Ranting Details

Costumes. Again.

Halloween is almost a redundant holiday for anyone in the performing arts. I spend all year dressing up in the most elaborate and expensive costumes I could dream of so anything at Halloween should seem like a letdown. Yet somehow I am always impressed by the costumes that the members of ABT come up with in the limited time between rehearsals. Procrastination is something that infects every holiday for me but Halloween seems to be the worst. From the look of the line stretching around the block at Ricky's by my apartment, I am not the only one.

This year my first thought was to be Britney Spears from her Dateline interview. I was going to create the whole outfit and have a baby doll dragging on the ground tied to my wrist. Perhaps another attached to my bulging breast. Just a few ideas that I was tossing around. With Jackie as my Kevin Federline we would have been as indestructible as their indefatigable love. Unfortunately gross mini-skirts and ugly maternity clothes proved difficult to find and I was unwilling to do it if it wasn't trailer trash perfection.

Idea number two was to be Sofia Coppola. This was something I was looking forward too but felt too few people would get it. I was going to slouch around in a gross black dress with droopy hair and a knife stabbed into a copy of a "Marie Antoinette" book. Perhaps blood dripping from my mouth? Classic in my mind, boring to others. Abandoned.

Both of those ideas embody the classic joy of Halloween to me; an excuse for gay men to dress in drag and for women to dress like sluts. With the Britney idea I was combining the two! What could be better? Really slamming it out of the park but I guess there is always next year.


(Blaine, turning 21 yesterday, enforces the no drinking laws on the underage students.)

Plan C was what came to fruition. I went cliched Halloween and was a nerd. No nerd in particular just vague, clothes out of my closet, nerd. I was pleasantly surprised when people seemed to enjoy the costume seeing as it was all things I owned already plus a few items from the "nerd kit" found at Ricky's. Finding a fanny pack proved to be almost as difficult as finding logic in the Bush administration (okay that was a stretch.) Like all things though, with persistence comes success and I found a god awful banana yellow fanny pack right across the street from my apartment (the last place i looked.) Now, does anyone else find a need to revive fanny packs because after sporting one all night I must say they are alarmingly practical. Want a camera? BAM! Fanny pack. Want money? BAM! Fanny pack. Want a dancing midget? BAM! Oh wait.....

(Marcelo, as a ballet teacher, attempts to give us some pointers. I am a defiant nerd which of course is the only way to go.)

(The group poses together but everyone works the camera in their own way.)

Let us all take a blogosecond to rave about Kenny Easter's fabulous party. The pirate theme was a complete smash as was the group of people. Unfortunately it was as dark as a medieval dungeon in there so I couldn't get a picture to do it justice but let's just say it was miles beyond a normal house party. Bravo Easter Bunny! Hope everyone enjoys the pictures!

(Patrick works some Pirate Voodoo Insanity and he's not even in costume!)

(This was the norm last night. Elaborate to say the least.)

(Just a little mid-party dinner break. Could I be more colorful? I'm the Gay Pride Flag Nerd.)

(After returning to the party, Marcelo attempted to kill me. Just a routine day at the office.)

Sankai Juku?

My fanny pack search was brought to a screeching halt yesterday as I took one of my quarterley trips to Brooklyn to go to BAM. The company under interrogation was Sankai Juku whom would be performing their 90-minute piece "Kagemi." I won't spend too much time discussing the performance because what I find more interesting are the ideas that it brought up about the subjectivity of art.

I would first like to state one of my new lofty goals; within the next twenty years I want to perform in some way (preferably with my own choreography) at the BAM Opera House. It is a really spectacular space and I might as well set my sights high right? When I walked in to the theater I was struck by the beauty of the building for a millisecond but then looked to the stage where hundreds of white lotus flowers hovered above the surface. It is an image that will forever be burned in my brain and for me the rest of the evening never really lived up to the power of that image. At moments there was incredible beauty on stage but overall I found the performance to be a bit bland and monotonous. The performers showed such complete devotion to the piece that even the most miniscule details carried an enormous amount of weight.

There is so much power in stillness and tranquility on stage or in life but in order to achieve its full impact it must also be aided by its opposite. The calm after the storm is peaceful because of its juxtaposition to the storm. The make up after a fight is pleasant because of the fight. The calmness of this coffee shop is comforting after the insanity of last night, and so on.... If there is no phrasing to the movement and it is all just beautiful is that ever really enough? In my opinion the show just needed a little bit more variety in the movement to make the meditative parts work.

Then comes the fact that David had called me the night before raving about how he felt this was one of the best performances he had ever seen. Hype can make or break an experience and perhaps for me it was just the advanced praise that did me in. It also makes me wonder how life could be different with the most miniscule changes. Had that phone call not happened would my feelings be different? The subjectivity of art is what makes life interesting and I, for one, cannot wait to debate the validity of both of our opinions. Either way it is always worth it to me to see any live theater if only for the discussion that it prompts afterwards.

Symphonie Gang Wars.

It's time for another "City Center Storybook" Moment!

When the curtain goes up it may all look like glitter and glamour, but there is a dark underbelly to the glittering world of ABT. Yes folks, just like the Sharks and the Jets we have our very own gang wars! You may find it hard to believe, but here is the photgraphic proof in this Dateline Exclusive "The Underside of the Tutu."

The "Five Minutes Until Battle" call is one of the most intense times for both gangs as they practice their moves. Precision is everything in battle.


Jackie, a member of the "Lashes" gang, questions the outcome of today's tensions.


The momentary peace meeting is brought to a screeching halt as legs fly into the air; the war has begun.


Hee Seo, a member of the "Dagger Legs" gang, raises her hand to the heavens in a defiant gesture of victory.


Another "Dagger Legs" member, Isabella, knows that glamour is everything and takes a moment to flash her gang symbol. This was right before turning around and scratching someones eyes out with those very hands.


One of the founding members of "Lashes," Marian (out of her witch doctor disguise for the day), laughs at the simple moves of those around her. She is going to pull out some "Mortal Kombat" skills tonight.


Bring it bitch.

Behind the Velvet Curtain….

This new camera is providing me with a lot of joy; sometimes retail therapy IS the answer. I'm fortunate enough to have not driven people nuts yet and some people even WANT to be on the blog. These are all shots while messing around before the curtain came up on "Glow-Stop" and "Meadow" last night. Click on any to enlarge.


(Craig gives the camera some hidden sass. Their costumes kind of match the curtain at City Center.)


(Sarah Lane gives the camera some movement that is MUCH larger than her tiny size.)


(David and Stella do a few last minute tests of their difficult pas de deux in "Meadow.")


(Don't know why I enjoy this picture of some of the "Meadow" corps boys but I do. Sometimes headless boys are better.)

Morty The Mortifier.

Mor.ti.fi.ca.tion-n
1. deep shame and humiliation
2. the death and decaying of a part of a living body

I never thought that I would be posting a blog that starts with the definition of mortification. Then again, life is full of unexpected surprises and tonight was no exception.

As I was backstage preparing for my performance of “Rodeo,” I had a strange feeling that something was a little bit off tonight. Perhaps is was the fact that I had eaten something healthy for dinner (not my usual fast food diet) or maybe that I hadn’t rehearsed the ballet I was to perform, in about a week; either way, an ominous feeling began to creep over the evening.

The stage was filled with people preparing for “Meadow” as I was in my back corner wishing good luck and going over my steps for the last ballet of the evening. It was a hurried review, one that in hindsight only skimmed the surface, but what was I to do?
It was soon time to get into costume and as I put on my fancy purple and pink cowboy uniform I felt ready to go out and show the audience my knee-weakening swagger. The curtain went up, I channeled my machismo attitude and relied on muscle memory to carry me through.

It started with an exaggerated battement. What should have been a 90-degree extension suddenly expelled itself as a chorus-girl kick escaping out of my body. Who were these demons that were attempting to escape? I couldn’t help but smirk at myself for having over-exaggerated the moves within the first few moments; perhaps my excitement had just taken a hold of me. Then things plummeted off the front of the stage into the orchestra pit….

Always considering myself a count-consistent dancer, I felt my brain melt like a pound of butter as I stood center stage. What had once been second nature to me was suddenly absent from my mind. As the boys around me stood doing the choreography I lifted up my legs proudly about 16 counts too early. Immediately I second guessed myself and place my leg down. As if I had been electrocuted by the ground, my leg again recoiled to the improper position and I stood with egg on my face as the boys around me rejoiced in their correctness. How could I have been so stupid? Hadn’t I been the one that people had been asking about the correct counts only minutes before the curtain rose? The joke was on me as I heard the rest of the cast begin to snicker behind me.

(Happy moments on the costume rack BEFORE things got sucked into the vortex of evilness.)

In case it wasn’t clear, I had my first MAJOR fuck-up tonight on stage. A new found sympathy has been discovered for those whose minds fail them from time to time. Not since I was ten, content with bowl-cut and glasses, has such a thing happened to me. At that time I had been a young boy dancing the shim-sham center stage with a group of tappers. As they began to rush, I stopped dead still center stage for about 10 counts frustrated in their stupidity. There was nothing I could do and afterwards I just broke down to my mother in frustration. Tonight, however, it was I who was basking in the stupidity. We all have our moments, I guess, but on stage with ABT blanking out will never be one of my proudest.

The support, and mockery, from the cast and the staff was enough to lift my spirits to a point where I don’t feel like it is the end of the world. People thought maybe I was just doing some ab-strengthening exercises center stage; a solid alibi. As I strolled through Times Square later tonight I thought I would do a little re-enactment of my over-excited extension from early in the piece; a moment I was willing to re-enact pictured above. The rest, however, will have to live in the memories of the proud few who witnessed it.

Fortunately, it was nothing that a little time with my sister and Scott couldn't fix.

Scott was even generous enough to demonstrate my crazy kick in the "Seattle Cafe." How we ended up there will forever be a mystery to me. My brain was obviously eaten by velociraptors tonight.

Random Rehearsal Shots.

Citing the blog as an excuse to do so, I purchased a new camera yesterday. Aside from the fact that my old one was literally falling apart every day in my bag, I wanted something that I could change up manually and capture movement better than before. Here are the first few shots that I took while playing around on the stage today. No fancy captions this time, just good old fashioned blog indulgence.
If you click on any of the photos they will become larger so you can actually see everything!

(Marcelo and Blaine get their aerobic work for the day with a little "Upper Room" reviewing. I attempted to create the smoke but my mind couldn't make it happen.)


(This is a picture from "Meadow" rehearsal that I enjoy because I feel like it captures the aura of piece perfectly. Fluid and ethereal, existing both planted in the ground and floating in the air, it's a really beautiful piece.)


(A shot of David and Stella rehearsing the goosebump inducing pas from "Meadow." It's a lesson in "how did he dream that up" type of choreography that has to be seen to be believed.)

I don't know if it is this way for everyone but I am eternally in love theaters. Everything about them has always fascinated me. As I child I think I would have been happier running around backstage than just about anywhere else. It still is an overwhelming feeling sitting on stage during rehearsals and looking out at the empty theater. I am always reminded of old MGM movies musicals about backstage life ala "Kiss Me Kate." It's easy to take things like this for granted sometimes but every once in a while I remember the kid in myself and allow him to get giddy.....even if just for a minute. Then it's back to my "too cool for school" attitude. Just kidding.

Songs YOU need to download. 10/26/06

I am back in an obsessive music purchasing phase. On top of searching for music to choreograph to, I am craving music like it's crack.

Knock 'Em Out-Lily Allen
Everything's Just Wonderful-Lily Allen

This is some new music from the British Gwen Stefani, Lily Allen. Somehow all British music sounds fairly cheesy to me but there is no denying that this is enjoyable happy pop with a sarcastic edge and clever lyrics. I mean an album that begins with "When you first left me, I was wanting more. But you were fucking that girl next door. What did you do that for?" Can't be half bad right? Gotta love the Brits.

"On The Bus Mall"-The Decemberists
"The Crane Wife 3"-The Decemberists
This is a band that I have been trying to push on all of my friends and it isn't quite working. Lead singer Colin Meloy is one of my good friends' brothers and a lyrical genius. He takes every approach BUT the conventional one, sprinkling his surprisingly catchy songs with words like "barbs, bayonets, threadbare" and so on. Slightly different than the "bitches and ho's" approach to music recently. Their new album is different and a little more mainstream but brilliant nonetheless.

"Cellphone's Dead"-Beck
"We Dance Alone"-Beck
Two songs from his fantastic new album.

"Opus 17"-Marie Antoinette Soundtrack
"Concerto In G"-Marie Antoinette Soundtrack
Ewww. I can't believe I just endorsed something from that awful movie. I can feel my fingers burning as I type this. No denying its a GREAT soundtrack though.

And now for a new section "Songs That I Feel Kind of Guilty Enjoying"

"Wind It Up"-Gwen Stefani
Let's get one thing straight, I am a HUGE Gwen Stefani fan. Ever since the days of "No Doubt" she has been one of my favorite artists because what she lacked in vocal talent she made up in originality. Her first solo album was a departure from the quality of "No Doubt" but it was insanely fun and addictive which was a new road for her. I cannot wait until her next album comes out (Dec. 5th) but this new single is kind of disappointing. The first time I listened to it I couldn't believe she was using a "Sound of Music" sample and barely singing throughout. With lyrics like "I know you think he's fine and stuff, but does he know how to wind you up?" things were looking bleak. A weird mix of "Hollaback Girl"-ish beats and "Rich Girl" I hate to admit that it's growing on me. Damn her!


P.S. Does anyone even read these music posts? Leave a comment and let me know because I don't want to keep posting them if no one wants to see it.

Articulation of Change?

Stepping out of your comfort zone is a hard thing to do, whether mentally or physically. For this reason alone I was impressed with the show that I watched at ABT last night. On one of my few nights off I decided to take my sister and go peek at the last two pieces on the program Wednesday night. I didn’t know what to expect, as it was my first time watching our premiere ballet of the season “Glow-Stop.” From the minute the curtain went up and the frenzied pace began I was mesmerized by what was happening on stage. It is such a rush getting to watch your friends dance as they do in this piece, exhibiting a sense of abandon rarely seen in classical ballet. I won’t go into too much detail but I was very pleasantly surprised with what I saw last night especially since it was so far out of the “comfort zone” that can be established with various forms of movement.

Why is it so difficult to initiate change? My dad wrote me an incredible email the other day concerning this issue and I will never be able to put it as eloquently as he did but I’ll try. Fear is such a stifling thing because it brings up the ideas of success and failure. These are polar opposites, but both representing change, which takes initiative. I was reminded of this when watching “Glow-Stop” last night; I was reminded of this in class just this morning. Resistance to change is a draining and useless thing but something that is also unavoidable. It is getting over this resistance, whether to a new movement pattern or new mental pattern, that you allow yourself to become freer. You can only resist so long before you have to give in. Easier said than done, right?

It sounds obvious to say that being scared is a natural thing. I find with myself that being scared is often what I am scared of, a bit of a mind twister. When suddenly I am not aware of who I am as these feelings come into my head I retract and try to overanalyze. Like with dance, your mind works in similar ways, things will work easier when you relax into the movement of your mind and body. Like with “Glow-Stop” last night, success CAN be found when stepping into uncomfortable territory. Here I go again with one of my “YOU” speeches directed at myself. It’s just one of those days.

Sometimes the life lessons that we learn from such a young age (i.e. “focus on the positive”) seem impossible to adhere to. The more that I expand myself and my mindset, the larger the umbrella known as my “comfort zone” will become. I am learning that I am comfortable with some things I had not thought before, and uncomfortable with other things I used to love (crappy Hollywood movies i.e. Marie Craponiette.) This blog is all over the place today as my brain is working through new ideas; I feel about as articulate as President Bush.

Lazy Post of the Day. Hallmark Moments.

Children ride bikes (or all terrain vehicles in Montana...really safe for the young'ins) and lift their hands in the air exlcaiming, "Look Ma! No hands." A moment meant to show off for the parents and display your magical bike ridding talents.

Well I never had magical bike riding talents, but I do get to exlaim the close cousin of the above phrase, "Look Ma! I'm an old man!" Here I am (making some face even I can't seem to recognize) in my Old Soldier makeup for "Green Table." I hope when I am 60 I don't wear QUITE that much makeup. It kind of looks like the top half of my head is missing too because of the way my hair is colored. Fun times, I guess I lost it in the previous battle.

Wow, this is officially the laziest post I have ever done. I just said "Hi, Look at my face." It's second week of City Center; the theater insanity is setting in.

Sometimes Movies Suck.

Dear Sofia Coppola,

Please stop masturbating on screen, no one enjoys watching it. I sat through two tedious hours of your new movie “Marie Antoinette” last night and I desperately want them back. If only you had named the movie something like, “Paris Hilton’s Excellent Adventure” or perhaps “Strawberry Shortcake Drops Acid and Takes Over France,” then maybe I could forgive you. Displaying this showcase of endless imagery as a movie is a crime against the human mind. What could have served as a modern romp in the style of Baz Luhrmann’s “Romeo and Juliet” instead becomes an extended music video advertisement for wedding cake and champagne. See, Baz had Shakespeare to work with; you on the other hand had a script that could barely fill a “Berenstein Bears” book. It did all look yummy all right, as Kirstin Dunst frolicked around the estate. Then Kirstin Dunst frolicked around the garden. Then Kirstin Dunst ran with her arms plastered to her sides as if she had been shot with a tranquilizer gun. That was my favorite, so thanks Sofia for that. The fact that you have somehow convinced someone to produce this movie (can it even be called a movie?!) is beyond me. Perhaps the same tranquilizer gun used on Kirstin was involved in the contract signings. I don’t care how pretty your gorgeous shots were, because somewhere in the editing room the movie got left out of this multi-million dollar spectacle. The annoying part is that I fear many people will be duped. You have made it so sugary sweet that you are basically drugging the audience into believing it’s art. Shame on you. I am off to burn my copy of your brilliant movie “Lost In Translation.”
Kisses,
-M