Dance

Trying to keep resolutions

Posted on March 6, 2010 at 10:33 pm

“Here are my fees, Ms Rosita. It’s for Saturday classes only. I’m not doing the Monday classes for a couple of months.”
“What?! Why?! Is it because of…”
“No, please be assured it’s not.”

The hardest thing I did was to bring Ms Rosita into confidence. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, I think I didn’t trust myself to open up to her, but end result was some great insight and advice. This in turn has allowed me to mellow out and stop partaking in what I now privately refer to as Clusterf@#k to the Dance Company. Plus, I’m going home in two and a half weeks, and I don’t want to be neither here nor there with classes and fees, so I weighed up my choices and this was the best one. I’ll still be paying for three Saturday classes that I won’t be attending, but Ms Rosita is the kind of teacher who would insist on a private lesson to make up for it. Right now, I’d much rather work on syllabus than open repertoire.

Although I think I disappointed Ms Rosita further when I said I had no intention of partaking in the upcoming workshops by a visiting professional. My reasons, once again, can always be financial, but I know deep down there might be a 20 per cent in there that I don’t want to do it because of abovementioned Clusterf@#k.

Whatever it is, I do feel quite satisfied with my decisions at the moment. I have vacation time to look forward to and free time to myself.

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Noche Flamenca 2009 Tour

Posted on July 19, 2009 at 1:11 am

Home from watching Noche Flamenca. Ms Rosita was kind enough to have an earlier class today so I could run home to get ready, but I was still rushing.

We’d met a couple of the dancers earlier in the week. Madam Principal had organized two evenings of workshops. I signed up for Level 1, which felt more like Level 100, at the rate Juan Fernandez was going. He was a fabulous teacher, but he went at the pace of what flamenco dance schools in Spain apparently go. Which is the speed of light.

Unfortunately I couldn’t stay to watch the other two levels on the first evening, having to run off to tango lessons. Which sucked, I would have loved to have seen what Soledad Barrio taught the higher levels. Her performance made up for missing the first evening. I did manage to catch the second evening, but the teacher this time was El Torombo. The only way I could describe him at the class is: nuts.

Seriously. He played a snippet of flamenco music, mostly cante (singing) and then he stops, and his 5-minute ramble went something like this to my ear (and brain):

ElTorombo: Spanish spanish spanish spanish Bob Marley spanish spanish spanish Michael Jackson.
MyBrain: What. The. Fuck.

Cue him playing an MJ tune. I had to hide my face at that moment, though I am sure Madame Principal must have thrown me a dirty look at some point because I could not hide my shaking shoulders. Thankfully I did not start howling with laughter. He was a strange fellow, you had to see his antics. I understood what he was trying to explain at some point, but really, did it need to involve metaphors of trains and borrowing a handbag to illustrate god knows what?

Gina and Ryn (my seniors) had warned he was even more flamboyant on stage. At one of the shows, he took off his shirt. I prayed to the gods I would not be witness to this, hoping that the improvisation so embedded in flamenco will keep that from being a repeat performance. His style is a lot less controlled than that of Barrio’s or Fernandez’s. It was a lot more fun, though. That’s not to say that Fernandez wasn’t as good, I loved his farruca, the strength in that piece was pretty amazing. And he’s just a really lovely dancer to watch, with a really friendly smile. Between Juan Fernandez and Joaquin Cortez, I pick Fernandez. Sorry Joaquin, you’re like the Ronaldo of flamenco, therefore, wtf.

So Gina and Ryn figured out the Spanish phrase for “Nice ass!” for when Juan Fernandez next came onstage, much to my horror. Look, he was a lovely teacher, very friendly, etc. but the urge to grab a pair of scissors to snip the mullet off? Unstoppable if I didn’t have any common sense. And then, karma is laughing somewhere and then he does this booty-swaying thing at the finale and my eyes bugged out, followed by an “OY VEY.” However, I would still not tap that. Come on. Ew.

(I was standing in the front row at the workshops. Karma is totally laughing at me.)

Soledad Barrio had my jaw on the floor the whole time. For one thing, none of her performances involved a bata de cola. Yes, it’s very impressive to dance with a skirt that has a long train, but it just gets kind of old if it’s used all the time. Gala Flamenca drove me bonkers when every single female dancer, including the great Belen Maya, danced wearing a bata de cola. Barrio kept her costumes simple, preferring to let the footwork do all the talking. Boy, did it talk. The speed of some of her footwork could put the Bionic Woman to shame.

After the show, Gina and Ryn wanted to find the stage door. I managed to persuade them to come get a drink at the bar first, not wanting to use my Stage Door Locating Skillz of We Will Rock You Origin superpower. Of course I doubt this particular show would attract many screaming groupies. Also, El Torombo scared the bejesus out of me, Barrio was just plain intimidating on account of being an Awesome Flamenco Dancer, and Fernandez, well, I did not have a pair of scissors, but I would have totally checked out his booty at that close a range and it would not have been very discreet.

So the entire week of flamenco overload is over. I’m partly glad, because I’ve had the flu, and now I can sleeeeeeeeep.

1 Comment

Pause. Rewind. Oops.

Posted on June 21, 2009 at 2:43 am

Before class, Madame Principal was talking to Ms Rosita, mentioning another student who had recently gotten engaged.

Ms Rosita exclaimed, “Oh my, everyone’s getting engaged! You’ll be next, Jean!”

AWK. WARD.

“Er. No.”

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Awesome, but still achy

Posted on June 7, 2009 at 9:01 pm

The last time I ached all over was the day after the flamenco performance a month ago. Ms Rosita believed it was due to the floor, being hard parquet, made us work harder to get any sound out.

Yesterday I had three and a half hours of class, having requested a private lesson with Ms Rosita beforehand. It was brilliant and helpful, having the full attention of the teacher who is able to correct every section, not to mention fill in all the blanks for work you completely missed out on while struggling with the guajiras. She very slowly went through work I wasn’t sure of, and it made all the difference at class after.

She made me do some of the other work by myself just to see how much I remembered, and then corrected or refined as I went along.

The private lesson made class a lot more bearable after. For one thing, it was a lot easier to block out the usual whining and just concentrate on working on what I had learned earlier in the afternoon. The one-on-one was one of the best private dance lessons I’ve ever had, Ms Rosita is an excellent teacher. What I really needed, which I never get in the class, was the opportunity to perfect the work. Having the lesson helped me feel more confident instead of just fudging or stopping and staring bewilderingly at the footwork.

After class, unfortunately, Haz asked if I was going to watch Star Trek, which made my brain go poing!, and my fingers automatically buying tickets online. However, I will still continue to abuse Haz the way she abused me when she found out I had er, conveniently put off watching Star Trek. It was a late showing, but with a hot chocolate, it was a very relaxing late night-movie.

Except I forgot I had Sunday morning flamenco practice, and when my alarm rang at 7am, I had to drag myself out of bed despite too little sleep and my entire body in pain. Sleeping the rest of today was bliss.

Hmm. Bliss. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? No doubt this feeling will be short-lived, but I will savour the moment anyway.

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Autopilot disconnected

Posted on May 31, 2009 at 2:29 am

Wandering around Ikea felt like another breath of fresh air. No doubt next week I’ll be back to my normal Saturday, but again, it was just something different. I had been putting off the second CD tower for months, so it was as good a time as any since it coincided with the massive cleanout. I even got some drawer organizers which is awesome.

Flamenco in the afternoon was a bit of a downer. I got reprimanded for answering back to a derogatory comment a classmate made last week. The only thing recalled was, obviously, my biting retort. The classmate’s comment was, when asked to demonstrate something that involved lifting the skirt high, that she’d see my underwear. I said, very calmly, that it’s obvious I wear stockings and leotards, and she went on about my not wearing any underwear. What are we, 12?

It made me stop and wonder whether I should carry on with this class or go one grade back. At least I won’t have to put up with such comments and constantly being pushed to the front just because some think I know the work, when, just like them, I’m still learning.

Then again, wherever you go, there’s bound to be a douchebag or two present. I know I also need to understand some don’t see dressing appropriately for dance as a necessity, whereas I’ve had it hammered into my brain since forever.

Quitting isn’t an option. I’ve had that ‘off’ feeling for a while, of course, but I’ve invested far too much time and money to quit just because of someone who spends most of the class whining along the lines of, “I can’t do it,” “I hate this exercise”, “It’s too hard,” and “Castanets are very easy to master.”

No, seriously, the last one. My jaw fell to the floor, and thankfully I was still smarting from the reprimand so my mouth’s autopilot was on disconnect. Holy jeebus. Castanets are very easy to master?! Tell that to Madame Principal, a castanets virtuoso, why don’t you. Bet you her reply’s going to sting more than anything I could ever come up with.

Whatever. I’ve got to keep going, regardless.

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Draw with Arsenal, win trophy

Posted on May 18, 2009 at 6:55 pm

HEE!! Premier League champions for the 11th time!! After watching the replay (minus nervous beating heart) I went to bed ridiculously late, which wasn’t a good idea since I was heading to Gina’s house for flamenco practice at 7am. Gina’s in Grade 5 which is great because she helps clarify a lot of the Grade 3 syllabus I’m working through now. She’s also from Lancashire, but her husband is a Blackburn Rovers fan. The brain of this Manchester United fan does not comprehend.

Gina: Alan, this is Bella. She’s the girl I told you about.
Alan: Which one?
Gina: The Manchester United fan.
Alan: Good lord… the one that cried when she visited Old Trafford?
Me: Uh, hi?
Alan: Next time you come over you’ll be served coffee in a Rovers cup.

He commented on the game against Arsenal, which I agreed was rather lacklustre on United’s part until very late in the second half. We both did notice that Arsenal were playing the exact formation United played in when they kicked Arsenal out of the Champions League semifinal (2nd leg). Goes to show Arsene Wenger can still learn a few tricks from Sir Gaffer.

There is only one plea for the off-season: please keep Carlos Tevez. IF TEVEZ DOESN’T STAY I’M GOING TO SPEND THE ENTIRE NEXT SEASON ABUSING BERBATOV. DON’T ASK ME WHY, I JUST LIKE ABUSING BERBATOV.

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