There’s not been much time. Not much to report out here in MONW.
Life moves on slowly, quickly…
The school year is quickly approaching, that long dreadful year of school; and now summer can be seen on the horizon -but too far away yet to reach.
Flowers were delivered from a father who tries to buy his daughter’s love and soothe his guilt for not being the man she deserves
I am consumed with all things dance. The recital is quickly approaching – yet – still – 2? 3? Weeks away? My brain practices the double pirouette I am choreographed to do front, center during our dance. There is no try – it must be flawless. Certainly against a backdrop of girls who don’t even think twice about it. I am a dinosaur in a white tutu among a sea of fresh young things who find movement and control over their body so easy it’s expected and taken for granted. I was them once.
I am, however reminded occasionally that I possess something special. That I still possess that something special that I had as a young dancer that drew all eyes to me. I don’t know if it’s love, passion, emotion- but it’s still there.
“I was just talking with my friend, about you”, this sweet young dancer came up to me during a quick break, “we were talking about you, so I wanted to let you know what we were saying so you didn’t think we were talking behind your back” -oh I’m used to that…. “we were just saying how much we love watching you dance. We just always watch you when we get the chance and when we say ‘oh I wish I could dance like her‘, it’s You we point at.” She pointed at me now, “We want to dance like YOU. We all do. Whatever it is you are doing, you’re always so in it, so invested, so beautiful.” She became a little embarrassed and was rambling and I finally realized the compliment she was giving me. I was too shocked to respond properly and we had to resume our places and continue with the rehearsal but it still resounds in my head.
I’m old-but I’m a role model. I am what they aspire to be….I’m not sure I can ask for anything more.
The other part of it is this:
The hours of pain and practice and remembering steps and counts have been mixed in a bowl, baked into a wonderful cake that is performing.
I love performing. I love bringing the result of the collective hard work of countless hours of countless people together, to create a moment of expression that can never be captured again, to others.
My friend happened upon an interview by Mitsuko Uchida where she talks briefly about this wonderful and terrifying experience that is true performance. It speaks my feelings so much more eloquently than I could. And if you feel so inclined you could continue watching a very inspired performance of Beethoven’s 4th Piano Concertos. One of his first groundbreaking compositions-and done most subtilely.
I wasn’t happy with any of the ones in the store so….I made them. Of course, because that’s what I do. Make things…. Bits of these eyelashes, bits of others….a lot of glue, a little swearing under my breath….I hope they stay together for the 4 full stage makeup rehearsals and performances….then they can fall apart all they want.
I hear the words of my ballet teacher from out east in my head. (He was a retired soloist from the NYC ballet during the time of Balanchine and my most beloved teacher) he said about putting on stage makeup, “put it on until you’re sure you’ve put too much on, then put more on”. It’s true. I know in this little town Of MONW I’m going to see a sea of pasty faced girls. I hope they’ll let me draw eyes on them and give them cheeks and lips that won’t disappear under the blinding lights.
I get to work in the wings for the first performance. I’m giddy like a child at the thought of this. That: in the wings, just off stage, is where the real magic happens. Costumes get pinned when they tragically break, hugs and air kisses and Meirds get whispered and somehow the nerves are turned into fuel that makes you leap a little higher, smile wider and remind you that you are a part of something much bigger.
Now here is where I take a step back.
I must remind myself. This is not the NYC’s soloist’s company, we are not dancing with a live, well known orchestra, we have no famous names on the billboard. This is just a little kid recital taught by teachers who make me shake my head sometimes and the audience is going to laugh at their cuteness more then gasp at their talent.
But for me…it awakens a dragon that has slept for a long long time and is now rushing back with terrific ferocity and speed.