Tonight I sat in a cage and rested my chin on a pole extending in front of my face. The pole connected to a post, which led the floor of the Metropolitan Opera House's downstage left wing. For three acts of a ballet, I hovered above the people who I used to see a daily basis as they performed “Don Q.”
It was one of the first ballets I performed with ABT, and as I observed from the photographer's position known as “the cage,” I felt a torment awake inside of me that clashed with the jovial nature of the dancing below. Old friends paraded on stage -- swishing their skirts, beating their tambourines -- and I felt the stillness of my body in comparison. As I inched closer to the edge of my railing-less perch, dancers took notice and began to flash smiles my way; a game of sorts - 'how many glances can we sneak in without notifying the audience of an offstage presence?'
With each consecutive glance I felt a screen solidify in front of my eyes. It was as if I was watching a movie of my old life, full of characters staring out from the celluloid into the abyss. The Latin fire pervaded the barrier as corps members clapped rhythmically to the beat. My heart replied, sending blood down my arms and through my hands, urging them to clap along as they used to; I reached for a camera to steady my confusion.
Acts progressed and my posture defied my dancer nobility as the weight of jealously, sickness, nostalgia, and comfort pressed down on my shoulders. I clapped, not as the dancers did, but as an audience member, and lifted myself to stand; I had to get out of the cage.
LOVE!
Posted by: Beckylooo | June 14, 2008 at 12:37 AM
Very eloquent, Matt. Such a conflict of emotions. Will you be sharing your photos? I'm sorry to have missed David's Don Q debut. I'll be there this afternoon - not sure if he's dancing the second lead. Maybe not scheduled two days in a row?
Posted by: Barbara | June 14, 2008 at 07:26 AM
Actually didn't take many photos during the show (and unable to share the ones I did because of rules). David was gorgeous. Stepped out of his comfort zone with flying colors. Will be sharing some pictures of him preparing backstage.
Posted by: M | June 14, 2008 at 11:17 AM
As if you weren't in a figurative cage...you had to be in a literal one?!! I'm thinking too much, too soon, too close.
This is tough stuff. I am sorry.
Posted by: kathy | June 14, 2008 at 02:42 PM
That was beautifully written Matt. And it's great to hear that David's performance was gorgeous, as usual.
Was the performance also Michele's debut in Don Q? How did she go?
Posted by: Cathy | June 14, 2008 at 11:38 PM
please publish a book of short stories (autobiographical or not) ! each is a poignant snapshot like your photos. your photos could illustrate it (literally, or just tonally/moodly (?))
Posted by: lindsey | June 15, 2008 at 02:28 AM
1st- i remember supering in japan two years ago in don q as the taverna woman with you as the waiter.
2nd- I love the cage, its the best seat in the whole house. Last week during etudes/tharp I would go up there every night to watch tharp and draw. I feel like my love of ballet and where I find most joy in watching it is embedded in all the times I've watched from the wings or from the cage. It becomes a whole other story or gains a whole new meaning. Each breath you can hear a dancer make from up there adds to the weight of the performance and you can gain a sense of how much this means to them.And when youre up in the cage, it's like you're a secret. The audience doesn't know you're there and the audience doesn't know that the dancer looking up in you're direction is looking at you. Hands down I've had some of my best ballet memories up there resting on that same exact pole.
Posted by: Sarah Sterner | June 15, 2008 at 11:07 AM
What powerful language and diction that proves your writing can have an impact not because of its length, but because of the way it speaks to the reader.
"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog."
Posted by: Nick | June 16, 2008 at 12:30 AM