September 22nd, 2007


Wheeldon's Morphoses at Sadler's Wells

(Apologies if this shows up twice.)
Last night was the Wheeldon Company's Metamorphoses program at Sadlers' Wells, and a better night for ballet aficionados could hardly be imagined. Well, okay, it wasn't all perfect, but the highs were the sort that have kept us going to see this stuff for years, rolling the dice and hoping to get lucky. (And with music by Part and Bryars and Prokofiev, even the down time was great.) The two best pieces in this program of mostly short bits were the first and the last, both by Wheeldon. "Morphoses" had four dancers doing a variety of athletic, innovative partnering to music of Ligeti. I felt like I could never anticipate what they would do next.
The last piece was practically two pasted together; first a pas de six, then a m/f duet. For this, the woman came back on stage with her feet bare and her hair down. To me, it felt like she was naked - utterly vulnerable. The man was barefoot and bare chested. Their dancing was so intimate I felt like I was intruding to watch them. Every lift was perfect and strong; I felt like the dancers were revealing their true selves to each other while they danced, and we were the fortunate eavesdroppers on a very private moment. It was a fantastic end to the program and left me thrilled about the entire evening and looking forward to seeing them again.
Footnote: earlier in the day I did a walking tour of The City and went to Buckingham Palace with my visiting friend; these things were also fun but I'm just not going to have time to write about them properly.
Sea dragon

My guests are all gone at last

Jesus, I just woke up. I slept ten hours straight. I weigh 172 pounds.

Screw shopping, screw Polyday, screw doing anything responsible, I'm going to dick off all day and RELAX RELAX RELAX. I am worn out. WORN OUT. Hanging with friends and chilling out, that's going to be my day, and NO dealing with people I don't know. There's enough morons on the streets to keep THAT taken care of for me in spades.

By the way, my West Wing loving friends, Stockard Channing is in Awake and Sing, which I saw last night at the Almeida in Islington with shadowdaddy, scarlettina, and wechsler. It's a well-acted and brilliantly written play about a family in America in the 1930s with a GREAT atheist Marxist grandpa and ... well, even though W and I were completely exhausted, we were utterly engaged with the show. Check it out. (PS: Can you believe I saw five shows in less than two weeks? No wonder I'm tired!)

PPS: Am also going to pet Boo, who seems very lonely and cute.