Year: 2011

Comp diary: Gumbo departure eve

Post author By lauraet
Post date June 15, 2011
4 Comments on Comp diary: Gumbo departure eve

We leave for Gumbo tomorrow in the early afternoon after I finish teaching, with one last practice session on deck for this evening. This will be the great driving-to-competition experiment: is the wear and tear of a 9-hour drive worth the financial savings and the freedom to haul along as much stuff as we want? Might we actually have fun on the road? With my new car, the satellite radio trial still active, 2 drivers, and my smartphone, we are hoping to make it fun. Daniel likes to drive and wants to voir le paysage (see the countryside) along the way and I am going to bring some books to read. And, no matter what, it will be vastly less expensive than flying.

My computer room is covered in luggage and piles of clothes as we get ready to pursue our road-trip experiment. As advertised, the great thing about not flying is that we can relentlessly overpack; thus, I am taking two complete sets of comp wear (one stoned and one unstoned), two “after-five” dresses for the Friday night welcome dance and the Saturday night banquet respectively, four pairs of tights, three four possibly five pairs of shoes, makeup, practice clothes, pajamas, random shorts and t-shirts, a swimsuit, and the necessary (read “overlarge”) assortment of toiletries. Daniel has culled through his collection of black pants, black button-downs, and zipper ties and chosen the ones he wants to take. I have obsessively re-checked the dress code to make sure we don’t get invigilated: the organizers have said that they are checking costumes at registration, so we need to make sure everything is in order. I will never forget the first year that we danced Adult level at the Triangle Open and had to borrow a black tie from a college kid because we had not paid close enough attention to the dress code restrictions for Adult. The dress code is not complicated, but it’s strict.

We dance Adult and Senior I Silver Rhythm on Friday afternoon, then Adult and Senior I Silver Smooth on Friday evening. Both Smooth events are semifinals, so our first big challenge will be to see if we can get recalled into the final. I’m glad we’re dancing Rhythm first; starting with Smooth and leading off the day with a waltz is hard, but starting with a cha-cha will cut right through the nerves. Saturday late morning we are doing the Open American 6-Dance, which is big enough to start with a quarterfinal. That means we have to make 2 recalls in order to be placed. Meep! We will dance the first 3 dances (don’t know if they’ll start with Smooth or Rhythm), then have a break to change outfits, then dance the other 3. Those who make the cut will repeat the process for the semifinal and again for the final. The event is only open to Silver level dancers and below, so we have as good a chance as anyone, I suppose. If we dance well Friday, our placements should suggest how well we might do Saturday. If we flame out on Friday, then Saturday will be our chance for redemption.

Of course, we are also supposed to Have Fun and I am looking forward to the trip in general as well as the chance to perform, which we always like. Ann Durocher-Steven, one of the organizers, told us after our first Gumbo that she doesn’t know anyone who seems to have more fun on the dancefloor than we do. Good technique is important but it seems like the most memorable couples are the ones who really engage with the audience. If someone–even a high-level competitor–has beautiful technique but looks like (s)he’d rather be somewhere else, then something is missing. I can’t imagine spending the hours and days and years required to become an advanced dancer if I weren’t going to enjoy the payoff of dressing up and dancing for an audience. No matter how we might feel about our placements, we always have a good time while we’re out there.

Off in a few minutes for the all-important pre-comp mani-pedi (now with more hyphens!). I have been looking forward to this for days, to the point that I actually dreamed about it last night (the pedicure, not the competition). Is that weird?

comp diary lessons

Comp Diary: Round and round and round

Post author By lauraet
Post date June 7, 2011
1 Comment on Comp Diary: Round and round and round

Yesterday was our last lesson with Eddie before we go to Gumbo the weekend after next. We spent our entire lesson (90 minutes) doing “rounds,” which means running through our competition routines over and over again with only a small break between repetitions. Waltz waltz waltz. Tango tango. Waltz-tango. Foxtrot foxtrot foxtrot foxtrot. Waltz-tango-foxtrot. Waltz-tango-foxtrot. Waltz-tango-foxtrot. You get the idea.

Rounds are ideal for building stamina, obviously: when I took my shoes off at the end of the lesson, they had sweat stains around the top of the heels. But they also help you learn to change gears really quickly. In a typical multi-dance heat in a competition, you walk onto the floor and dance anywhere from 2 to 5 dances (depending on your level) consecutively without leaving the floor. When you have finished one dance, you get a few seconds to take your starting position for the next one, and off you go. You are judged not only on technique but on “the character of the dance,” so during that short break you have to let go of the dance you just completed and focus on the one that’s coming next. After making your waltz look like a waltz–smooth, graceful, romantic–you must immediately make your tango look like a tango (sharp and aggressive) and then your foxtrot look like a foxtrot (upbeat, happy, elegant). And do all this while controlling your nerves, staying in time with the music, and practicing correct floorcraft and technique. No pressure!

I always have a hard time with waltz, especially in the very first heat of the day. Being slow, smooth, and controlled is a challenge when you are buzzing with adrenaline. But yesterday we worked on being more aggressive and powerful in waltz while still expressing the character of the dance: lowering, hinging steps from the hip, covering more floor. I found that if I really focus on my body, it gives my nervous brain something to do AND my dancing gets better. Sometimes I look at myself on video and I can see that I’m dancing with some weird combination of laziness and tentativeness. In some ways I’m holding back (not stretching my steps or working my hips) while in other ways I’m slacking off (letting my bum stick out or not staying left). Yesterday, after an hour or so of drilling our smooth routines and really trying to overcome those shortcomings, I suddenly found that my dancing in cha-cha, rumba, and swing got better too. A rising tide lifts all boats, it seems.

We are going to do some more rounds on our own tomorrow and one or two days next week, then we leave for Gumbo next Thursday. Stay tuned!

Ballerina Corner exhibitions & performances teaching

Madison Studio Recital 2011–Videotastic!

Post author By lauraet
Post date June 5, 2011
No Comments on Madison Studio Recital 2011–Videotastic!

We had an amazing time at the Madison Studio’s annual recital yesterday. Nobody threw up or passed out, everyone remembered to throw away their gum before going onstage, and we all danced GREAT. (Okay, I may have kicked someone in the contemporary ballet number, but we don’t need to talk about that.)

We had not really told our dancers what to expect from the recital experience. I’m still second-guessing that choice. Not that one can explain what it’s like to be onstage, but given another opportunity, I will be more explicit about the logistics of the whole affair: there will be parents and dancers scurrying everywhere; come already dressed unless you are willing to strip down to your skivvies in front of 10 other girls*; apply your makeup “in triplicate”**; be ready to hurry up and wait, probably multiple times; yield to exiting dancers; yield faster to dancers exiting faster; watch your sight lines when you stand backstage; and it’s true that you can’t see the audience when you’re performing.

Oh, and: after it’s over, not remembering anything about your performance is normal. So is being exhausted and starving once the adrenaline wears off.

And: SMILE.

And: BREATHE.

And: HAVE FUN.

*This willingness develops with repeated exposure–I am obsessively modest in my professional life but practically exhibitionist around other dancers.

**A member of our group came out with this slightly cock-eyed yet very accurate description of stage makeup.

No matter what, it was a huge success and I’m sure the dancers learned much more by doing it than they ever would have from listening to us talk. Click through for rundown and videos…

behind the curtain

The “Merde” Thing, or Why Dancers are Full of S***

Post author By lauraet
Post date June 4, 2011
No Comments on The “Merde” Thing, or Why Dancers are Full of S***

This question has come up 3-4 times in the past 24 hours or less, so I figure it needs its own post. [Warning: contains a Rude Word!]

Dancers–specifically those who come out of a performing tradition such as ballet, jazz, tap, etc.–are a subset of theatre people. And theatre people are very superstitious, right up there with sports people. Here are some things that theatre and dance people do not do because they are bad luck:

speak the name of Shakespeare’s play Macbeth while in the theatre–they call it “the Scottish play”
whistle onstage or backstage
leave a stage completely dark (a single “ghost light” is always left on to appease or prevent ghosts)
wish each other “good luck”–this is the important one for our purposes.

It’s well known that instead of “good luck,” actors say “break a leg.” But for obvious reasons, you don’t say “break a leg” to a dancer. Dancers say “Merde,” which is the French word for “shit.” I’ve always assumed that the choice of “Merde” is just another reflection of the “it’s bad luck to say ‘good luck'” superstition. What could be farther from good luck? If you want a good story, though, Wikipedia explains that “Merde” goes back to the days when people arrived at the theatre in horse-drawn carriages. Lots of merde de cheval (horse shit) in front of the theatre indicated big crowds and thus a successful show; ergo, merde is good luck!

Regardless of its origins, I love this tradition. Partially because it makes me feel like a Theatre Person and/or Real Dancer, and partly because it is fun to have a license to use bad language in public. At our recital today, as at all of our studio’s recitals and performances, we had a “Merde Circle” in which all the dancers, even the tiny 4-year-olds, join hands and say “Merde!” to each other. Ms. Madison tells them that it’s not a very nice word to say but that it’s okay to say in dance because it means “good luck.” It probably takes them years to find out what it really means–last year, one of the high school girls didn’t know till I told her.

Now you know what to say to a dancer for good luck. I think we should make it our business to spread this tradition among ballroom dancers.

in other news

Dance as protest

NPR’s Scott Simon presented a commentary this morning about a planned meet-up/protest today at the Jefferson Memorial. Today’s event follows an appeals court ruling in May that upheld the National Park Service’s arrest of a woman and her friends in 2008. They were arrested for silently dancing at the Jefferson Memorial in celebration of Jefferson’s birthday; the arrest was on the grounds that dancing was at odds with the “atmosphere of solemn commemoration” around the national monuments. Today’s meet-up invites people to bring earbuds and, again, dance silently.

Scott Simon referenced the movie Footloose in his commentary and called John Lithgow, who played the anti-dancing minister in the movie. Lithgow commented that the meet-up would be a flash mob: “An almost meditative moment passing as a great party. It may be a spectacle, but that’s an act of creation.” What a great definition of what dancing is about in general. Dancing takes the meditation of lessons (formal, informal, whatever) and daily practice (also formal, informal, or whatever) and displays the fruits of that labor in a moment of spectacle. And that’s not necessarily at odds with solemn commemoration, either.

I understand what the Park Service was trying to do, but I respectfully suggest–as did Mr. Simon, in a different way–that when they arrested the original dancers, they did so out of a limited understanding of dance and what it can communicate. Dancing can be celebratory; it can be sexual; it can be disruptive. It can also be respectful, honorary, worshipful, solemn, elegant, and elegiac (and a bunch of other things). As someone who typically values the life of the mind over the fetishization of the body, I am not always at ease with the overtly sexual and celebratory aspects of dance myself–but that’s got more to do with me than with the nature of dance. I love the idea that dance can communicate complex messages in complex ways and in unexpected places, and maybe bridge some divides in the process.

The arrest of the original dancers is a stark reminder of how much courage it takes to dance in public in any context: leaving your friends along the gymnasium wall at your junior prom and getting out on the floor, or trying out some moves at a nightclub, or taking a class, or performing for an audience. Yesterday at dress rehearsal we heard a tiny girl, lining up to go onstage, say to her mother “I’m so scared.” She wasn’t hysterical; she wasn’t crying; she wasn’t trying to run or throw a tantrum. She was standing perfectly still and wide-eyed, confronting what she was about to do. Performing is an amazing high and a huge accomplishment, purchased at the cost of a big personal risk. What could be more intimate than moving your body in front of an audience, trying to communicate through your movements? I wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that our dance recital today, or our competitions, or our lessons & classes, are political acts. But I salute everybody who’s willing to take the risk, overcome their fear, and get out there, wherever “out there” may be. Merde to our dancers and to the crew at the Jefferson Memorial.

Ballerina Corner dance events exhibitions & performances teaching

Dress Rehearsal

This afternoon is dress rehearsal for the Madison Studio recital. Daniel and I are dancing 3 times: once on our own, once with our class, and once in the production finale. I am dancing 2 additional times: in my contemporary ballet class’s number (to Seal’s “Kiss from a Rose”) and then in that class’s part of the finale. You wouldn’t believe the amount of stuff I have to lug along with me today. It’s making a competition look like Casual Friday.

Costume for “Kiss”, including hair decoration that I swore I’d lost until I discovered it was pinned to the inside of the costume.
Costume for our class number, i.e. sequin camisole top and ballroom practice skirt.
Costume for Daniel’s and my solo, which is the rumba we did as a solo exhibition at Garden City Challenge.
Costume for the finale, i.e., black leotard and black ballet skirt.
2 pairs of tights (1x ballet pink, 1x fishnet).
Body liner, which is like underwear in leotard form.
3 pairs of shoes. Well, 2 pairs of shoes and one pair of “FootUndeez” (speaking of underwear).
Makeup, hair spray, bobby pins.

And I have it easy compared to some of the girls who are in the Performance Ensemble as well as 2-3 regular classes. They might need to employ pack animals! But as far as I’m concerned, it’s all worthwhile. Given my introverted tendencies in general, the fact that I love to perform doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but there it is. I am especially excited for our ballroom dancers who are having their first taste of performance. They have lots of family members coming to watch and cheer them on. Hooray!

The recital is tomorrow (Saturday, June 4) at 2 p.m. at Zuver Auditorium on the campus of Mount De Sales here in Macon. Tickets are available at the door for $10.

Wish us merde!*

*Being superstitious like all theatre people, dancers do not say “good luck.” For obvious reasons, they also do not say “Break a leg.” Instead, they–we–say “merde.” Which is a bad word in French, which is why it’s so much fun to hear 8-year-olds say it.

Ballerina Corner competitions exhibitions & performances in other news lessons teaching

Conservation of Dance Momentum

Post author By lauraet
Post date May 26, 2011
2 Comments on Conservation of Dance Momentum

A body that is dancing tends to continue dancing unless acted on by an outside force. In the absence of outside forces (spring semester ended on May 6; congratulations, Class of 2011!), we have been dancing a lot and doing a lot of dance-related stuff in the last several days. Since I haven’t had to teach I’ve been going to four ballet classes a week at Madison Studio: my usual twice-a-week “Pearls” class (average age: 11, focused on beginning pointe work and trying to remember which is croisé and which is effacé) plus two adult classes which, despite being ostensibly for beginners, serve to demonstrate that one can never spend too much time working on the basics. All this ballet is having several salubrious effects, including finally loosening up the hamstring I pulled a few months ago and keeping me from going insane as I work on revisions to my book manuscript.

We are still working on our paso doble; on Monday we went over the videos we recorded in our last lesson with Eddie and just repeated, repeated, repeated the steps without even trying to get up to tempo. This video that a friend sent me earlier today demonstrates just how far up “up to tempo” actually is.

No lesson this past weekend, but on Sunday we had an all-studio blocking rehearsal at Madison Studio for the recital on June 4. Having the entire population of the studio in one place at one time was an impressive exercise! It was our dancers’ first time doing their recital piece for any kind of audience and they did great. We also managed to remember our rumba routine despite not having done it for a while. The real high point was running the “production finale” in which every class appears, one after the other, and dances a short additional routine. Lots of us are in more than one class, so there was a lot of dashing from one side of the studio to the other, hurried changing of shoes, and general crowd control. The ballroom dancers also had a good laugh at the “FootUndeez” I wear for the contemporary ballet number I’m dancing in. Yes, they look like panties for your feet. Hence the name. Can we all just move on now? (Okay, they are pretty funny, especially the ones I’ve seen that have a little pink net tutu ruffle around the elastic part.)

After regular classes on Monday (Pearls class, paso practice with Daniel, ballroom class) and adult class Tuesday at noon, the ballroom group reconvened at the studio on Tuesday evening to get pictures taken. The marvelous Keiko Guest (check out the “Fine Art” side of her site for sure, but a couple of those may not be SFW) comes to the studio once a year to take individual pictures of everyone in their recital costumes. She brings along a staff of 3 or 4 people, a small photography-studio setup (lights, background, even one of those fans to make your hair blow around and look glamorous), and more computer equipment than I ever thought possible. In less than an hour we had lined up to wait, had a jolly time getting our photos taken, and looked at our proofs to order prints. The pictures were amazingly good and I can’t wait to get the prints. Ms. Guest is a former dancer herself, so she understands what good lines look like and how to adjust people’s positions so that on film, we look like better dancers than we probably really are! Daniel and I had a lot of fun coming up with poses for ourselves and then inflicting them on our other two couples. The best part was taking some shots of all 6 of us together. She somehow made us all look attractive and dancerly while crammed into about 4 square feet of space on her backdrop.

So it’s been a great couple of weeks, and the beat goes on. This evening we’re dancing at Pinegate with the performance ensemble from Madison, then on Saturday we have a lesson from Eddie. And today we got a call from another retirement community here in town, wanting us to schedule a performance. AND…according to the counter on their website, Gumbo is just 5 days away. I’m pleased to report that the counter is not accurate!

comp diary lessons

Comp Diary: There is no bull.

Post author By lauraet
Post date May 15, 2011
2 Comments on Comp Diary: There is no bull.

Yesterday we started learning a Paso Doble routine in our lesson with Eddie. Daniel is especially excited about the paso because it requires good posture and sharp movements: he feels like it will help him improve his technique in our other dances. Plus, he loves exhibition-style routines with lots of eye-catching, dramatic moves. We entered Open Paso Doble for the competition in Baton Rouge, hoping we would have the routine ready to go by mid-June. That may or may not happen! We learned enough steps on Saturday that we can get through a 90-second heat, but it’s a pretty challenging dance. The steps are not too complex and the routine is not complicated. The hard part is the musical phrasing. In other competition dances, as long as you start on the “one” (i.e., 5-6-7-8-ONE), you’re generally okay. It’s perfectly acceptable to wait a couple of bars and make sure you catch the beat before starting off. Paso doble music, on the other hand, is very structured. Yesterday, Daniel asked Eddie where in the music we have to start. We were a little intimidated when we found out that we have to start on 3. As in, the third beat after the song starts. Silence–one–two–GO. If we start wrong, or if we don’t get the timing right during the routine, then we’re irrevocably in the weeds. So that’s pretty scary. On the other hand, I get to do a tour jete, which is awesome.

Here’s some competition paso from a few years ago, using the music that is almost always used for paso doble:

And here’s an exhibition paso:

It is cool to watch these top-level dancers and see them doing the same steps we are learning (albeit doing them a lot better!). We are in a little over our heads, but we are challenging ourselves and we’re motivated to improve, so it will come. Will it come by June 17? Not sure. I am still hopeful.

And remember: the man is the matador. The woman is the cape. And there is no bull.

teaching

Move aside and let the man go through

Post author By lauraet
Post date May 12, 2011
12 Comments on Move aside and let the man go through

I’ve seen this phenomenon time and again with adult learners, regardless of what they are learning. But I never thought it would happen to me.

See, I’m in this contemporary dance class at my studio. It’s pretty advanced and very choreography-focused. Physically, I can keep up. But I’ve never had contemporary before and it’s been a while since I’ve had to remember choreo that wasn’t also being filtered through my partner. Our routine for the annual recital involves a lot of changes of formation and direction and other spatial stuff that, in combination with the intricate steps, causes my brain to emit a continuous high-pitched whine of anxiety. “EEEEEEEEEEEE I CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT TO DO NEXT AND I AM GETTING IT ALL WRONG AND EEEEEEEEEEEE.” I’ve been trying to keep all that on the inside, figure it out as we go, and not take up too much time asking our teacher to review. I thought if I could just do it enough times and inobtrusively watch the others, I would pick it up. That worked, mostly, but in a couple of places we are moving in circles, turning around, or transitioning in groups so that I’m not even sure who to watch and follow. And recital is now just a couple of weeks away. “EEEEEEEEEEEEE IMPENDING DOOM EEEEEEEEEEEE.”

Last night, I was saved. Our teacher had to reset part of the routine because one dancer had to drop out at the last minute. The reworked part happened to be one of the parts I was having the most trouble with. Teacher also asked me if I wanted her to review my other problem area. I somehow went into this anxiety-driven monologue about bursting into flames on the stage, and the class picked it up and constructed a hilarious narrative in which I turned into a phoenix. Then we went over Hard Part #1 and I felt better about it. Later I confessed that I was still having to watch people during Hard Part #2 to know what to do, and Teacher said that was fine, I could watch someone till I got it.

And then, at the end of the class, we ran the routine one more time, and something weird happened: EVERYTHING WAS FINE. I did Hard Part #1, no problem, and although I think I was standing in the wrong place at one point during Hard Part #2, I did not, in fact, burst into flames. By the time we get through next week’s class, blocking rehearsal next Sunday, and dress rehearsal before recital, I will definitely be in good shape.

After class I told Teacher that venting all my anxiety about not understanding the routine seemed to have helped. As I told her, “I think I was concentrating so hard on not knowing the routine that I drowned out the fact that I actually know the routine.” She, God bless her, did not shake her head sadly at my insanity but in fact said she’d had the same experience in the past. I was getting in my own way. I see it with people learning to dance all the time. They are doing a step perfectly well, but they think they are making a mistake, so they stop.

As adults, we have a hard time doing things badly. We want to stop and make sure before we forge ahead and potentially look foolish. But constantly playing defense against mistakes means not finding out how much we’re actually capable of when we commit fully to trying something new. The brain is so focused on self-monitoring that it can’t fully concentrate on the main task: dancing! It’s understandable that in partner dancing, a person would be particularly concerned about doing everything correctly–that person is not the only one at risk if something goes wrong. Still, which is worse: always holding back for fear of stepping on someone’s foot, or stepping on them once and getting it over with? When the mistake is made, you know you have found the boundary. You can go right up to that edge the next time, without going over it.

I don’t get this right all the time either. But last night was a powerful reminder. Get out of your own way and you’ll find out that you know more/can do more/can dance better than you think.