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February 25, 2004
The one place where Bjorks' swan dress fits right in
There is, I've found, an upside to running tech rehearsals in the high-speed catastrophe of chaos and Kuumba that I currently find myself neck deep in. This upside I speak of is only a small comfort, hardly erasing my many desires to throw heavy pieces of furniture as far as I can, or run from the building screaming like Jolie as the tears of utter frustration finally begin to course their hot tracks down my face. But it's still there. For enduring this fiasco of epic proportions, I have secured my next job (which is also an upside, but not the real upside I was thinking of here) and I get to see shows for free. Even though the other show just closed, I learned today that a traveling ballet will be coming in to do "Swan Lake." I'm so going. I'm thrilled.
Sure, it may sound like total nerdery, and I can't really deny that's what it is. My level of personal excitement about seeing Swan Lake even startled me. Swan Lake, in my opinion, is the best ballet I've ever seen. Best orchestration, dancing, coolest sequined feathery tutus and whatnot. 'Sall good. But it's been a while. I haven't been to the ballet for maybe a year now, a long while considering my mother and I used to attend SF ballet performances with some regularity. Since I was a little girl, whether I wanted to or not, Mom and I went to the ballet. Back then, we were still a family of no-talkers, and stilted conversation in the Opera House lobby was really the best you could ever hope for. Over the years, though, it became more of a welcome routine - an uber-proper mother/daughter outing that allowed us time to chat over some overpriced fruit and cheese before furrowing our brows at the astonishingly sculpted men cavorting about in paper thin, pastel tights.
My mom is the pinnacle of grace and manners. When we ate our fruit and cheese she knew it was her time to tap into the youth, find out what really goes on in the mind of her own troubled teen. I liked to say things that shocked her. I liked that she was always shocked.
Truthfully, I doubt she was. Nothing shocks that woman. But she humored me, and I respect that. And she rubbed off at least a little of her propriety and ballet-loving geekdom on me. So, Swan Lake, here I come!
Posted by kati at February 25, 2004 07:27 PM
Comments
Oh, everything
is beautiful
at the balllllllet...
Posted by: robyn at February 26, 2004 12:22 AM
What, your friends aren't sculpted enough?
Check me out Kati V - I can do frappes and rondejons and pirouettes, and other french things with my feet.
As far as your frustration goes, gold medal for your staying in the building. I know it's hard - somewhere around where you here "A rat, a rat!" and Polonius dies, I get this impulse to run onstage flapping my arms like a chicken screaming T.D. lyrics.
Not an advisable impulse.
Posted by: Mike at February 27, 2004 07:49 AM