I wanted to share a few more pictures from a rehearsal for Avi Scher's upcoming season at Ailey Citigroup Theater. I've long been a fan of Avi's work and have had the opportunity to photograph his company throughout its development. These latest pieces are some of his most ambitious yet, and feature an all-star cast of dancers like New York City Ballet's Sara Mearns and American Ballet Theatre's Marcelo Gomes, both pictured here. Enjoy! And grab your tickets today!
Stopped by the gorgeous Ailey Studios this afternoon to photograph Avi Scher's rehearsal for his upcoming debut season. Not only did it give me a chance to preview some of the new choreography he's working on, but I got to catch up with my former co-workers Marcelo Gomes and Veronika Part of ABT, as well as NYCB's Sara Mearns (photos of that lovely lady coming soon). Looks like it's going to be a fantastic season, so be sure to pick up your tickets today!
(The Fourth of July celebrates one of America's favorite pastimes: EATING. So at the first barbecue I attended last week, the big question was, "Whadda we eat?!" Here are a few menu options.)
(What better way to satiate the palate than with a beer or two? Isaac looms over the aftermath.)
(Bella is so delicious that you may want to eat her up, but she's a bit furry...and a dog. Why else would she be sitting at attention, waiting for food to drop to the ground? I could never get away with that.)
(Sure, the cake that Nicole made was delicious, but there were so many more unique menu options!)
(We don't need typical (and delicious) American fare when we could...)
(Eat Kristi's foot.)
(Or David's head.)
(Speaking of heads...light Marcelo's on fire and you've got Brazilian flambe!)
(But who needs food when you can dance! It's all the nourishment you need. (Cue "The More You Know" music and shooting star.)
One of my favorite parts about Met season was always the dressing room. Only, I had a habit of spending a lot of time in Marcelo and David's dressing room rather than my own. The accommodations for the corps are pleasant, but the Principal dressing rooms take the cake. During breaks I would wander down to their cushioned, private corner of the Opera House and spend time with two guys who not only inspire me, but make me laugh unlike anyone else.
It's rare that two Principal men are on for the same performance, so when I stopped by to catch David's debut in "Don Q" I couldn't help snapping a few photos documenting their preparation for the show!
Last Saturday night marked ABT's memorial tribute to Jennifer Alexander. Most of you will remember that Jennifer, a dearly beloved corps member of ABT for 13 years, passed away last December. Included in the celebration of Jennifer's life was a piece that Marcelo Gomes choreographed for two of Jennifer and her husband Julio's closest friends, Isaac Stappas and Kristi Boone. It was a simple and elegant pas de deux that celebrated the love shared between Julio and Jennifer; a perfect way to honor Jenny.
I had the chance to photograph the pas a few months ago.
Walking up to Lincoln Center for ABT’s gala a few nights ago, I was filled with thoughts of my eighteen-year-old self on my first day of work. There was a fountain then. Now there is scaffolding devouring the majority of the plaza. Construction workers danced their machines around the disarray on Monday night, drilling new foundation as patrons scattered and searched for a place to wait for their dates. Fortunately I had the lovely Sterling Hyltin as mine.
After wrestling with myself over whether or not to attend the annual opening of the season celebration, I found myself staring in the mirror, meticulously tying my new silver tie at 5:40 on the afternoon of the show; apparently I was going. First the tie was too long, then it was too short, then finally, exasperated, I managed to get it just right and journeyed uptown for what I knew would be a bittersweet evening; in many ways this gala signals the beginning of the end of my time in the company.
One of the most difficult aspects of leaving ABT has been losing the day-to-day life I’d grown accustomed to. As a young dancer right out of high school I found comfort not only in doing what I love with one of the best companies in the world, but also in the family that company created.
Years passed and I developed relationships spanning the ranks. Some continue to be fraught with tension, while others started as surface friendships that later revealed themselves to be trusted companions. In many ways my work life was my social life. Even though I always knew the difficulties of mixing work and play, I also felt lucky to find so much in one place. Those comforts began to fade away when I was diagnosed with EBV.
(I almost wore that (you know, to avoid any tie drama), but then I heard she was and that would have been a DISASTER. I would have looked so much better...obviously.)
Dealing with this illness has prompted a reorganization of my life on every level. It simply isn’t possible for me to populate my life with only dancers when it acts as a constant reminder of what I’m unable to do right now. But stripping away my work life meant taking away much of my New York family. Therefore the gala ended up being a family reunion of sorts.
After an overly long program (as is the case with galas) full of season highlights (and a few random selections, including the “Onegin” pas de deux danced by Marcelo Gomes and the incomparable Julie Kent), Sterling and I swirled down the stairs from the top tier of the Met where we’d been seated. We pushed our way through the meandering patrons and finally reached fresh air, and a bundle of dancers, outside. I took a deep breath and gave Sterling a hug as we parted ways; I would brave the party on my own.
(Sterling and I pose for the paparazzi after the show.)
Each year the festivities are held in a large tent resting in the shadow of the Met Opera House. What looks like a haz-mat tent on the outside, all white tarp and rope, makes way to a cavernous space filled with round tables, two dance floors and a band. A majority of the dancers are seated in the rear half of the room, and all I hoped for was to be at a table with a group of people I knew.
I scanned the seating chart, a piece of paper that resembled a disheveled game of tic-tac-toe, and found my name by table 25. It was practically falling off the paper, as it was situated in the furthest corner from the entryway. Another deep breath and I made my way through the crowd.
It wasn’t long before I arrived at my table and felt a wave of relief as familiar faces welcomed me. Sean Stewart, Daniel Keene, Kenny Easter, Eric Tamm; it was going to be okay. Before I knew it we were catching up about the goings on in the company while I did my best to avoid talking about being sick. In short, it’s draining to catch up with 80 of your family members about health struggles. Yet somehow I thought a shirt detailing the most recent updates wouldn’t look flattering with my suit.
Being on the periphery of the tables gave me an opportunity to sit back and relax as dancers made their rounds once dinner was over. The two dance floors filled up with couture-clad patrons and the occasional celebrity (Kelly Ripa, Donald Trump and Sigourney Weaver were in attendance) while I savored my dessert. All the while I couldn’t help but reminisce about my first Met party when I danced the night away. New company members flitted through the room with the same abandon that we all possessed at one point.
The night wore on and I began to feel tired from just watching the dancers eat up the dance floor. Coats were hooked around seatbacks, and ties began to come undone while the cover band continued their assault of elevator remixes of today’s pop hits. I wove my way through the crowd and said my goodbyes before slipping out as quietly as possible.
Once I made my way out of the tent I was confronted with the sight of a fountain-less plaza, once again. It occured to me that I had stopped to sit at the fountain after every one of the previous Met galas. The hope is that the new fountain will be better than the old, but it’s hard not to miss it while it’s gone.
(Goddess Anne Milewski and I look sibling-y.)
(Marcelo and Anne cozy up with...Grant.)
(Eric steals some dessert.)
Here's the second batch of photos from Marcelo Gomes' world premiere ballet, "Tacaca," debuting tomorrow night at the Youth America Grand Prix Gala! A huge merde to Marcelo, Sarwannee Tanatanit, and Blaine Hoven for tomorrow night!
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR THE WONDERFUL SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST!!! IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME!
Wednesday was one of the busiest days I've had in the past year. I managed to make time for all three of my passions: writing, dancing, and dolphin training photography.
Even though my backpack made me feel like I was carrying a full-grown person on my shoulders, I was limber enough to sneak around the studio and capture some pictures from Marcelo Gomes' new piece, "Tacaca."
The piece marks Marcelo's New York choreographic debut and will be performed on Monday night at the Youth America Grand Prix Gala. Be sure to grab a ticket if you can get your hands on one!
With such gorgeous subjects as Sarwanee Tanatanit (her hair!) and Blaine Hoven, it's hard to go wrong. Many more pictures to come!!!
All photos © Matthew Murphy 2008.
(Warning: Intense brain fog today...please forgive any issues with this post!)
I can't believe that it's already been a year. This past Wednesday I celebrated my 22nd birthday and it was a bittersweet occasion. The unfortunate fact of the matter is that my birthday now acts as a reminder of the last time I felt healthy. Things went downhill rather quickly after I turned 21 in Minneapolis last year, and it wasn't even a month before I succumbed to the trials of Epstein Barr Virus. I knew that this celebration was going to be emotional, but it also ended up being a wonderful in unexpected ways
The day started out a bit boring; some apartment cleaning, a minor breakdown, and lounging around saving up energy for the night's festivities. However, it wasn't long until Carson and our friend Melissa showed up to put a smile on my face and treat me to my first pedicure ever. There's nothing like letting a random woman cut your toenails and gasp at your calluses; confidence booster indeed. As pleasant as that experience was, it was all in preparation for the required footwear of the evening: bowling shoes.
The guest list for the night was an eclectic assortment of my friends, many who had never hung out before. I always get a bit nervous when mixing groups, but from the moment we arrived at Bowlmor, it was clear that everyone was in the mood to mingle.
(All pictures by Timur Civan.)
(My one and only girlfriend Ashley catches up with Carson as I loom in the background. I make a good hat.)
(Carson looks grumpy that I chose to enter the picture. Tough. Just enjoying a crazy night out with my special celebratory birthday drink: Coca-Cola! Craziness, indeed.) 
(Not sure what I made Marcelo laugh about. Obviously I'm hilarious.) 
(The fabulous Erin picks out a ball that is bigger than her entire body.)
(Alec knows that the black light is the perfect opportunity to show off his pearly whites.)
(Julio gives bowling lessons to the onlookers.) 
(Thinking about getting back together? No, just talking about how fierce we looked in our prom photo.)
(Be careful...Melissa will eat your face.) 
(Feeling my generous heart? Or smearing beer on my chest?)
(Melissa celebrates the fact that she is wearing grey and white stripes...just like Carson and me!)
(Marcelo and Julio celebrating a strike? Or the fact that Britney Spears has a new anime music video out? )
(Carson gets the coolest shot of the night and proves that she MIGHT be a speed skater. Look at that form!)
(It's possible that my leg is asleep in this picture. Or made of wood. That being said, I did beat everyone . That's right...blogger AND bowling champion.) 
(Hence the Evita pose.)
