On Friday, I went to see my sister-in-law Sally Stroup's final dance recital. For 15 years she's been putting on shows with kids from four and up. This year's recital was held in the Marwick Boyd Auditorium. A thousand people. Two hundred dancers. Five hundred costumes. Forty-five acts.
The performance ran the gamut from old to new, from innocence to experience, from six year-olds in their tutus, to debutants in their black leotards and diaphonous skirts, to my niece Katie Martin, all of 24 years old, doing "All That Jazz." I got particularly choked up at the young girls pirouetting to "Edelweiss" (was trying to figure out some kind of geometry where chicken fat bisects love to create the point called schmaltz).
Seeing the performance gave me a chance to think about what we consider classical dance and how various forms of dance are added to what we call classic and how sensuality is added and subtracted from dance. Finally, it gave me a chance to not think at all, which is, of course, one of the best things about dance.
One more thing, something Benjamin pointed out to me: Sally included a note at the beginning of the printed program, but she didn't sign it, an example of how self-effacing she can be. In fact, her name was nowhere in the program. I can hear her now, "It was nothing." Yeah, Sal, the next time I feel like doing nothing I'll help raise hundreds of kids, teach them their right from their left, have them push the limits of their abilities, and then have them perform in front of a thousand people.
Posted by mastr at May 28, 2003 08:10 AMyou put the right words to the evening. thanks.
Posted by: Liz at June 4, 2003 09:53 PM