New York - - Page 22

September 23, 2006

Nipple Covers, Sore Crotches, Gay Men, Breasts, and Self-Analysis…

Ah, such is the world of ballroom dancing!… Seriously, just when I was going to bitch to high hell about gay men not having any clue as to female needs for modesty, my wonderful teacher, Luis, has redeemed himself and agreed to let me wear for the showcase a cute but covering halter top! Initially he wanted me to wear a bikini top. I told him no way, with all the lifts, dips, fish dives, back bends, rag dolls, upside-down-shakes — there is no way; my boobs will definitely fly out! Definitely. When I explained this to him, he looked at me as if I was speaking another language. I think that because breasts are completely meaningless to gay men, breasts shooting out of skimpy costume tops mid-performance are likewise wholly uneventful… When I stared him down, he finally got it, and said, “Well, if it’s that big of a deal, you can get nipple covers, you know.” No, I didn’t. What are nipple covers, pray tell — does anyone know?? I am so not a real dancer!! Anyway, I showed him various pictures of alternatives to skimpy tops, and he brightened considerably when I showed him one of me in my former West Coast Swing team outfit, the top part of which was a halter. Yay, agreement! No, seriously, I jest: Luis is great! He okayed my new LaDuca shoes as well (pronounced them ‘cute’ even!), which is really cool because, though they’re not standard Latin dance shoes, they are closed-toed, and since I have such high arches, it’s very difficult for me to wear open-toed shoes because my feet tend to slide out of them whenever I point. So, anyway, today I trekked out to my (well, shouldn’t say ‘my’ since virtually everyone in the Latin world uses her) Russian seamstress, Valentina, all the way out near Brighton Beach so she could update my measurements and sketch what I wanted. She did my last competition costume for me, and nothing fell out, so I trust her. Think I’ll still try to get a hold of some of those nipple things though, as well as some serious double-stick tape. You can never be too careful in the oh so costume-malfunction-prone world of Latin Ballroom dance…

Last night, Luis and I went straight through our routine twice, no stops! It was the most intense workout I think I’ve ever had. I told him so and he laughed, “What do you mean, I’m the one doing all the lifts!” Which is true. I try to help, I really do, I swear!!! And his crotch must be extremely sore today — we do this one trick called a “snake,” where I go into a dip, then slide between his legs, feet first, then body, then head, ending up behind him facing sideways, and, I don’t know what it was, perhaps because I was wearing heels for the first time dancing the routine, but I kept whacking my head straight into his groin while trying to get it under. I’ve never done that before! Maybe it was subconscious anger over the skimpy top?! Ha ha ha 🙂 Anyway, poor Luis…

Last night, my friend took me out to dinner for watching her kitty while she was away visiting her boyfriend in Scotland — only to tell me she’s marrying the bf and moving to Glasgow! Which I was of course very happy for her for, though I am going to really miss her 🙁 But, hey man, why can’t I marry a Scottish boyfriend and move to Glasgow???????

But something in our dinner conversation ended up starting me on this self-analysis trip. She’s a freelance writer and editor (which is one reason why it’ll be relatively easy for her to relocate out of the country — lucky lucky lucky her!!), and in telling her I was thinking about trying to get into the same line of work, she suggested I begin regularly scavenging the paper recycling dumpster in my apartment building for magazines so I can think up stories. Which I did for the first time upon returning home last night. Found a lovely W magazine and Bergdorf Goodman catalog (the latter of which is almost like a Vanity Fair, interestingly, with all its articles on personalities, etc.). Ended up searching more for fashion ideas for my costume to present to Valentina today than story ideas… But at one point, I noticed something on the backs of both mags was ripped off. On further inspection, I realized it was the recipient’s name and address. Of course I immediately got all paranoid thinking on no, I always leave my name and address on my New Yorkers, Time Outs, Brown Alumni Mags, and ABA Law Journals before tossing them into the bin. What if … And then I thought, what? What if what? It’s interesting that someone did not want people to know that they subscribed to W and Bergdorf. I guess I don’t care what people are going to think of me based on my subscriptions… So I read TONY (doesn’t everyone?) and the New Yorker (don’t a lot of people?), went to Brown (everyone went to school somewhere…), and am a lawyer (it’s not like I’m the only one in this city…). And then I realized I’ve always been weirdly oblivious to what other people think of me. Maybe it’s because my reunion’s coming up, but then I began remembering how when I first started at my high school, I didn’t know anyone since I’d just been transferred from another due to redistricting, and I’d found this great little bench that was perfectly situated in the middle of the three buildings that comprised our campus, and right next to the lockers. My mom would pack me lunch, and I’d sit there on the bench with my little sack and eat while watching everyone. I’m weird — and this is probably why I ended up in New York — but I was just fascinated with watching how people interacted with each other, or didn’t, who rushed frantically from class to class or stopped at their lockers between periods, who sauntered coolly either putting on a false air of bravado or who honestly didn’t care if they were late, how different people dressed and what their clothes said about them, who was picked on, who was ridiculed — either to his or her face or behind his or her back, how the ridiculee dealt with it, who looked nervous, who else was a loner, etc. etc. etc. I loved watching people basically. One day, a teacher rushed up to me, and, tugging on my sweater, cried out, “honey, honey, why in the world are you just sitting here? I always see you sitting here all — ALONE!” And when I looked up at her, confused, she actually had tears in her eyes. She was truly worried about me. It never occured to me that I wasn’t invisible, or maybe not invisible, but just that people didn’t really think about what I was doing enough to be bothered by it or question it. Not long after that, I was reunited with a friend, Kelly, whom I’d known years earlier from elementary school. She was completely different now. She was now a normal 13-year-old girl obsessed with popularity and fitting in. She explained to me what popularity was (because I honestly hadn’t known), whom I should want to be friends with and kiss up to (even though I found their personalities repugnant), and what items of clothing and by what designers I absolutely must have (even if those clothes didn’t particularly appeal to me). High school ended up being the worst four years of my life. And I honestly wonder what my experience would have been like had I not sought out a friendship with Kelly, after that teacher freaked out over my supposed loneliness.

Anyway, I’m blabbering…

A couple of internet thingys I wanted to point out: first, this way cool blog — this woman is a total riot and I cannot stop laughing at the hilarious way she expresses herself, but her rants are also very thought-provoking and her blogroll educational. I serendipitously found her blog, oddly, after my orthopedist mentioned something about Maxalt, my headache med, being taken off the market for health reasons (after searching every nook and cranny of the internet, I’m now sure he meant Methanone). But she’d once blogged on the drug, so it popped into my search. And, after reading her recent entry on names and thus being prompted to think about the inherent racism of John Stossel’s recent 20/20 segment arguing that parents should be careful not to give their children odd (read: Black) names, lest they have a harder time in society, and then performing more internet searches, I eventually came upon this very interesting test, conducted by Harvard University. Take it! Take it! Everyone take it! It’s really interesting and makes you aware of how you think!

September 18, 2006

Small Presses, Small Celebrities, and Smaller (But Prettier) Lifts

We changed my ending lift, we changed it, we changed it!!! So excited because Luis gave me a far easier, and I think actually prettier, lift to do at the end of our routine. When I say easier, I mean, HE does all the work 🙂 Now, instead of doing the crazy waltzy one with my butt sticking straight out over his head and at the audience (here’s a pic), he holds me up, my face to the ceiling instead of down at the floor, and I arch my back over him, balancing the small of my back on his shoulder. Then, if I can do it, I’ll flip my body over and end up in a bird position on his other shoulder (balancing on his shoulder now with my stomach, and arching my back and legs up behind me). We did the first part of it and I did fine; we didn’t try the second part yet, I just watched him illustrate with one of the many ballet dancers in my studio. It’s really pretty, and I hope I can do it. I so wish I had a lifetime of ballet.. But if I can’t, the first part even alone is much nicer than the other lift. So nervous though — less than a month now…

Anyway, I had a great, and busy, weekend. Friday night I saw Marcelo! on the subway 🙂 It’s funny because usually I’m not even looking up at people, because: 1) I’m shy; and 2) on the subway I’m usually hysterically reading a response brief, or some other such work I’m hopelessly behind on. But when he got on the 1 train, there was only one other person on the car with me, and I’m always a little nervous when I’m nearly alone and a man boards — well, maybe not always, but I’m working on this nasty rape case so maybe it’s a little worse now… (ha ha, as if HE, with his s.o. would ever, …. harumph, in my dreams… I know, horrible bad sentiment, SHAME…) Anyway, when he boarded, he got on at one end of the car and walked to my end, obviously so he could exit near the subway exit, but it was initially a little weird. And of course when I saw his face, I had to do a double, then triple take. It’s funny how you can’t see a person’s face unless you look into their eyes — the face is obviously much more than just eyes, but the eyes are the person… So, there I was sitting there staring, which he noticed (me being the only other person in the car), and yet did not seem frightened enough by the crazy girl to stop in his tracks and turn around and go back. So, he stood right in front of me, waiting impatiently for the train to stop so he could get out. Is he always so impatient, I wonder? Well, HE’S SO CUTE! And small!! — or at least smaller than he looks onstage… I had to remind myself he’s not basketball-player tall, just tall for a dancer — but still. And I remembered it was the same with Slavik in Florida. Him, I’ve only seen on the screen, and he’s always looked so tall and regal, either when dancing with Karina in the World Champions Show I have on tape, or in Shall We Dance, where he plays JLo’s knight in shining armor at the end sweeping her off to Blackpool where he will lead her to victory… In real life, he was a kid, not so tall and with imperfect skin and a tattoo. Weird. But so great to have seen two of my favorites — from the worlds of Ballet and Ballroom respectively — in person in just the last week 🙂

On Saturday, Kathy and I went to the Brooklyn Book Festival in Brooklyn Heights. They had several panels and readings, mostly by Brooklyn authors (of which there are many, probably more than in any other borough), but what I got the most from was walking around to the bizillions of tables of small presses who are publishing these great authors. I had no idea Tin House, the literary mag, now has a press and is publishing books! As is Open City. I bought a Tin House book by an author named Karen Lee Boren, which was recommended by a writer I like (and fellow Brown alum:)), Sam Lipsyte, and bought a couple of books at an indie Brooklyn bookstore with a booth, Book Court, one an AMAZING collection of short stories, The First Hurt, by Rachel Sherman (also recommended by Lipsyte) which I began reading yesterday and cannot put down, as well as Edmund White’s A Boy’s Own Story, which I have always wanted to read. Poets and Writers mag was giving out free copies of their latest issue, and I realized I’m a complete ass for not having subscribed to it before, it has so much valuable info. And, speaking of Marcelo!, I bought from this international press called Host Books a collection of three contemporary Brazilian plays that are written both in English and Portuguese. So, when I begin my Portuguese classes (in preparation for Brazil Carnival trip!) maybe it will come in handy…

Yesterday, I walked outside my apartment only to see a street fair (!), which of course I had to raid and spend way too much money at… And I finally got around to walking down to Lee’s Art Shop to get framed a print I bought in Martha’s Vineyard three weeks ago now. Why do frames always cost like four times the price of the artwork inside them???? Then, I spent many many hours doing a re-write of the beginning pages of my novel for a possible reading of it — had to whittle them down to their bare essentials to make them the right reading-length, and now I’m thinking they’re so much better. Sometimes I think you need to do that: wait a long time, like many months, before going back over what you have, when you have a clearer, fresher perspective on it.

And, I had to get up early today for an appointment with my orthopedist before work. This time, it’s the left knee. More meniscus problems. Ugh. Have to go for yet more physical therapy. Does it ever end???

Anyway, I’m tired…

July 18, 2006

HOT HOT HOT!

I really thought there was going to be another blackout today in NY. I got on the 3 train about 9:25 a.m. just to stand, gripping the pole, and stand, and stand, and stand, before being told there was a loss of power and thus no local or express trains running on the 7th Ave. line. This news resulted in a mass exodus to the 8th Ave. line where several thousand profusely sweating, hysterically rushing, immensely frustrated people tried to pile into the first car of a C train, just so the train could sit and sit and sit in the station. About 15 minutes later, we were told there was a medical emergency and the train would be held indefinitely. I jumped out, landed a seat on a platform bench, and, deciding to screw being worried over being late to work, pulled out my Chris Anderson book — about which I will say more in a sec. When I finally boarded the next C train nearly an hour later, I honestly wondered if I should get right back off of it, thinking on such a hot day with one power-outage already underway, I may well find myself walking the 8 or so miles from the financial district to my apartment later today, which I did three years ago in brand new, un-broken-in shoes — not very pleasant. I had comfortable shoes on today, but have noticed the past few days a pain now in my left knee, in the exact location where I’d felt pain on my right knee when I was diagnosed with a meniscus tear. I haven’t been dancing a lot the past few weeks and after beginning to sense a jello-y presence accumulating on my lower butt, started myself on a regimen of demi and grand plies, days before I noticed the pain. Can I please bend my knee without injuring myself, for crying out loud!?!? Anyway, it wasn’t nearly so hot three years ago either. Today, it almost hit the 100 degree mark — was probably over that with the humidity. By the time I got to work, two hours after I began my normally 40 minute commute, I was dripping with sweat, and, being from Phoenix, where it’s often at least 110 degrees in the summer, I really don’t sweat on the east coast. I can’t imagine how hot a normal person must have been. If there would’ve been another blackout, there may well have been several heat strokes. We really really really have to do something, as a society, about global warming…

Anyway, I am horribly sad that the ABT has now ended its summer Met season, and am suffering from ridiculously serious separation anxiety. Therefore, I have posted on the photo page some of my favorite curtain-call moments featuring their incredible, world-class cast (because, with a company populated by such “characters,” rarely does the fall of the curtain signal the end of the show:):):). In particular, I find that I’ve developed a stupid little bad crush on baby principal David Hallberg. He’s such a little cutie — in addition to being a charming dancer with a very mature for his age, very regal stage presence, his entries in Kristin Sloan’s brilliant and ADDICTIVE blog, The Winger, are so well thought-out, and he’s quite sophisticated and cerebral, especially for a 24-year-old. Funny, since I’m first and foremost a writer and reader, I tend to develop crushes on dancers not through their dancing but either their books, or their interviews in magazines and books (e.g. Marcelo!) or, now, in their blog posts 🙂 I also think part of my ABT-detachment issues are stemming from the fact that now I really have to focus on my own dancing since I no longer have my favorites to watch and since my showcase is coming up in just a few months!!! Needless to say, it’s a lot easier to watch someone else perform (especially if that someone is the best in the world…) than deal with my own dance problems!

While not dancing a lot lately, I’ve started reading this book called The Long Tail. Normally, I don’t read a lot of non-fiction but Kristin (see how addicted I am???) posted about attending author Chris Anderson’s book signing party and when I read her link to his intriguingly original book-in-progress blog, then that same day received an email from Borders offering me, as a rewards member, a 30% discount on that very book, have had my nose in it for the past several nights now. His thesis is that the internet has fundamentally changed the laws of supply and demand so that instead of only a few big commercial, mainstream “hits” reaching and thus dominating the public mind, consumers are discovering smaller, alternative “niche” products. Online stores like Amazon and Netflix are realizing that while each “niche” product in and of itself doesn’t sell as well as one “hit,” taken together the “niche” products consistitute a market far greater than the “hit” market — a market the online stores, without the overhead costs of actual stores, are exploiting. This is great news for first-time or avant-garde book authors or filmmakers whose sales potential publishers and production companies find risky because, with online companies selling more non-mainstream products, we actually have a fighting chance of our good actually making it to the consumer:) But I wonder what it means for dance. Online advertising (e.g. Google) has opened up to smaller niche advertisers in the same way as online stores, Anderson argues. So alternative choreographers and small dance companies can better sell themeselves to the public. But dancers make relatively low salaries for the same reason stage actors do, and while a live performance (of which there is no equal of course) costs many many times what a taped one does and a tape has the potential, with the internet, of taking in many times that of a live show, I wonder if DVD is the future of dance. While nothing beats a live performance, I have many dance videos that I treasure and watch over and over again. While Nureyev directed filmed versions of himself and his company dancing, he proclaimed that he was a much better stage performer, as are many of today’s great performers with through-the-roof charisma, like Angel Corella. But, being too young to have ever seen him perform, those taped versions of Nureyev are the only way I “know” him, and, from viewing those tapes, he has become my favorite ever dancer. So, is it so bad if lots of people have access to dance solely on tape? Hmmm, it’s interesting to ponder. I have to finish the book though!

Very excited because I sent off for my Blackpool seat tickets today! True, the dance festival doesn’t happen until end of May 2007, but the cut-off deadline for seat ticket orders (standing room only tickets are available until about a couple of weeks before the event) must reach their England office by July 28th. So, if you think you’re gonna go, and you want to be guaranteed a seat, go to their website, download an order form, and fax or fed-ex it right away!

June 27, 2006

Dead Weight, Lightweight, and Boxing, Bullfighting Ballroom Dancers

“Dead weight. Dead weight. Dead weeiighttt,” Pasha kept moaning while shaking his head all throughout my lesson last week. Ugh. Could I feel fatter? I guess when we do this far-more-complicated-than-it-looks lift / dip / spin thingy that I stole from my favorite Latin diva, Karina Smirnoff, I’m supposed to hold myself up by pushing my pelvis as far into Pasha’s groin as possible. Otherwise, I’m “Dead Weighttt” ie: too much for him to hold up. It just feels weird and, like, violative of boundaries dare I say, since I’m crushing my bony crotch as far as possible into his. I guess real dancers get over the boundary thing fast. But I still don’t completely understand when guys tell me to hold myself up. I know I have to strengthen my body during a lift and hold my position as much as I can, so I’m not dragging him down, but how much can you hold yourself up while suspended in mid air? And what about during a dip when you’re supposed to be “dipping” at least part of your body downward?

Then, while choreographing a rag doll into our routine (I couldn’t find a good link to this, but it’s the trick all the dancers are doing in the party scene at the beginning of “Dirty Dancing” that so seduces Jennifer Grey), Luis kept telling me to put my body weight completely into his hands so he could control me, and the trick, better. I kept trying but I couldn’t seem to do what he wanted, and he kept saying he knew I wasn’t as lightweight as I felt and that I must not be trusting him with my whole weight. Ugh! I totally don’t get it — am I too heavy and not working hard enough to hold my own, or am I not heavy enough indicating distrust?? Are all male partners just different or am I nuts??!

Anyway, speaking of Luis, tomorrow night, he and Anya will be teaching the salsa lesson at Midsummer Night Swing! Be there!

And, this weekend is the super mad fun Manhattan Dancesport Championships at the Marriott in Brooklyn Heights. This is the most prestigious dancesport competition in the mid-Atlantic region and all of the top U.S. couples compete at it (so, look for Andrei Gavriline and Elena Kruyschkova in Latin, and Jonathan Wilkins and Katusha Demidova in Standard). The event begins Thursday with pro/am competitions (when students compete with their teachers), and continues through Sunday evening. Saturday and Sunday nights will be the most fun to watch since they are the professional comps. Saturday is pro Latin (dancers compete in: cha cha, samba, rhumba, paso doble, and jive), and will be followed by an exhibition by the lovely and amazing Sharon Savoy (who, with her old partner, David Savoy, has performed at the Olympics and was a driving force behind making Dancesport an official Olympic sport). Sunday night are the comps in pro American Rhythm (American-style cha cha and rhumba, bolero, swing, and mambo) and Standard (waltz, foxtrot, viennese waltz, tango, and quickstep), and is to be followed by a cabaret show choreographed by Las Vegas choreographer Wendy Johnson, who I’m told really knows how to create a spectacle. These competitions are all a lot of fun and this is one of the best: the crowd can get so raucous rooting for their favorites, the dance floor can start to resemble a boxing match (except the ‘boxers’ are wearing beautiful ballgowns and lovely smiles:)). I will be excited to see the Latin because, ever since Blackpool, I can’t seem to get the paso doble music out of my mind — it’s so dramatic! And you don’t exactly hear it often on the radio… This comp is a perfect way for people to be introduced to the world of Dancesport. It’s a bit pricey — evening tkts are $50, but it’s worth it because the fun lasts for at least six hours (far longer than a Broadway show!) and it’s for a good cause — the dancers’ awards; and ballroom dancers don’t make a lot of money, so they need those prizes…

Lastly, watching Julio Thursday night at the ABT was unforgetable. He will be missed,to make a massive understatement. My pictures are up. I was in the nosebleed section but you can still see the basic action. Enjoy!

June 21, 2006

"Love is . . . when someone is doing something great and you want to let out your feelings"

The above is a quote from Sarah, a second-grader at Juan Pablo Duarte Elementary School in Washington Heights. It was included with a list of other quotes by her fellow students describing what love is to them in the absolutely COOLEST wedding invitation I have ever received. A good friend from writing class, Melinda, the best yet-to-be-published novelist I know, is getting married and her invitation consisted of a series of coaster-sized squares each containing different wedding info such as how she and Paulo met, maps of the venue, reasons why they chose to have a pirate-themed wedding (which I found unbelievably interesting), thought behind the unique design of their rings, and on one square is this very sweet list of quotes from 2nd graders in the school where Melinda recently taught, defining love. Whilst getting her MFA at the New School, Melinda taught for this amazing program called The Community Word Project, a non-profit organization akin to Pierre Dulaine‘s American Ballroom Theater (featured in films Take the Lead and Mad Hot Ballroom), but which teaches children in low-income NYC schools to express and explore themselves and relate to each other not through dance but poetry. Click here for a great article about her class in El Diario newspaper that she translated into English.

Anyway, that quote stood out to me when I read it last night because: 1) as a perpetually single amateur dancer and massive dance fan I sometimes think of such terms in the sense of seeing a brilliant performance that makes me want to cry; and 2) in particular, tomorrow night is going to be long-time principal dancer Julio Bocca‘s last performance with the company that has been his home for 20 years, ABT. At only 39, Bocca, who began dance lessons about the same time he learned to walk, became a principal (to non-balletomanes, that means absolute highest level-status attainable) with the most prestigious company in the world (okay, arguably :)) while a mere teenager. Thus, a man, not even 40, who’s devoted his entire life to this art, is retired as of this Friday. He’s explained in the many many interviews he’s given over the past couple months that he’s tired, wants to relax, sail in the ocean, see things, stay up late, eat, drink, not have a nervous breakdown after a vacation trying to shape up for the upcoming season, live like a normal person. He even told Playbill he’s envious of the people he sees sitting outside at Lincoln Center plaza soaking up sun and drinking wine in the afternoon… which I find amusing since I’m one such lazy-ass he’s ‘envious’ of! But it makes you realize just how hard of a life a dancer lives and how much they give up for their way-too-short careers. Even for me, when the orthopedist insists I take a little break, I’m initially upset then before long realize how nice it is to have wine every night with dinner, catch up on movies, books, and friends’ lives over five-course and several-hour-long meals eating whatever I please (beany bloating Mexican food, salty dehydrating Greek caviar spread and anchovies, etc. etc.). I can’t imagine what not only a professional, but one of the greatest in the world must have given up to devote himself so wholly to this life that he’s achieved the status he has. My sedentary appellate law job is cheesecake in comparison… But like most retiring dancers, he’s hardly leaving dance. He plans to perform one more year with his company in Argentina (which performs, in addition to ballet, tango, and what is one of the most beautiful of all dance forms — balletic tango), then presumably will choreograph and serve as its artistic director. And there’s even speculation he may one day lead the ABT. So, sad as his multitude of fans are — and I’m sure there will be a cacophany of sobs tomorrow night in the Met — it’s not like we won’t be seeing his work, in other forms, again and again. Choreographer and artistic director seem like the consummate post-dance-career careers — he can use his mass of creative skills he’s accumulated throughout the years without now sacrificing wine and food and sun and sailing and all that other good stuff life has to offer. So, there, it is a celebration, though a damn sad one.

Back to the Juan Pablo Duarte second-graders’ Word Community Project for a few more truly wonderful little quotes about love:

“Love is like you are in the park, happy with the sun and with yourself.” Madeline

“Love is giving something to each person and love is when you love the person but not like a boyfriend because that’s nasty, yo.” Leslie

“Love is me in ballet with a little pink tutu on and my hair picked up with bobby pins.” Kayla

“Love is me and my brother holding hands, looking at the bright blue sky with a shooting star.” Luismil

“El amor es muy caliente como la luz del cielo, y los corazones se despiertan a la luz del mar” (“Love is hot like the sky’s light, and hearts wake up in the light of the sea” — damn, I cannot write like this at my age; she is 7). Arlene

“Love is me and the Community Word Project practicing our poem with volume, rhythm, and gesture.” Ashley

And my personal favorite:

“Love is being with cute boys and presents and candy hearts and mostly chocolate. Love is riding a bike down the hill and you crash into a cute boy who likes you and cares about you and doesn’t want you to get hurt.” Kiyana

June 16, 2006

World Premier Ballet, Affordable Art, and Braassill!!!…

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Fun NY weekend ahead! Tonight is a world premier ballet at the New York City Ballet (the last premier of this season’s Diamond Project of new ballets by contemporary choreographers). (I’m going to have SO much more free time when the NYCB and ABT seasons are both over in mid-July…)

Tomorrow is The Affordable Art Fair in Chelsea, which I’ve never been to, but looks exciting. Art priced between $100 and $5000 is being sold and there are going to be lectures on how poor people (like me!) can start their collections. My favorite gallery, DFN Gallery, is going to have a booth, and, according to their email, is going to be selling work by one of my favorites who regularly exhibits there, Dan Witz. I see Witz as someone who kind of turns Thomas Kincade (the “artist of light” with his cheesy nostalgia for quaint cottages, horse-drawn carriages and tourist landmarks) on his head. Witz uses light in his paintings (which are amazingly photo-like) to evoke shelter and community in urban settings. In one of my favorites of his, the light radiates out from the inside of a Brooklyn bodega on an otherwise desolate streetcorner late at night, signifying that inside is a place of warmth, safety, familiarity, and community. I have no idea how much any of his work is going for, but I took a post-card sized copy of that painting on the back of the press release from the gallery, framed it, and hung it in my apartment. So, thus far that is my idea of affordable art — extremely affordable seeing as how it’s free!

And Sunday, Father’s Day though it is, I’ve managed to get some friends together to go to a Brazilian restaurant to watch the game. Not exactly the Brazilian place I had in mind — which was in Astoria, where I used to live, and I figured out of the way enough that it would only attract locals and not tourists — but some of my friends are coming from Brooklyn, so it’s too much to ask them to go all the way up to Queens. So, we’re going to one of the Sushi Samba places in the Flatiron District. I know absolutely nothing of soccer, but because studying dance made me fall so in love with Samba, I’ve became intrigued by all things Brazilian. So, me and my crazy friends who humor me, are going to root for Brazil! Since I know nothing about the game, I figured I’d go buy that new book The Thinking Fan’s Guide. It was not very well received in Time Out New York, but that reviewer did give a thumbs up to the guy who wrote the piece on Brazil, as well as to Nick Hornby, my favorite author of lad lit, bloke lit, whatever they call it in England (actually, it’s really chick lit since it garners almost an all-female audience…). Hopefully by Sunday I’ll have some clue as to what I’m seeing…

June 14, 2006

If It Takes Five Minutes to Make A Sexy Pose…

it’s not dancing, it’s modeling! Luis discarded all of the choreography he’d done so far, which was fine since I was having a ridiculously hard time remembering the small between-tricks steps, and decided to construct a series of sexy poses that I’m to hit on each of three beats at the start of the song (btw, don’t ever dance to Gloria Estefan — it sounds fun until you start actually to try to keep the beat and then realize how flipping fast it is!). We ended up spending most of the lesson on this since I was having such difficulty striking the perfect pose (especially on the exact beat), and he was being a perfectionist rearranging my hair (and teaching me how to flip it so it’d land just so), pulling back on my shoulders and pushing my chest out (don’t think I’ll ever stop having posture problems), adjusting pelvis, hips, arms, wrists, fingers, knees, toes, etc. etc. etc. ETC. to put me in the perfect state of sexiness (I LOVE working with a gay man!!). So, now I think I have the poses right, but it takes so long for me to strike it perfectly when I’m trying to move at lightning speed, and then it’s so hard to make sure I get the right connection with him so I don’t lose my balance and make him throw his back out catching me. We didn’t work on the overhead lifts since he was sore from moving over the weekend, but I think I am ready when he is. I think. I am trusting him more — we worked on this one trick where I fall forward (holding his hands of course) and before I hit the ground, he whips me up and turns me over and I slide up in a body roll. I know he’s strong and I’m not going to fall, but it’s one thing to know that in your brain and another to tell it to your body in the midst of the trick…

My former West Coast Swing partner, Mark, informed me that everyone in the WCS (how the dance is abbreviated in the “industry”) community is very excited about Benji Schwimmer making it to the finals on So You Think You Can Dance with his partner Heidi, who teaches at one of Mark’s studios. He said the judges seemed a bit confused about what exactly WCS was, but were very impressed, especially with Heidi. I saw a repeat of the show and remember seeing her in Blackpool do a demonstration on WCS versus Jive. She is truly an awesome dancer! I don’t watch a lot of TV because I am usually at either some studio or opera house at night (and tonight is Vladimir night at the Met!!!), but my WCS friends must definitely keep me posted on this! WCS officially on the dance map, yay!

I went to the New York City Ballet last night to see one of the new ballets they are putting on as part of their spring season’s Diamond Project, where they show brand new ballets by contemporary choreographers — one of the reasons I like that company — they perform a combination of classics and contemporary work, so you get a mix. This one was by a Russian choreographer, Alexi Ratmansky, called The Russian Seasons, and was very interesting — dramatic and humorous by turns, with plain but gorgeously-flowing costumes. I’ve seen all of the new ones except for two, and my favorite has been Evenfall, sweetly Swan Lake-like, by their resident choreographer, Christopher Wheeldon, who I think is a genius and have liked practically everything I’ve seen him do.

And, Lincoln Center is now gearing up for Midsummer Night’s Swing outside in the plaza! Luis and his partner, Anya, will be performing and teaching salsa on June 28th!

June 11, 2006

What Is the Point of Building a World Trade Center Memorial…

if it, along with all of lower Manhattan, San Francisco, and about three-quarters of Florida in this country alone, are soon going to be underwater, if Greenland and western Antartica continue to melt at their current rate? A favorite dance blogger of mine first recommended this film, then a fellow alum, director Davis Guggenheim, sent around a heartfelt email discussing his motivations for making it, and I just had to go. I had no idea how urgent the threat of global warming was until I saw An Inconvenient Truth this weekend. Al Gore presents the issue in a very clear way with lots of pictorials and graphics, and even a little humor, to make it interesting. Everyone should see it regardless of political affiliation. So compelling — really, terrorism is far from the only thing we have to fear…

I just finished transferring to video the tape I made on my camcorder last Monday of Luis and me dancing the choreography he’s done so far for our routine. Video recorders are an absolute must-have for dance students wishing to perform. Professional dancers can easily remember their choreography, but for a beginner, there is no other way to memorize than to videotape it. I tried writing it all down with my first teacher, Kelvin, and, when I showed him my notebook, he burst out laughing, “these are damn lawyer notes; I have no idea what they mean!” I had no dance vocabulary and just described in excruciating, and hence meaningless, detail every single movement. So found out the hard way writing is absolutely no use to a dancer, who is by trade visually- not verbally-oriented. A camcorder is the only way to go. And even at that it’s so hard for me to memorize. I wish so much I’d never quit dance as a child!!!!!

I normally don’t see the same ballet twice during the same season, but Friday I saw ABT‘s Cinderella again to see David Hallberg dance the role of Prince Charming, so I could compare him to his dressing-room roommate, Marcelo! (whose name I must follow with an !) My favorites are Jose, Alessandra, and Marcelo!, and I normally try to get tickets when one of them is performing, but David‘s contributions to my favorite dancer blog made me interested in seeing him too. And I’m very glad I did: he made a very dashing prince — and it’s interesting to see two different dancers interpret the same role. David‘s slightly smaller so kind of gets around the stage more quickly and does really amazing jumps, and his lifts with Gillian looked completely effortless. But Marcelo! is so big and it’s so romantic to see him envelope little Julie in his arms… And he has such a wonderful appreciation for women (as he expresses in many a good interview) — it really shows in his beautiful partnering 🙂
Tony’s are on, gotta go…

May 21, 2006

Can it Be — Evil Latin Stilettos May Not Be All Bad?

I had an oral argument in court on Friday morning and was running late, so I just pulled out from my closet the top-most box of shoes that resembled pumps. (I keep all of my shoes in boxes on my closet floor — a trick taught to me by my first real, born ‘n bred New Yorker friend as the best way to maximize closet space). Anyway, I haven’t been to court in a while and these turned out not to be my usual chunk-heeled Kenneth Coles, but a pair of three-inch stick-heeled Banana Republic pumps I bought in SoHo last year only because they were on extreme sale and I needed brown. Afraid as I was of embarrasing myself by wobbling, if not actually falling, in the courtroom on my way to the podium, I didn’t have time to dig more sensible shoes out from the pyramid, so I popped them on and fled. Amazingly, running to the subway I felt my posture actually improving — slight turn-out of hips elongating leg (in Latin turn-out is 45 not 8000 degrees!), shoulders down and back, abdominals tucked in and up — I didn’t feel the least unsteady. Once ensconsed on the subway seat, I thought about my newfound balance and figured it must be the evil latin shoes. Not only has trying so hard to dance in them apparently made me able to walk in the average stiletto, but a simple reminder of dance seems automatically to improve posture!

Funnily, I think I am begining to have a thing with Jonathan Roberts (previous entry) — while sitting in the courtroom waiting for my case to be called, I noticed that one of the appellate District Attorneys (our adversaries) looks just like him! Grrr…

Speaking of Ballroom, I took the first steps toward packing for Blackpool this weekend by digging my passport out of my “important papers” drawer. Actually, I took more than that; in an effort to avoid being lectured ad nauseam by my mom, who is a Planner (ie: literally packs weeks before a trip and is always nagging me, exactly the opposite and thus always having a nervous breakdown the night before), and took out a suitcase and started tossing in things I knew I’d need. Wrong. I have a ticket to the American Ballet Theater’s opening night gala tomorrow night and am sitting in nosebleed section, so just went to retrieve my opera glasses to put in my handbag. I looked and looked and looked; they were nowhere. I panicked — they were $80, I must have left them at the New York City Ballet on Friday night I thought, should I call the State Theater, no they only have a matinee on Sunday and must be closed and anyway someone probably just kept them… I frantically searched some more before finally realizing they were in my suitcase. Okay, no more “planning” — I’ll be waiting til Wednesday night, thank you very much!

March 7, 2006

Be Careful Whom You're Rude to in New York, Or, Do Not Try to Pick Up a Woman Engrossed in Marcelo Gomes's Butt

During intermission at the New York City Ballet a few nights ago, I was browsing through their gift shop and spotted this large colorful book filled with juicy photos and bios of several ABT and NYCB dancers. Looked enticing, especially for a huge ballet fan. But it was expensive, and with all the money I spend on Ballroom, Iâ€™m forced to be a total cheapskate in all of my other leisure spending. So, I figured the next time I had nothing to do, I’d go to Barnes & Noble, camp out on the floor and flip through it.

When my plans for Saturday night were cancelled, thatâ€™s just what I did. Whilst sitting cross-legged on the floor (since of course thereâ€™s never a free CafÃ© chair) contemplating a glossy photo of Marcelo Gomesâ€™s naked backside, I heard this voice above me say, “what ya readin’?” I looked up at the guy to see if he was someone I might know from dance (since I see people from my studio from time to time in the dance section), but he wasn’t; he was this weirdly nerdy guy with a cowlick at his crown and horrible posture. I said it was a book about ballet and he barked, “Ballet? Why?” making me feel defensive. I wasn’t interested in talking to him, so I just kind of hunched further down into the book. He continued looking at me for several seconds, then picked up a music score and plopped down next to me. But I could see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye and felt a bit uncomfortable, especially given the story of poor Imette St. Gillen. You really canâ€™t be too careful right now, you know.

I bent my head down deeply into the mesh screen covering Marcelo, only to sense now another guy on my opposite side, peering down at me. “How do you like that book?,” this one said. Okay, has B&N become the new pickup scene? Or is it just the dance section, because I never get this kind of attention in fiction… I shrugged and mumbled, â€œDunno, I just picked it up,” poking my head further into the protective haven that Marceloâ€™s butt was becoming. But this one chuckled and said, â€œWell, it’s my book, that’s why I was asking, just wanted to know what you thought.” I looked up at him, not knowing whether to take him for real, and he laughed, seeming to pick up my vibe, then was gone. I flipped to the bookâ€™s credits page with pictures of the contributors â€“ a dance critic, the photographer Roy Round, and the publisher who put it all together â€“ and sure enough, he was the latter. Guess he was checking out the stock. His bio looked interesting — he’s actually a lawyer with a keen interest in dance and publishing — hmmm, sounds familiar. He was much older, but he would have been interesting to talk to. Damn, missed my chance. Guess it pays to look and think before making yourself unapproachable — you never know whom youâ€™re going to meet in New York! While exercising due caution, of course.