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The moon does fall to earth; it just keeps missing the horizon.
Today was all dramatic because I found out in the morning that STREB vs. Gravity (ahem, that link has a two-minute video; go watch it) was/is in Boston this weekend; then I found out that they were all sold out, and that this was the last stop for the tour. It would be hard for me to explain to you how much I wanted to see this -- but as an acrobatic mechanical engineer, I just did. After asking much advice, getting depressed, posting on ebay, craiglist etc, I went to ICA Boston with a sign saying "Need 1 Ticket" in 72-point font. I was way early, and in fact wandered around a lot of the exhibits without paying while waiting for ticketholders to show up. One of the ushers saw my sign and said "aww! You always see people do that for Red Sox games. It's great to think that anyone would do that for Streb" -- and that was funny to me because I would never do such a dorky thing for a baseball game.
She told me to go down to the lobby since that's where anyone with too many tickets would be trying to return them. I did, and in about 2 minutes I had bought a ticket and a guy begged my sign off me so he could use it next. Squee! I was so giddy! I had really been expecting to stand there for half an hour and go home in tears.
As for Streb vs. gravity? Gravity won, but barely. Also, whoever said that violence is not the answer forgot to talk to Elizabeth Streb, whose dancers' basic move is to land flat on the floor with an audible smack. It sometimes got a little graceless.
I liked some pieces better than others -- strongly disliked one where two people were tied together and just jerked each other around, loved the giant wheel, loved the human tetherball thing, loved the one where they did the entire piece lying on the floor but projected a view from an overhead camera so that they were upright on the projected view. They got to do a lot of silly, funny, wonderful things with that one. As for the giant wheel, when they lowered the screen to reveal it, they also lifted the curtains on the glass back of the theater, and did that final act with the lights of Boston blazing in the background. Gorgeous.
Oh, and the final thing I noticed is how much more I appreciate basing these days; they do an act with people on a giant half-wheel that's rocking back and forth, and much of my attention was on the serious, attentive girl who stayed inside the half-wheel controlling it for the entire act. She was amazing and beautiful. Would I have known that before I knew what basing was? I'm still not entirely comfortable being the observer who's starting to have a clue, who even thinks occasionally about things like "quality of motion" that I still want to protest mean nothing to me.
She told me to go down to the lobby since that's where anyone with too many tickets would be trying to return them. I did, and in about 2 minutes I had bought a ticket and a guy begged my sign off me so he could use it next. Squee! I was so giddy! I had really been expecting to stand there for half an hour and go home in tears.
As for Streb vs. gravity? Gravity won, but barely. Also, whoever said that violence is not the answer forgot to talk to Elizabeth Streb, whose dancers' basic move is to land flat on the floor with an audible smack. It sometimes got a little graceless.
I liked some pieces better than others -- strongly disliked one where two people were tied together and just jerked each other around, loved the giant wheel, loved the human tetherball thing, loved the one where they did the entire piece lying on the floor but projected a view from an overhead camera so that they were upright on the projected view. They got to do a lot of silly, funny, wonderful things with that one. As for the giant wheel, when they lowered the screen to reveal it, they also lifted the curtains on the glass back of the theater, and did that final act with the lights of Boston blazing in the background. Gorgeous.
Oh, and the final thing I noticed is how much more I appreciate basing these days; they do an act with people on a giant half-wheel that's rocking back and forth, and much of my attention was on the serious, attentive girl who stayed inside the half-wheel controlling it for the entire act. She was amazing and beautiful. Would I have known that before I knew what basing was? I'm still not entirely comfortable being the observer who's starting to have a clue, who even thinks occasionally about things like "quality of motion" that I still want to protest mean nothing to me.
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the girl in the half wheel, hmm! in that piece a lot of what i liked was how absorbed she had to be. the audience could see her face but it was clear she was all about keeping the dancers above her safe, and not about performing, per se. i like seeing that, in anyone, when they're taken out of themselves and just doing something very absorbing but you get to watch them do it.
i'm amazed that the company doesn't know they give an "all they do is fall" impression. i didn't necessarily mind how it looked. or sometimes yes, but mostly i was just thinking it looked painful. not feeling good on the body... no... i didn't think much of their choreography looked pleasant to perform at all, except of course for the rest of it, which did! sigh.
i almost mentioned lava being all female in my list of possible reasons why you'd be more attracted to it, then thought "nah, let her say it herself if that's a factor". i still have a negative reaction to anyplace that keeps people out based on gender, which an all-female place necessarily does, but can understand the queer vibe thing. i like an all-mixed-up vibe, myself, and sort of wish everyone were 50/50 bisexual, but that's yet another story! i really want to see lava perform sometime. without my own perspective i feel unable to add much to the discussion, but knowing your perspective at least adds a little to the things i can think about. i do completely understand the difference between liking something as a spectator vs. as a performer.
i wanted to add: i'm starting to worry that i actually want to dance myself, and might be too afraid to admit it. i've taken some dance classes, and even performed a few times (in Cabaret, at a friend's wedding with the other bridesmaids, at my own wedding, figure skating) but i'm not like a lot of people who actually have talent, so i really flinch from saying i want to do a thing like that. that means being opened up to scrutiny about something (motion) that, so far, has always been a source of joy just for me. ick. why should i even think of doing that to myself?