Here’s how I memorize ballet:
- The Mark: Okay. Okay. Oh, crap! Wait, what? Okay. Maybe this? Okay. And okay!
- The First Run:Okay. Okay. Okay. Wait, what? Okay. Maybe this? Okay. And okay!
- The Second Run: Okay. Okay. Okay. Wait, what? Okay. Okay. Okay. And okay!
- The Third Run: Like a Boss, Like a Boss, Like a Boss, Like a Boss, etc.
- Next Rehearsal:Like a Boss, Like a Boss, Like a Boss, Like a Boss, etc.
Here’s how I memorize modern*:
- The Mark: WTF, even how, but what, can I just-, where do I, how do I, what do I, WTF
- The First Run: okay, even how, but what, can I just-, where do I, okay, what do I, WTF
- The Second Run: WTF, okay, but what, can I just-, okay, how do I, what do I, okay
- The Third Run: okay, okay, can I just-, where do I, okay, what do I, okay
- The Next Rehearsal: okay, okay, okay, where do I, okay, what do I, okay
- The Rehearsal After That: “Are we sure we learned this dance already?”
Modern: the struggle is real.
(Also: Autocorrect: the struggle Isreal.)
*Okay, so I’ll own up to a little hyperbole, here.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you do algebra, even though I love algebra.
I’m talking about a different kind of “adding X.” Specifically, adding X-rolls—the modern dance kind—to improve your ballet.
Today, BG substituted for Killer B because it’s Spring Break. The unofficial topic-of-the-day was using contralateral diagonal connections to drive movement in ballet: like, thinking of your tendu front on the right beginning, more or less, from your left shoulder.
If you’re familiar with X-rolls in modern dance, this will feel very familiar.
If you’re not, here’s a nice little introduction:
Really, contralateral connectivity should feel familiar to everyone in ballet, since it’s basically just a different way of explaining ballet technique … but since nobody ever said to to me in quite that way before, I never made the (AHEM) connection, so I never really thought about it before.
X-rolls and their relatives are great for learning to feel connections between, say, the right toes and the left fingertips via the core and limbs.
When I thought about it that way at center, my tendus and turns suddenly looked lovely: present (if that makes sense), intentional, and clean. Also, my arms were far less inclined to be lazy and/or stupid.
The difference was subtle: my tendus don’t normally look bad. They just looked better. More alive. My turns, meanwhile, are usually a mixed bag: sometimes they’re beautiful; sometimes they’re just giant whirling handbaskets of WTF. Thinking about this kind of diagonal engagement made them reliably look (and feel) nice.
I’m going to have to keep working on this. I suspect that it is, for me, one of those “version update” things: an element that will move my technique from Ballet 2.0 to Ballet 3.0, or whatever I’m on now (honestly, I really wish I’d thought of this metaphor right at the start, so I could use it more effectively >.<).
I’ll also have to bring this with me to BW’s class next week (we don’t have class this week because of Spring Break).
Last week, he analyzed my turns via an exercise that went: tendu, fourth, plié, double from fourth, finish to lunge in fourth, rélèvé, plié, double from fourth, finish to lunge in fourth, rélèvé, plié, double from fourth, finish to lunge in fourth, rélèvé, plié, and so on and so
fourth forth and sorted some of the other stupid things I do when doing turns from fourth.
Stupid things like finishing in a freaking enormous lunge(1), then not bothering to pull it in a little before launching the next turn, so I’m basically forcing myself to either jump into my turn or, like, climb into my turn.
- My fourth likes to be a borderline lunge all the time, if it can get away with it. I have heard the phrase, “Maybe a slightly smaller fourth,” sooooooo many times…
The purpose of the rélèvé was, of course, to force me to pull myself back in. A couple of times, I just did this crazy lunge-en-rélèvé instead. What even is that?
I’m afraid that this is really why my demi-pointe is crazy strong(2). I am constantly doing insane things with it. If I stop doing them, I hope my feet won’t be like, “Oh, cool, we can relax now.”
- Okay, not really. What makes my demi-pointe strong is a combination of mobility and, like, actual strength. My ankles and feet are incredibly mobile, which makes it possible to get up into a super-high demi-point. The downside, of course, is that I never, ever, ever get away with half-assing my demi-point(3), even when everyone else in class does.
- This also goes for just straight up pointing my toes. Amongst the many reverse-printed t-shirts I need to make, there is definitely going to be one that just says TOES! I can’t get away with half-assing that, either. My point is fierce, and every single one of my teachers knows that and corrects accordingly. There are days that counts for Thursday class basically go, “And one and TOES and three and TOES and five and TOES…”(4)
- Come to think of it, I am officially setting a goal for myself: get through one entire class without half-assing my toe-point so BW does not develop nightmares about desperately shouting “TOES!” into a cold and uncaring universe.
This week, then, is all about the x-connection, overhead pull-downs to get the lats back in order (because my right shoulder has been all creepin’ on my ear when working left at barre lately), keeping the sternum up and the transversus abdominis engaged, and … hell, I don’t even know. That’s enough to worry about for one week.
I realized today that some of the things I’ve been working on with BW are quickly becoming habits. I think that’s the upside of doing class several times per week. I don’t have time to forget the important corrections from the previous class, and each class involves practicing them countless times.
That means—whether for better or for worse—that habits build quickly.
So there we go. For better ballet, add X.
Sometimes, in the process of navigating your life, you look up and realize you’ve passed a bunch of waypoints without even really noticing.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately: I realized that I needed to update my dance resumé, which pretty much made me laugh out loud, because I’ve come a really long way in less than one year, and I totally failed to notice.
In short: this year, my life has suddenly taken off.
Or … well. It feels sudden, but when I think about it, it really isn’t.
(moar behind the cut; it’s long)
In my head, I don’t necessarily choreograph for myself, but in reality, I often choreograph on myself.
As an artist, you kind of tend to work with the materials at hand—and as a dancer, the materials at hand are, more often than not, you.
Even if you have access to an entire dance company, they eventually get hungry and tired and cranky and want to go home: so, at the end of the day, at least 33% of the time (assuming the normal “8 hours for work, 8 hours for rest, 8 hours for what you will,” which is admittedly a really bold assumption, given that apparently even semi-professional dancers have completely insane schedules) it’s just you(1,2).
- And your kitchen, or possibly your living room, or maybe (if you’re lucky) the spare bedroom in which you’ve opted for an inflatable bed over a regular guest bed so you’ll have room to dance. As LF said once, “I suspect that my dances are basically always shaped more or less like my living room.”
- Possibly also your cat. Cats love to help with things like yoga and modern dance, especially if there’s floorwork. They’re generally more ambivalent about ballet. Thus, if you’re a Crazy Cat Person, I highly recommend choosing ballet as your choreographic discipline. Extra points if you actually succeed in training your cats to dance the corps parts. Mine only does floorwork. His primary and secondary curves, though? Legit.
Likewise, when you put your work out there as someone who’s just starting out in choreography, chances are good that you’re also going to find yourself performing it.
As it turns out, that’s surprisingly weird.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned my greatest asset as a performer: that wild (if momentary) overconfidence that makes me unafraid to get up in front of an audience and
make a complete ass out of myself dance like nobody’s watching. To be honest, that same wild overconfidence is one of my greatest assets, period: I have no fear of public speaking, for example, and I come off pretty well in job interviews as long as I’m prepared(2).
- The same can’t be said for ordinary conversations: they always veer off into unexpected territory, which makes it bleeding hard to study for them. If everyone would just stop going off script all the time, I’d be fine.
This weekend I discovered that my Magical Wild Overconfidence does not extend to performing my own choreography.
The nice part about being the choreographer is that when performance time rolls around, you can always just shut your eyes or spend the whole performance locked in a stall in the restroom, then slap yourself across the face a couple of times and come out looking fresh and rosy if and when you’re called upon to take a bow.
If you’re both the choreographer and one of the dancers, however, you lose that luxury. You have to go out there and do the thing, even if at the last minute you realize that the thing in question is terrible and that you’ve done something completely stupid with that entire passage from 01:34 – 2:39 (MORE THAN A MINUTE OF ABJECT STUPIDITY!!! OH G-D)(4).
- Don’t worry. This is not, in fact, an actual example from my own life. There are a couple of moments in which I wish I’d made different decisions because our rehearsal floor and our performance space were shaped just differently enough to turn circles into narrow lozenges, which sometimes made things weird momentarily, but nothing was that bad for that long.
Anyway, it seems that, when I’m performing my own choreography, I worry no more than usual about how well I’ll dance. The trajectory of my ability as a dancer seems to be pretty steadily upward, and I know what kind of mistakes I tend to make and how to counteract them (and that I do so with increasing success every time I learn a new piece).
Instead, impostor syndrome rears its ugly head and reminds me that, as a choreographer, I have no idea what I’m doing. And no qualifications. Like, none whatsoever(5).
- Except, you know, a lifetime of watching dance, something like ten years of actually dancing, and the fact that someone who has seen my choreographic ideas invited me to choreograph this piece. But, honestly, that doesn’t feel like much.
So, basically, part of me is like, “Here’s this idea, I hope you guys like it, please don’t throw rotten tomatoes if it’s terrible because I really can’t afford the cleaning bill.”
None of this was, in any way, ameliorated by the fact that I invited BW and his boyfriend to come and see my choreographic debut, heh. I also conveniently managed to acquire a nasty cold of some sort that cropped up around Thursday and was at its worst on Sunday morning, which didn’t help me feel any more secure.
As such, I was in fact hella nervous on Saturday evening: but we got through it and nobody died, and in truth I think it went pretty well.
Anyway, the “official” video’s up, and I got to see it today. It’s not public yet, as not everyone has chimed in with permission to make it so, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.
It looks better than it felt, which is comforting. I felt like I was way ahead and screwing everything up the whole time. In fact, in the video, I’m mostly on point timing-wise (including the little bits that fall into a brief canon), not as awkward as I felt by half, and only the off-kilter extension a la seconde early on looks particularly meh. That was the cold’s doing, as it affected my balance.
There are a couple of moments in which I clearly didn’t think about what to do with my arms during a transition. If I get a chance to stage this dance again, I’ll program something in to fix that.
This is one of the challenges in working in a stream of dance other than ballet: you have to think about all that stuff. In ballet—particularly classical ballet—what you do with your arms is largely a foregone conclusion. The technique offers only so many options, and “forget to use your arms entirely” is essentially never one of them.
There are also some spaces that feel kind of blank: like, the action in this dance happens in flurries, and I don’t know that I’ve joined those flurries together terribly well. Those are things I’ll revisit somewhere down the line.
In the end, nobody died, and my piece was rather delightfully well-received. As a first effort, I’m pretty happy with it. The human origami bits (which, sadly, didn’t work as smoothly on the mats as they did on the dance floor) are my favorite parts, and I suspect that sort of thing will appear in my future efforts.
I don’t know if performing my own choreography will get any less weird as time goes by. I guess I’ll find out!
I feel like it might be less weird if the piece in question was strictly a ballet piece, because I feel more at home in the medium of ballet.
Obviously, all my thoughts on this aren’t terribly well organized.
I am, at least, getting over the cold now, which is good (although at yesterday’s rehearsal, our script-writer described my voice as “Totally Metal!” which was kind of awesome in its own way :D).
…And, of course, I’m already thinking about the Next Big Thing—which, in this case, Orpheus (not my choreography, but I’m dancing all the things), followed by PlayThink, where I’m performing a ballet-and-acro piece with Denis. Can’t wait!
Tiny update: just looked at a video of the second dance we’ve learned for Orpheus, and holy cow, it looks really amazing already! Can’t share that one because Orpheus is still in rehearsals, but I’m stoked.
I could be doing any number of useful things on this, a relatively-free Friday, but here I am, reading through my old blog entries(1) just because.
- …And occasionally being horrified at how very cyclical is the learning of ballet. I realize that what I mean when I say, this year, “I need to get better at placing my arms” or whatever, I actually mean something different than I did two years ago … but jeez. The problem is that you’re always fixing the same body that has the same basic problems; it’s a question of degree rather than kind, I guess.
Anyway, I’ve stumbled across a couple of old reviews, and I figure I should update them.
Thus, here we go:
Sansha Mulberry 2 Legwarmers (discontinued, unfortunately)
When I bought these, I weighed 10 pounds more than I do now and my thighs were bigger than they are now. They’re still huge, but at this point they’re more “male ballet dancer” huge and less “Robert Förstemann, German indoor track cycling champion of the Universe” huge.
^^I’m not this guy. Honestly, I wasn’t even this guy when I used to joke about basically being this guy. But you should watch this video anyway, because it’s seriously the most gripping video ever about toasting a slice of bread.
At the time, they stayed up and served pretty well. Their grippy texture made them less than ideal in a tight sus-sous, as they tend to grab on to each-other and twist as you pull in, but on the balance they were, and are, good legwarmers.
The problem is, of course, that I am now rather leaner, I’ve discovered one minor flaw in the Mulberry 2s: they stretch out more than most legwarmers, and now they won’t stay up on me unless I layer something over them (something tight, that is).
I plan to take them in a little at the top, and then they should be as before: thin, warm, comfortable, but a little grippier, perhaps, than is entirely ideal.
Sansha “Silhouette” Shoes
I believe these have also been discontinued, though they’re still available for purchase in some sizes.
I liked these a lot; for a long time, they were my go-to shoes. They nicely balance the classic good looks and durability of a leather shoe with the breathability and flexibility of a canvas one.
I still haven’t encountered a shoe that shows off my feet quite as well as these. However, I’ve since switched to Bloch’s Pro-Elastics, and I actually like those better than anything else I’ve tried. They simply fit so beautifully, without the need for fiddly adjustments of the top elastic, that I’ve fallen in love with them.
For leather-shoes-required situations, though, I’d still go with Sansha’s silhouettes, most likely.
It’s worth noting that dancing changes your feet, so shoe preferences can also change over time. If you have very flexible feet like mine, you might experience a really significant change in the shape of your feet as your arches strengthen, which can lead to new adventures in shoe choices.
Bloch “Pro Elastic(2)” Shoes
- I’ve linked to the “women’s” version in black on Amazon, because for some reason the Amazon offerings of this model are a mess and even Discount Dance Supply doesn’t do a great job listing them. Meh. Rest assured that it really doesn’t matter which gender your shoes are if you’re ordering Pro Elastics: just order by size and width.
These are now my go-to shoes.
I think they’re one of the models that dancers either love or hate. I love them.
On the Pro Elastic and the similar Synchrony, Bloch has done away with the elastic lacing that runs around the top of the shoe, which can exert pressure either at the Achilles’ tendon or at the instep.
I have high insteps, and that can make it hard to get a good adjustment with the elastic lacing on many shoes(3). The Pro Elastics eliminate that concern.
- K.H. Martin’s flex-canvas shoe, which comes in two cuts—one for dancers with high insteps, and one for dancers with low insteps—is one notable exception. My white shoes are K.H. Martins, and I quite like them.
My feet also tend to run hot, and the Pro Elastics breathe well. They’re light and airy and tend to pretty much disappear when you’re dancing in them (assuming you’ve got the fit right).
The only real drawback, here, is that they don’t come in white or grey. Blargh. I really wish these were at very least available in white, because they I would never need to buy any other shoe ever again.
Oh, and the tights I wore for our performance were M. Stevens’ Milliskin tights, which are simply the best tights that have ever existed, and you should go buy some.
Anyway, I need to do a bunch of housework before tonight’s rehearsal. That about covers it for re-reviews right now. I still need to review the Dance Jox dance belt (which is quickly becoming a favorite) and get around to finishing my epic 4-way comparison review of All The Dance Belts, which I guess will have to be a 5-way review now.
Modern today felt good. It was just me, and LF gave me a cool visualization thing to start with. We did lots of floor work and work with using weight and the head-tail connection to move through space. Very cool stuff.
At first my legs were like, “NO. NO, NO, NO. Nope. Screw you, buddy.” I’m experiencing the kind of achy, fatiguey weirdness that I have when my hormone levels are more out of whack than usual (read: when I’m essentially running on empty), which probably explains it. Seeing an endocrinologist is definitely in the plans for … meh, some time this year.
That said, the legs got over themselves by the of class, and I feel it was a good class overall. I finally admitted to LF that I get stressed out about remembering modern choreography, and she told me not to worry so much about it. On the last run of our final combination, I didn’t. Oddly enough, I remembered way more of it than I thought I would.
Dance Team was awesome today. They did some really good and really original work, and AS and I were really impressed. My own rehearsal also went well.
Ballet with BW was partly a private class—one of the owners of studio was with us much of the time, but had to pop out now and then to take care of admin things. Such is running a business!
Class was very intense—in a good way, as always. Interestingly, I got the exact same physical correction from BW tonight that Killer B me yesterday (or, well, one of them…). Obviously, my shoulders, neck, and chest are a hotbed of ballet problems right now.
I’ve realized that, too some extent, this grows out of a deeply internal focus. When I’m working hard, I to draw into myself mentally—and, it would seem, physically. I’m working on it, though!
Curiously, though, my legs had overcome the morning’s meh-ness … which is good, because I would have died of the rond de jambe combination alone, never mind the fondu and the grand battement, if my legs had continued to suck. The fondu/adagio, in particular, was challenging: slow fondu, slow relevé, slow fondu, extend avant then fondu attitude, hold forever, extend, sus-sous, continue pattern inside leg back, etc. The pace was what made it hard—it’s that combination of precision, restrained power, and grace that makes your blood boil at adagio tempo.
Speaking of grand battement, I realized that I haven’t been leading with the heel when closing from the back. It starts that way, then gets lazy in the last inch or two, which is no good. It makes for a lazy fifth and, over the course of the combination, works the supporting leg loose. I mentioned that to BW, and he gave me an extra set to the back only (though still finishing with plié-passé-attitude devant) to sort it.
We also did the dreaded Kneewhacker Turns, which went better than usual. Interestingly, I did whack my knee quite resoundingly once. It didn’t particularly hurt, but startled the heck out of me. I didn’t do it again, that’s for sure 😀 And, in fact, The Kneewhacker Turns that followed were whack-free.
At center we tendued (with turns) and then drilled double turns from fourth and second. BW had many thoughts my turns, all of which tie into problems I’ve been attempting to solve. My spot wasn’t as slow as it was the other day, except when I was being afraid of the Kneewhacker.
I called it a night after a nice waltzy combination across the floor. My toe had started complaining a little, so I decided to take the conservative route. Little jumps Saturday, maybe, and we’ll see how it goes from there.
After class I my fellow Bike Commuter Cabal operatives for a drink and a late supper. Ben and Jenn Folsom were in town, a rare treat for all of us. It was good to catch up with my bike peeps!
I was on the fence about going to class today, as I woke up feeling foggy and congested.
I went anyway, and was glad of it, since two guys who came for a few weeks last year were in class. They’re both very good, and really quite nice. Sadly, they’re only in town for a week this time—they’re both professionals, and they spend most of their time on tour.
Either way, it was nice having them in class. They’re both good examples for me: relatively muscular guys who dance really nicely. I wanted to tell the taller of the two that he’s basically my hero right now, since he, like me, is built for big, powerful jumps, but is actually really quite good at petit allegro. He makes the small, finicky jumps look pretty freaking great.
Fogginess notwithstanding, I found myself surprisingly able throughout barre, adagio, and turns. BW’s class has proven to be the biggest help to getting me through Killer Class: BW gives me physically demanding fondus, makes me use all my turnout, makes me get my legs up as high as I can and then hold them there, etc.
I did get weirdly woozy at one point during grand battement. I’m not sure if I was holding my breath, or if my blood pressure just dropped through the floor for no reason, but it was weird. The last time that sort of thing happened, I was definitely holding my breath during a long cambré back (in BW’s class, of course) and almost fainted. Wooooooo.
I was also not too terrible during petit allegro, although I kept blanking on a part of the third combination that should’ve been obvious.
I actually did royales without substituting entrechats. I may be the only person alive who learned entrechats before royales, and whose body thus stubbornly persists in refusing to acknowledge the existence of the royale.
It was Killer B’s demo that fixed me: I’ve been thinking of a royale as a sort of half-baked double beat (like an entrechat that’s slow to wake up, or something), but if I think of it as a squeeze-change, I don’t then end up doing an entrechat quatre and thus finish on the wrong foot.
Or, well, I don’t finish on the wrong foot unless I start on the wrong foot, which is always a possibility.
Killer B gave us a long, beautiful grand allegro. Predictably, I landed a pas de chat not terribly well (I was trying not to run into a railing at the edge of the studio), my toe started kvetching at me, and I had to stop.
Or, well, I didn’t have to stop. I could have kept going … only I’ve realized that this toe isn’t going to finish healing until I stop pissing it off all over again. Sometimes you give up the grand allegro for a bit, even though it’s the thing you really love, so you can get back to doing grand allegro without having to bail a third of the way through the nicest grand allegro combination you’ve seen in ages (there was a cabriole and everything!!!).
I thought about getting back up there and hitting the repeat on the grand allegro, but I didn’t. I think that was probably the right decision, particularly since grand allegro is really my strong suit as a dancer and I’m not really losing a great deal by sitting it out once in a while.
Anyway, it turned out to be a much better class than I expected, considering the slow start this morning. Now I’m off to dance team, then probably home for the evening. Last night I was hit with a gigantic wave of fatigue at roughly 8 PM, so between that and the fogginess and the vaguely-itchy throat (and the performance this weekend), I’m taking a conservative approach to physical stuff today.
So I’m going to write a short one and just get it doon.
After last week, during which I lacked A) higher cognitive (and any executive) functions and B) the ability to actually execute a decent pirouette, I appear to be regaining my faculties.
The weekend was highly mediocre ballet-wise, with a really nice moments lightly sprinkled on a field of “meh,” “Wait, what’s the combination?” and just plain “WAT.” Highlights included half-awake me and pre-coffee BG attempting to follow each-other at the barre, with about the degree of success one might predict under the circumstances.
Last night I took class because, in short, I’m an addict. Even though I was late (and made friend L, who came with me, late) thanks to challenges resulting from last week’s brain fog(1), it wasn’t half bad. I managed some nice doubles and some intentional, if not awesome, triples.
- Dear Sunday-Evening-Just-Past Me:Where did you put my keys?! THIS IS NOT FUNNY 😦 😦 }:(
Today’s technique tidbit: take a second before launching your turns (with all guns blazing, if you’re anything like me) to feel a few things. Where are your trochanters in their hip sockets? Is the pelvis rotated or tilted? If so, can you adjust it? (Unless you’re in a ridiculously huge 4th,the core muscles can usually correct the pelvis.)
Obviously, this is easiest to do when the music is slow, so use your discretion, but it can be really helpful. More than once, I’ve caught myself preparing turns with one hip cocked, which isn’t what one might call a Best Practice.
Still couldn’t stop second-guessing myself during petit allegro, though, which resulted in a petit allegro that looked as if I’d been told, “Using the medium of ballet, interpret the behavior of a ball in one of those showy random-number generators they used to use in televised lottery drawings.”
What’s the rule, again?
“There’s no THINKing in BALlet!”
—Not Tom Hanks in A League Of Their Own, but close enough.
…So that was Monday, also known as Logical Friday The Second, because my schedule is FUBAR.
Oh, and I think I acquitted myself decently in our lone grand allegro, which is good, because I kept running over myself in a high-momentum tombé-pdb during Sunday’s.
I just couldn’t turn today.
Or,well…that’s not entirely true. I nailed a few really nice singles and maybe one nice double, but it wasn’t a good turning day.
My spot was, for some reason, extra slow.
My working foot didn’t to go where it was supposed to (seriously, at one point I closed an en dehors turn with the toe to the front of the knee, then moved it to the back immediately … just, WAT?!).
I hopped out of more than one double.
I blame my left ear, which is being weird. At one point I had to lie down on the floor and give myself a bit of the ol’ Epley Manœuvre.
I also blame Roberto Bolle, who showed up last night in one of those dreams that just go on and on, no matter how many times you blink briefly awake. I don’t remember it terribly well, but I think we were doing Swan Lake, with Bolle both dancing and directing.
Mostly I remember him yelling at me about my arabesque: higher, straighter, point that working toe harder, what’s that supporting foot trying to do? Get that demi-point UP!
My arabesques were, in fact, very nice today, though. So, thanks for that, Mr. Bolle
Dr. Dancebelt also featured in this dream as a disembodied voice over the house PA system. I remember thinking that was odd: we never saw him, but we knew he was there.
Ultimately, this is what I get for watching Paris Opera Ballet doing “Études,” Bolle in “Manon,” the remainder of Bourne’s Swan Lake (2012) all one evening. Weird dreams and bad turns.
I wasn’t awesome at the grand allegro: it ended with a change of direction via piqué soutenu, and I just couldn’t remember that.
On the upside, my extensions are back above 90 even à côté, I managed not to flail in tour lent en attitude, and I actually didn’t hose up the petit allegro.
So there you have it. Wednesday, now with 100% more advice from Dream Bolle.