Tag: Performing Dance

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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!

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Cadbury-Induced Tummy Pudge

After my two lessons this week I now realize how horrendously out of practice I am. Two weeks away from the studio for a beginning dancer is a serious recipe for failure. Before doing any lifts, I warned Pasha that all the Cadbury bars and black pudding I’d consumed in Blackpool had put serious pounds on me and when he frowned I pointed to my stomach, which has now developed a round little mass of pudge. Pasha is Russian (obviously) and thus given to brutal honesty, and he basically responded, oh that, that’s always been there… yes, everything is the same. Argh! I knew I didn’t have a completely flat stomach, but didn’t know it was that obvious… am beginning to think your dance partner knows your body better than anyone, including boyfriend… I also told Pasha about my toe, he asked if it was serious, I said no, just another stupid injury requiring yet more ice and Advil, and he shrugged his shoulders and said, we all live in pain; if it’s not falling off or cancer, you ignore it. Okay, am slowly learning the dancer way of life…

I’m really nervous about the upcoming performance though, because I seem to have forgotten: where my center is, how to spot, how to move my hips properly (without disconnecting them from my upper back and jutting them out too much) , can’t do a simple spin without wobbling all over myself . . . everything. And, I need to cancel my lesson next Wednesday with the immensely popular and hence impossible to re-book Pasha because I must go to ABT. Vladimir Malakhov is performing for practically the only time this season, and as I think he’s one of the two greatest male dancers in the world right now (the other being Jose Carreno, who is performing a splendid many times with ABT!), I must not miss it. I’ll just have to kill myself with ballet classes until October because, though it’s not Latin, ballet is ESSENTIAL to training in any kind of dance.

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So Afraid to Go Over the Guy's Head!

Very happy that Pasha is now back in the studio after spending the last three weeks traveling around the country with his students doing Pro/Am competitions. So, we discussed how to not look like a spaghetti by: exerting more control over my body; finding my center and keeping it solid; being grounded (instead of thinking about dancing as akin to flying — it only looks that way and humans really can’t fly); thinking about the lines I’m trying to create; and deciding the character of the piece — ie: I am a girl in love, not a swan, so no flapping arm-wings… He also made me feel much better about not being able to developee my leg all the way up near my head yet, telling me it’s one of the hardest things to do in ballet because it requires great strength and control, and not just flexibility, like it looks.

On the other hand, Luis showed me this crazy overhead lift he wants me to do with him that looks similar to the Bird from Dirty Dancing, but is supposedly easier since I’m pressing down on his shoulders from above and he’s supporting my hips. We tried it but I’m just so scared to go over his head! So, I only went halfway up. He assured me he was strong and told me he wouldn’t do anything with me that he didn’t know I could do and the only thing holding me back was my fear. How do female dancers get rid of those fears?!!! He also wants me to do this cartwheel over his head and land in this Firebird-looking position on his back. Yikes — I’ve been dancing barely two years now and have no gymnastics background! So, anyway, my task over the next week and a half while I’m out of the studio and in Blackpool is to try hard to overcome my fears.

I want to try one of those hand-free fishes, where the girl is in a fish dive and the guy lets go and she holds onto him with her leg wrapped around his back — don’t know exactly what they’re called. No one seems to know what I’m talking about and the way I describe it, they say it sounds physically impossible, which it probably is for me now… But it can’t possibly be as hard as flying over the guy’s head! I’ll have to bring to the studio the picture of Marcelo Gomes and Gillian Murphy doing it in The Ballet Book.

Speaking of which, Monday night is ABT’s opening gala! And next Friday begins Blackpool!! So many exciting things…

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Stand Over Me, Spread Your Legs, and Squat

With directions like this I know I am not in ballet-class anymore…

I have put my frustrations at seeing myself on video aside and am now hard at work on my next showcase, set for October. Am doing another Rhumba with Pasha (similar routine, hopefully A LOT more polished this time). And, I’ve decided to do a Salsa with another teacher, Luis, as well. Actually, since I’ve chosen “Oye” by Gloria Estefan as my music (which, having no sense of rhythm, I didn’t realize was way too fast for salsa — we tried but looked a bit like gerbils), so we’re doing a Latin combo and putting everything into the mix — cha cha, merengue, samba, salsa/mambo (for slower parts), and even paso — which I think is going to be a lot of fun. I think. Luis is all excited — says he’s going to show people a different side of me, that I really can let loose.

Oh.
He’s already having me practice these huge hair flips and crazy body rolls that begin up at the shoulders and quickly inch their way down the torso to end in a kind of Samba-y butt-sticking-way-out squat (apparently he doesn’t think my lack of butt will hinder my ability to perform this). And the trick that’s mentioned in the title above is actually a lot more enticing than it sounds. I stand, back arched over him while he does this sexy Latin lunge. I have to splay my legs, because it they’re daintily together, I’ll never maintain my balance. Thing is — you have to love male dancer / choreographers: — I can barely do this without losing balance in flat jazz shoes; he apparently thinks I’m going to be able to do it as well it in the insane 3-inch Latin stilettos the evil powers that be who originated ladies Latin shoes force us to wear.

Well, I am game… nothing can be worse than last time!!

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Take That Back, Performance WAS Heinous!

DVDs from the school of the March performance just came out and I saw myself dance. Ewwwwwwwwww! I look like a spaghetti. Seriously. My arms are flapping madly about; I look like I have no skeleton whatsoever. And I was so scared, I had this look on my face like I’d just received shock therapy and my shoulders were hunched straight up to my ears throughout the entire three minutes. And I looked truly horrified whenever I looked out into the audience – -and blinded; now I do remember the lights being so bright, I got really distracted looking out. I’m never ever ever looking at the audience again; if Pasha makes me face front, I’ll still crock my head and focus my gaze on him — I am dancing with him after all. And in our little Romeo and Juliet pose I look like I’m casting a spell on him not looking down adoringly.
A co-worker friend wanted to see the tape, since he couldn’t make the performance (thankfully), but no way is anyone seeing this. I agreed to show him the the still pictures, which somehow didn’t turn out quite as horrid. But when he saw the carryoff lift I told him I took from the Lavery R&J, he said, “Oh yeah, this is after you’re dead, right.”

“No,” I said. “Romeo predeceases Juliet. She takes drugs at one point and he does a quite beautiful dance with her looking like a rag doll, but this isn’t that scene. This is from the balcony scene and I’m being swept off my feet. Are you sure it doesn’t look like I’m being swept off my feet?”

He scrutinized the picture again. “Nah, you look dead.”

Ugh!

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Performance Was Not Heinous!

Yes – I did it. I performed in front of three people and I didn’t fall! No, seriously, there were more than three people there and I did lose my balance a bit at the beginning, on a completely easy step, though I didn’t fall. I think it was because of the lights – they were so bright. It always looks like performers are looking at you – how do they do that? Even though we had a dress rehearsal with the lights, I was still a bit disoriented, and I lost my footing on a step that required me to face toward the audience, rather than Pasha. Thankfully, he was holding on to me. And it was at the beginning, before all of our lifts and tricks, so hopefully people didn’t remember 🙂 After that, I just tried to focus on Pasha, even when I was to face front. Everything went okay; it wasn’t my best run-through of the routine, but wasn’t my worst. And I think my nerves about performing were overtaken with nerves about the dress working out. But very very cool thing: because the studio co-owner felt badly for me because of my costume fiasco, she ended up letting me wear one of her old costumes. So, I got to wear a dress formerly worn by the 1995 national Latin champion! Sweet end to a screwed-up ordeal!

Oh, and I realized the coach was right when he reminded me that the audience is largely comprised of regular people, not professional dancers. We got applause for all of our lifts – even the ones where I couldn’t hoist myself up as far as I wanted to or forgot to point my toe or didn’t get my back leg into a perfect attitude position – basically had a problem with each one, but still cheers… And, we got applause for my dip / spin / lift thingy that I worked so hard to do properly and wanted in the routine so badly – well, dancer Karina Smirnoff’s dip / spin / lift thingy. And many many many thanks to Pasha for letting me practice it over and over, seeing as how it’s hard not to knee the guy on your way toward him and into the trick. Anyway, this whole thing taught me that maybe I have a choreographic sense of what audiences like – even if said audience is just being nice to the dancer me by applauding my screw-ups. I wanna be a choreographer now! Although since I wasn’t a real dancer first, maybe that wouldn’t work too well… I’d be asking dancers to do things that were physically impossible or something…

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I May Be a Latin Dancer But I am Not a D Cup!!!

Yikes. My showcase is in two days and my dressmaker is just now making the dress. I had wanted a ballet-style dress, much in the style of the gown Alessandra wears in the balcony pas de deux in Romeo and Juliet. But the fabric she chose, while beautiful, does not seem to be conducive to that style – or else she’s not sure exactly how to make it, being a Latin dressmaker. But the weirdest thing is that she seems to want to put these humongous bra cups into it. I told her they were too big – I’m a petite person and a definite B cup and I’ll look like Pamela Anderson. But she insisted they are Latin cups, and are what are used in Latin. The Pamela Anderson look might work if the dancer was staying on the ground and remaining upright, but I’m doing theater arts stuff – I’m going to go shooting right out of that bra during my fish dive. A guy who saw her fitting me said, “Don’t worry, the guys will love it.” Yeah, right. But seriously, she would not put a smaller cup into the bra, said she didn’t have any, this was the smallest a Latin cup came. Then, she said, “And besides, Latin women are proud of their bodies.” What? I’m not not proud – I’m just not a D. She finally said if I found other cups she’d be amenable.

So, next day at work, I called the ballroom dress store LeNique. An Australian guy answered. Embarrassed, I asked him if they sold bra cups. He said no, they had their own supply for their own dresses but didn’t sell them individually, although he thought some place in the Garment District did. I asked him if he knew where that place was, and he began thumbing through a phone book. Very nice guy. I felt badly about asking him to recommend another retailer, so I mumbled, “I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s kind of an emergency.” My office-mate started cracking up, and cried, “Help, I have a blind date tonight and he thinks I’m a double D; I need stuffing fast.” I shushed her, but LeNique guy overheard and started laughing. Anyway, he did end up finding a place for me in the Garment District – so thank you LeNique guy! I went on my lunch hour, and they had every cup size imaginable. Their cups actually looked a bit small. So I bought one B and one C. I mean, one pair of each, of course… I brought them to my dressmaker, and she rolled her eyes, and said they were not the right shape – too circular, instead of demi, and repeated that they weren’t Latin. She finally said she’d use whatever I wanted at this point.

I don’t think the dress is going to work out because the material’s just not right. But I still don’t get the Latin versus ballet thing – every Latin dancer is the same cup size? Stacey Keibler’s cups were smallish, weren’t they?

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My Duty to Perform

Okay, just received about the biggest back-handed compliment ever. Last night at my studio, we had a party, and my Cha Cha teacher wanted the class to perform the routine we’ve been working on. There are several “students” in the class who are professional jazz and ballet dancers who are learning ballroom so that they can eventually teach it. I was really nervous, especially given that I’m the worst in the class, but figured it would be good experience for my upcoming theater showcase in March, and there didn’t seem to be that many people there, so I thought I’d try. But, while I was resting in the lounge between class and party, another student apparently thought I was trying to calm my nerves, and sat down next to me. “Hey,” she said, “you must be really nervous. I know, we’re the only non-professionals in the class. But, really, I think it’s very good for other students to see someone who’s obviously not a professional trying hard and yet not giving up. Shows them how hard it is to be a real dancer…” Ugh. Can’t wait to get on that stage in Long Island now!

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Jonathan Roberts stole my song!

Ugh, the nerve of him. Just kidding:) I’m set to perform my very first student / teacher showcase on March 11th and I worked so hard to find the perfect Rhumba song and help my coach and teacher to choreograph a very cool routine, only to turn on Dancing With the Stars last night and see Jonathan and Giselle have already had their way with Jessica Simpson’s remake of Take My Breath Away! Which is a problem for me of course because anyone who will be in my audience likely will be a ballroom fan and thus have religiously watched DWTS, and because Giselle is so gorgeous and such a wonderful dancer – especially for having studied it for like, two days… ugh, they will know how it’s really supposed to look! This is my first time performing on a real stage (albeit a small one) before a real audience (albeit a very small one) since I was about 9 years old and was in a school production of Swan Lake at Phoenix Symphony Hall. My adult stage fright seems to be about 300 times what it was then.

Oh well. Our routine will be different, to be sure, because, in my quest to fulfill my goofy dream of pretending to be ballet goddess Alessandra Ferri, I managed to coax the studio-owner coach (who does the choreography) and my poor teacher (who does the dancing) into putting several pretty lifts into ours – which the DWTS contestants were forbidden from doing. Why was that? Because they’re significantly harder for the male amateurs than the females, or because of age differences in the contestants? That’s my favorite part, man.

Anyway, I have to laugh at myself because over the past several months that I’ve been so immersed in the world of dance, I’ve heard ad nauseam complainants like, so and so stole my costume design, so and so stole my choreography… And, I’m always like, jeez, calm down. At work, we have a brief bank and continuing legal education meetings; we constantly borrow argumentative strategies and ideas from each other. And now, my first reaction upon seeing J & G’s routine is to have a nervous breakdown over the song!