Mail is welcome.
gryffyn@there.net | index of journals | home
|
Tired. Wired. Try for bed now - at least read. Night bright from dancer's Lines Sweeping, glowing Supple men Long sassy women I gasped at the comination of choreography and light
The speed of
Heather Shaw (More dance commentary later today.) The Lines Contemporary Ballet was astounding. Supple, luminous, dark, twisty, sweeping lines of exquisite dancing. Familiar moves that swept by so fast they created bent images of ballet classics, imprinting the idea of them on my brain. The sweeping limbs of the dancers seemed to glow from within in a golden sepia light thanks to the lighting designers gasp-inspiring artistry. Amazing. I stayed afterwards to listen to Alonzo King's question and answer session, which he began with the ominous phrase, "Here it is, the obligatory answer session . . . what? Oh, well, you get to leave if you like." He was an incredibly soft-spoken man, but that does not mean he did not speak with power. I don't remember the questions, but the askers seemed to know what to ask: he spoke of an inner life, an inner world that one must have in order to have peace. "The world is polluted enough; you need to build your inner castle and live there," . . . where you have control, are safe, have peace and a space to create without destruction. He told how he is interested in construction, and reminded us to stay out of the way of things and let them create themselves. I couldnt resist talking to him afterwards. "Mr. King, I would just like to shake your hand, please." "Sure." "I really enjoyed your work tonight. It was amazing; transforming; I had tears in my eyes at intermission. And I really liked what you said about the inner castle; you explain life in such a beautiful way, easy to grok." "Thank you. I wish I'd spoken better."
"Oh, no! The cold makes you even more human; the dancing was in the
words, not how they were said." "What's your name?" "Heather" "Hi Heather; you are an artist?" I nodded, "I'm a writer." "You're an artist; writing is art." "I know. But I danced as a child and I still find dance to be the most inspiring, the most moving art forms out there. Oh, I love what you do with the sweeping lines and the extremely fast, intricate movements that blur the edges and the energy and lines presented on your stage... it was tremendously moving." He seemed to be listening to my specifics, and nodding in agreement with me. He liked some of the same things about what he created. Not surprising. Still, he made me feel as if he hadn't heard all this so many times before. He spoke some more about his belief in the inner castle and I was the one to quit the conversation (to give someone coming up a chance and not to keep Alonzo). I was radiant the whole way home. Jeff really dug on my energy on the way home. "It's great to see you like this." "It's great to be like this, to feel like this again. I feel . . possible again; I used to feel this way, but I haven't felt this way in years . . ." "Possible is a good way to feel." I rattled on about the novel idea that kept me up last night, and the play, movie, soundtrack and ballet spinoffs of the same idea. He was entirely into it. Hell, I could probably get him to write the music to the ballet if I write it well enough. I think he likes manic Heather; of course, manic Heather goes manic in hyper-creative ways; depressive Heather can sometimes sew to mimic manic Heather, but can not reach such a great diversity of craft/talent/projects. Possible again.
| ||
| Previous
| Next List of Entries for this Month | Journal Index | Current Entry Home |