If the shoe fits…

Okay, so here’s the final installment in my “Crazy Dance-Filled Week” extravaganza. Then I promise to get back to more recent history!

After dancing in two very different performances and taking a master class I got to head back to the Boston Opera House to take in their premiere of Sir Frederick Ashton’s “Cinderella.”

I’m usually a “First Saturday” attendee, but since I was already booked to be ON a different stage, I had to switch my tickets. Not a big deal, but this was a popular show and I didn’t get around to switching tickets until late, so the seats weren’t as good as usual. Nevertheless…

I was excited to see this one. And my excitement stemmed from a very silly reason. See, I was addicted to the show Breaking Pointe when it was on and during much of the taping in the second season Ballet West was rehearsing and performing this exact version of Cinderella. Since the television series obviously could only show little snippets of the ballet (and very few at that… actual dancing would take away from the interpersonal dRaMa!!! they tried to stuff down the viewer’s throat in that season), I wanted to know what this thing was all about.

This was BB’s premiere of Ashton’s Cinderella. They’ve performed other versions before, though I’ve not seen them. The only other Cinderella ballet I’ve seen was some backwater Russian company. And then, of course, there was our own version that we put on for the studio’s annual show last year. Not to disparage either of those versions, but I was pretty sure BB’s production of Ashton’s version would blow both of those out of the water.

Which — of course — it did.

Now, I’ve become quite used to the fact that the sets and lighting are generally spectacular, and this show was no different, from the dark and dreary kitchen that Cinderella whiles away most of her hours to the palace ballroom. The costuming was similarly evocative. As for the plot…

Well, I mean, you know the basic story of Cinderella, or at the very least have probably sat through Walt Disney’s take on it at least once. That basic plot was there, though there were some aspects that I didn’t quite understand.

First up was the fact that Cinderella’s father is VERY much alive in this story. I spent a lot of time wondering why the heck this guy who purportedly loves his daughter so very much forces her to scrub grates while the rotten stepsisters gallivant around. If there had been a stepmother I may have been able to buy it a bit more, but there was not a step-mommy to be found. According to the program notes he is afraid of his stepdaughters. Okay, sure, the stepdaughters were rather a burly and unruly pair (more on that in a minute), but really? To be so cowed by a pair of obnoxious wannabe socialites that you allow your own kid to be treated like a stray dog… I don’t get it.

Anyway, the fairy godmother enters, initially in the form of a mysterious beggar-woman that Cinderella acts kindly towards even though Heckle and Jeckle asked her to bugger off. FG rewards her kindness with gifts presented by fairies representing the four seasons. Except… I didn’t get the whole “gifts” thing. In other versions the gifts have been tangible and included the infamous, fancy shoes. Maybe it’s just that my seats were so far away from the stage that I missed the transfer of gifts. This part was beautifully danced but I still didn’t get it.

Never mind, on to Act II, AKA “The Ball.” There was the requisite prancing around by the generic “ball-goers” including some comic relief from two characters named Napoleon and Wellington. There seemed to be a group of people that served as human scenery in this part. Maybe they were playing the role of wallflowers. Not sure. I did notice that the wallflower ladies appeared to be wearing pointe shoes, but I swear I never saw them execute a single balletic step, let alone one that appeared en pointe. Or maybe I just zoned out during that part. Anyway, Cinderella then appears and dazzles all, particularly Price Princey (he has no name… but I suppose if a guy is going to fall in love with some random chick without knowing a damned thing about her he doesn’t really deserve a name… at least they didn’t turn his name into a symbol… *snort*). More lovely dancing until, alas!, midnight strikes. I actually quite liked this part of the ballet, especially when it came time to *poof!* Cinderella back into her run-of-the-mill self. It was so well done that it really seemed magical.

But then — okay, I had been warned about this part by the director of our company who had seen the show the week before, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so painfully obvious — Princey holds up a blindingly sparkly pointe shoe and starts the whole “We must find that girl!” brouhaha. My problem is not his attempt to find her, it’s the fact that the entire time she was dancing as fancy Cinderella she was wearing her trusty, pink, satin Freeds (or whatever it is that Ashley Ellis wears). They pasted no sparkles on those shoes! MAJOR plot hole right there!

So, curtain down, curtain up. Act III, or “Find that Girl!!!” Much comedy ensues resulting in, you guessed it, happily ever after. Hurrah.

Plot holes aside, the dancing.

Okay, one thing I love about story ballets is that, ideally, you get to see a bit of acting from the dancers. And in ballets that allow for a bit of fun (some story ballets take their silly plots far too seriously), you get to see some great comedy, even a bit of slapstick. The stepsisters in this were particularly hilarious. In our show they were played by Robert Kretz and Sabi Varga. Yes, that’s right, stepsisters played by men. Sit back, close your eyes, and imagine that for a minute. Truly hilarious. They were easily my favorite part of the whole thing; from the scenes of them in various states of undress to trying valiantly to put the slippers on at the end it was pure genius.

But the dancing technique showcased in this show really stood out to me. I suppose it helps to put Ashton’s version of Cinderella in context: this was the first full-length ballet he put together for Sadler’s Wells Ballet back in 1948. Technical expectations have grown significantly since then, but when performing Ashton’s Cinderella you do it they way he choreographed it, not the way we might choreograph something similar in this day and age. As a result, the steps had an almost quaint feel to them. I don’t mean that to be disparaging at all. As a matter of fact, I quite liked it. The extensions were generally kept low and the combinations relatively simple. I think this allowed the story to come through more genuinely than it might have otherwise. I think back to when I saw BB put on Sleeping Beauty last year with Lia Cirio as Aurora. She was beautiful (not sure how she could be anything but), but with her amazing talent and technique it was hard to buy into the idea that her character was only 16-years-old. In this the steps did not overpower the characterization, which I greatly appreciated.

Can’t say that Cinderella is my favorite ballet, but I loved feeling the history that came through on this one!

Bow to the master

After my two performances in the span of five days there was still more dance to experience to truly round out the week.

The day after my second performance at the DWTS competition was a day for a master class!

The director of our studio had arranged for a series of four master classes taught by different teachers from the area. I eagerly signed up for all of them, but there was one small hitch in my giddy-up. They all took place on Friday afternoons at 5:30. I work in the city. Nearly every Friday afternoon, particularly during ski season, summer, or leaf-peeping season (which translates to nearly every Friday afternoon) there is no chance in hell of getting home swiftly.

This is not to say I didn’t try. I left work early every single day we had a master class. No matter. I was always getting back home too late to go to class (if it were one of our own classes I would’ve just snuck in late with my apologies, but there was no way I’d do something like that when we had a guest teacher!).

One Friday I had even finagled my work schedule to work from home so that I could be able to take a class with one particular teacher, but that class ended up being postponed at the last minute because it was the day before school break and not many people had signed up for the class. Argh! Only silver lining to that one was that it meant I could go see Puremovement.

So that one teacher — a teacher that one of our teachers regularly takes class from — was rescheduled for mid-March. Although I hadn’t had any luck getting to the other classes in time, I gamely tried again. And this time whatever chants I offered up to the traffic gods FINALLY paid off! My bus pulled into my station with half an hour to spare. When I rushed into the studio I was met with cheers from my friends who knew how bummed I was to have missed the prior classes.

I took my spot at the barre with a couple minutes to spare. “Ah, you’re the nurse!” the teacher said. Uh-oh, my reputation precedes me. Actually, it turns out that this teacher, our teacher who studies with her, and myself are ALL nurses. Maybe we should start a support group: “Ballerina-Nurses Anonymous.”

“You’ve had quite the commute. Did you had time to eat? I have a banana if you want!” Okay, I don’t even know this lady and already I adore her. I assured her that I was fine, really, and ready to go. A bit more chitchat while a few other people trickled in and we were ready to go.

The tone in this class was so much more serious than usual. But, see, this lady was funny. She had that wry sense of humor that I love and, though strict, was in no way mean or harsh. I could easily see myself sitting at a bar with her and having a bunch of hearty laughs. But there were no laughs… okay, there were some laughs, but they were polite and immediately followed by serious concentration. I was impressed to see how much our young girls especially were eager to soak up whatever wisdom this teacher had to pass on.

She started by telling us that she received her training at SAB. Yes, that SAB! She was, as she said, “A Balanchine baby” (for she was there when Balanchine was still alive). She told us that she would see Gelsey Kirkland walking around when she studied there. All of us adults in the room had to hang onto our barres to stop ourselves from swooning. The teens didn’t quite get the gravity of these words. To be fair, when I was their age I wouldn’t have gotten it either. But I was glad that I can not only appreciate it now, but also still learn from someone with that sort of history!

With that introduction we began two hours of grueling work. When I say grueling, I don’t mean physically. Though it was physically challenging, to be sure. But it wasn’t the constant go-go-go of class. In between sides and exercises the teacher took a ton of time explaining some of the finer points of technique: seemingly small things that can make a world of difference but are more difficult to achieve than it would seem at first glance. Like how to point your foot. Seems basic, but so many of us think only of the foot, especially once we get going, and forget that the initiation for the movement should come from the ankle, not the mid-foot. Things like pulling up All. The. Way. when standing. Your knees may feel straight, but can you see daylight between those thighs? That’s a no-no! There were so many things that she mentioned it was hard to remember everything, though I desperately wanted to! She was great about praising when we got stuff right, though. Such a good class!

Now the good news is that this teacher offers an adult class not too far from me on Sunday mornings and my teacher friend regularly attends, so one of these days I’m going to have to go and experience her teaching again. In the meantime, I’ve got a few corrections that have been constantly running through my head and trying to apply whenever I’m in class.

Sometimes a single class can have a huge impact!

TED Ed talks ballet

A coworker sent me the link to this video and then about 5 minutes later I saw the BB posted the link on their FB page.

It’s about to go viral, people!

But, seriously, if you haven’t seen this yet, take a look as Kathleen Breen Combes gives a great discussion on the evolution of ballet.

I particularly love when she talks about the uncomfortable laughter that certain pieces can generate. I’ve been in audiences when that’s happened. I could be annoyed by the laughter (okay, sometimes I am), but at the same time, that laughter says that a person has been touched. Sometimes we are confronted with emotions that don’t have a tidy name like “happiness” or “sorrow” or “embarrassment.” And sometimes we laugh (or cry) in the face of these feelings. But that outward expression belies the depth of what’s going on internally. To be able to evoke those reactions from an audience when you’re not telling a neatly outlined story almost means more than the applause or standing ovation at the conclusion of the piece. At least in my mind.

People have been trained to try to find a story in ballet. And sometimes… there is no story. There may be a thread. Or there might just be emotion set to music and told through movement. And how weird is it to feel an emotion without being able to rationalize WHY you’re feeling that feeling? I mean, really! We’re humans; we look to rationalize things. Baseless emotions make no sense.

I’ve felt similarly about pieces of music. Some songs have lyrics to explain a story. But others… I still remember hearing Gabriel Fauré’s “Pavane” for the first time. I sat, absolutely transfixed, wanting to cry (happy tears, though!). It has the same effect on me, no matter how many times I hear it.

Balanchine’s “Serenade” might fall into the same category. Alvin Ailey’s “Revelations,” too.

Life-changing stuff, even if we can’t put our finger on the why!

A Tale of Two Performances: Tale 2

And now for something completely different…

I had no time to rest up after the showcase performance because then it was time for the music school, DWTS-style, gala performance! Just like last year, I’d been invited to perform as the “professional” dance foil to a local community star.

And, just like last year, my partner was definitely not a dancer, but he WAS a good sport and was willing to try just about whatever our choreographer threw his way.

Our first challenge, albeit a good one, was that we were going to be accompanied by live music performed by the jazz band from the music school. This was great, but because of royalty issues and such, our song choices were limited. The theme was Broadway and initially it looked like we were going to get stuck with “Summertime” which is a great song, but kind of a snoozer when it comes to rallying the audience.

I joked during our first rehearsal that since this was a fund-raising gala we should perform to “Hey Big Spender”. Never mind that the song’s topic is a bit more risque than having fun at a gala, bidding high,nd bidding often. My partner loved the idea, though, so we passed our request on to the band director who, to our surprise, readily accepted our proposal. What?!

The next challenge involved a number of snow storms on our set rehearsal days and one traffic snafu on my part. We had to cram to get it all done and the final bit of choreography wasn’t set until the week before the show. Yikes!

Then came the ultimate challenge… the competition itself!

I got to the gala before the doors opened to get my stuff settled. Save for a peep of fishnet stocking, you’d never know what was up my sleeve. The other “pro” from my studio was there and once the doors opened we mixed and mingled with our “stars” trying to build some fan support. After the cocktail hour the attendees were summoned to their tables and we went up to change into our costumes. The director of our company/studio conveniently had a red, fringe-y dress, kind of flapper-ish in style hanging out in the costume room that I had borrowed. My star’s wife had found him a red, sequined tie and made him a matching pocket-square. Dapper and ready to dance!

We were second in the line-up and could see the first couple dancing through the windows while we waited our turn. They had some definite star quality and put in a very fine performance, but our confidence was not shaken! After they finished and chatted with the CEO and the judges it was our turn. Instead of explaining it I’ll give you this… judge for yourself.

Camera angle isn’t great, but I swear my “star” did manage a pretty nice jazz square and a few other bits of fancy footwork. It was a fun little piece and I think the audience liked it. For me personally, it’s just fun to get out there and show a different side of my performance personality than what people generally see from me nowadays!

After our dance there was a live auction followed by the other two couples’ dances. And then, the judging. Of course, we’d received judges’ scores immediately after our dances, but those didn’t count. The real decision was in the hands of the audience. And in their feet. And voices. Yes, it was a “noise-meter” kind of scoring. And…

Well, I’m afraid, dear reader, that a star other than my own partner managed to bring the loudest crew. It was only a baby mirrorball for us this year for best chemistry or something (how terrible is it that I don’t even know what award we won?).

Of course, the real winners were the students of the music school. It was all in good fun, and though I was a teensy bit disappointed to not be a repeat champion, I was glad to be able to be a part of it.

And… I was glad to look forward to a few weeks of no rehearsals of any kind! Phew!

A tale of two performances: Tale 1

Here’s the first of two recaps of performances that took place in the same week, but on VERY opposite sides of the spectrum. Introduction can be found here!

This was the choreography showcase. I was feeling pretty good going in. Since we had crammed at the very beginning to learn the piece, we were able to spend all the subsequent rehearsals tidying and such. I think we all felt quite prepared going in.

We got to the week of the show and our scheduled tech rehearsal. There were two showcases, no pieces were repeated between the two, and all rehearsing that night, so time was short to get everyone in. We were able to sneak in a quick walk-through during a break, but only got to run the piece once that night.

Then show day. We rehearsed one final time in the studio after class that morning, then headed to the theatre. The piece I was in was in the second show which meant that I actually got to be a regular audience member for the afternoon show, which was kind of a treat. The program was a mix of classical, contemporary, lyrical, and modern stuff, with a tap piece thrown in for good measure. Some I quite enjoyed. Others not so much. I suppose that’s the way it is with these things! Something for everyone.

Once the show was over I rushed home to bun up and slather my face in makeup before returning to the theatre for the second performance. Call was ridiculously early. I wouldn’t have minded the extra time backstage to relax, but we were, of course, sharing our dressing room with two or three other companies, so it was crowded and awkward. The sponsoring company did offer a warm-up class open to all performers. And here’s where things got a bit interesting.

The studio space at this venue is cozy and there were only a few real barres. Those of us who didn’t get a barre made do with chairs or used the wall, trying our best not to kick one another. We’d angle ourselves so as not to grand battement into the person behind, but then would end up kicking the person across the aisle instead. None of this was the interesting part, though.

As I’m sure my readers can appreciate, one of the beautiful things about ballet is the transcendental language of the art. You can go into another studio — heck, you can take class in a foreign country with a different native language — and you still know what to expect, not only in terms of exercises, but in terms of how to behave. Or, at least, that’s what I thought before now.

Perhaps people were just punchy after a long day. Maybe they had too much sugar in the between-show break. I’m not sure. But two things were very obvious in this class. Number 1 was which students belonged to the host studio. And number 2 was that these students had zero respect for their faculty member who was conducting the class. Oh, and number 3: they had zero respect for the other studios/companies who were invited to perform alongside them. It was one of the most awkward classes I’ve ever taken. I could barely catch the combinations because I couldn’t hear what the teacher was saying over the endless cackling and chit-chat that took place every time the music was off. On top of that I felt deeply embarrassed for the teacher who was doing his best to take the high road and ignore the behavior, and for the girls who were from that studio, but who were acting appropriately.

Up until this point I had viewed this studio with a lot of respect. They turn out dancers with very strong technique (we have some of their alums at our studio and they are all talented dancers). I hope that the entitlement and brattiness I witnessed was an aberration. The alums I just mentioned are all lovely, kind people. But I can’t say that I would recommend the studio to anyone after what I saw.

I can forgive an off day. Sometimes there’s a full moon or a mass case of the sillies. (I wouldn’t have minded silly… but what I observed was simply rude.) But as with everything there’s a time and a place. When you are representing your school in public that is not the time to show off your queen bee skillz. Ugh.

I must say, though… our students and those from the other studio acted as though they didn’t notice the ruckus and performed the combinations seriously. At the end they all lined up to curtsey or bow and personally thank the teacher. Unprompted, too. Way to represent! Seriously, our director would have been irate if we acted the way these kids did, especially if we were the hosts!

After the class we got into our shoes and costumes and did last-minute run-throughs in our heads before going onstage. The performance itself… well, it was a bit disappointing for at least a few of us. Nothing terrible happened, but it wasn’t nearly as smooth as it typically was in rehearsal. There were a few bobbles here and there. I think what made it more disappointing was knowing that it was a one-and-done thing. Would’ve been nice to get a do-over once we got the wobbles out of our system.

But all in all, we came, we saw, we performed.

A couple weeks later we got to see video of the performance. And while we each focused on our own missteps, I think we could all agree that when looking at it as a whole it looked quite nice and we represented our company well.

On to tale two…

Took a walk down Clarendon Street

For years now — YEARS!!! — I’ve been wanting to take a class at Boston Ballet School. In fact that was part of my big excitement when I scored my current job. I’d be in the city, oh so convenient to taking classes in Boston.

But… since starting there nearly two years ago I’ve taken, oh, ZERO classes in Boston.

Not for lack of intention, mind you. Lots of good intentions. But with a few good excuses… and more often simply neglecting to actually, you know, make a plan, it’s never come to fruition.

But the last week in February when our own studio was on break, I was determined. Determined, dammit!

Another subscriber benefit is the opportunity to get my first class at Boston Ballet School for free, so I really had nothing to lose. One of my dance friends had taken classes there before and said she’d meet me there (admittedly some of my reluctance to go was that whole fear of looking lost, confused, and out of place). So, it was set.

What I didn’t count on is the damned polar vortex or whatever they called the bone-chilling weather we were experiencing. So when I popped up out of the T station at Copley Square I set the Google maps on my phone to give me walking directions, but was too damned cold to take it out of my pocket to look at it. I just hoped my internal compass would steer me in the right general direction.

I wasn’t feeling too sure. After I left Copley Square I found myself wandering through a decidedly residential portion of the South End of town. (Very cute part of town, it may be noted. I’m afraid that despite my determination to remain aloof to Boston’s charms I’m falling hopelessly in love with this ridiculous city.) I felt a bit lost, not helped by the fact that there was barely a soul in sight, aside from one woman who was hurriedly trying to get her dog to do his business so they could duck back into their warm brownstone. This really didn’t seem quite right!

Until suddenly I noticed a small girl walking up ahead with her dad. She had her hair in a bun. Then I saw another bunned-up girl a little beyond her. Maybe I was in the right place, after all! I came to an intersection and directly across from me was a building that had huge windows emanating a soft light on the street. I could see the shadows of what appeared to be dancing behind those windows. I MUST be in the right place!

I crossed the intersection and looked into a window where there were a bunch of people who looked like they were staffing a telethon. Which would make sense… I had just received a bored-sounding voice mail from someone at BB the night before asking me to call back if I wanted to make a gift (to which I said to myself, yes, I would, but not if you’re going to sound so unenthusiastic about it!).

Sure enough, I had found BBS. I ducked into the doors and took a good look around. I stood in a lobby that was a few stories high. In front of me stairs rose up to the next level. There was a security desk in front of me to the left and a booth off to the right with a young woman assisting someone who looked like she might be there to take a class. I stepped behind her, hoping I was in the right place.

The woman in front of me finished up and the nice girl behind the desk said, “Are you here to take an open class?” Phew, I’m in the right place! I signed in, with a bit of confusion regarding the whole subscriber-free-class thing. While I was in line I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see my friend who had just arrived a minute or so behind me. I waited for her to pay and she led me up two flights of stairs to Studio 6 where the intermediate class was meeting.

We were a good 15 minutes early for class, which is a remarkable feat for both of us. But it was nice to have time to settle our stuff, pick our places at the barre, stretch, and take it all in. We had walked past a couple other studios on our way, so I knew this wasn’t the biggest room of them all, but it did feel pleasantly spacious. And it was toasty warm… not the nasty, sweaty-teenager warm I typically expect of dance studios, but like someone was cranking the radiators warm. The gathering crowd seemed pleasant enough. It was obvious who made up the contingent of regulars, but the snobbery was kept to a minimum.

Finally, it was time for class to begin. Our instructor made some brief chit chat to talk up the current and upcoming BB shows and then we got to work. He did a pre-plié exercise which I enjoy… not a lot of my teachers do them. Then we progressed in the normal sequence of barre. Nothing terribly complex, though I did get a bit lost in some parts where the ballet vocabulary was dropped in favor of some: “and a buh-buh-buh-buh-BAAHH.” The regulars knew what the guy was talking about. I waggled my foot around in some approximation of what I thought he might have meant by that terminology. If it were a class at my home studio I would’ve asked for clarification, but that didn’t seem to be the culture here, so I kept quiet. It was a nice barre, good combination of exercises, some challenges, but not outside my range. Then we moved to centre. More of the same sorts of exercises. I hung back a bit, mostly because I wasn’t sure the culture of this place and I didn’t want to inadvertently step on any toes (literally or figuratively). All in all… a good workout (loved dancing in such a warm room!), not my best performance, but certainly not my worst, either.

Will I go back? Maybe. Probably. Might try some of the other classes, even the lower levels, just to experience more teachers. My main disappointment was that I didn’t find a shining star in the group. I don’t mean a real BB star. I’m pretty sure they aren’t going to be found slumming in the open adult classes. I just mean… you know how there’s usually at least one dancer in a room who exhibits that special… something? Could be stellar technique or incredible poise or just a certain je ne sais quoi. Maybe that dancer exists but was taking the night off, I dunno. There were plenty of adequate dancers, of course. I don’t mean anything disparaging by that. I was just hoping to see someone whose dancing would blow my mind. On the flip side, I was terrified going in that I would be in way over my head. Maybe Boston intermediate would mean something more than country-mouse intermediate. My friend had assured me that we would be totally fine based on what she’d experienced before, but the class descriptions can look a bit daunting. So it was good at least get validation that I’m performing at the level I claim to have!

After reverence my friend and I went downstairs to the locker room to change and then went strolling the frigid streets of Boston in search of post-class refreshments. We found ourselves at Aquitaine, which I’d heard of but never eaten at. I’m guessing their clientele does not typically consist of slightly disheveled, post-ballet class, but they were very accomodating of our vaguely hoboish appearance and we enjoyed a very sumptuous meal which more than made up for any calories burnt in class. Whoops!

So that was that. Now that I’m no longer a BBS virgin, I expect I’ll experience much less trepidation about taking classes there in the future. I know the space a bit and no one came after me with a pitchfork for having poor technique. It’s not nearly as scary as I imagined and, in fact, has a certain magical charm. So, yay for stepping out of the cold and into the studio. I’ll have to do so more often!

Ready for a new season!

And, no, I’m not talking about the weather here… though with the temp at -1 degree Farenheit this morning when I left the house, I’m ready for that, too!

No, what I’m talking about here is the buzz that a ballet friend started in class last night.

There are still three more shows to go in Boston Ballet’s 50th anniversary season, but… they just released the line-up for the 2014-15 season.

Dear reader, I was excited for this year, but next year… I literally found myself involuntarily squealing and clapping to myself at my desk as I read the article this morning. Thankfully I have coworkers who are forgiving of these silly quirks.

First up, Swan Lake makes its Boston Opera House debut! With new costumes and sets! While I think the new Nutcracker left a lot to be desired, the sets and costumes were quite nice, so I’m thrilled that Robert Perdziola is all over that. And Mikko Nissinen is adding in a prologue, hmmm.

Then in the spring, “Lady of the Camellias” which they did in ’04, but I’ve never even heard of, let alone seen. I’m excited for a story ballet that’s totally brand new to me!

Then their first mixed rep bill, “Shades of Sound,” with a repeat from last season and two BB premiers. I know people get persnickety about them repeating stuff too close together, but it’s Chroma!!! Which was awesome!!! And I’ll be able to see this from my new seats which are ever so much closer to the action than the balcony seats I had last time!!! Plus, it’s on the same bill as with some Balanchine (“Episodes”), and I generally do love me some Balanchine. And a choreographer and work I’ve not heard of (Hans van Manen’s “Black Cake”), but Nissinen’s description sounds like something I will love.

Followed by another mixed rep, “Edge of Vision” with an Elo world premier and an unnamed other work, plus Helen Pickett’s “Eventide.” That last is yet another piece/choreographer new to me, but from the article, it sounds like Pickett must be like Elo, constantly revising her work. While BB performed this in ’08, there will be a new segment with music by Phillip Glass (the composer who wrote the music for Close to Chuck!) and Ravi Shankar which sounds like an incredibly cool collaboration right there. Can’t wait.

And last but most definitely not least will be “Thrill of Contact” which indeed sounds most thrilling. Why? Well, first up, there are four pieces in this one. The first one is Balanchine’s “Theme and Variations” which I saw NYCB perform at SPAC last summer. Though I feel like a jerk for saying this, I’ve enjoyed BB’s take on Balanchine moreso than his own company’s, so I can’t wait to see them do this for some more compare/contrast. Then there will be a piece choreographed by BB’s own principal dancer (and my very favorite male dancer) Jeffrey Cirio. Swoon. If that boy can choreograph half as well as he can bound around stage, it should be spectacular. Then some Forsythe: “The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude.” The title itself is pretty awesome. I lovedlovedloved “The Second Detail” so I’m sitting on the edge of my seat for this one. And then… oh then… dear reader, I can barely contain myself! Jerome Robbins’s “The Concert.” I have only ever seen this on YouTube and I can’t get enough of it. It’s hilarious and adorable and I’m appropriately THRILLED to finally be able to see this live!

I think it’s safe to say that this will be another 5-show subscription package for me for next season!!!