Ranting Details

Musical Michigan Madness.

(The first dinner party of the weekend with future stars of Broadway: Michael, Jessica, Lauren and Benton.)

Escape from New York 2006 has begun. No, I am not talking about some bad Kurt Russell movie, I am referring to my Ann Arbor vacation that is well under way. Even though vacation has begun I am completely exhausted as I sit here typing this so forgive me if things seem a bit scatterbrained.

You may be asking yourself why I am in Michigan…so let me explain. My best friend since first grade is currently a super star musical theater major at the University of Michigan, which has quickly become a favorite place of mine. I showed up last year and had what I refer to as my artistic awakening. I immediately hit it off with all of his incredible friends and was able to do some ballet coaching with the fabulous Judy Rice (a teacher of mine since I was 8.) Suddenly I was visiting not only to see Michael but getting work accomplished, spending time with amazing people and being exposed to a whole new arts world.

I feel that within my group of friends in New York musical theater doesn’t have a very good reputation. Having grown up on a healthy dose of Hostess Cupcakes and Sondheim musicals (sometimes combining the two) I have nothing but appreciation for the art form. Then I came here and was completely amazed at how hard these people are working and my appreciation grew. Within my three visits to Mich thus far, I have had the privilege to sit in on a handful of classes and watch these budding stars thrive.

Today I went to what has become my favorite class, one simply called “Studio” where a goddess of a voice teacher named Melody coaches individuals through the vocal work of songs. I’ve always been a bit naïve when it comes to singing, appreciating it but not realizing the meticulousness of the craft. It is every bit as controlled as the muscles I use in my body to dance if not more so. The class consists of one person getting up and singing for their peers, then it is opened up for critiquing from all and work shopped a bit to improve upon, what already seems to me to be, perfection. Were I do a variation in front of ABT and have my peers give constructive criticism I think I might shit my dance belt (cannot believe I just typed that.)

While here I feed off the energy of these studious friends of mine and like a greedy little leprechaun, learn what I can from them and have to leave within a week. When I get here I almost forget the life that I lead in New York because I feel like I have been adopted. Walking around the campus today I had the thought, which I know has crossed every dancers mind at some point, “what if I had chosen the school route?” I live my life with no regrets but I do wish that I could live two lives simultaneously sometimes. Over the past year the weeks here have become some of the most anticipated.

Earlier today I sat in on a Shakespeare class that just happened to be studying “Othello,” which ABT will be performing in a little over a month. The professor spoke like a drunken Scottish man, analyzing the play with an unrivaled intensity but hitting some of the most lucid observations I have ever heard. I wish I had a video of this man because as he ran around the room, with fingers the length of pencils extending in every direction, he was able to inspire people even through the hilarity of it. Knowledge of the texts of the ballets we dance should be required and this class made me realize that even more; I went and purchased a copy of "Othello" upon leaving.

(Just a hint of what Mr. Pencilhands looks like as I pretend to be a part of a giant college lecture.)

Now that I have rambled on for long enough, my friends Jess, Benton and Ted and yelling at me to stop living in blog world. I have to teach two classes tomorrow so in the words of my least favorite musical “so long, farewell.” Eww I cannot believe I just quoted “Sound of Music.” There will be more Michigan adventures to come.

(A few of the Musical Theater majors work on some choreography as I spy on them in the corner, realizing my choreography awaits me in a few days.)

‘Spring’time for Bobby.

Over the past week I have seen two pieces of entertainment that, while seemingly as different as can be, were similar in many ways. I never thought I would be writing a blog comparing the downfalls of the film “Bobby” and the musical “Spring Awakening” but here I go! The subject matter could not be more different, but when I left each respective theater I had the same feeling of unfulfilled expectations.

For those of you who have been reading the blog for a while, you may remember that I saw “Spring Awakening” Off-Broadway this summer. When I left that viewing I was excited by what I had seen but thought I needed a second viewing to digest it and really form an opinion. In its transfer to Broadway, the show has fixed many of its problems, left some the same, and created others. There is no denying that this is a strikingly energetic piece of musical theater. It, like “Rent” (the show it most resembles), mixes genres and brings a fresh rock score to a new audience. Also like “Rent,” this show has an incredible cast where standouts are difficult to choose because it is an ensemble piece where everyone gets a moment to shine. So how, in a show where the cast, the music and the design are so exciting, can I leave the theater a little disappointed?

Having seen it in two different places it brought up interesting ideas of what space can do for a show. The original run took place in a converted church in Chelsea that pulsed with raw energy that nearly shattered the stained glass windows. In a larger theater though, while the music is amplified to great effect, the energy dissipates a little quicker. Looking on the stage you can see that the designers have done their best to keep the feeling of the church intact down to the exposed brick walls. Still something just doesn’t gel about this manufactured setting.

I am always interested when I am in a show or creating a piece of work in getting an outside opinion. Being too close to a project can make it difficult to fix problems. The storytelling has become clearer in the transfer to Broadway (a new song and a clearer second act really help things along) but the biggest problem to me still is the choreography. This is a show that could do without having any choreography yet they insist on keeping this bizarre interpretive dance interspersed throughout the 2 hours. I love the juxtaposition of a rock score being used to tell a story based in 1890’s Germany but the choreography just hinders everything. The only numbers where it worked at all were “Bitch of Living” (which got prolonged applause) and “Totally Fucked” where the ensemble breaks into frantic movement at the end. I am amazed that nothing has been done about the rest because it was eliciting laughter from all around me last Friday.

Broadway of course means bigger, but bigger is not always better. The best moments come when the characters just stand there and sing and other moments that utilize trap doors (not available at the original theater) add a “cheesy musical theater” quality to the evening. I was disappointed to see, in my opinion, the strongest song in the show “Left Behind” beefed up by background singers instead of just letting the beautiful Jonathan Groff sing it by himself. The leading lady, Lea Michele is an undeniable star who brings to mind a young Idina Menzel. I thought at times the acting became unnecessarily over the top and I think the dramatic impact would be more powerful were things pulled back a bit by all. Overall the evening made me upset that directors sometimes think that simplicity means boring when to me the simplest moments were by far the most powerful.

Speaking of people thinking bigger meaning better, Emilio Estevez must have had that idea in his head when casting “Bobby,” a movie that seems to have been cast flipping through the pages of “Us Weekly.” Every shot reveals a new celebrity taking part in this overwrought biopic about the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy.

(Lohan vs. Stone in the battle of the "Bad Actresses Torn from the Gossip Rags Proving They Can ACT.")

NCSA failed me a bit in the history department so my knowledge of this tragedy was fairly limited. Sitting through two hours of this movie left me extremely depressed at the state of our nation today and brings up a powerful idea of how a single act of violence can alter the course of history. I enjoy the fact that the movie makes you think and prompts the question “what if?’ to go through your head but it really should have been better. The whole movie seems to be misguided and it is the actual footage and speeches of Kennedy that make the most impact. Listening to eloquent, articulate political speeches is beginning to look like a thing of the past. Why is it always the forward thinking liberals that have to get shot?! I say that lightheartedly of course….kind of.

In conclusion I would recommend “Spring Awakening” for its stellar cast and music despite its flaws. “Bobby” on the other hand can definitely be skipped, I would much rather have seen a biography instead. There’s a statement I never imagined typing.

Holy F*ing Holidays.

Get out the tinsel and undo your top button because the holidays are here! A time of year that annually ruins our stomachs and our ability to shop, the holidays test the strength of our hearts and our wallets. These tests have been evident in the past few days and through the following photo essay I will attempt to explain the mayhem. Forgive the scattered brain.

What was supposed to be a holiday gathering of friends from Montana ended up as just me and my wonderful friend Nick who arrived a few days ago all the way from Seattle. Whenever I have a friend that has never been in New York I feel a bit of pressure to show them the sights (no matter how tired of them I am) and give them a well rounded New York experience. It would then of course be obvious why the liquor store was one of our first stops!

(Mom and Dad I swear I didn't touch any of the liquor.)

In an effort of full disclosure I would like to share my recipe for Thanksgiving dinner. Some people keep their family recipes under lock and key only passing them on to the next of kin but today I share with you my secret. Get on the subway, go up to 23rd Street and 8th Ave. and walk into a friendly little place known as Boston Market. Order your feast, heat and enjoy. Somehow this became my holiday tradition a few years ago and somehow it kind of just stuck. It's TRASH to the 10th degree and I love every minute of it. I would, however, suggest NOT melting the plastic that the food comes in.....

(Yummy.)

From the looks of this picture you might deduct that these sassy boys and I cooked something. That's not the case though, rather it's just an ad for a new version of the game "Clue." I killed the holiday cheer in the kitchen with the wine bottle and the oven mitt.


Speaking of holiday cheer, where exactly does it come from? As I get older I begin to realize that the materialistic side of the Holidays is a little revolting (that being said, I would like a Playstation 3 immediately.) Anyways, this was never more apparent than when Nick and I took a stroll down 5th Avenue on Friday, the worst shopping day of the year. The streets were packed with family's that were like starving dogs who could see their bowl but were tied up to a post. Bags filled everyones hands and Nick and I just smiled as we watched children getting reprimanded by their mothers. "Shame on you for treating your sister like that," scolded one mother; ah the holidays.

Over the past few days I have created a new series of Trading Cards that I would like to title the "Huh?" series. The first edition of the "Huh?" series came as Nick and I tried to escape 5th Avenue by means of Times Square, which is almost like a crack head trying to find sanctuary in a meth lab. During our escape we did stumble upon this....my favorite. Santa. EVER.

(Santa missed a spot during his wash and rinse dye job.)

The holidays should be about reflecting and finding calm moments to think about what is important to you. Having never walked across the Brooklyn Bridge before I thought it would be a good excursion and it was one of the most fulfilling activities of the weekend. It gave Nick and I a while to talk and to take in the amazing scenery as we headed towards Dumbo. The sun was setting and we were both in contemplative states when suddenly BAM! "Huh?" Number 2.

(This bride and her mismatched husband were trudging to an unknown destination for picture on the Brooklyn Bridge.)

The previous two "Huh?" cards were just preparing us for the final one to be found at the waterfront park in Dumbo. This has quickly become one of my favorite spots to go to and as the sun set tonight it was really breathtaking. It's amazing how a trip across the water can take you completely out of the energy of Manhattan. There was something much more serene about the people sitting around except for this guy who I still have no clue what was going on.

(My only logical conclusion is that it is an ad for the most fantastic prize ever offered at your local state fair.)

As a friend of mine recently said over the phone "The holidays are depressing," and while they sure can be, somehow I think they always end up okay. This weekend has been a bit rocky but sometimes we need a little melodrama to spice up our eggnog. Each holiday just adds another zany story that we can reflect about a year down the road as the benchmarks of our lives. Let's not get ahead of ourselves though, because the holiday season has just begun.

Confessions of a Mid-Aged Drama Queen.

(I knew with arms like that she must be hiding something in those pants.)















When I was five, my baby sitter used to sit my sister and I down on the couch for a viewing of the classic documentary “Truth or Dare.” Yes, yes, perhaps I was a little young to be watching this risqué Madonna behind the scenes tale but I look back on it now realizing she was just trying to make me a well rounded gay man. Ever the conscious baby sitter, she of course made me cover my eyes when Madonna got naked and I had no idea what all of the sexuality meant. To me it just looked like my dream dress up time and I imagine I was looking around the house in search of objects that could double as her famous “cone” bras.

Sitting in my apartment last night I received a text message from my sister telling me to turn on the new Madonna concert special on NBC. Aside from the fact that the editing made me feel like I was having a seizure, Madonna continued to scare me outfit change after outfit change. First things first, while yes it is amazing that this woman is 47, looks like a man from a Chelsea gym and can do yoga like a Cirque De Soleiel acrobat, it is also CREEPY to me. The idea of someone my mom’s age straddling a saddle and riding it around above an audience of thousands of gay men while singing “Like A Virgin” burns my brain.

("My Little (Yoga) Pony, My Little (Yoga) Pony." I'm gonna hump it.)

I was trying to explain to my friend Nick my relationship with Madonna. To me she has always been this entertainingly pretentious diva for whom the word “excess” doesn’t seem to exist. Watching the set and costume design for this tour last night I am convinced that someone came up with an “S&M My Little Pony”-theme during their latest acid trip. To add to the political comment they must have thought, “Hey, Mel Gibson stirred up some controversy with a crucifix…why don’t we have a section where Madonna pretends she’s Christ!” BIZARRE. Now all of a sudden songs that were about humping someone in a dance club are being transformed into adoption agency ads as facts about African babies flash in the background.

(Ha Ha! No caption necessary.)

The next outfit had to have been my favorite. For the life of me I cannot find a picture of it online but let me attempt to explain. Basically it looked like Madonna’s head was being pooped out of some birds’ booty. I decided that after the part before where either a) Madonna DID have a seizure mid-stage or b) that really was some sort of yoga, she threw her neck out and continued to perform. Rather than have a NORMAL neck brace they thought we shall adorn it with feathers that will eat her face. For physical therapy purposes during this time let’s strap a guitar in her hand and let her strum like a 10-year old boy in his room.

(YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Bird Woman!)

It was during this section as Nick and I were laughing that all of a sudden my TV started beeping. As we turned our heads we realized Madonna was going into some expletive ridden rage. “If you don’t like my attitude then you can fuck off” she exclaimed before launching into “Just fly to Texas then you can beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.” After careful examination we translated those beeps into “Just fly to Texas where you can suck George Bush’s cock” or something of the sorts. Ah, even her political statements are sassy.

My favorite moment of the night came when, between songs, she posed the analytical mind-blower “We all know how to talk the talk, but how many of us can walk the walk?” Then she started stripping and posed, eerily smiling at the camera like a Stepford Wife. Even with her new political attempts, she hasn’t changed much since I was five and that’s why through all of this insanity I still have an odd fascination with her. Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is all about? Reminiscing by way of disco-themed Madonna concerts? Thanks NBC.

Gorging (A word that’s almost as disgusting as the feeling it explains.)

It’s time for a break. The world that I am living in right now is stressing me out to the point where the only medicine seems to be the idea of gorging myself on a massive meal two days from now. At that point I will be hours into my “vacation” with a smile plastered on my face. The life of being ABT is a strenuous one but it is often broken up by large chunks of the year where we are on break. That break is not only beneficial to our physical health but our mental health as well. Right now I am in need of both and from the look of the dilapidated eyes that peer at each other as I gaze around the studio, I am not the only one.

For me, my life works better when I have down time and recently I feel as if that has been a bit impossible. So venting has to take the place of downtime, and the other night that is just what I did as a newly brunette David and I went out to dinner and then had a Magnolia cupcake dessert. With how close everyone in the company is, it is always a bit strange going from seeing them 24/7 to not at all for a month but I am a believer in the idea that absence makes the heart grow fonder. As close as we all are, as David pointed out to me recently, I think we all just need a little room to breathe. Time apart can, on occasion, be as beneficial as time together.

(Mmmmmmmmmmmagnolia's YUMMY as is David's new hair and the name of the new Gwen Stefani song I am hooked on.)

Not that getting out of ABT means everything is lollipops and rainbows because there is always work to be done. Blog superstar Adrienne, Jackie, Blaine and myself spent part of our day off doing the difficult work of being photographed across the East Village. We did our best to come up with some cheesy “urban dancer” (perhaps coining a new phrase for strippers) poses that will make the Montanans giddy with anticipation of our arrival. Adrienne’s fabulous husband John was kind enough to be our bag lady and blogographer (wow…another new phrase!) doing some behind the scenes shots. Here is the official sneak peak! Weeks before the rest of the world will see it. How special do you feel?

("Aren't they sassy city folk?" the Montanan's will exclaim.)

("Or are they those homosexual city folk?" they will question as we try to explain that it is perfectly normal to break into partnering mid-block.)

(John deserves a blog picture shout out for all of his hard work. Here seen grimicing as Tony photographs us in the background. Perhaps he is sad because he hasn't heard "Yummy" which you can check out below. Although I think John might vomit like you do when you gorge yourself, if he listened to this type of music.)

The King.

I have just finished the final page of one of the most compelling books I have ever read and get this, it was a biography! For some reason a few months ago I decided I was in the mood to read some non-fiction and wandered over to a book simply titled “de Kooning” at the Metropolitan Museum gift shop. I purchased it and started reading on the subway ride home. From the first page to the last, this book was one of the most beautifully written character studies I have ever read, fiction or non. As I sat in this coffee shop today reading about his slow and painful journey towards death I couldn’t help but feel as if I was not ready to part with him; 650 pages of a persons’ life will have that affect on you.

Words cannot explain how highly I would recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the creation of art. People around me know that I have been nursing this book for over two months (I picked something up in the middle) but every page was insightful in a way I could never have imagined. It spans the 20’s through the 90’s in New York and paints a vivid picture of what it was like to live in the presence of abstract expressionists at their peak. The people in this book did not just create art, they were their art. Completely devoured by it almost to the point of obsession, de Kooning was in a state of constant analysis and change. It is a testament to the power that never settling can have on a person. Whether it was in his art, or his love life he was always searching for something just out of reach yet that didn’t diminish his happiness.

Interest in de Kooning seems to be growing exponentially these days and while I think some of his art is genius, just as much of it I don’t understand. Throughout this book though I got the feeling that I was watching him intimately creating his greatest works and living through his most joyous highs and devastating lows. Walking around Christies last week (before the record setting sale of his work) I was awed by the impact these paintings have with the knowledge I now possess. This book made me hungry for art, which is a rare accomplishment. Artists all have something to learn from this book and I will say it once again, buy it.

("Woman I," the masterpiece that can be seen at MOMA.)

"If you are an artist the problem is to make a picture work whether you are happy or not." –de Kooning

"The group instinct could be a good idea, but there is always some little dictator who wants to make his instinct the group instinct." –de Kooning

"Contraries should live together in the same mind; that was the space of truth.”-de Kooning

“It was the journey, not the final destination that mattered. The image of the artist as romantic voyager should enthrall the mind’s eye, not just the postcard left behind.”-The authors Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan

“The secret of interesting talk is not to deliver lines but to invent…”-Saul Steinberg

When men landed on the moon, he quipped, “We haven’t landed on earth yet.”

“Then there is a time in life when you just take a walk: And you walk in your own landscape.”-de Kooning

First Glimpse….

I juggled with the idea of putting this video up here but as you can see I decided to just do it. Be warned that it is rough in every sense of the word, as we are just getting started putting it together. It will be obvious that transitions are being worked out as well as timing (seeing we both had different ideas of when the pirouettes were starting, therefore the lack of any success.) On a whole though this video will give everyone an idea of where I am going with Snow Pas. The giant music in the middle where we are walking around is a "bird" lift and the final moments of the pas are gentle little jete's circling each other and exiting downstage on opposite sides as Clara follows us. Speaking of "bird"s, my arms are looking much like broken bird wings as I mark through things. It's funny and frightening watching yourself on video as you notice everything you do wrong (and right in some rare cases) and notice bad habits. Mine happens to be what every teacher stresses NOT to do, marking the arms. The video contains the snow pas, pointless marking of my first solo and Jackie's first blip of a solo (both solos include corps framing.) Enjoy!

Worlds Colliding….

(No people were harmed in the creation of this post, just this poor innocent umbrella. Let us take a moment of silence for the loss of its life to bring you this entertainment.)


The blogs have collided in an unprecedented moment that can only mean one thing...fun parties in mid-town Manhattan! Last night I attended my first ever "guest list" event in NYC and had a great time. First I need to thank the fabulous Kristin Sloan (of The Wingerfame, for inviting David who in turn invited me. As we trudged through the sheets of rain getting farther and farther away from civilization all the way over on 10th avenue, I hoped that it would be worth it. Sometimes all I want to do after rehearsal is go home and be a couch potato but recently I have been out non-stop (as is evident by the lack of blogging.) I decided to continue my run last night and attend a graffiti event put on by LVHRD (Kristen's boyfriends' organization.)


(Bloggers unite!)








Perched on the top floor of a seemingly bland building, the event was anything but. When we walked into the huge loft surrounded by giant windows on every side, all I saw was white. White walls, white shirts, and me in my colors not knowing that one of the suggestions was to come dressed in white. Oops. Regardless of my wardrobe David and I picked up a beer (the event was sponsored by Brahma) and proceeded to mingle. After a full day of Othello my brain was failing me but things picked up when I met Kristin. It has been a long time coming and I am happy to report that she is just as exciting in real life as she seems to be on The Winger. She is smart, beautiful and ambitious and very interesting to talk to. It's nice meeting a fellow blogger because I don't feel quite as ridiculous asking to do some pictures.

Once the event got under way, the amazing and prolific graffiti artist Speto took the stage to create a work right in front of our eyes. Whenever I watch any form of art I always wish I could be around for the creation process because I feel like sometimes the intentions and the execution can be more exciting than the final result. Watching him have complete control of the canvas as he used his spray cans was mesmerizing and David and I sat in a bit of a trance for a large part of the thirty minutes he took to paint it.

(Midway through the process.)

(The finished product which he compared to woodwork.)

Sitting and listening to him speak (in broken but decent English, seeing he is from Brazil) made me have a new found respect for street art. It is something that as I am walking around the village I recognize but I guess a part of me doesn't take the work too seriously. After a day spent in the galleries of Chelsea with my friend Arch examining paintings being sold for $40,000 it is quite the juxtaposition to see something so "urban." Any surface can be used to create art and whether it is on a brick wall or a smooth canvas really makes no difference. Hell, even de Kooning went through a phase where he painted on doors and his painting just sold for a record breaking $27.2 million at Christies Auction House this week.

(Newfound gallery on 23rd street. It's like a constant battle for who has the most striking space. This one from the outside takes the cake.)

After going from the beautiful galleries to the different but still striking space the party was in, I became aware that the means to create art are everywhere. It's just a matter of DOING it.

Blah Blah All Over Again.

Memory is a finicky thing. As I walked blinky eyed through the Lower East Side tonight I was struck by memories of similar strolls where I had discovered the "Blah Blah" sign that has become such a staple of my blog. Only this time things were different; it was a new wall, a new day, a new person to see it with and on a whole a completely new memory forming. Parallels are created as we walk through our lives only sometimes we remember them one second only to forget them the next. And oh what tricks memories play on us!

Sitting in the lounge today I was aware of how quickly things that were second nature to us quickly fade as the dancers tried to remember how to write a cursive alphabet. People gave their most comedic representations of upper-case d's (somehow they have become very phallic with age) and time has misconstrued something that was once solid. Something that was hammered into our brains in 3rd grade has somehow become completely loose.

(Kristi displays her natural talent for Hieroglyphic-like cursive.)

The lesson of the night is; memories really can fuck with us. When we need memory to come to our aid to reinforce ideas or perceptions we have, it is right there at times and oddly vacant at others. Other times memory of the past can taint the present. That old relationship coming back to bite the new one, that better piece of pizza you had somewhere else, whatever it is....memory is a constant reminder of what we have and what we don't. Right now I don't have any partnering skills but my memory is telling me that I used to. Damn those memories!

Sometimes memories are so great that I worry about whether or not things will live up to them. Is there ever a way to truly "live in the moment?" Or are memories constantly enrichiing us and making us jaded at the same time? It's a strange feeling to have but comparison of memories is inevitable. Was this blah better than the last blah? The world may never know.

On a completely unrelated sidenote, I had the best Italian food in recent memory tonight at Frankies on Clinton off of Houston. Delicious doesn't even begin to describe it. Go see for yourself! Also if you have time and are in NYC today go to Christies auction house (49th btwn. 5th and 6th) to witness some of the most stunning modern art you will ever see. Both of these things are sure to cement themseleves in your memory and therefore make everything after pale in comparison.

Nicole Wolcott Is My New Goddess.

Last night I made an exciting dance discovery down at “Dance New Amsterdam.” After an exhausting workweek, I must say that I wasn’t too eager to be going to a dance show. When I got on the train with Carson and Scott to go down to the Financial District but ended up in Brooklyn I REALLY wasn’t looking forward to it. I couldn’t have been more surprised by this wonderful performance of “Portraits” by “Keigwin + Company.”

A company of less than 10 dancers, every piece was overflowing with originality and talent on every level. Of course this shouldn’t have surprised me much seeing a fabulous friend from Montana, Nicole Wolcott, is both an incredible dancer and the associate artistic director of the company. What really did surprise me was the variety and consistency of the choreography. Credited mainly to Artistic Director Larry Keigwin (with help from Nicole and other dancers on some works) it was one of the first shows I have seen in a long time that was laugh out loud funny at moments then subtle and touching the next.

(Nicole slinks around a bit. )

I am always intrigued when people can manage to use pop music without making it seem like tacky competition dance and the “Female Portraits” were a testament to the fact that it is possible. Nicole did an incredible solo to “Stand Back” by Stevie Nicks, complete with hair blowing fan. While hers was perhaps the strongest solo, she was matched in the rest of the program by Ying-Ying Shiau (who rocked out to Cyndi Lauper’s “Change of Heart.”)

Even in the most touching moments there was still humor as was evident in the final piece “Love Songs.” A series of 6 duets using 3 different couples, each one follows the development of love and it’s different forms: naïve flirtation, lustful intensity and heartbreak. As I watched the first and fourth duets danced by Ying-Ying and Patrick Ferren, I found them so touching I just wanted to dance them in a studio with a friend.

(Nicole gets thrown around a bit.)

All of the dancers were beautiful throughout and the choreography so consistent, I wish that there were more than one show left. Keigwin has a distinctive movement vocabulary that focuses on the most minute of movements from the fingers to the tilt of the head and I found all of it thrilling. I even professed interest in working with him at some point if he was ever looking for dancers. Could be a fun exploration on the side of ABT. Possibilities have already been thrown around which is exciting to me, so stay tuned. If you can get your ass down to DNA by 3 this afternoon I suggest you do so. Judging from the audience last night the show will be sold out again today so call before hand!

(Schmoozing at the after party.)