Ballet Intensive, Day 4: In Which I Forget To Eat

(And then can’t stay asleep, either.)

Yesterday, I ate an early lunch, dithered around for a while (in the process remembering why I don’t bother with shopping malls even as places to take a walk when it’s abominably humid out), then transferred myself over to the hotel (which, alas, does not have a pool after all).

I then arranged my stuff, watched some videos of Albrecht’s variation, wrote a post about it and forgot to post it (hence the after-class posting), collected my dance junk, and finally rolled downtown just in time to be an hour early for class.

You’ll notice that I don’t mention food any time after lunch. You can guess why.

As such, technique class was … um. Interesting.

Things started out well, but by the time we got around to turns, I was feeling bonky. Not, mind you, bonk*ers* — I’m pretty sure that’s a normal state of affairs for me.

Rather, I was having issues with turns because my legs just didn’t want to passé — not at all a normal state of affairs; normally snapping right up to passé is one of the things I actually do well (my challenge in turns is a tendency to throw my head back).

Basically, my legs just didn’t want to go — and there was something remarkably familiar about the sensation.

That’s when it hit me: I was bonking like a Cat 5 climbing Alp D’Huez. Basically, I was out of gas. (In other news, balancés while bonking are hilarious, as is pas de bourée — “drunk step,” indeed.)

Between technique and variations I ate a granola bar with enough free sugar to get things ticking over again. Unfortunately, it was one of the caffeinated ones that Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time (what could possibly go wrong?). As such, I’ve been sleeping in dribs and drabs, alternately dreaming that I’m not asleep (which is incredibly annoying) and dreaming about Albrecht’s variation, whereupon I wake myself up trying to jump.

In my sleep.

Whilst lying face down.

You guys, that is no kind of way to cabriole (especially not avant).

Anyway, Variations involved a whole lot of marking coupled to a few impressive cabrioles. In sum, after running the duo three times, I blew my booster rockets on the first phrase of Albrecht’s variation.

Not my best day, though Mr. J remarked that I have the musicality down, and that first cabriole-assemblé-Sissone might actually have been worth it, because it was sufficiently high and light that it rather startled me.

The rest, however, was a bunch of flaily marking, though at least I was marking the right things at the right times.

Fortunately, I don’t have to go anywhere today until 11:30, when I’m wandering back to Louisville to collect Denis, so I can basically continue to attempt cabrioles in my sleep until 11 if push comes to shove.

Tonight will be our final full evening, and C and I promised that we would finally show the ladies our variations, so it should be fun. We’ll either knock their socks off or kill ourselves trying (or both — after all, dying at the end whilst surrounded by ghostly ladies is totally valid, and they are doing “Kingdom of the Shades,” which is at least kinda-sorta ghostly, though I think the Shades probably have a better deal than the Wilis).

Still going to try to hit at least one double cabriole, preferably in the second cabriole-assemblé-Sissone in that first phrase, because I think that makes more sense. The Wilis are like, “Dance!” and you’re like, “But it’s the middle of the night and I don’t see any champagne!” and then they’re like, “NO, SRSLY, DANCE!!!” And you’re like, “Dear G-d, my legs, what are they doing?”

Sorry, Albrecht — apparently, guilty get have way too much rhythm (but you’re still never gonna dance again, not if Mertha has her way).

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About asher

Me in a nutshell: Standard uptight ballet boy. Trapeze junkie. Half-baked choreographer. Budding researcher. Transit cyclist. Terrible homemaker. Getting along pretty well with bipolar disorder. Fabulous. Married to a very patient man. Bachelor of Science in Psychology (2015). Proto-foodie, but lazy about it. Cat owner ... or, should I say, cat own-ee? ... dog lover. Equestrian.

Posted on 2016/07/22, in balllet, class notes, dance, mistakes, summer intensives, variations and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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