Symphonie Gang Wars.

It's time for another "City Center Storybook" Moment!

When the curtain goes up it may all look like glitter and glamour, but there is a dark underbelly to the glittering world of ABT. Yes folks, just like the Sharks and the Jets we have our very own gang wars! You may find it hard to believe, but here is the photgraphic proof in this Dateline Exclusive "The Underside of the Tutu."

The "Five Minutes Until Battle" call is one of the most intense times for both gangs as they practice their moves. Precision is everything in battle.


Jackie, a member of the "Lashes" gang, questions the outcome of today's tensions.


The momentary peace meeting is brought to a screeching halt as legs fly into the air; the war has begun.


Hee Seo, a member of the "Dagger Legs" gang, raises her hand to the heavens in a defiant gesture of victory.


Another "Dagger Legs" member, Isabella, knows that glamour is everything and takes a moment to flash her gang symbol. This was right before turning around and scratching someones eyes out with those very hands.


One of the founding members of "Lashes," Marian (out of her witch doctor disguise for the day), laughs at the simple moves of those around her. She is going to pull out some "Mortal Kombat" skills tonight.


Bring it bitch.

CHANGE YOUR BOOKMARKS!!!!

For anyone that is reading this blog still and thinks I never update it (Abby) it is because i always forget to put the new posts up on this old URL. The NEW URL is here RANTING DETAILS! and is always the first to be updated. So click the link above and change those bookmarks!

CHANGE YOUR LINKS!!!!

For anyone that is reading this blog still and thinks I never update it (Abby) it is because i always forget to put the new posts up on this old URL. The NEW URL is here RANTING DETAILS! and is always the first to be updated. So click the link above and change those bookmarks!

Morty The Mortifier.

Mor.ti.fi.ca.tion-n
1. deep shame and humiliation
2. the death and decaying of a part of a living body

I never thought that I would be posting a blog that starts with the definition of mortification. Then again, life is full of unexpected surprises and tonight was no exception.

As I was backstage preparing for my performance of “Rodeo,” I had a strange feeling that something was a little bit off tonight. Perhaps is was the fact that I had eaten something healthy for dinner (not my usual fast food diet) or maybe that I hadn’t rehearsed the ballet I was to perform, in about a week; either way, an ominous feeling began to creep over the evening.

The stage was filled with people preparing for “Meadow” as I was in my back corner wishing good luck and going over my steps for the last ballet of the evening. It was a hurried review, one that in hindsight only skimmed the surface, but what was I to do?
It was soon time to get into costume and as I put on my fancy purple and pink cowboy uniform I felt ready to go out and show the audience my knee-weakening swagger. The curtain went up, I channeled my machismo attitude and relied on muscle memory to carry me through.

It started with an exaggerated batme. What should have been a 90-degree extension suddenly expelled itself as a chorus-girl kick escaping out of my body. Who were these demons that were attempting to escape? I couldn’t help but smirk at myself for having over-exaggerated the moves within the first few moments; perhaps my excitement had just taken a hold of me. Then things plummeted off the front of the stage into the orchestra pit….

Always considering myself a count-consistent dancer, I felt my brain melt like a pound of butter as I stood center stage. What had once been second nature to me was suddenly absent from my mind. As the boys around me stood doing the choreography I lifted up my legs proudly about 16 counts too early. Immediately I second guessed myself and place my leg down. As if I had been electrocuted by the ground, my leg again recoiled to the improper position and I stood with egg on my face as the boys around me rejoiced in their correctness. How could I have been so stupid? Hadn’t I been the one that people had been asking about the correct counts only minutes before the curtain rose? The joke was on me as I heard the rest of the cast begin to snicker behind me.

(Happy moments on the costume rack BEFORE things got sucked into the vortex of evilness.)

In case it wasn’t clear, I had my first MAJOR fuck-up tonight on stage. A new found sympathy has been discovered for those whose minds fail them from time to time. Not since I was ten, content with bowl-cut and glasses, has such a thing happened to me. At that time I had been a young boy dancing the shim-sham center stage with a group of tappers. As they began to rush, I stopped dead still center stage for about 10 counts frustrated in their stupidity. There was nothing I could do and afterwards I just broke down to my mother in frustration. Tonight, however, it was I who was basking in the stupidity. We all have our moments, I guess, but on stage with ABT blanking out will never be one of my proudest.

The support, and mockery, from the cast and the staff was enough to lift my spirits to a point where I don’t feel like it is the end of the world. People thought maybe I was just doing some ab-strengthening exercises center stage; a solid alibi. As I strolled through Times Square later tonight I thought I would do a little re-enactment of my over-excited extension from early in the piece; a moment I was willing to re-enact pictured above. The rest, however, will have to live in the memories of the proud few who witnessed it.

Fortunately, it was nothing that a little time with my sister and Scott couldn't fix.

Scott was even generous enough to demonstrate my crazy kick in the "Seattle Cafe." How we ended up there will forever be a mystery to me. My brain was obviously eaten by velociraptors tonight.

Random Rehearsal Shots.

Citing the blog as an excuse to do so, I purchased a new camera yesterday. Aside from the fact that my old one was literally falling apart every day in my bag, I wanted something that I could change up manually and capture movement better than before. Here are the first few shots that I took while playing around on the stage today. No fancy captions this time, just good old fashioned blog indulgence.
If you click on any of the photos they will become larger so you can actually see everything!

(Marcelo and Blaine get their aerobic work for the day with a little "Upper Room" reviewing. I attempted to create the smoke but my mind couldn't make it happen.)


(This is a picture from "Meadow" rehearsal that I enjoy because I feel like it captures the aura of piece perfectly. Fluid and ethereal, existing both planted in the ground and floating in the air, it's a really beautiful piece.)


(A shot of David and Stella rehearsing the goosebump inducing pas from "Meadow." It's a lesson in "how did he dream that up" type of choreography that has to be seen to be believed.)

I don't know if it is this way for everyone but I am eternally in love theaters. Everything about them has always fascinated me. As I child I think I would have been happier running around backstage than just about anywhere else. It still is an overwhelming feeling sitting on stage during rehearsals and looking out at the empty theater. I am always reminded of old MGM movies musicals about backstage life ala "Kiss Me Kate." It's easy to take things like this for granted sometimes but every once in a while I remember the kid in myself and allow him to get giddy.....even if just for a minute. Then it's back to my "too cool for school" attitude. Just kidding.

Songs YOU need to download. 10/26/06

I am back in an obsessive music purchasing phase. On top of searching for music to choreograph to, I am craving music like it's crack.

Knock 'Em Out-Lily Allen
Everything's Just Wonderful-Lily Allen

This is some new music from the British Gwen Stefani, Lily Allen. Somehow all British music sounds fairly cheesy to me but there is no denying that this is enjoyable happy pop with a sarcastic edge and clever lyrics. I mean an album that begins with "When you first left me, I was wanting more. But you were fucking that girl next door. What did you do that for?" Can't be half bad right? Gotta love the Brits.

"On The Bus Mall"-The Decemberists
"The Crane Wife 3"-The Decemberists
This is a band that I have been trying to push on all of my friends and it isn't quite working. Lead singer Colin Meloy is one of my good friends' brothers and a lyrical genius. He takes every approach BUT the conventional one, sprinkling his surprisingly catchy songs with words like "barbs, bayonets, threadbare" and so on. Slightly different than the "bitches and ho's" approach to music recently. Their new album is different and a little more mainstream but brilliant nonetheless.

"Cellphone's Dead"-Beck
"We Dance Alone"-Beck
Two songs from his fantastic new album.

"Opus 17"-Marie Antoinette Soundtrack
"Concerto In G"-Marie Antoinette Soundtrack
Ewww. I can't believe I just endorsed something from that awful movie. I can feel my fingers burning as I type this. No denying its a GREAT soundtrack though.

And now for a new section "Songs That I Feel Kind of Guilty Enjoying"

"Wind It Up"-Gwen Stefani
Let's get one thing straight, I am a HUGE Gwen Stefani fan. Ever since the days of "No Doubt" she has been one of my favorite artists because what she lacked in vocal talent she made up in originality. Her first solo album was a departure from the quality of "No Doubt" but it was insanely fun and addictive which was a new road for her. I cannot wait until her next album comes out (Dec. 5th) but this new single is kind of disappointing. The first time I listened to it I couldn't believe she was using a "Sound of Music" sample and barely singing throughout. With lyrics like "I know you think he's fine and stuff, but does he know how to wind you up?" things were looking bleak. A weird mix of "Hollaback Girl"-ish beats and "Rich Girl" I hate to admit that it's growing on me. Damn her!


P.S. Does anyone even read these music posts? Leave a comment and let me know because I don't want to keep posting them if no one wants to see it.

Articulation of Change?

Stepping out of your comfort zone is a hard thing to do, whether mentally or physically. For this reason alone I was impressed with the show that I watched at ABT last night. On one of my few nights off I decided to take my sister and go peek at the last two pieces on the program Wednesday night. I didn’t know what to expect, as it was my first time watching our premiere ballet of the season “Glow-Stop.” From the minute the curtain went up and the frenzied pace began I was mesmerized by what was happening on stage. It is such a rush getting to watch your friends dance as they do in this piece, exhibiting a sense of abandon rarely seen in classical ballet. I won’t go into too much detail but I was very pleasantly surprised with what I saw last night especially since it was so far out of the “comfort zone” that can be established with various forms of movement.

Why is it so difficult to initiate change? My dad wrote me an incredible email the other day concerning this issue and I will never be able to put it as eloquently as he did but I’ll try. Fear is such a stifling thing because it brings up the ideas of success and failure. These are polar opposites, but both representing change, which takes initiative. I was reminded of this when watching “Glow-Stop” last night; I was reminded of this in class just this morning. Resistance to change is a draining and useless thing but something that is also unavoidable. It is getting over this resistance, whether to a new movement pattern or new mental pattern, that you allow yourself to become freer. You can only resist so long before you have to give in. Easier said than done, right?

It sounds obvious to say that being scared is a natural thing. I find with myself that being scared is often what I am scared of, a bit of a mind twister. When suddenly I am not aware of who I am as these feelings come into my head I retract and try to overanalyze. Like with dance, your mind works in similar ways, things will work easier when you relax into the movement of your mind and body. Like with “Glow-Stop” last night, success CAN be found when stepping into uncomfortable territory. Here I go again with one of my “YOU” speeches directed at myself. It’s just one of those days.

Sometimes the life lessons that we learn from such a young age (i.e. “focus on the positive”) seem impossible to adhere to. The more that I expand myself and my mindset, the larger the umbrella known as my “comfort zone” will become. I am learning that I am comfortable with some things I had not thought before, and uncomfortable with other things I used to love (crappy Hollywood movies i.e. Marie Craponiette.) This blog is all over the place today as my brain is working through new ideas; I feel about as articulate as President Bush.

Lazy Post of the Day. Hallmark Moments.

Children ride bikes (or all terrain vehicles in Montana...really safe for the young'ins) and lift their hands in the air exlcaiming, "Look Ma! No hands." A moment meant to show off for the parents and display your magical bike ridding talents.

Well I never had magical bike riding talents, but I do get to exlaim the close cousin of the above phrase, "Look Ma! I'm an old man!" Here I am (making some face even I can't seem to recognize) in my Old Soldier makeup for "Green Table." I hope when I am 60 I don't wear QUITE that much makeup. It kind of looks like the top half of my head is missing too because of the way my hair is colored. Fun times, I guess I lost it in the previous battle.

Wow, this is officially the laziest post I have ever done. I just said "Hi, Look at my face." It's second week of City Center; the theater insanity is setting in.

Sometimes Movies Suck.

Dear Sofia Coppola,

Please stop masturbating on screen, no one enjoys watching it. I sat through two tedious hours of your new movie “Marie Antoinette” last night and I desperately want them back. If only you had named the movie something like, “Paris Hilton’s Excellent Adventure” or perhaps “Strawberry Shortcake Drops Acid and Takes Over France,” then maybe I could forgive you. Displaying this showcase of endless imagery as a movie is a crime against the human mind. What could have served as a modern romp in the style of Baz Luhrmann’s “Romeo and Juliet” instead becomes an extended music video advertisement for wedding cake and champagne. See, Baz had Shakespeare to work with; you on the other hand had a script that could barely fill a “Berenstein Bears” book. It did all look yummy all right, as Kirstin Dunst frolicked around the estate. Then Kirstin Dunst frolicked around the garden. Then Kirstin Dunst ran with her arms plastered to her sides as if she had been shot with a tranquilizer gun. That was my favorite, so thanks Sofia for that. The fact that you have somehow convinced someone to produce this movie (can it even be called a movie?!) is beyond me. Perhaps the same tranquilizer gun used on Kirstin was involved in the contract signings. I don’t care how pretty your gorgeous shots were, because somewhere in the editing room the movie got left out of this multi-million dollar spectacle. The annoying part is that I fear many people will be duped. You have made it so sugary sweet that you are basically drugging the audience into believing it’s art. Shame on you. I am off to burn my copy of your brilliant movie “Lost In Translation.”
Kisses,
-M

YEEEE-HAAAAW!

On my way to bed so this is going to be just a few pictures from my first show of the season today, "Rodeo." Always enjoyable to get out there and gallop around on my imaginary horse named Bobo. No words of wisdom here, just good ole' insanity in the pics. Must sleep because tomorrow I'm gonna start a war. Then I am going to battle in it as the weathered old soldier that I am at my withered age of 20. It's real life folks....or "The Green Table," which is alarmingly relevant today, come check it out!

Julio and I rock the authentic cowboy outfits. Having grown up in Montana, I can attest to the fact that any pictures I see of authentic cowboys have them rocking the purple and blue shirts with pink jeans. That whole acid trippy Easter Basket look was HUGE in the 1800's.

Charlie, I mean, Sascha shows off his best blog face. Check out SASCHA'S NEW MOVIE!I sense a Star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame in the near future.

I have nothing to say about this. It kind of speaks for itself.

My Brain Is Snowed In. Pun Intended.

Let me just get the problem right out in the open; I am having a hard time not being too literal with the music. Perhaps that sounds a bit strange but let me attempt to explain.

I am in the midst my preparatory thoughts of creating the Snow Pas de Deux for my friend Jackie and I and its proving to be a bit difficult. My first instincts are to follow the music like a grid but what I really want to accomplish is the creation of another melody through the dancing. I don’t want to BE the music I want to react to, and have the music react to, my movements. As I begin to create, sometimes I cannot tell whether or not I am creating my own melodies or not because the steps merge with a music in a way that they all become one. Sitting here listening to the mystical Tchaikovsky music over and over again has a bit of a dizzying effect, not unlike a snow flurry!

For inspiration tonight I have been watching Balanchine’s “Jewels.” This is something I am very hesitant to do but journeying to this new world of partnering choreography is forcing me to reach out for any flickers of inspiration I can get. While reading my de Kooning book I came across this quote that discusses the subject of finding inspiration from other artists. “Everything is already in art, like a big bowl of soup, and you just stick your hand in, and find something for you. But it was already there, like a stew.” This book seems to be chock full of inspirations with every page turn.

It also brings to mind another quote by Stephen Sondheim, “The prettier the flower, the father from the path.” I feel like I will be able to achieve something more if I don’t just follow the guidelines pulsing into my ears. It prompts understanding in people who choreograph without music, something I had once thought unfathomable.

I can’t even begin to describe my anticipation for making this Snow pas come together. I have always loved dancing with my friend Jackie but it is going to be a bit surreal dancing my own choreography with her. I just have to have patience with myself, something that seems to have jumped off the cliff in recent weeks.

The picture above has nothing to do with anything in this post. I’m too lazy to even try to tie it in! I just took it from the wings the other day and enjoy its movement.

The First City Center Story.

I don't know the reason, but I tend to photograph the same people over and over again. I jokingly refer to Adrienne as my "blog Muse" because what started as a joke during Met season has ended up carrying over to City Center. Of course it makes sense that the main people I photograph are the people that I hang around with most. In truth though, I despise Adrienne and we are planning to join the WWF (does that even still exist?) so we can create alter-egos and duel it out. Just kidding! Although that does kind of sound like fun.

Here is the first City Center story, lovingly titled "Brokeback Witch Doctor," starring Marian Butler, Adrienne Schulte and Blaine Hoven.

It was a bitter October morning that Marian "Boot Straps" Butler woke up and thought...."Screw being a butcher! I am going to be a cowgirl!"

To which her husband Blaine replied, "Honey, I am way ahead of you. Have you seen these new Prada boots I'm wearing? They're all the rage." Marian just smiled with discontent because deep in her heart she knew.....

He was cavorting with that ranch hand (which she had hired months ago in case she decided to give up being a butcher) and they had been "waltzing" in the barn for months!

It was at that exact moment that the ladies of the town were shuffling by....

Adrienne couldn't keep her mouth shut and said, "Have you heard about poor old Blaine? He didn't realize but...."

"Marian is a witch doctor!"

When she found out about his Rodeo "waltzing" she Wizard of Oz-ed the shoes and then did what she does to all her husbands who "waltz" behind her back.

She cut off his head, and turned it into an art project by pasting some old hair on it and painting it. That witch doctor is so creative! Just beware or you too will turn into a paper mache head!!!!! It's a fate that we all must try to avoid.

Creepiest. Thing. Ever.

I just got back from the theater and along with more comments on the debate going on over the post below, I had this video in my inbox. This is something that has been floating around for a little over a year now but it never ceases to stun and scare me. It has a way of inducing horror and excitement all at once, kind of like Liza Minnelli. Now, what I am about to say has NOTHING to do with the little girl in the video because she's young and yada yada yada, but.....it basically sums up what I think is wrong with dance in this country. I personally am not a fan of dance competitions and the fact that this girl is dancing like a 30 year old Jon Benet (and is 9) is reason enough for her parents to be taken on Maury for child abuse. Okay, I'm exaggerating. Just watch for yourself. I think she does 11 pirouettes and one point. The one lesson I have learned from this is that I will immediately be calling to get myself a platform with my name spelled out in sparkly letters. You know, just to dance on in my apartment.

The First City Center Story.

I don't know the reason, but I tend to photograph the same people over and over again. I jokingly refer to Adrienne as my "blog Muse" because what started as a joke during Met season has ended up carrying over to City Center. Of course it makes sense that the main people I photograph are the people that I hang around with most. In truth though, I despise Adrienne and we are planning to join the WWF (does that even still exist?) so we can create alter-egos and duel it out. Just kidding! Although that does kind of sound like fun.

Here is the first City Center story, lovingly titled "Brokeback Witch Doctor," starring Marian Butler, Adrienne Schulte and Blaine Hoven.

It was a bitter October morning that Marian "Boot Straps" Butler woke up and thought...."Screw being a butcher! I am going to be a cowgirl!"

To which her husband Blaine replied, "Honey, I am way ahead of you. Have you seen these new Prada boots I'm wearing? They're all the rage." Marian just smiled with discontent because deep in her heart she knew.....

He was cavorting with that ranch hand (which she had hired months ago in case she decided to give up being a butcher) and they had been "waltzing" in the barn for months!

It was at that exact moment that the ladies of the town were shuffling by....

Adrienne couldn't keep her mouth shut and said, "Have you heard about poor old Blaine? He didn't realize but...."

"Marian is a witch doctor!"

When she found out about his Rodeo "waltzing" she Wizard of Oz-ed the shoes and then did what she does to all her husbands who "waltz" behind her back.

She cut off his head, and turned it into an art project by pasting some old hair on it and painting it. That witch doctor is so creative! Just beware or you too will turn into a paper mache head!!!!! It's a fate that we all must try to avoid.

de Kooning Goes To City Center.

We have gone from rehearsal (above) to theater (below) in, what seems like, record time. As I walked into City Center today I couldn’t believe that it was already here again. Sometimes life really does speed by, and as quick as this rehearsal period has been, the past year has flown by just as rapidly.

With my arrival at the theater today I was struck by a certain uneven mood. I cannot help but be a little bit frustrated with the fact that I am not going to be performing anything new this year. I will be repeating my roles in “Rodeo” and “The Green Table” (a personal favorite and BRILLIANT ballet) but I am feeling a bit stuck at the moment. Self-disappointment is the hardest to handle at times and I am struck by this affliction at the moment. As troubled as this post may seem, I assure you that is not entirely the case. I am feeling incredibly inspired at the moment by this brilliant biography of Willem de Kooning that I have recently picked up again.

Aside from learning all about the 20’s and 30’s in New York, it is proving to be a fascinating account of what makes an artist. Right now I am reading about the period in his life where he is making the conscious choice to give himself entirely to his art. A young man in the city struggling to find his own voice, I can’t help but find similarities in our stories. Rather than wallow in the Depression, as the rest of the city seems to be forced to do, he finds the hope and artistic inspiration stemming from all around him. He always stays true to himself even though he isn’t quite sure who that is yet.

De Kooning realized that it was about constantly questioning everything around you. Life and art were constantly shifting and therefore so did your viewpoint on things. As much change and activity as there is in the present, it is okay to embrace the past. By constantly acknowledging your influences, whether in art or in life, you are stepping away from the fear you have of not living up to them. It is better to admit the power of genius and move on rather than become afraid of not living up to it and stifle yourself. It brings to mind a quote used in the book…as T.S. Eliot puts it, “Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.”

Channeling all of these questions, fears, disappointments, etc. into art is what it is all about. At the moment I am having a “de Kooning-esque” doubt of whether or not I am really an artist. My friend Jackie and I were discussing recently how it is easy to feel a bit like an automaton in a ballet company. I realize though that that is a choice and not requirement. The rigidity of classical ballet is still malleable as much as it may not seem so. I look forward to going out and dancing the role of Old Soldier in “Green Table” and completely investing myself in every detail. As always, I cannot wait to watch my fellow artists and all of the ballets that the season has to offer.

(The girls strut their stuff late at night on the first day at the theater.)

Essentially we both create and are created by the world around us. I am choosing to create the world I desire. Over the next three weeks my goal is to develop and find music to create my first ballet to. I have the seeds of an idea that I am extremely excited about but haven’t quite found the perfect music yet. Sometimes I just need to vent a little bit but right now I am feeling exhilarated by the admittance of my disappointment which can now allow me to move on with my business. You do what you gotta do. If anyone has made it this far into this truly RANTING blog, I applaud you. It’s getting a little self- indulgent today. Oh well, once in a while! Another thing that needs to happen once in a while (or all the time) is Sufjan Stevens. Here’s a song that just makes me happy happy happy. “The Henney Buggy Band.”

Sunday. Soho. Shortbus.

(Jackie Chills with Julias the Monkey on the street. Just a normal day in NYC.)






It happened again. As much as I decided I was over Soho, yesterday I journeyed out of my apartment and like a lazy magnet just ended up there. Lots of romping around and shopping seeing as I find any change of season an adequate excuse to throw out excessive amounts of money on new clothes. The true highlight of the day was seeing the brilliant new movie “Shortbus.”

Whenever I am pressed to answer the “what’s your favorite movie” question, I always stutter thinking for an answer. One movie always pops into my head though and that is “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” Finally the creator of that masterpiece is back with a new movie “Shortbus,” which is an ode to sexuality and New York City.

First things first, this is the most graphic movie you will probably ever see in the theater. The sex is all real and everything is shown, which amazingly never seems pornographic. John Cameron Mitchell has done an incredible job at making the sex stem from the characters wants and needs. Immediately you are invested in these people and the dialogue always seems realistic. There are no “did you call for a pizza” porn scenarios here, but the sex all comes across as both sexy and liberating. The whole movie seems to represent the idea of sex as a liberation of your senses that allows you to really exist in the world you trudge around in.

At times the movie is hilarious, at times you want to cry, but at all times it was completely engrossing. It brings up interesting ideas of existence in general but never seems preachy. That is mirrored by the fact that the shocking sex never seems unnecessary. It acts as a perfect “fuck you” to the Bush Administration’s never ending reign on censorship; something John Cameron Mitchell has expressed as one of the movie’s purposes. I cannot praise this movie enough, but don’t want to over-hype it too much. Go and see it for yourself and sit down with an open mind.

On the way back home from the theater my friends and I stumbled over to the closing of CBGB’s. I won’t pretend like I had any personal connection to the club but even I find it sad that it is closing. We came back to my place and honored it in our own way, by blasting some Blondie.

(My poser shot of New York Landmark CBGB closing down.)

'Push'ing My Opinion Around.

Reputation is a tricky thing. On one hand, having one means that there are expectations (whether good or bad) and an obvious buzz surrounding your presence. On the other hand it means that there are high standards to live up to. Sitting in the audience at City Center last night it was obvious that people were waiting with electrifying excitement for the chance to watch Sylvie Guillem in action. She has a reputation in the ballet world as being an otherworldly creature and a true artist in every sense of the word.

From the moment the curtain went up it was obvious, as if everyone didn’t already know, that this reputation was well deserved. Even from my seat in the back of the balcony her presence was radiant and mesmerizing even when doing the simplest movements. She possesses a control over her body unlike anyone I have ever seen with each arm and leg extension transfixing your eye. Gasps of shock arrived from the stunned audience the moment she lifted her leg.

It takes a true star to command an evening worth of works and in my opinion this evening had three. While the unrivaled star was inarguably Ms. Guillem, her choreographer and partner Russell Maliphant more than held his own next to the elongated goddess and in his own solo. The third star of the evening, and my biggest source of frustration/excitement, was the lighting. Each piece is a showcase for the production values and the dancing but sometimes the balance felt uneven to me. When lighting plays such an important part in the evening it begins to feel a little bit gimmicky to me. If the choreography cannot match the brilliance of the lighting I tend to get frustrated. I think this was also because the pieces tended to drag on a few minutes too long for my taste. Instead of leaving the audience wanting more, as they would have after a brief encounter, the first two solos (one for both Guillem and Maliphant) seemed a little overindulgent. It is an exciting idea to use something completely inhuman (i.e. lighting) as a key partner within the work but it just didn’t seem to live up to the reputation set by Ms. Guillem.

(The medical condition known as "Sylvie Shock" includes drooling and bug eyes.)

I really do admire her for coming to the city and doing something as unexpected as this. Part of the fun of having a reputation is to surprise people with transformation. In her second solo where she stays glued within the center of a square of light, she became a goddess of contortion and control; dripping like syrup one moment and sweeping her arms in a frenzied vortex of energy the next. Everyone was completely spellbound.

The final piece was the first time they shared the stage together. It contained some of the most effortless partnering that I have ever seen. As they swept each other across the space they were creating a horizon of shapes that rolled and cut through the air. Yet somehow there was still something missing for me.

Even as I write this I feel unable to really articulate my thoughts. Reminiscent of the way I felt after seeing the new Twyla show, I feel people are afraid NOT to like “Push.” As much as I admire someone like Twyla or Sylvie, it doesn’t mean that everything they do is brilliant. Reputation has a way of shaping people’s opinions and in this case I feel like people are unable to separate the work from the workers. It’s difficult being in the minority with something like this when I am at work trying to explain my reasons for NOT being blown away. Of course by aspects of it I was but the sum of the brilliant parts didn’t add up to a complete whole for me. Feeling a bit crazy now…time to relax for the weekend!

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'Push'ing My Opinion Around.

Reputation is a tricky thing. On one hand, having one means that there are expectations (whether good or bad) and an obvious buzz surrounding your presence. On the other hand it means that there are high standards to live up to. Sitting in the audience at City Center last night it was obvious that people were waiting with electrifying excitement for the chance to watch Sylvie Guillem in action. She has a reputation in the ballet world as being an otherworldly creature and a true artist in every sense of the word.

From the moment the curtain went up it was obvious, as if everyone didn’t already know, that this reputation was well deserved. Even from my seat in the back of the balcony her presence was radiant and mesmerizing even when doing the simplest movements. She possesses a control over her body unlike anyone I have ever seen with each arm and leg extension transfixing your eye. Gasps of shock arrived from the stunned audience the moment she lifted her leg.

It takes a true star to command an evening worth of works and in my opinion this evening had three. While the unrivaled star was inarguably Ms. Guillem, her choreographer and partner Russell Maliphant more than held his own next to the elongated goddess and in his own solo. The third star of the evening, and my biggest source of frustration/excitement, was the lighting. Each piece is a showcase for the production values and the dancing but sometimes the balance felt uneven to me. When lighting plays such an important part in the evening it begins to feel a little bit gimmicky to me. If the choreography cannot match the brilliance of the lighting I tend to get frustrated. I think this was also because the pieces tended to drag on a few minutes too long for my taste. Instead of leaving the audience wanting more, as they would have after a brief encounter, the first two solos (one for both Guillem and Maliphant) seemed a little overindulgent. It is an exciting idea to use something completely inhuman (i.e. lighting) as a key partner within the work but it just didn’t seem to live up to the reputation set by Ms. Guillem.

(The medical condition known as "Sylvie Shock" includes drooling and bug eyes.)

I really do admire her for coming to the city and doing something as unexpected as this. Part of the fun of having a reputation is to surprise people with transformation. In her second solo where she stays glued within the center of a square of light, she became a goddess of contortion and control; dripping like syrup one moment and sweeping her arms in a frenzied vortex of energy the next. Everyone was completely spellbound.

The final piece was the first time they shared the stage together. It contained some of the most effortless partnering that I have ever seen. As they swept each other across the space they were creating a horizon of shapes that rolled and cut through the air. Yet somehow there was still something missing for me.

Even as I write this I feel unable to really articulate my thoughts. Reminiscent of the way I felt after seeing the new Twyla show, I feel people are afraid NOT to like “Push.” As much as I admire someone like Twyla or Sylvie, it doesn’t mean that everything they do is brilliant. Reputation has a way of shaping people’s opinions and in this case I feel like people are unable to separate the work from the workers. It’s difficult being in the minority with something like this when I am at work trying to explain my reasons for NOT being blown away. Of course by aspects of it I was but the sum of the brilliant parts didn’t add up to a complete whole for me. Feeling a bit crazy now…time to relax for the weekend!

I Need A Nap. Just like "Little Children."

I think the entire company is in a pre-City Center stupor right now. As the season begins to call our names, rehearsals are going full swing and leaving everyone exhausted. Walking myself home at night seems like a chore usually resulting in me sitting on the couch and doing no actual chores. Tonight I decided I needed a little change of pace so I went for solo movie night at the Angelika to see “Little Children.”

This is a movie that I was eagerly anticipating and it lived up to some of my expecations but not all. I have always wished that “Desperate Housewives” had a little more substance and were put on a network like HBO because I feel that suburban life is something that fascinates all of us. “American Beauty” dove into the underbelly of it beautifully and this movie attempts to take a similar path. It has the same sort of comedic and dramatic moments like “Desperate Housewives” but unlike that ball of fluff (my guilty pleasure) it dives into the minds of its characters.

All of the actors in the movie are brilliant which should come as no surprise. Patrick Wilson, Jennifer Connelly and Kate Winslet have all done such consistently good work and they continue that reputation here. This movie (like “Half Nelson”) takes a decidedly slower pace in building its characters which makes the payoff that much more exciting. By the time Kate Winslet and Patrick Wilson have sex, the audience was on the edge of their seats knowing it HAD to happen soon. Don’t worry I didn’t ruin anything, you know that from the preview.

Sometimes I feel that in the creation of things people just try to hard. I know for myself when I work on writing or choreography sometimes I just attempt to “say” too much instead of relying on simplicity. I think this movie suffered a little bit from reaching too high with a few side story lines that didn’t really add up for me. However I really do recommend it because it is an interesting look at the desire to really “live” life and not just be complacent. Sometimes in the search for something more you are ignoring the wonderful life that you are already living. On that note, I need to stop living life for a few minutes and just sleep!

Don't Know Why...

Let me explain this little chain of events. Tonight's laundry night and before I sit down to read my book I decided to check my email. I had a link from my dad of the girls in Montana working on my Snow choreography which got me excited. This excitement prompted me to think about Mark Morris' "The Hard Nut" and it's brilliant Snow Scene which I then journeyed to YouTube to find. I typed in Mark Morris and this came up, in all its priceless glory. It has been way too long since I have seen this, and I share it now with you.

LetZ Talk Before I Catch Some Zzzzz's.

Disclaimer: The note below is all in good fun and written to those known as the Ballet Boyz/George Piper Dances.

Dear Ballet BoyZ,

I think that “N*Sync” clearly established the fact that “creative” spelling is a no-no. The first order of business is to remove the “Z” from your name ASAP, as in it’s gone NOW. No one should be allowed to commit this travesty but most especially no one over the age of 10. From the looks of it you were pushing 40, therefore making the crime that much more pressing. Not only is the “Z” completely unnecessary, but you also made it apparent from the moment the curtain went up at City Center last week that you were NOT going to be dancing anything that was TRULY ballet. Sure you threw in a few drape lifts and a few ballet jumps for good measure, but the majority of it was a lot of walking in circles and upping the homoerotic tension. My point being, you might as well have named your troupe “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves,” it would have been just as relevant but at least I would have had a Cher song running through my head, not that trance music you were dancing to. That should be outlawed too. Don't market yourself as something you are not, enjoy what you are. That is the "Sesame Street" Lesson of the day. I think that’s all for now. Kisses from this side of the pond.
-M
P.S. What is happening with the photo above? I only ask because the file name was “bigwet.jpg” I think you need to have a general “naming” lesson.
P.P.S I WAS drugged up on cold medicine during this performance but unless it was laced with something I really don’t think I hallucinated what I saw last Saturday.
P.P.P.S. I just wasn’t crazy about the performance, the rest of the audience seemed to be….except my friends and I.

Okay, now that I have gotten that off of my chest, let me do a few more brief thoughts about the two performances of “Fall For Dance” I saw last week. I should start by reiterating what is already common knowledge; this festival is an INCREDIBLE opportunity. Not only for the audiences, but for the dancers as well and the entire arts world. You could tell when looking around the theater that this was an eclectic group of theater- goers that were genuinely excited to be there. I mean nothing can seem TOO bad when you only paid ten dollars for it so you know going in that you are pretty much in for an enjoyable evening.

As eclectic as the audiences were, the array of companies that were on display each night proved even more so. What began as a classical evening with PNB, quickly turned into a modern romp accompanied by Marilyn Manson during the performance of “Random Dance.” That company, as well as “ASzURe & Artists” (the “Z” is fine there because it is a person’s name) take the cake for the most exciting pieces I saw. Both took a new approach to movement that I was familiar with, contemporary and African respectively, and infused them with a modern life that literally burst off the stage. Something I would love to accomplish when I choreograph. Recently I have been such a fan of unison movement and all of the power that it can pack. This point was further reitterated with the brilliant opening trio by “AsZure.” The audience around me was gasping at how well these boys moved and I could have watched them for at least another hour. Instead I was treated to “Ballet BoyZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ,” and we all know how that ended. Of course before all of that I got to see my fabulous friends in Streb rock their stuff to the delight of everyone in the theater.

What is so brilliant about “Fall For Dance” is that it serves as a kind of party platter for new companies. I would quickly buy tickets to see either of the companies I praised and will avidly avoid others I didn’t like. Perhaps most frustrating to me was PNB’s performance which displayed some nice dancers but left me a little cold on the choreography end. I would enjoyed seeing some of Peter Boal’s work presented but I guess they were trying to whet my appetite for next year. That is the beautiful trap of “Fall For Dance,” it gets you all excited about dance, but you have a full year to wait to enjoy something as spectacular again!

Wow, this got too long. Sorry. It’s not called “RANTING Details” for nothing…..Coming Next Week: Ranting DetailZ.

Sunday In Dream Land.

(David attempts to navigate his way through the wreckage.)







After a long week of fighting off the most debilitating cold I have ever had, I journeyed out into the real world yesterday with Sir David. We started at Think! Coffee, my favorite coffee house that has been overcome by NYU-ers. Give it back to me, NOW! I never have been one of those people who feels like they “discovered” anything in the city but Think! was my first. I wandered in one day last year right after it’s grand opening and plopped myself down far away from the three other patrons in there. It stayed that way for about the next month of my visits and provided a haven for me to write and relax outside of my apartment. Upon returning from summer, Think! has become an NYU birdfeeder and everyone and their Mac’s have invested it. I must call the exterminator.

Okay, now that I am done with my delirious Monday morning rant I will get down to actual business. Is there ever any actual business on a blog?! Yesterday was just what I needed, an aimless excursion with David. However as we walked around it became evident that what was once our “random” activity of the weekend had become routine. As far as Soho goes, I now feel like I have been there, done that, way too frequently. It’s amazing walking around downtown how one block can be a circus of activity while just around the corner there is a quiet sanctuary.

(A beautiful area that was open for the day with my new favorite tree that I will probably never see again.)

It’s amazing how quickly randomness can become routine. In our land of constant innovation and change, doing the same thing a few times in a row seems bland in its comfort. As we hit our favorite spots of the Lower East Side, the conversation was new and great, but the footsteps were the same. Although we do always seem to find something new and exciting when we are out. My personal find yesterday would have to be in a “leather” shop where they had a knee high stiletto boot that was a pointe shoe with a 6 inch heel. I kid you not, that shit looked like the most painful shoe ever. Needless to say, I would not want to be its Cinderella.

(David actually started doing the "Cinderella" Clock Choreography down the street. I pretended he was some crazy New Yorker and I was a tourist who snapped a picture and then ran away in fear.)

I guess all of this has been fairly pointless chatter today but it prompts a question in my head. Is being comfortable with routine a sign of yourself being boring or yourself relaxing in a good way? Doesn’t that question just blow your mind?! Just kidding. Here is something that might though before I sign off for the day…..

Minutes before writing this, I woke up from a dream that included an obese witch doctor-ish George Clooney and Brad Pitt. We were at some bookstore party (you know, one of THOSE blasts) in North Carolina. Things get more ridiculous from there but let’s just say the only hint of reality was that I was attempting to get a blog photo of them. George in all his voodoo hair glory was kind but Brad refused. Can’t take pictures until gay people are allowed to get married, huh Brad? Ugh I hate when dream celebrities are bitches.
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