman, both of them dressed only in underwear. The lights were very dimmed so you couldn’t really make out much besides the outlines of their bodies, making it all the more sensuous, in my opinion.

It was of course an irreplaceable experience to see Julio perform, but as far as the choreography went, after about the first hour, everything began to look the same: same overhead lifts, same tango steps, same combinations. I think the choreographer (Ana Maria Stekelman) could work to vary the choreography more, come up with some more original, more poetic lifts at least. And I haven’t taken much tango, but this seemed pretty basic. Luis Brava’s “Forever Tango” had a lot more variety. In Brava’s show, which I saw three or four years ago, I remember seeing a man lift his partner overhead, then, continuing to carry her, do chaine turns (continuous two-footed turns) diagonally across the room. It was breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it since.

I still can’t believe this was Julio’s final performance…

Saturday night, Apollinaire and I went to the Baryshnikov Arts Center in Hell’s Kitchen to see one of the best flamenco performances I’ve ever seen, Maria Pages’s “Self Portrait.” Brilliant! Those bewitching hands! Those boneless wrists! How does she do it? She made me want to take flamenco again so badly.

One thing I really love about flamenco is how the band is part and parcel of the dance. Far from being stuck down in some orchestra pit, they sat adjacent to the stage, four band members on each side, their gaze concentrated on Maria. There was one male singer, one female, and instruments included drums, guitars (obviously) but even a cello! Apollinaire and I both remarked we’d never seen such an instrument at a flamenco performance before. The singing, especially the man (although Apollinaire loved the woman) was gorgeous. I don’t know that much about world music or dance (other than the little Latin I’ve taken) but the man’s singing sounded very Indian, not at all Spanish. Both song and dance seem filled with so much anguish and sorrow, but also celebration and immense beauty.

There were also two male dancers who accompanied Maria at points, and of course I went wild over their insanely fast footwork. Plus, one looked quite a bit like Herman, with long, black boyish curls. Irresistible!

The night was made all the more fun by the salon / cafe-style setting. Instead of a regular theater, they had set up little round tables surrounded by folding chairs, and they sold champagne (only $4 per cup!) and little nut mixes that you could bring into the “theater” with you. The relaxed atmosphere made you want to tap your feet to the infectious rhythm, clap your hands, snap your fingers, shout “Ole” and try to sing along with the band. I want more of these kinds of things! The last two numbers were danced to a remake of John Lennon’s “Imagine” (which is amazingly flamenco-friendly — who knew?!), and then the band members all began chanting and kind of cutely cajoling Maria into dancing some more. Their voices sounded like a kind of flamenco rap! So much fun.

Another highlight:

The man himself Not onstage, but in the audience, front center. From where I was sitting, I had the perfect view of him and I couldn’t stop watching. I broke out into giggles at several points as well. He’s so cute. He wears his hair all mussed about and has a trendy goatee and he’s still very small and dancerly, so from afar he looks just like he always did; it’s only when you get up close you see all the lines on his face. When we were in the lobby and Apollinaire was taking care of the press tickets while I was placing my alcohol order, he walked in. The ticket collector called out to him. “Misha,” she called him! Not Mr. Baryshnikov!!! I know he probably told all of his employees to call him by his nickname, but still! Anyway, more cafe-style, participatory Latin dance events with Baryshnikov within reach please please

Finally, this has nothing to do with Latin dance or ballet legends or even dance in general, but while I’m on the subject of my crazy weekend, on Friday night my friend Alyssa, whose friend does PR for The Big Apple Circus, invited me to their gala. I haven’t been to the circus since high school, and I’ve never been to any gala event. Beforehand in the lobby they had very chi-chi hors d’oeuvres like mini duck tacos, along with open bar and cotton candy Then they gave us box dinners while we watched the show.

Mmmm

Alyssa enjoys a glass of wine with dinner.

Show was fun – -nothing big with elephants or tigers, but there were some good gymnasts and really cute dogs. I know I should probably be against any use of animals, but they were just so cute…

As long as they’re treated well… This lady had these adorable poodles walking on their hind legs carrying various objects. At one point a poodle came out dressed in an old lady’s moomoo and, walking on its hind legs holding a leash connected to a cat, walked the cat around the perimeter of the tent. Alyssa and I were laughing so hard we were crying.

Then, they had these amazing acrobats. This duo reminded me of David and Marcelo mainly I guess because of their hair color. Marcelo lay down on his back, raised his feet in the air, and kicked David all about, sending him into these continuous magnificient air sommersaults!

Sorry about the blur. I didn’t want to hurt anyone by turning on my flash.

There was a great belly / hoola dancer.

And these bronzed people who did these crazy lifts.

Christopher Meloni from Law & Order: SVU, and Meredith Viera, were the celebrity ringleaders.

Hehe, fun night! After the show, they brought out a mat and covered the show area with an array of desserts. It was like midnight buffet on a cruise ship. They had every kind of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream bar imaginable, an enormous cake with “Big Apple Circus” written all over it, cookies, chocolate-covered fruit, brownies, everything. I didn’t feel so well when I walked out of there to be honest. I do wonder how this compares to ABT’s galas…

I was so sad over ABT season ending, I felt like I needed to pull myself out of my depression. And what better way to do that than by … taking a dance class! I returned to my very first studio, Paul Pellicoro’s DanceSport, where I began three and a half years ago with group classes before I’d transferred to Dance Times Square and started privates with Pasha. It all seems like such a long time ago now, but remarkably, I recognized so many faces — so many of my old friends were still there and I was reunited with four of them in a one-hour period! Passion for ballroom is something that just stays with you forever.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t all that prepared with my dance bag. I forgot to pack a pair of beige tights, so had to look like a bit of an ass with mismatched shoes.

I wanted to ease myself slowly back into it — it’s been six months since my last lesson at DTS — so I decided on a bronze (lowest-level) Cha Cha — always my easiest dance.

Ugh, not anymore! I remembered all the steps but forgot how hard it is to maintain proper technique when the teacher plays the music at full speed! Warm-up went well-ish, but when the actual partner dancing began, I was tripping all over myself in no time. Plus, I forgot how hard it is to dance, to function really, in those blasted high-heeled, open-toed shoes. I’m always sliding forward in them, leaving my heel unstable. I guess it helps if you normally wear similar street shoes, like high-heeled sandals, but I don’t.

Happily, whenever I felt or saw myself in the mirror reverting to a nasty habit — like rising up on my toes during the middle cha cha cha instead of staying grounded with my heel on the floor, or falling backward during an underarm turn because I forget to have my body weight forward — I’d hear Pasha’s voice (“no leaning back, Tonya”), or feel his hand lightly but firmly pushing down on my head (which he used to do to keep me from rising on the cha cha chas). So, even though bad habits die hard, the words of great teachers don’t

So I made a lot of mistakes. But, eh, I’ll get back into it.

Interestingly, I met an old friend from my Swing team, Mark, in the lobby. He was heading to a Hustle class and asked me what I’d signed up for. When I told him the International Cha Cha, he told me he thought the teacher, Werner Figar (who is new since I was last at the studio), was a member of the modern dance group, Elisa Monte Dance. He told me he recognized his name from a recent New York Times article, which I looked up when I got home and is here. The guy in the picture does look like Werner (who was very good — both as a Latin dancer and teacher), but his name isn’t on the company’s website. It’s just so odd to me that someone dances both Latin Ballroom and Modern professionally. They are such different kinds of dance and usually a person isn’t good at both. But very cool if he is! I’ll have to ask him next class…

DanceSport has relocated since I was last there — used to be at Columbus Circle and is now on 34th Street right near the Empire State Building. Their new space is way the heck bigger than the last — really floored me.

So many rooms!

And here’s the new huge lobby, which even has a little cafe off to the side. Paul, the owner, taught Al Pacino to dance for “Scent of a Woman,” so that poster stays up always.