Foxtrot

Ok, the foxtrot is harder than it looks. But the music is awesome, and the "feather step" is really cool, provided you can do it with a modicum of grace. That's about all I managed, a modicum. Here are some great foxtrot songs: September In The Rain (Brenda Lee) I Had Someone Else Before I Had You (Damita Jo) I Don't Know Enough About You (Peggy Lee) By the way, trying to figure out ballroom dance steps from written instructions is darned near impossible. The directions only make sense after you already know what to do. I've never believed in writing down movement; there are so many subtleties, the only complete way to record it is visually. There is some value in writing down choreography, but only inasmuch as it reminds you of the movement. I don't believe that the spirit of a dance can be captured on paper. (Which is an odd thing to say, given that I'm writing about dance! But notice, no paper....)

You learn something new every day

Last night I was initiated into the mysteries of The Waltz, International Standard-style. It was fun! Now all I need is to bleach my hair and get one of those dresses with ridiculous amounts of feathers on the hem. The syllabus according to the US Amateur Ballroom Dancers Association shows that I learned some of the basic moves (2, 3, and 4, maybe 1):

Pre-Bronze 1. Closed Changes 2. Natural Turn 3. Reverse Turn 4. Natural Spin Turn 5. Whisk 6. Chasse from Promenade Position

So I'm not yet ready to compete - the three competition levels appear to be Bronze, Silver, and Gold, with Gold being the most advanced. Some of the movement names are intriguing; for instance, I'd really like to know what "Open Telemark & Cross Hesitation" or "Hover Corte" mean. Ballroom dancing has been acknowledged as a sport by the International Olympic Committee, but it has not yet been approved as an official Olympic sport. It's apparently still possible that it could be an official Olympic sport in 2012. That gives me plenty of time to practice!

How do your emotions color your perceptions of a performance?

Something I said in my comments on Contemporary Baroque got me thinking: "One might think that the fast movement from Summer (Four Seasons) was overused, but Mercury Baroque's performance of it combined with my own jumbled feelings that evening made it fresh and pertinent." What would my reaction have been if I'd been in a different mood? This is a question for you, dear readers (is anyone out there?); post a comment describing any time a performance touched upon some current theme in your life. For me it was Vivaldi's aural depiction of the fury of a summer thunderstorm that matched my own swirling, strong emotions. The dancers seemed the perfect visual realization of the music, their energy and momentum ranging widely yet governed by well defined laws. A slightly different example of altered perception: In college, I saw a performance of James Joyce's Finnegans Wake by Pilobolus. (By the way, Pilobolus will be here April 29!) There was a scene where, if I remember correctly, a woman was attached to a pulley up above by a rope, and the man dancing with her manipulated her up and down using the rope, their movements slow and gentle. It struck me as a beautiful expression of someone supporting and nurturing someone they love. I discovered later it was meant to represent something darker and more violent (I'll have to dig up the paper I wrote to find out what). But without being familiar with the story of Finnegans Wake, I took away something entirely different than what the choreographer intended.

Contemporary Baroque (Dominic Walsh Dance Theater), January 8, 2005, Hobby Center's Zilkha Hall

This collaboration by Dominic Walsh Dance Theater and Mercury Baroque was phenomenal and really raised the bar for contemporary dance in Houston. The program consisted of four new works by four separate choreographers set to the music of Vivaldi, Handel, and Bach, which was performed on period instruments and in a musical style contemporary to the composers. In that sense, the name of the program is a double entendre, because while the music was performed a la 17th and 18th centuries, the goal of the program was, in the words of Dominic Walsh, "[to stimulate] these up-and-coming choreographers to take a fresh look at baroque music." Disclaimer: the rest of this review has become a victim of my crazy life/work schedule. Here are some abbreviated thoughts on the individual dances: Bacchus's Cup (choreography by Lauri Stallings) This was may favorite piece of the night, perhaps because it had the clearest structure. Seven dancers (4 men, 3 women) performed four energetic sections to music by Vivaldi. The two lasting visions of this piece are a lame duck turn ending with an extension to arabesque performed flawlessly not once but twice by Lindsey McGill, and several moments in the final section where the entire cast jumped up at the same time - simple, but amazingly powerful. I loved the costumes, which were dusty rose tops and pants occasionally covered with what looked like petticoats (on men and women alike!). One might think that the fast movement from Summer (Four Seasons) was overused, but Mercury Baroque's performance of it combined with my own jumbled feelings that evening made it fresh and pertinent. Kudos also to the lighting designer, Nicholas Phillips, for turning the stage into a space. Quartett Letters (choreography by Mario Zambrano, music by Jo. Seb. Bach) Touching dancing between Dominic Walsh and Paola Georgudis, supported by four "ghosts" in white costumes. Some of the dancing was accompanied by spoken words from "the world's greatest letters." Note to costume designer: don't put white satin pajama bottoms on anyone less slim than these dancers. First Try Second Chance (choreography by Ayman Aaron Harper, music by Vivaldi) Not really my thing, although I enjoyed parts of it. I can't remember enough now to say what, though. Bello (choreography by Dominic Walsh, music by Handel) Sara Webb is my favorite dancer with Houston Ballet, and I love to watch anything she does, but in this concert she looked curiously out of place. The preceding pieces were performed by dancers who clearly had strong ballet training but also had developed a contemporary line. Ms. Webb, while gorgeous, looked a bit the bunhead by comparison. If this piece had come first on the program, I doubt it would have struck me that way. This piece bore curious resemblance to Stanton Welch's offering in the Cullen Contemporary Series last fall, Blindness. Partly it was the costumes (the dancers resembled dressmaker's dummies) and partly the same atmosphere of intimacy between couples. Overall I liked this piece better, although I would need to see it again to discern a theme; the sections seemed somewhat disconnected. I thoroughly enjoyed the placement of the counter tenor Gerrod Pagenkopf on stage, as I could hear his lovely voice directly, rather than echoing out of the pit. Yes, I finally broke the Zilkha Hall curse!