Today, after a night of revelry with my teacher and some friends, I did something I rarely do. I slept until one o'clock. I spent the day mostly by myself. Being alone is important to me as an artist. It gives me time to refuel. Sometimes, it can be lonely, but I find that when I give in and let myself be quiet, I can reflect and prepare myself for whatever is next.
Tomorrow, I have the audition that I had spoken of for which I've been preparing "two contrasting monologues." The ones I decided to use are from a play called "Kennedy's Children" and another one called "Tracers." To say that I'm nervous would be a bit of an understatement-well, actually I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'll just go and give it my best shot. It's my first time auditioning for something like this, so I'm excited about the new opportunity.
Each audition is a chance to perform. (my new mantra.)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Farewell Christmas.
Okay, it's gone. Although my decorations have been down for over a week, my huge Christmas tree has been standing waiting to be hauled away for kindling by a co-worker. Due to weather and scheduling dilemmas, I finally decided to just take it out to the dumpster.
What does this have to do with my retirement? To me, this signifies letting go of something that has been special to me here in my lovely home. I won't see another tree in this apartment. I won't have another Christmas caroling party with my friends here. In a way, as long as the tree was standing, I was in denial that the festivities were over.
I am admittedly a sap when it comes to things like this, so there you have it. So long Kansas City holidays. This is where I am tonight on this adventure.
On the grander scheme of things, a dear friend of mine found a wonderful deal on an apartment in New York for himself. This encouraged me to know that I will be okay when it's my time to look. Somewhere, a dark part of me feels that I should be more nervous about this than I am, but I still feel an overall sense of calm. I keep reminding myself that many people have made huge life changes before me. As long as I don't lose my drive, I have no reason to think that things won't work out fine.
What does this have to do with my retirement? To me, this signifies letting go of something that has been special to me here in my lovely home. I won't see another tree in this apartment. I won't have another Christmas caroling party with my friends here. In a way, as long as the tree was standing, I was in denial that the festivities were over.
I am admittedly a sap when it comes to things like this, so there you have it. So long Kansas City holidays. This is where I am tonight on this adventure.
On the grander scheme of things, a dear friend of mine found a wonderful deal on an apartment in New York for himself. This encouraged me to know that I will be okay when it's my time to look. Somewhere, a dark part of me feels that I should be more nervous about this than I am, but I still feel an overall sense of calm. I keep reminding myself that many people have made huge life changes before me. As long as I don't lose my drive, I have no reason to think that things won't work out fine.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
The Moor's Pavane.
Today we began re-learning "The Moor's Pavane" which is a dramatic work based on Shakespeare's "Othello" by Jose Limon. It uses four dancers to tell the story in about twenty minutes. I had the honor of playing Iago a few years ago, and I feel privileged to get to play the role again this time.
This is what I call a "once in a lifetime" type of part (I think I've spoken of it before.) I'm lucky to get to do it again. It was thrilling to begin thinking about my character, and I look forward to seeing how the work evolves once we get it staged and the lady who originally set it on us comes back to refine the details.
I love playing the villain. What I love about theatre is the chance to taste many different types of characters without necessarily having to be like them in real life. It's a wonderful escape.
I am working with a partner who I learned the ballet with last time but didn't get to perform it because of an injury. I am excited that she is getting to finally do the part. She put a lot into it, so it will be good for that to be rewarded.
Stay tuned.....
This is what I call a "once in a lifetime" type of part (I think I've spoken of it before.) I'm lucky to get to do it again. It was thrilling to begin thinking about my character, and I look forward to seeing how the work evolves once we get it staged and the lady who originally set it on us comes back to refine the details.
I love playing the villain. What I love about theatre is the chance to taste many different types of characters without necessarily having to be like them in real life. It's a wonderful escape.
I am working with a partner who I learned the ballet with last time but didn't get to perform it because of an injury. I am excited that she is getting to finally do the part. She put a lot into it, so it will be good for that to be rewarded.
Stay tuned.....
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Words of Wisdom.
How is it possible that one person can be so inspiring? Tonight, I had dinner with my teacher who is setting Lambarena. We had over ten years of catching up to do, and we're not finished yet, but it was a lovely time to reconnect. In and outside of the studio, she is completely generous with her guidance about the ballet world as well as life. She is the first person I have really gotten to sit down with who has told me about her experience of leaving the ballet company field and shed light on things to look out for as well as forward to. I'd like to share a bit of what she shared with me. Note: I am interpreting what she said at the same time as I am digesting it.
I've spoken on the issue of how we dancers complain about what we do. We discussed this together, and she had a take on it that I hadn't ever considered. In a way, dancers are brainwashed. We live sheltered in a community of artists whom we work with, play with, but most importantly obey orders with. From the time we are young and training, we are taught to jump when commanded-go here, now back there. Stay still. Turn. In this field we rarely have a voice of our own. Even if the person setting the ballet or teaching us is incredibly incorrect in their instruction, we have little or no wiggle room within our arena in which to point that out. Thereby, when we are together with our associates who also have had no voice all day/week/years, we need to let it out. We need to communicate and express our frustrations. Sometimes we do this in a positive manner, but often we don't. I found this to be an interesting take on the subject.
This segued into how she felt once she left company life. All of a sudden, dancers are in the "real world" without the cocoon of our closest friends on a thirty hour a week basis. This can be a complete culture shock. Now, of course, we may still have instructions being ordered to us, but it's no where near the same. Our interaction with people becomes different, and this can be scary. "Normal" people may not have the same interest and definitely not the same passion as we do about dance. We have to recreate our sense of "normalcy." I can see how this could be a bit traumatizing to someone who stared in the mirror and talked to other people who also stared in the mirror and discussed dance for decades at a time.
This is another reason why I am a huge proponent of expanding ones circle of friends during a dance career. I hadn't fully thought of this issue in this way, so it's a bit unnerving, but I feel that I am fairly well prepared for being tossed into the real world. Also, I'm lucky because I'm going into a field that is linked to my current profession.
When I praised her for the way she relates to dancers and seems to not have forgotten what it was like to be one, she had an amazing response. She said that she swore to herself when she was younger that she would remember how she didn't like being treated as if she didn't have a brain, and thereby, she wouldn't do that when she was in the position of authority. She also spoke of a "revelation" she had when she was in her early days as a teacher/coach/ballet mistress. She realized that the "mirror was now behind her." She was looking at the dancers-not at the mirror any longer. It was up to her to give them the material and guidance they needed in order to help them succeed. It wasn't only about her career anymore. Wow. So clear, so wise, so honest, so sincere.
She gave me some advice as I prepare to move on. She spoke of the fear that comes with transitioning, and she told me something that her Father said to her:
"As long as it comes from the heart, you will never say the wrong thing. Your sincerity will come through."
To me, this summarized the mystery of her her ability to be so gracious. It is so clear that everything comes from her heart. This may have summarized the "mystery," but it doesn't simplify it. Not everyone can have this gift. One can work on/for it, but it has to be something you were born with, and born with it she was.
Tonight's visit was a true gem. I feel honored to have my teacher also be my friend but still teach me valuable lessons.
I've spoken on the issue of how we dancers complain about what we do. We discussed this together, and she had a take on it that I hadn't ever considered. In a way, dancers are brainwashed. We live sheltered in a community of artists whom we work with, play with, but most importantly obey orders with. From the time we are young and training, we are taught to jump when commanded-go here, now back there. Stay still. Turn. In this field we rarely have a voice of our own. Even if the person setting the ballet or teaching us is incredibly incorrect in their instruction, we have little or no wiggle room within our arena in which to point that out. Thereby, when we are together with our associates who also have had no voice all day/week/years, we need to let it out. We need to communicate and express our frustrations. Sometimes we do this in a positive manner, but often we don't. I found this to be an interesting take on the subject.
This segued into how she felt once she left company life. All of a sudden, dancers are in the "real world" without the cocoon of our closest friends on a thirty hour a week basis. This can be a complete culture shock. Now, of course, we may still have instructions being ordered to us, but it's no where near the same. Our interaction with people becomes different, and this can be scary. "Normal" people may not have the same interest and definitely not the same passion as we do about dance. We have to recreate our sense of "normalcy." I can see how this could be a bit traumatizing to someone who stared in the mirror and talked to other people who also stared in the mirror and discussed dance for decades at a time.
This is another reason why I am a huge proponent of expanding ones circle of friends during a dance career. I hadn't fully thought of this issue in this way, so it's a bit unnerving, but I feel that I am fairly well prepared for being tossed into the real world. Also, I'm lucky because I'm going into a field that is linked to my current profession.
When I praised her for the way she relates to dancers and seems to not have forgotten what it was like to be one, she had an amazing response. She said that she swore to herself when she was younger that she would remember how she didn't like being treated as if she didn't have a brain, and thereby, she wouldn't do that when she was in the position of authority. She also spoke of a "revelation" she had when she was in her early days as a teacher/coach/ballet mistress. She realized that the "mirror was now behind her." She was looking at the dancers-not at the mirror any longer. It was up to her to give them the material and guidance they needed in order to help them succeed. It wasn't only about her career anymore. Wow. So clear, so wise, so honest, so sincere.
She gave me some advice as I prepare to move on. She spoke of the fear that comes with transitioning, and she told me something that her Father said to her:
"As long as it comes from the heart, you will never say the wrong thing. Your sincerity will come through."
To me, this summarized the mystery of her her ability to be so gracious. It is so clear that everything comes from her heart. This may have summarized the "mystery," but it doesn't simplify it. Not everyone can have this gift. One can work on/for it, but it has to be something you were born with, and born with it she was.
Tonight's visit was a true gem. I feel honored to have my teacher also be my friend but still teach me valuable lessons.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
2010.
I began work today after a fun and restful two week break from the ballet. We jumped in with both feet and began work on an exciting ballet called Lambarena. This is a piece we performed several years ago, and it infuses music by Bach with African music. Fittingly, the choreography reflects the music blending ballet with African dance.
Today I realized again how refreshing it can be to revisit a work that was fun to dance the first time. More than that, I was reminded of how much personal mindset can make or break us in this profession (and in life.) When we first learned the piece, it was still fairly early in my career, and although I remember enjoying it, I was in the ensemble (not a lead role.) Naturally, we as dancers get more excited to do a lead part. It's human nature. This time, I am still in the ensemble, but number one: I am excited to be in the piece at all; two: I feel a sense of peace and freedom that comes with knowing that I'm nearing the end and want to make sure I enjoy every last step; three: another one of my favorite teachers-this time from my days at the Rock School of Pennsylvania Ballet (as it was then called) is setting the piece.
She came into the company today and breathed life and enjoyment into the process of learning dance as she always has. She has such an aura around her that sucks you in and reminds you why you love to dance. On a personal level, she is encouraging and kind to all which in return gains her respect and makes the dancer want to work harder. These qualities (as I have observed in my time) are not always widely possessed by artists in the dance world. It is an unfortunate truth that I have learned usually stems from insecurities. (Fortunately, I haven't had to work with too many negative people.) This repetiteur reminded me today that it is possible to be confident in what she had accomplished in her life artistically and still encourage all of us to give our all without taking the joy out of it for us. I hope I can have an eighth of this ability someday.
When she was talking to us and explaining the celebratory nature of the piece, my eyes began to well up (surprise, surprise.) I was suddenly transported back over ten years, and I remembered that this was the teacher who added oxygen to my already ignited passion for dance causing it to burst into flame. I began to evolve from student into artist during my time at the Rock School, and she was the one who taught me that it was okay to love dance.
It seems I am on a roll right now with faces from my past coming into my life and bringing my career full circle. I am ever aware, and I don't care if I repeat this one hundred more times, that I believe that when one puts oneself in line with the correct path, the world comes to you. I hope this continues for me, but for now I want to revel in the experience (humbly of course) as long as it lasts.
Today I realized again how refreshing it can be to revisit a work that was fun to dance the first time. More than that, I was reminded of how much personal mindset can make or break us in this profession (and in life.) When we first learned the piece, it was still fairly early in my career, and although I remember enjoying it, I was in the ensemble (not a lead role.) Naturally, we as dancers get more excited to do a lead part. It's human nature. This time, I am still in the ensemble, but number one: I am excited to be in the piece at all; two: I feel a sense of peace and freedom that comes with knowing that I'm nearing the end and want to make sure I enjoy every last step; three: another one of my favorite teachers-this time from my days at the Rock School of Pennsylvania Ballet (as it was then called) is setting the piece.
She came into the company today and breathed life and enjoyment into the process of learning dance as she always has. She has such an aura around her that sucks you in and reminds you why you love to dance. On a personal level, she is encouraging and kind to all which in return gains her respect and makes the dancer want to work harder. These qualities (as I have observed in my time) are not always widely possessed by artists in the dance world. It is an unfortunate truth that I have learned usually stems from insecurities. (Fortunately, I haven't had to work with too many negative people.) This repetiteur reminded me today that it is possible to be confident in what she had accomplished in her life artistically and still encourage all of us to give our all without taking the joy out of it for us. I hope I can have an eighth of this ability someday.
When she was talking to us and explaining the celebratory nature of the piece, my eyes began to well up (surprise, surprise.) I was suddenly transported back over ten years, and I remembered that this was the teacher who added oxygen to my already ignited passion for dance causing it to burst into flame. I began to evolve from student into artist during my time at the Rock School, and she was the one who taught me that it was okay to love dance.
It seems I am on a roll right now with faces from my past coming into my life and bringing my career full circle. I am ever aware, and I don't care if I repeat this one hundred more times, that I believe that when one puts oneself in line with the correct path, the world comes to you. I hope this continues for me, but for now I want to revel in the experience (humbly of course) as long as it lasts.
Monday, January 11, 2010
A family tree.
Yesterday, as I had mentioned I would, I saw my teachers who were in Kansas City to teach the audition for my old school. As I was walking them down the hallway, one of the girls I teach said, "Hi Matthew!" I wasn't expecting the wave of emotion that almost came over me as I realized that there were three generations of dancers represented in a five foot radius. The familial feeling that I felt confirmed once more what I had written about in my previous entry about the "legacy of dance." I am about to be a "retired ballet dancer" as my teachers are. Seeing my student and all of the other dancers eagerly awaiting their audition-their chance to keep furthering themselves to get to where my teachers have been and where I am currently was huge to me! They want it so badly, and I wish them half of the luck that I have had.
I still look up to my teachers. It was an honor to hang out with them and sit as adults together.
I still look up to my teachers. It was an honor to hang out with them and sit as adults together.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Cosmic Energy.
Never underestimate the power of the universe. Okay, I don't mean for this to sound esoteric or hokey, but I am serious. Sometimes, I'm learning, It's strange to see how things come together when you line yourself up on the "correct" path.
A couple of days ago, I received an email from the father of one of my students. This kid is an extremely talented young dancer, and I have offered my assistance in any way possible in helping him get into a professional training school. His dad asked if I could write a recommendation letter to my alma mater, NCSA, and I was thrilled to oblige.
Of course, I took it a step further than simply writing a letter, and I called one of my favorite ballet teachers, the assistant dean of the dance department to personally recommend him. My teacher, of course, was attentive and gracious, and made sure he knew the student's name, and then he dropped the exciting news.
He would himself actually be in Kansas City conducting the audition! I was completely thrilled. I haven't seen him or the other teacher traveling with him for at least five years. It seems that everything is lining up for me to bring my balletic career full circle. I've gotten to visit the Rock School in Pennsylvania, one of my teachers from there will be setting a ballet on us for the next couple of weeks, and today, I'll get to see two of my most influential teachers. How thrilling!
I completely respect the legacy of dance. To have the opportunity to have my own student audition for the people and school who taught me to dance is huge. I am seeing with my own eyes the legacy of which I am a part. As I have said before, I am honored to be a part of such a wonderful tradition, and I hope things go well for my student tomorrow. (Regardless, I get to see my teachers!)
A couple of days ago, I received an email from the father of one of my students. This kid is an extremely talented young dancer, and I have offered my assistance in any way possible in helping him get into a professional training school. His dad asked if I could write a recommendation letter to my alma mater, NCSA, and I was thrilled to oblige.
Of course, I took it a step further than simply writing a letter, and I called one of my favorite ballet teachers, the assistant dean of the dance department to personally recommend him. My teacher, of course, was attentive and gracious, and made sure he knew the student's name, and then he dropped the exciting news.
He would himself actually be in Kansas City conducting the audition! I was completely thrilled. I haven't seen him or the other teacher traveling with him for at least five years. It seems that everything is lining up for me to bring my balletic career full circle. I've gotten to visit the Rock School in Pennsylvania, one of my teachers from there will be setting a ballet on us for the next couple of weeks, and today, I'll get to see two of my most influential teachers. How thrilling!
I completely respect the legacy of dance. To have the opportunity to have my own student audition for the people and school who taught me to dance is huge. I am seeing with my own eyes the legacy of which I am a part. As I have said before, I am honored to be a part of such a wonderful tradition, and I hope things go well for my student tomorrow. (Regardless, I get to see my teachers!)
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