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✱ you might have missed…
✱ break it down:
Going through my fabric just now I came across this little bit of Balanchine net,
It’s white IRL, but lookit how cool it looks with the weirdo blue filter!
This bit is left-over from a petticoat I made for a friend to fluff up her wedding dress, not a tutu, but the dad of my friend did report that when the postal service dropped off the giant box housing the petticoat, and he bent to lift it, it floated up into his arms, lighter than air.
Started thinking about Balanchine net and wondering why it isn’t called Karinska net, since she was his costume designer and a major innovator in tutu construction, but then she has the Karinska bodice named for her, so maybe that’s fair, to spread the naming around, since they were in many ways collaborators.
And then I started wondering if Karinska and Balanchine actually invented Balanchine net, when they developed the powder-puff tutu, and if maybe that’s why it’s named for him, and that would totally make sense except that I’ve never heard any mention of him being involved in textile design.
So then I started to google “was Balanchine net invented by Balanchine” but only got as far as “was Balanchine” before the googles auto-filled the rest of the sentence as “was Balanchine married?”
And then I had to stop and lol for a little while.
Never found the answer.
Did find that there is a lot of mis-information about tutus on the internet, including one site referring to the soft bell-shaped tutu as seen in works by Degas as being rigid and hooped. I mean, come on, website, you just called it soft and bell shaped, how is it also rigid? Also, where exactly would this hoop be? At the knee? It would be a cone, not a bell! Plus how’s she gonna penché all hoop-hobbled like that?! Sheesh.
But I’m not an expert, so I can’t go around being the Tutu Police or anything.
Anyway, Balanchine net!
It is also called tutu net, a name which was obviously dreamed up by a think-tank, and it is distinguishable from other nets and from tulle by its large-ish diamond shaped openings and it’s stiffness, which, combined with the shorter radius of the powder puff (as compared to the classical flat) and the fewer layers, allows the tutu ruffles to be self-supporting without a hoop.
And this allowed Balanchine to choreograph without fear of tutus interrupting his ballets with their bouncy hoop-driven reverb.
So hooray for Balanchine net! Balanchine net saves the day!
Ok now I’m going to go throw away this little piece.
Don’t cry, it’s not enough to do anything with, plus I still have some yardage on a bolt.
Which I should also get rid of because it’s also not enough to do anything with. But I don’t want to.
Went to see Paul Taylor Dance Company at the Music Center last weekend. (A friend gave me tickets because I am the luckiest)
All I knew going in is that Paul Taylor is one of the big names of American modern dance, one of the original artists that established the form, and that he’s still at it, “a living legend” as the Music Center’s radio advertisements call him.
It was a program of three pieces:
Airs first performed in 1978. I liked this one, the friend I brought along didn’t, for him it was just pretty for the sake of pretty.
Banquet of Vultures first performed in 2005. My friend found this one very moving, I was crushed under the unrelenting bleakness and didn’t enjoy it as much.
The third was titled Gossamer Gallants, so during intermission we figured this one would be, like, fancy men in chiffon?
No, omygosh, so much better.
It was flies.
And I don’t mean metaphorical flies, I mean like the dancers were wearing unitards with wings down the back and helmets. Not headdresses! Helmets! Attached via chin-strap!Mounted with big buggy eyes and antennae. Rubbing their hands together the way flies rub their front legs, making these great buzzy gestures, chasing all around.
This was my favorite, not for the dance itself (although I did love it) as much as for the fact that it was made at all.
I mean imagine the pitch for this one-
I’m seeing an oval table with a bunch of people bursting into laughter and shouting “Oh Paul! You are hilar! Flies. You are too funny. Can you imagine? Ha!” and then settling down and sipping their coffee and moving on to the next order of business, only to do a spit-take two days later when they see “New Work; Flies” posted on the rehearsal schedule.
And Mr. T being all ‘I am a living legend! I will do whatever the eff!’
Also I love to imagine the fits that were pitched in the dressing rooms when the dancers tried on their helmets and wings for the first time.
And the first dress rehearsal! Which everyone knows is The Time When All Problems With Everything Are Attributed To The Costumes, Even In Productions Where They Are Totally Normal Costumes And Don’t Have Wings Or Antennae.
Man, to be a fly on the wall for that one.
I think this might be the most well-selected mixed program I’ve ever seen, in that it gave us something lovely, something intense, and something so silly it kinda takes the starch out of the other two, makes you re-see them with a new perspective.
Every theater in the world has one,
and here’s the one at LA’s Music Center:
That’s the view straight up toward the ceiling, the red light is at the edge of the balcony, right in the middle of the house so dancers can spot their turns.
I think I remember reading somewhere that in ye olden times that red light was a candle?
It’s neat to think about dancers checking in with that light throughout time and all over the world.
Here is a quote from Astonish Me, a novel by Maggie Shipstead, that made me smile and then reach up and dog-ear the page:
As she pulls open the door to the ballet school, she sees Joan through a studio’s big window, facing the mirror, leading a class of adult women, moms looking for exercise and for some trace of girlhood dreams. They are ungainly in their leotards, wearing slippers, not pointe shoes, and not turned out. But the sight of them is touching, triggers a gloating pride in Elaine that these women wish to do what she does.
Oh Snap, Adult Women! Did You Hear That?! Ungainly! Gloating!
Elaine is not the main character of Astonish Me, but she is my favorite, in part because the actual main character, Joan, kind of pushes the reader away. Even when presented in third person observer mode, Joan’s story manages to seem like it’s being not quite honest.
Which made it hard for me to get into this book. I read along kind of not invested-ly until about sixty pages in, when Jacob, Joan’s husband, explains to Joan only slightly in jest that she has no empathy, she’s a sociopath, and then I was like “aha! I’m not even supposed to like the main character, how bizarre!”
It reminded me a little of The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P, which featured a protagonist so repulsive I kept checking the author’s name to see if it was a man angry at women, or a woman angry at men, and yet it was set in a world as intriguing and just as insular as the world of ballet.
Astonish Me begins with the end of Joan’s career as a dancer. Joan sees the limits of her talent and understands that she will never be more than a member of the corps, so she parlays a pregnancy into a sort of honorable discharge from ballet.
Basically, she breaks up with ballet before it can break up with her.
We spend the book going forward and backward in time, putting together the whole story, from New York in the 70′s, through Paris, Chicago, suburban Southern California, and round-trip back to New York in the 2000′s
There’s a twist ending, but you will have seen it coming by halfway through the book, and you will think No, Surely There Is A Counter-Twist, but there’s not, which is ok because the real strength of this book is in all the different partnerships and pairings and balances and imbalances of power.
Details are: Astonish Me by Maggie Shipstead, copyright 2014, published by Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House LLC, New York, a Penguin Random House Company
Available for purchase April 8th
And here’s the disclaimer:
Disclaimer: I received a free advance copy of Astonish Me, in hardcover, from the publishers. I was not paid or compensated for my review, but given the book with the hope that I and my readers would love it and with thanks for the consideration.
So let me know if you read it and love it, Gentle Reader!
The Adult Beginner is a little late with the New Year’s post, so here, I got you this card.
You all have a four month head-start on the Adult Beginner, so how are those goals going? How’s the year shaping up?
My big goal for 2014 is to have a nice face.
I’m working on not making hideous grimaces in class.
It’s not easy! Those back-bends we do away from the barre especially, I’m trying to remember to ask my face to relax, and maybe even go for pleasant, instead of shaping itself into a Melodrama Of Anguish.
I think if I succeed with this it’ll be nicer for all of us.
On a related note, one of my non-ballet goals for 2014 is to learn to open champagne gracefully. I’d like to be the kind of woman who places her thumbs on the cork in a way that says, “I am looking forward to sparkling wine” not that says, “oh god, keep it away from my eyes, this thing’s gonna blow, everybody duck and cover.”
Probably will need lots of practice. I’m willing to put in the time.
Last year’s goal was to get back to being hot. Which sounds totally awful and superficial to just say right out like that, but before you judge remember that last year I was a new mom, dreaming of the day when I could get back into pants with closures, let alone pink tights.
So the progress on that is: I am back in pink tights, but sometimes I wear black leggings.
Hotness is relative, ballet class is awesome.