A couple of months ago, one of my foxes sent me a breathless email, saying Alvin Ailey’s dance company was coming to town, and that she was going to get a ticket, and that I simply must as well, and won’t we have have just the most swell time in the world, getting dressed up and watching dancers do their thing… of course I had to say YES. (Not to mention the fact that this fox in particular is always a terrific date – we have fun everywhere we go.)
So, indeed we did get dressed up – I wore a black satin pencil skirt and a cream patterned blouse with a gathered neckline, and black platform peep-toe pumps. It’s good to get gussied up when you go to the theatre, I reckon. There are so few places where “formality” works (at least, in my world) so I love to break out the shiny things whenever possible. (There’s a reason I mention this, but I’ll get to it later.)
Anyway. Alvin Ailey Dancers. Holy balls.
There’s something really amazing about watching dancers perform. To start with, their sinewy silhouettes make them look like Oscar statues all in a row… their bodies are so very beautiful, you find your breath taken clean away before they’ve made a pas de deux. They are gorgeous.
And the stories they tell, as they leap with impossibility, and twirl a dizzying amount of times, keeps you rapt – completely focused. These are the stories of how a people were stolen from one place, bought and sold in another, then forced to make a brand new life. The music begins quiet and quirky, and then builds with drums, and surges with danger, and ebbs with wonder… and then the dancers vanish.
And then men came back, in one of my favourite numbers called The Hunt, wearing wide, full, floor-length, high-waisted skirts lined with bright red satin. Like a whirling Dervish’s dress, only black. And otherwise naked.
There were original musical arrangements, and old-time spirituals in the mix.
The music sang fix me Jesus, fix me… and they danced, with heartache and sorrow that made tears spring to our eyes.
The music sang wade in the water, children… and they danced, with a soft sea change of buoyancy. Literally.
The music sang rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham… and they danced, danced, danced, with jubilation, leaping and smiling.
The evening was peppered with standing ovations throughout, but by the end, the entire audience was on it’s feet, cheering Bravo!! and giving these spectacular storytellers the loudest, longest standing ovation I’ve seen in ages. My hands smarted for quite some time after all that clapping.
Wow. Pure magic, made with gorgeous, strong, amazing bodies doing things we Dull Normals simply cannot do. Like, unbelievable. PHEW… it was riveting, to say the very least.
Now for the icing…
As we filed out of the place, en masse, taking mincing steps towards the exit as hundreds of people do all at one time, I spied a tidy black head, much like my own, and then another… two young men, also filing out of the place kept catching my eye in the crowd, and as we channeled towards the stairs together, we found ourselves almost shoulder to shoulder, ready to make our ascent.
Handsome Boy of About Twenty-Four Years of Age turned to me shyly and said, “You look very beautiful.”
Well, of all the… *clutches pearls*
Me: Well, aren’t YOU a darling… thank you! *smiles*
He: Your skirt is gorgeous. *smiles*
Me: *smoothes satin and sways hips a little* Thank you, I love it too. You look quite dashing yourself, sir.
He smiles some more, and juts his elbow out for me to take, which I smartly do, since we’re heading down the stairs now, and my stilettos are sky-high. I would have been a shame to break my neck in that instant, as I was busy being all chatted up and everything.
After forty seconds of conversation about how much we lo
ved the performance, and concluding that no, neither of us were dancers (snort) we reach the landing, and I take my hand off his arm, and regard this adorable man-child with the bright eyes and the clean, bald head. He could be my (baby) brother.
ved the performance, and concluding that no, neither of us were dancers (snort) we reach the landing, and I take my hand off his arm, and regard this adorable man-child with the bright eyes and the clean, bald head. He could be my (baby) brother.
He: I think it’s so nice when people dress up for the theatre…
Me: *slaps thigh as mouth drops open* I KNOW, RIGHT?!
He: It’s just more… civilized.
Aaaaaand, scene.
Seeeeee? I ain’t lyin’. Break out your fun stuff when headed out to places like this. The performers doing their very best for you… I figure, the least we can do is leave our Teva sandals and ballcaps *shudders* in the closet at home in favour of some kind of… sparkle.
People, please – if you have opportunity, do check out The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre at your earliest convenience. It’s a transcending experience that I highly recommend. And also check out Racheal’s interview and photo-stylings over here.
(These images are all gleaned from the net – no cameras were allowed during the performances, of course.)
Oh, Thanks Racheal! I never even thought to ask you… I will next time! Man, that show was awesome… I’m still kinda vibrating from the whole thing. WONDERFUL!!
Next time, ask me and I’ll give you images! Loved this show and wish I’d been able to see both programmes.
Let’s kick it old school yo *toes curling with anticipation*
It was really divine, Idas. I’ll come and grab you when Alice and I hit the town sometime…
xox
Tracey, as it I didn’t live vicariously enough through you already…I have to thank you for this post.
The review alone made me feel like I was already there peeking through a curtain (that form of dance makes me see heaven on earth) , and then your experience pushes it right over to the “made my day” realm.
I file this post under Polished Swagger.
love you
I mean it
i
It was a great evening, Julie – and if you ever get the chance, PLEASE GO!!
i’m so happy you got to see them! that’s a bucket list item for me. i have’t seen them live, only on t.v.
love the flirty story!
I’d be soooo in. 🙂
Thanks, Alice. And one day, you and I are gonna have SUCH a party, girl… for realz. Hold onto your pants…
Oh, it’s all just… perfection. You in your fines, the beauty and the power onstage, the fab little endnote. *sigh* You’re making me happy by proxy with all that, lady. love that you had such a exquisite gem of a night! xo.
Yes, it’s spectacular… your tiny dancer would love it, I’m sure! And yes, I’m all for getting decked out – conversely, I loathe seeing people saunter in like they’ve just left the gym. *cue sad trombone*
Man, that production was truly amazing. And that man-boy was SO cute, Jen… I think the other one he was with was his “friend” but still – a decadent evening all around. I wish I’d had a pic too. 🙁
I have heard they are simply breathtaking. I would love to take my little aspiring dancer to a performance. Double joy to watch the performance and her wide-eyed wonder… Plus totally agree about dressing up. I love going to the theatre and seeing the folks who get all decked out.
I SO wanted a pic of you with your Man-Boy…or even just you in your Sunday best.
I totally know what you mean about dancers’ bodies. They are art in and of themselves.
This looks spectacular!