Another "Why I Love New York" moment happened yesterday afternoon when I received an email from a friend saying she had an extra orchestra ticket for the New York Ballet's production of The Sleeping Beauty. In a matter of hours I was transported out of my office and into the theatre for my very first trip to the ballet in New York.
And oooooooh it was good.
And oooooooh it was good.
The music from The Sleeping Beauty is some of my most favorite ballet music. The first time I ever saw/heard it was at the Royal Ballet at Convent Garden in London and I was rather transfixed, and last night was no exception.
I also must confess that I am a total closeted ballet lover. I have spent many an hour dreaming about being a ballerina, knowing all the while that never in a bazillion years will it ever happen. But, there is something so freakishly lovely to me about the idea of being one, isn't there? They don't seem human, and I mean that in a good way (not like "you're not human so you're like the robots that were at the Grammy's").
Anyways, what I loved about this version (choreographed by the wonderful Peter Martins) was how much humor was incorporated into the staging and choreography.
And, similar to Marin Short's idea about putting in a Big Black Lady To Stop The Show:
If you throw some kids on stage and make them do choreographed things, the audience just goes bananas. I had a face cramp because I couldn't stop smiling.
If you throw some kids on stage and make them do choreographed things, the audience just goes bananas. I had a face cramp because I couldn't stop smiling.
I also am rather transfixed by, as Jessica Simpson once called them, the "Ballerinos." Watching male dancers blows my mind because they are just using the sheer force of their bodies and their feet to propel themselves all over the place, all the while looking like they are simply feathers trouncing around like it's no big thing. They don't even look out of breath. I. Don't. Get. It.
As I walked home, I couldn't help but sing this to myself...
Because, everything WAS beautiful at the ballet.
Because, everything WAS beautiful at the ballet.
Oh, le sigh.
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5 comments:
Hey, never forget-you are a graduate of the Beresford Conservatory of Dance.
Oh wait a minute, I think I misspoke. Your sister and Sarahsouth were crochet bun wearing ballet students, of Madame Marlene, and graduates of the Beresford Conservatory of Dance. You my dear, while a featured ballerina snowflake with a promising career, became a BCD drop out. Don't stop the dreamin.
WHOA THERE! I did not drop out. I danced for YEARS. Do you not remember my number in the spring concert where I wore those red boxers with glow in the dark kisses on them? Or when I modeled the beach look with neon glasses? Or when Mary Crawford farted during stretches in teacher Kathy's class? I'm offended.
You did not DANCE there for years. You were registered for years but skipped out on every class until the dress rehearsals for the shows came around and mom forced you to go.
Since we're expecting another foot of snow tomorrow (on top of the 30 inches we already have), I will be listening often to "At The Ballet". Surely I'd rather be at the ballet then here at Snow Central.
Keep the blogs coming.
Yo Mama For Obama
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