"Dear Friends..."

Disclaimer: I'm not dead. Just juggling many many projects, the combination of which has put a dent in my blogging mojo. One of those projects was Letters You Wrote...

...which we performed last night. It was really a nifty and fun experience from start to finish-- our choreographer and myself are the only dancers left from the "original" cast (of the ill-fated December performance); the second time around we were joined by P (whom I hadn't danced with before) and A. Since most of the show was solo work, we didn't all work together at first...until it was time to block out the scene for my letter (affectionately known as "The Christmas Dance"). Once we all started rehearsing together, though; we had a blast.

A, P, and S played my character Beth's "children," and for being three adult women they were astoundingly good at being children. We played up the physical comedy aspect where we could-- I think our favorite "bit" was when I had one of the kids "blow her nose" into a tissue, which I then unceremoniously tossed at one of the actors on stage left (Later: "Hey man, thanks for letting me throw my fake-kid's fake-snotrag at you.").
There were also some segments where they would interrupt my solo dance with typical childlike antics-- trying to get Mom's attention, horsing around, harassing each other-- which would always disrupt Beth's otherwise-cheerful disposition. It was the choreography's way of contrasting the perky-perfect tone of the letter with the more realistic stresses of....oh, I dunno, HAVING SIX KIDS.

Cut to: Yesterday! We were performing downtown in the Magnolia Ballroom, which is A) a pretty popular destination for weddings, and B) HOLY HELL MICHIGAN GORGEOUS. We were performing with the windows behind us.....making our backdrop a view of downtown Houston at night. S gave us a warm-up class in the performance space, we walked through my scene, did our pre-sets, and disembarked to our hairspray tent dressing room to get ready (the most complicated part of that? Getting my hair up. I had to wear it piled on my head in a 60's-style pouf, which...is not easy when you have astroturf-thick hair like I do).

Cut to: Showtime! I wasn't on until the very end, so I kept myself moving and helped the other girls with quick-changes. Once it kicked into action, the show went amazingly fast...the next thing I knew, it was Christmas in 1961.

The kid scenes all went really well. I felt pretty good about my solo stuff, for the most part. There's a section in the middle where I do a lot of jerky, frantic movements standing in one place that...well, let's say it didn't feel as strong that night as it had in the past.

We had a lovely reception afterwards, and we all got some really wonderful compliments and feedback from audience members. I chatted with a lot of buddies from around the arts scene, met a very famous former ballet teacher from Houston, and one of my students came with her mom! That was pretty special (always is). I introduced her to S and the other dancers; she and her mother said they really enjoyed the show.

Before we went on, the four of us had a group hug and S told us that we were "so fun to work with." We all concurred that this project was-- in the interest of not mincing words-- fun and awesome, all the way around. I'm so glad to have been a part of it.

Escaped from the 60's and Dancing Through The Crowd

About last night...

We had a wonderful turnout at our Cultured Cocktails event. I saw a lot of faces from the Houston arts scene, including people I danced with in a previous dance company and in the Fringe Festival. I even got to meet one of the women who contributed a letter.

We dancers were milling around in our period-specific costumes the entire time, mingling with the crowd and getting people excited about the show. We began dancing at 7:30. Though we had space in the front to dance, we were encouraged to use the rest of the space as well, dancing through the crowd and interacting with patrons. S and P were completely adorable together, making the crowd laugh with their cutesy 1950's duet. A was absolutely beautiful dancing to her 1961 love letter, and did a hilarious "drunk" bit in the middle (her letter mentions something about attending a cocktail party). I was second to dance, and I had a great time. I used mostly balletic movements, and played up my character like crazy, which the audience loved. I also interacted with people as I moved through the crowd-- my character is a mother of six(!), so I'd wag my finger at people, or pretend to adjust someone's hat or pat someone on the head. Even though I was a little on edge going into to it, once I got up there I just had fun.

I met some wonderful people last night as well. I had a long conversation with a guy who works for a film and video studio-- I told him about a project I'm thinking of creating, and he told me to call him if I decide to take it forward. I chatted with some people I worked with last summer, and Frank and I had a long conversation about dance and our careers. All in all, it was a great night.

Thanks to all who came out and supported us. We enjoyed your company, and we hope to see you in March at our show!

The Blue Comet

(Photos courtesy of my cell phone. That explains the lamentable quality. Sorry.)

Well folks, it's all done.

I was at the theater for the matinee, and watched part of the show from the audience. It was neat to see it from the front-- I saw a bunch of things that I never really noticed from inside the action.
When I got to the theater for the final show, I was a little nervous. I sewed myself into my pointe shoes and tacked down my wig, then joined the rest of the company onstage for our warm-up.

While A was nervous before the opening performance, I was nervous before the closing show-- to the point where I kept reminding myself to "JUST CHILL OUT ALREADY, CASSIE." I paced around onstage, ran though choreography, and exchanged "Merde[s]" with other dancers. After we circled up to do our pre-show prayer I was much calmer, and when I took my place at downstage left I had a smile on my face. I was ready.
I could not have had a more beautiful final performance. I felt my energy go through the roof, A and I really connected and played off one another's energy-- it was probably my strongest performance of Amahl that I've performed. The kings were magnificent, E and Frank were just a-dorable in their pas de deux, and before I knew it, it was over. My last time dancing Amahl, my last performance with the company.
We had our talk-back with the audience after the show, where we discussed what performing in the show meant to us and what we felt some of the "lessons" of the ballet were. Afterwards, the dancers cheered and exchanged high-fives and congratulations-you-were-awesomes. Our director told A and I that she had been sitting in the back of the theater and "could read everything we did" and that it was beautiful.

Back in the dressing room, we talked excitedly and exchanged hugs. I thanked our director for letting me dance Amahl again and for all the opportunities she has given me in these last three seasons. I also told E-- my long-time partner in crime-- that I would miss her like crazy.
I felt emotional and almost sad saying goodbye, but the thing is-- and I never really told anyone this, until now-- I have known since October that Amahl would be my last show. I won't go into my reasons, because they are too personal to blog... but I wanted to go out on the show that I came in on, and I wanted to go out on a good note. My final performances of Amahl were the best I could have asked for, and for that I feel both thankful and blessed.

I stopped to visit Sozeberg on my way home. He asked how the show went (Me: "Fabulous!") and said "So you're done, huh? The end of an era." I said "True. But a whole new one will begin in a few weeks. It's a transition, all right."And now, here's your moment of Zen:

"That's what SNL was for me, it was a giant hair shirt. Don't get me wrong-- I had some great times there, God bless them...This is how I encapsulate it: I feel like the Native American who accepted the pox-infested blanket from the U.S. Calvary. 'For me? Thank you! ...uh, I don't feel so good.'"
~ Janeane Garofalo, 1995

Notes from 'Amahl'

We assembled at the theater at noon to start getting into makeup. LP gave us all makeup advice; C and A worked on their "Mother" makeup as LP and I transformed ourselves into little boys. I stapled my wig onto my head and sewed myself into my pointe shoe; the company warmed up together onstage. After warm-up, Cast B had a few minutes to get into costume for a pre-show dress run.

The run went very well, aside from a few slip-ups (e.g. I almost fell off The Page's back during the fight scene). After that, we had all of thirty minutes to re-group before the opening performance. A was nervous-- we both had a pretty strong dress rehearsal not even an hour ago, is that a bad omen for the opening show? I didn't feel too nervous at the time-- I touched up my makeup, went onstage to run through some stuff during the curtain speech, gave A a hug and told her we'd be swell/we'd be great...

...that is, until the curtain speech ended and the overture began. Sitting there in my opening pose, I must have crossed myself at least four times. And then the curtain went up, and then the show began.

It was magnificent.

A and I were both amazed at how easy it was, how much fun we had, how much we both melded into our characters-- for an hour, we stopped being two dancers and became a concerned mother and her flighty young son. We bounced our energies off of each other and off of the three Kings; everyone had a wonderful rapport onstage, nobody fell down, all the props were where they needed to be, all the extras were adorable, and it was all over really, really quickly.

No, I mean, it was over really quickly. After I exited following my final solo (which went swimmingly, by the way), I just though to myself "Wow, it's over?"
Of course, it isn't/wasn't-- we had our curtain call (wild applause!) and talk-back, and the performers hung around onstage to talk to audience members. All in all, we got wonderful feedback from audience, cast and crew, it was a fun show, and Cast B has one more go at it tonight.

We had about a two-hour break before we met at the theater for the evening performance-- Cast A's show. The company took class together onstage, ran through whatever was needed, and Cast A got themselves ready. A and I hung out in our dressing room and watched the show on the monitor-- it was sort of like Girl's Night/Movie Night, only at work. Our counterparts performed beautifully; C and LP are a wonderful Amahl/Mother duet and they took in a lot of applause.

Today's the last day. We all meet for company class at noon; Cast A performs the matinee and we [Cast B] perform in the evening, the last show. This is my twelfth and final performance with [Awesome People] Dance Company, and there's a small part of me that can't believe it's over already.

"Alright, already, we'll all float on.."

Yes, We Did

Hello, Internet! It's been a while, has it not? I'm still internetless (which means that I have to, like, be productive at home. GAH), so I only get online at work or at coffee shops.

So, first off: Frank was in a car accident, but he's okay. He's a little bruised up, but he was there to perform with us on Friday. Thank you, God.

Si Se Puede was last weekend, and it was lovely. Even though our student matinee was a little hard (The floor was slippery, I thought I was going to fall off the stage during Prayer for the Farm Worker, and LP got hurt), we had a FABULOUS little student audience. They had so much enthusiasm and energy, cheering like crazy before the show even started-- but as soon as the lights went down and P made the entrance for the opening solo, they were dead quiet. And after we hit our final pose in Prayer, they screamed for us the way Springsteen fans scream for The Boss (also, they seemed to like me a lot. A lot of them directed questions at me during the talkback).
Our Friday evening show was lovely. Saturday....oh, Saturday night was the best. I felt like I was going to explode with all the energy and joy. Everything was just so, so perfect. I've said it before and I'll say it again-- we are one strong, fabulous group.

So now we're getting ready to dance Misa Criolla this weekend. I really love this ballet. We performed part of it in Si Se Puede, but I can't wait to dance the full piece. It's so pretty and fun. We learned the last section at the beginning of the week-- the Credo-- and it's a blast. I love it!

Speaking of rehearsals, I've got to dash off to mine. A tout à l'heure, patineurs.

Death Monkey: The Series Finale

(I swear this is the last of the monkey business here.)

These two photos were taken by Anthony Rathbun (thanks, Anthony!). You can see more of his work here, and I highly reccommend that you do (he's also responsible for some awesome photos of me from a show called Outside). Check it out!

Crazy Dancing Death Monkey Part II: Photos!

(Alternate title: "Updating Because I Got An Email From My Mom Demanding that I Just Update Already, and When Mama Butterfly Tells You to Post You Better Get On It")

Here are some photos that Ted Viens took of Pain, Pleasure, and a Bunny Rabbit. Ted is awesome, he took videos for my dance ensemble back in the day, and he supports every company in this here city. You can view more of his work here.

Waiting in the "cage" at the top of the show.

Being set free.

Yes, I am scratching my armpits. That is what monkeys do.

My favorite jumps (can't you tell?)

Girl, you just got SHOT.

The final song, where we all come back to life all demonic-like.

Two more coming tomorrow. Stay tuned!

Crazy Dancing Death Monkey

I find it hugely ironic that just four days ago I made a comment about how dancers are so glamorous onstage, "with all our pretty costumes, makeup, and slicked-down hair;" and then I spent the weekend dressed like a monkey.

This weekend, a bunch of us performed Pain Pleasure, and a Bunny Rabbit as part of a Fringe Festival. It was fun, and I got a chance to work with some really great people. Here's the gist of it: A father takes his three daughters hunting at a cage farm (where you select an animal from a cage, it gets set loose, and you shoot it. Kind of like what Dick Cheney does, but without lawyers). The owner of the cage farm was played by the same actor/musician who provided our music. The animals in question were a bunny rabbit, a frog, a monkey, a cat, Bob Hope, a butterfly, and a bird; we danced until we got shot down multiple times (except for B. Hope, who told awful jokes until the audience started yelling "Shoot him!"). At the end we all come back to life as demons, and...well, rocks fall and everyone dies. ;-) It was one of the more unusual pieces I've been in, and IT WAS SO MUCH FUN.

The hunting family was pretty awesome-- our director played the Dad, and each of the three daughters (a girly-girl, a goth, and a gun-happy lesbian) had their own song (two of them even had their small dogs onstage) and bickered throughout the show. We also had trees on the stage-- not set pieces, mind you, but actors dressed in green and holding signs that read "I'M A TREE."

(See?)

During the final song (where we turn into demons), a set of keys fell out of an actor's pocket. I grabbed them up and weiled them like weapons, so I was an armed crazy dancing death monkey on Friday (Saturday I grabbed a fallen "I'm a tree" sign and started hitting people with it. Staged violence-- it's fun!)

************

The Fest was hosted by a company that I used to dance with (I mentioned them on here as "Company B" a long time ago) in their theater. I have danced in that place/on that very stage thousands of times before; but I hadn't been there in over a year and a half and the place had been completely renovated since then (and it looks amazing). I felt weird going there after all this time-- nervous, even-- but it was still a fabulous experience, and I got to meet/work with some really great people. The audience really liked the play, someone on Twitter referred to our director as "a genius," and I would totally love to work with those folks again. Thanks, guys!

Flashbacks:In Loving Memory

It was our last day of Si Se Puede '08. We had two student matinees in the morning, and then an evening performance.

After the matinees, I checked my phone. There was a voicemail from my friend Lucius up north, and he was crying. CRYING. I had never heard this guy cry before, not once in my life. I listened to the voicemail. Thirty seconds later, I was crying as well.

I spent the rest of the day in a haze. I went back to my apartment in Montrose, made lunch, surfed 4chan in hopes of finding something, anything to make me laugh. Nothing did. Finally, at 5pm, I set out to TBH for our final performance.

My buddy V was already at the theatre, and we got to work folding programs for the night's performance. I told him that I found out a friend had passed. He asked how it happened, and I suddenly got quiet.
V: "She didn't hurt herself, did she?"
Me: *gulp* "Yes. She did."

I tried to get my mind off it. I warmed up with the rest of the company, a ballet barre on the stage. I laughed and joked with my fellow dancers. But when we circled up to do our pre-show prayer, it was all I could do to keep from crying my ever-loving eyes out.

I danced my first piece without a hitch, then spent the rest of Act I pacing around backstage, wondering "WhywhywhywhywhyWHY?" I decided I wanted to make a dance in her memory, because Lord knows that's all I know how to do in these situations (well...that, and bring beer to the surviving family. I'm pretty sure I would make a terrible bereavement counselor).

V came offstage and found me, still pacing. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

He gave me a hug. "This next dance is for your friend."

I couldn't have said it better.

We miss you, Celi.

Wonderful, Wonderful (Updated!)

"And that's a wrap!"

Oh, Wonderland. It was blissful, beautiful, and exciting. I'm exhausted but deliriously happy: it was a spendiferous production, I'm both blessed and thankful to have been a part of it.

I'd elaborate, but I'm beat! Stay tuned for our fourteenth and final installment of this blog's Wonderland adventure, coming sometime tomorrow.

***** (Update Time!) *****

The open dress rehearsal went off without a hitch. I got video of the first section of Act V-- my Guards, Cards, and Roses-- and during the break my Mom and I watched it while we ate dinner at Moe's. I was happy once I saw it on video-- watching from the back of the theater brought about the usual self-deprecation of This Does Not Look Nearly As Cool On The Stage As I Had Imagined. Seeing it on the video put it in perspective and made me feel better.

We returned to the theater at 4pm for the Dance Awards. Man, you have never seen such well-dressed little dancers. I thought I was dressed up, but compared to some of these kiddos I may as well been wearing pajamas made of duct tape:

(Why yes, my dress is cut low enough to violate the BYU Honor Code, why do you ask?)

The Dance Awards were quick and rather lovely: Dancers acknowledged for years of study and other special honors such as scholarships and summer intensive. Then the curtain closed and everybody scattered to their dressing rooms, because IT'S SHOWTIME!
Cut to: Curtain. Whee! My little opening scene (called "The Lesson") was just adorable, the white rabbit was hilarious as all get-out, and the audience "Awwww"ed spectacularly at my Little Clocks.

After that.....it was a bit of a blur. The show moved amazingly fast, and I was choreographer-slash-backstage-runner so I didn't catch certain dances. Little Alice was adorable (and looked exactly like Big Alice. I mean, exactly), I loved the TweedleDuo (they danced to the Robbie Williams version of "Me and my Shadow," which I am now completely in love with), and the flower garden scene was lovely and cute.
Alice's variation was lovely... and the Caterpillar! Oh, the Caterpillar. It was stupendous. I was so happy. Chesire Cat was awesome, a funky little scene that I enjoyed putting together (and enjoyed watching even more!)
By the way, the Big Alice was ten kinds of fabulous. She grew so much as a dancer and a performer during this process, had great presence, and looked the part exactly (unlike her Emergency Backup, aka Yours Truly The Short and Dark-haired). I'm so glad she recovered in time to dance the part.

I got to see the Mad Hatter/March Hare/Doormouse dance, which was hysterical-- the little Mouse even crossed the stage in a teacup. It was built onto a scooter, and was awesome. After that....well, after that it was time to start organizing people for the finale, so I really didn't see much of the show after that. I did get to see my Guards and my Cards, though (and yes, per my earlier calculations, that little King of Hearts stole the crap out of the show). I also got to see part of the fight scene-- the final showdown between the Royal Family and Alice. The music was to "Chariots of Fire" and included a sloooow-mo combat sequence, complete with the little King doing a slow-motion "NOOOOOO!" The audience was roaring, it was so well-done.

And then it was running running running, is everybody in line for the finale, where is soandso and suchandsuch, has anyone seen--Oh oh, FINALE! HERE WE GO!

It was fabulous. It was all over way too quickly. And it was perfect.

(I ended up with six bunches of flowers from the kiddos, because they are awesome. Also, notice that Mama B has butterflies on her shirt. That was intentional.)

Dear Wonderland: It's been a great ride.

A Beautiful Finish

Wow, folks, it's been a heck of a weekend. We've got lots to talk about, so let's get started.

I had a photo shoot on Saturday afternoon, and when I got to the theatre I was still in full makeup (complete with false eyelashes) and super-curly "bride hair." My fellow dancers are not used to seeing me done up as such, so there were quite a few double-takes being done:After scrambling to flatten my hair out into a bun, we assembled together onstage for class and to mark through a few things. There's a certain vibe about the pre-performance company class; the mood is relaxed; everyone is centering their minds for performance and preparing their bodies. Light-hearted banter floats back and forth between the barres along with different medlies of groans, giggles, and joints popping. It didn't feel, to me, like the last show; it was weird to think that hey, this is probably the last time I'll dance this piece until the fall season. Warm-up ends, pre-set costume changes and props, fix makeup, re-do my bun, re-do my bun again, put on first costume, group prayer, here we go.

The interesting thing about this program-- this time around, anyway-- is that it goes super fast. I think because the order of ceremonies was essentially "dance, change during the next piece, dance again." One piece to change costumes, get backstage, and be ready to go on....if you're lucky. For a few folks in particular, the schedule was "dance, change in the wings holycraprightfreakingnow between dances, dance again." Dancers in [Awesome People] Dance Company can change clothes faster than Clark Kent can turn into Superman.

I was anxious to get going because I was bouncing off the walls, nearly radiating with some kind of explosive energy, and was ready to get onstage and put it to some use. Once again, my nose wouldn't stop running during Marketplace; but the energy at the end of the piece was so high that I nearly ended up on the ground at the end, when all the dancers are connected and whipping each other forward and back as we move across the stage (It's so fun). Zapatos is a favorite of mine, particularly the big group canon at the end. I love the movement; once I got it into my body it felt so natural. The music is in that section is gorgeous, too, I didn't even mind getting it stuck in my head after every show. The last piece was new-- created by the group, as a group, ten days before we opened. It's light-hearted contemporary movement, very playful in sections, and the music (Bruce Cockburn on guitar) is so uplifting you kind of have no choice other than to grin like an idiot the entire time. It's over quickly, too; when we hit those last three movements in unison and the audience went nuts, I thought "It's over already?"
After the show was the talkback with the audience and our little cast party-- an event that featured pizza, beer, the invention of the word "beersploded (as in, "I went to open my drink and it beersploded all over my shirt")," and a video- viewing of the show we did at the Miller last spring. We gathered in the theater to watch it on the projector, making comments on the dances/dancing the entire time. It was very MST3K, but with heavy use of the words "dude" and "awesome" by Yours Truly. I finally saw what our performance of Double Takes looked like, and was relatively pleased; and the ladies of the last piece, Ramble, were AMAZING. Watching that show brought back so many wonderful memories of a beautiful and incredible night.
At one point, our stage mananger and one of the dancers disappeared....several minutes later, our stage manager returned wearing a giant full-body Tigger costume. Photos were taken, videos were taken, and their was much shrieking with laughter:

(This is unequivocally the best photo of the evening.)

After the party a friend and I helped strike, then retired to my place for a "girl's night." We sat on my balcony, drank, talked, and shot the breeze until well after midnight. After hitting the bar next door for a few minutes to chat with some other buddies, i finally rolled back in my front door at two a.m.; happy and exhausted after an incredible weekend of dancing and friendship.

Performance Recap Reamble

I didn't really have time to write about Friday's shows, so I decided to make a quick video in between my photo shoot and our call time yesterday. And okay, fine: I wanted to show off my spiffy modeling-hair before I had to dismantle it and put it in a bun. It's a little rambly, so bear with me (that's why I prefer writing over speaking, folks).

Thanks to Keyser for taking the video.... and for coming to the show Friday and taking E, L, and I out to dinner afterward. We all had a BLAST.

Notes from our performances: Student matinées

I scribbled some stuff down during our final two performances yesterday so that I could give you lovely folks an inside look at how a performance happens. Enjoy!

1. I didn't dance anything in pointe shoes for this production, but I got to wear bonnets. It evens out.

2. Sabbath Day is the most fun ballet ever. EVER. The end.

3. As a result of Jimmy's absence, I am dancing in the sections of Sabbath Day that I was removed from due to my injury. I had the best time dancing those sections,.... yet I felt a bit guilty enjoying myself so much because of the circumstances that put me back in those ballets.

4. The corps' exit from the third movement of Sabbath Day is a series of turning jumps and leaps.... which is fun in and of itself, but even more so in a long and twirly skirt.

5. During the "shadowplay" scene in which R shoots me,* he looks amazingly creepy. After he blows me away, he exits doing a stoic and stiff-legged movement (while putting away the "gun"), and since he's wearing a top hat and his fancy-looking slave-master outfit it looks like something out of a music video by The Used. From my close-up recently-shot perspective, IT LOOKS AWESOME.

6. As I've said before, the Douglass piece began last year with the "Slave Machine" quartet. I
just want to tell you that it is WAY more fun to dance in a fancy hoop dress and a frilly bonnet.

7. Call me a hack if you will, but if there's one thing I love more than dancing it's dancing while wearing a pretty outfit. I'll plead guilty on all counts of Vain, but it's how I roll.

8. Did I really ust say "It's how I roll?" *facepalm*

9. During our second show on Tuesday, we were nearing the end of "Slave Machine" and I thought "This might be the last time I dance this, and that makes me sad." I had a great time dancing it.

10. Again: Jimmy's absence from our fold caused us to do quite a bit of re-arranging in terms of casting. For Tuesday's performances, I got to do the "Silver Trumpet of Freedom" (another shadow sequence), which I enjoyed.

11. It's worth mentioning that our director originally did that section; and to me, getting to dance one of her parts is pretty darn cool (even if it is , like, only thirty seconds long).

12. I always forget that we're supposed to be barefoot for Freedom, so I end up having to yank off my ballet shoes about eight counts before my entrance.

13. It is entirely impossible not to smile during Freedom. It's so uplifting.

14. Originally, I had an exit where Jimmy and R lifted me over their heads and carried me offtstage. It always caused me to want to say "Whee!" With Jimmy gone, we re-worked it so that R picked me up in a double attitude and swirled me offstage...and I honestly have to say that it's even more fun than our original lift. It's like being on a roller coaster, but on a stage and in a dance costume. During the final performance yesterday, I found myself whispering "wheeeeeeeeeee" as he carried me offstage.

15. With both incarnations of that lift-exit, I always wanted to close my eyes for fear of having a painful encounter with either the wing or the lighting boom. It was a little scarier with the new lift, because I was being spun around really, really fast...but then I realized "Dude, I've been dancing with this guy for over a year and he has NEVER hurt me, dropped me, or slammed me into an immoveable object." And then I felt really lucky for being able to dance with such a good partner. Props, dude.

16. When we lined up to make our final Freedom enterance during our last three performances, every single time I'd forget what had happened and think to myself "There aren't enough people in our line. Where's Jimmy?" And each time, it saddened me in a big way.

17. It was a really great show and I'm bummed that it's over. I hope we get to dance these ballets again, because it was such a great experience. Allow me to send some major love to the [Awesome People] Dance Company: It was a tremendous pleasure, and I love you all.

P.S. Tomorrow is Bill Hicks Day, so stay tuned for a big-time tribute. Check out Hicks' work in the meantime, especially if you haven't heard of him before. Big-time props to Mr. Sozeberg for introducing me to Hicks last fall.

*Let me clarify that during that scene I'm portraying a slave and not the slave mistress. The scene portrays how a slave master could shoot an errant slave in cold blood-- in front of the other slaves!-- and none of the slaves who witnessed the murder could report or testify the murder. Awful. Makes me hate America, a little bit.

Loss, Betrayal, and Longed-For Saving Grace: A Sad Day in Upstage Left

During Friday and Saturday's performances I scribbled down all sorts of amusing things to regale you with in my little pink Hello-Kitty notebook....but you're going to have to wait. I just got off the phone with a fellow dancer, after a good 15 minutes of morosely going over the events of the day.

About five minutes before we took the stage for our Sunday matinee, we learned something very sad about one of our own dancers, someone who was new to our company. When he didn't show up at call time, we assumed it was a family emergency of some kind. At curtain time-- when we circled up to do our pre-show prayer, in fact-- the stage manager came to the door and told our director that someone wanted to speak with her. We were already in place to go on for Sabbath Day when someone (I don't even remember who, to be honest) came over and told us what was going on, and it was that moment that my heart cracked in half and leaked all over the front of my Shaker dress.

I attacked Sabbath Day with more energy then ever before (Because Jimmy was missing, I got to be in the first three movements of Sabbath Day again. As much as I wanted to dance those sections again I did NOT want it to be under such awful circumstances). I felt great while I was dancing, my body finally (Finally) [FINALLY!] felt like my own normal dancing body for the first time in weeks, I felt energetic, exuberant, and happy; the audience loved E and me in our little Shaker-duet... and the moment I got back into the dressing room, I looked at Victor and said "I'm so sad about Jimmy." He agreed, adding that "It just feels kind of surreal right now."

It was on everyone's mind, and we couldn't stop talking about what was happening. In the dressing room, in the hallway by the bathroom, and in the wings backstage dancers were going over the evidence: talking about what had happened the last time we saw Jimmy and speculating what may have happened after we all left the theater last night.

Of course, Jimmy danced in solo and principal roles. While it wasn't too hard to cover his absence in Act One, Act Two was a different story. My friend Blue Eyes and I sat down during the end of Act One and made a list of scenes he would need to be covered for in Douglass and Freedom; at the beginning of Intermission our director came in and talked with us about Who would cover Where by doing What. Lifts were re-worked, spacing was adjusted, dancers set off to learn some of his parts in under five minutes. Tensions ran high, people felt upset. I, the obligatory funny-girl of the company and already dressed in my Mrs. Lloyd costume, was at a loss for what to do, so on a whim I glided over to E in my hoop dress, lifted up my enormous skirt, and dropped it over her head.

This made E laugh hysterically (after she crawled out from under the big purple tent that is my hoop skirt), along with Georgia and Blue Eyes. It was only about a minute later, though, that we were alarmed by the sound of another dancer sobbing (this wasn't someone who we see cry very often ever, which made it even more startling). R and I ran over to hug her and offer comfort...but what can one really say or do at a time like this? We thought that she was stressed at trying to learn his roles in a twenty- minute time frame, but she later said "It just makes me sad, because he was so beautiful." I agreed, and had to pull my bonnet strings even tighter around my throat to keep from bursting into tears myself.

But then it was time: Places For The Top Of Act Two. We flowed through the first several scenes of Douglass. About halfway through I went up to Georgia in the wings, gave her a hug, and said "I just needed to hug someone. Know that I love you."

I then changed back into my Mrs.-Lloyd costume and danced the "Slave Machine" quartet, we all kicked ass, and it was awesome. I snuck into the wings to watch our director do Invisible No More and cried because it was sodamnfreakingbeautiful. Freedom felt good, my newly-modified lift with R (formerly my lift with R and Jimmy) went well, and I smiled and danced my little heart out. The audience applauded like mad and showered us with applause and accolades and love.

I stayed after, chatting with audience members and other dancers' friends/children/spouses and with Mr. Sozeberg (who came to see our show, Thanks Keyser! Did the Rockets win?). I helped clean up the dressing room, drove home blasting Stravinsky at a loud enough volume to drown out my thoughts, stopped at the grocery store by my house and chattered excitedly with the owner who essentially knows me by face (because I am there ALMOST EVERY DAY). I arrived home, I threw pizzas in the oven, and I poured myself a glass of wine the size of Lake Okeechobee. I drank, I read multiple volumes of "Growing Up Cullen," I watched downloaded episodes of Family Guy...anything, other than think about the dark and terrifying path that a dear friend of mine has gone down; possibly never to return.

Elspe called earlier, and we had a good long talk. She has known Jimmy much longer than the rest of us, and was able to offer a little more insight and background to what happened. We're both so sad for him, and we're both praying for his recovery.

I'll update you more later on. In the meantime, I'll give you something not-depressing to tide you over: Here's a picture of R and me as the evil-nasty slave-owning Lloyd contingency:

Aren't we cute (and by "cute," I of course mean "evil")?

Please pray for Jimmy, folks.

Long-Winded 'Great Russian Nutcracker' recap

9:45am. 30 Texas dancers armed with ballet shoes, makeup, and digital cameras piled into the Stafford Centre theatre in Stafford, Texas. We were shepherded into our dressing area, introduced to the wardrobe mistress and the company photographer (both lovely people-- flawless at working with kids), fitted in costumes, and photographed. I was super happy about my Spanish costume, because it was super gorgeous and super fun to turn in (I found it necessary to do chaine turns down the hallway while saying "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!").

Cut to: stage rehearsal. Dance Captain Anna Tyutyunnik looked over all the local dances and integrated us with the main cast. I expected chaos, but it went pretty smoothly. Shout-out to Paul The Stage Manager (possibly the coolest stage manager ever), who answered my questions about the GRN's touring process. Such as:
1. How long have you been on the road? (Six weeks)
2. How many casts of GRN are touring? (Three: Southwest Tour, Northwest Tour, and Northeast Tour, AKA A Tour, B Tour, C Tour)
3. Bus? Plane? (Two Buses: One for dancers, one for cast and crew)
4. Exactly how insane is your touring schedule? (The dancers sometimes spend 10 to 12 hours on the bus, then have to dance. Or they get to a hotel at 4am, and have to be dancing by 10am.)

Cut to: Performance. It was the last show, and in grand tradition of the theatre, the last performance of a run is a scared time of focus and reflection and....pfft, I'm kidding. The last show of a run is when the cast has FUN. There was so much laughter backstage, thanks to:
- The Nutcracker-- with missing teeth
- The Arabian Doll dancer had these huge fake teeth in the entire time she was dancing, and when she came offstage she literally doubled over laughing.
- During the party scene, a woman was "falling down drunk."
- All the party scene women had their hats on backwards.
- The pièce de résistance: The snow was falling during the snowflake scene, like it always does. The curtain came down as they snowflakes were dancing in a big circle...and the moment the curtain touched the stage, Paul dumped ALL THE FREAKING SNOW, a huge pile of white stuff in one big ka-pow. The dancers shreiked, we all laughed, "snowballs" were thrown, and Paul got high-fived by me. And then knighted as Coolest Stage Manager Ever.

The kiddos did great. The Party Scene children had the most stage time and the most interaction with the main cast-- ya know, those folks that they had never seen until today-- and they handled it like little pros.

Mouse costume= lots of jokes about wearing no pants.

Oh, here's something that I've never done before: I put on the wrong costume. Yup, just strolled on into the dressing room, saw a dress that was Spanish-y and absently put it on. Never mind that said dress was A) Elle's, B) definitely not hanging anywhere near mine, or C) not the one I had on earlier. Yeah, um, sorry about that, Elle.

Cut to: Act 2! I had a blast doing Spanish. Smiled, didn't screw up, and then it was over before I knew it. I got offstage (grinning like an idiot, as usual) and thought "...wow...that's it, huh?" My "Little Spanish" came up to me, said "Great job!" and gave me a hug. Awww!

One of my buddies was an Arabian, and their duet was lovely. The Russian dance was awesome, except I still don't get why the "Little Russian" girls danced holding giant roosters on sticks. Can someone enlighten me on that? Anybody?

I got to mess with someone named "Tork" on headset, that was fun.

The rest of it, I didn't get to see too much of. When I get the DVD, I'll fill you in. For now, all I can say is that what I did see was really lovely.

I love the guy who danced Drosselmeyer. His stage presence and interpretation of his character were outstanding-- whimsical, charismatic, a magician. I hate the creepy/incestuous Drosselmeyer that some ballet companies are so fond of. I mean, really? This is the ballet that's supposed to enchant children, not make them creeped out by Uncle Molesty. At least GRN gives us a guy in a cool cape who makes magic happen.

I could tell you more, but I have to pack for my trip to Austin in twelve hours, and I should probably shower somewhere in there. And this post is really long. So allow me to sum up my entire Great Russian Nutcracker experience thus:

"That was fun."

The spiritual side of things

"Ladies and gentlemen, the [Awesome People] Dance Company!" [cue wild applause]
****
A lot happened in the US today: Bush announced his bailout plan for the auto industry, Deep Throat died, and Obama appointed Rick Warren to do the inaugural prayer. But all of those have already been blogged to death, so allow me to take the high road and tell you about our little performance. It's a nice distraction.

We were performing in a small space, which always creates interesting scenarios. Entering from the right involved having to go outside to cross over....which was actually fantastic, being that it was an unbelievably gorgeous night. :-) The floor was hard but not slippery, which was a relief...well, to me, anyway (You may disagree, but I'd much rather be sore the next morning then have to worry about ass-skating the entire time I'm onstage. Much less embarrassing).
Song of Mary was first, and oh, such a lovely start to the evening. It's not at all literal, and I think that's what makes it so effective-- It brings the viewer into the emotions of the story, rather than the logistics. It the second time R have done the piece, this time with L and E. All were just beautiful.
Didn't get to see our director's solo (we were sweating, changing, and sweating some more), but I watched it during our pre-performance run and it was really moving. It was about the birth of Christ in Bethlehem. Something about seeing it during the run-- in the space, surrounded by Christmas lights and decorations and evergreen-- added to it even more.

I just love the music for our trio, which went well... aside from the fact that my skirt wanted to run away. (it was pinned onto the leotard, but it was still too big and falling down everywhere else). Thankfully, I've developed a knack for finding unobtrusive places in choreography to discreetly fix myself when needed.
Because of the logistics of the space, the three of us went outside to change for the next piece. Oh, relax-- we were out of everybody's sight-lines and besides, we had on full tights and leotards under our dresses (didn't stop me from cracking jokes about being naked outside, though). Inside, everyone was singing "O Come O Come, Emmanuel;" and our director and I started singing along....in a spontaneous two-part harmony, because we are talented like that. It was really cool. Oh, and did I mention that it was a flawless night to be changing costumes (while singing) outside? Because it was.

The last piece was kind of a blur. All I remember is that it went off without a hitch, everyone was lovely and radiated, and at the end our little audience applauded like crazy.

Oh yeah, I kind of neglected to mention that I fell debilitatingly ill last Sunday and was out of commission most of the week. I returned to rehearsals yesterday after a barre and a few low-impact center exercises, so you can imagine I wasn't feeling up to my normal dancing speed. If you think that didn't make me nervous about performing, you are wrong.

Once I got past my nerves, however, I felt the performance on an entirely different level than normal. Initially, I figured it would be one of those small performance gigs where you're in and out-- nothing that affects you too much. But after what transpired earlier this week... well, that didn't quite happen. Not only because of the all Christianity-themed spiritual dances (which normally strike a chord with me anyway); but because I recovered from the scary events of Sunday and Monday with the help of prayers-- not just my own, but those of the chaplain at St. Cat's/family members/friends/fellow dancers (some who visited me directly, and others who called and got their friends to pray). Not to be preachy-- you all know I'm normally the queen of crude jokes over here-- but the combination of those factors made dancing tonight a particularly spiritual experience.

And that, my friends, is all. Good night, and be well.

Kid for a Day

The internet in our condo complex has been down since Saturday night, which is when I started this post. So, let's get caught up, shall we?

I woke up early Saturday morning, parted my hair to the left, put it in a bun, and applied a pile of the appropriate stage makeup. It wasn’t until I was buying bobby pins at the Katy Mills Wal- Mart that I looked up at the Security TV and realized that I was out in Southwest- American Suburbia wearing Whore Makeup and ultra-glittery rhinestone earrings. At eight-thirty in the morning. Oops.

My 10am private lesson was a dancer in the Junior Company; when she saw me the first words out of her mouth were “Um, do you have a show or something?” I told her about the extensive sick/injured list and that I jumping in for Skater’s Waltz. “Are you Elle?” “No, I’m Andrea…. and I’m doing Gabby’s grande allegro part, too. I’ll be in Elle’s costume, though.”

Digressing a moment: There’s something I’ve always loved about being in the ballet studio on a Saturday morning. I think it’s one of the most familiar things in a dancer’s life—that’s where many of us started dancing, in those Saturday morning ballet classes. And from kindergarten on up until—well, now—Saturday morning was spent either taking a class, rehearsing, or teaching.

I made it downtown in under forty minutes (without breaking too many speed limits, go me). We rounded up the Company, huddled on a patio space (it was an outdoor performance) and marked through the ballet. The kiddos also marked through several of the other pieces to work around the missing people. And then, it was showtime.

Quote of the day, from the director: "It's a slippery surface, so be careful in your tap shoes. If you fall down, what should you do?" [everyone responds "Get back up!"] "That's right, keep smiling, keep going, cry when you get offstage." Hee! Awesome.

My ballet was last, so I got to watch the rest of the show while I warmed up. The Mini Company was lined up next to the stage shivering (their costume was sleeveless), so I whispered that they should "do some plies and eleves so your muscles won't be too cold." I looked over a second later and saw all four of them standing in their lineup, doing plie-straighten-eleve-lower in perfect sync. In their little gold dresses. It was unbelievably cute.

I have never seen my ballet performed before. They did a performance of it a few weeks ago, but I had rehearsal (what, you're surprised?). Saturday I finally got to see it, but from inside the action....and it was pretty awesome ifidosaysomyself. Nobody went down during the ballet, it was really fun, I managed to not screw up my own choreography, and my kiddos looked absolutely beautiful. I'm so proud of them.

I've got more to say but duty calls-- I got a nice chunk of choreography done this morning, and it's time to go set it into motion.

We're dancing...finally!

When we circled up to do our prayer before curtain on Saturday, I realized that the last time we had all done this was before we took the stage at the Miller a half of a year ago. It would be the first time I was on a stage since I was in California. I was beyond elated to be on a stage again, but sad that it had been so long.

It's been tough for the performing arts here in Houston-- the city had the hurricane damage to deal with on top of the economic crisis. Oh, and Wayne Dolcefino's "report" did not help, either. You're a douchebag, Wayne Dolcefino. Nobody likes you. Go away. There, I said it.

On the other hand, my students have been performing up a storm with three performances under their belts already and a few more coming. Yes, the kiddos are getting more work than the rest of us right now. It's sad for us, but good for them-- and because hey, SOMEBODY'S dancing (and dancing well, I might add, but maybe I'm a little biased).

But things are finally turning. The beloved contemporary ballet Company is back in action, having danced a great show Saturday and with two gigs coming up in December-- plus my own ensemble has a small show, not to mention the kiddos and I have The Nutcracker at the end of the month. We're dancing. It feels all right. More than all right, actually; but I couldn't resist the cheesy Center Stage reference. WHAT? Don't give me that look.

On the other hand, I'm looking forward to the end of this week and the little break it will provide. I didn't expect to need it, but I do. I'm exhausted. I'm going to muscle through today and tomorrow with my racoon eyes and a monster cup of coffee in hand, then kick back and relax for a few days. And you know what, I've said it before and I'll say it again-- there's something strangely satisfying about carrying your body through long days of dancing even when you're tired. Somewhere in there, the adrenaline just takes over and you do what you need to do. It feels just a little superhuman. And to me, that's pretty cool.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do my dance thing. And check it out, I'm more than two-thirds of the way through NaBloPoMo! Go me!

Just popping in....

....to say that we had a wonderful show yesterday. We also found out that we'll be dancing at a church for the holidays, and that we'll be doing Song of Mary, which I love love love and is one of my favorite pieces.

And I'd say more, but I'm out the door. Until next time....

Day Five: Sacre Times Two