A Little Tea or Something

As usual, Shakespeare on the Square nearly got away from me. This is typical. I hear the dates and the plays announced months in advance, think I have loads of time to see them, and then they’re nearly gone. This was the final weekend: I’m sorry to say I made it only to Love’s Labor’s Lost (last night), and will miss the final performance of Merchant of Venice, tonight. If you are a local reader of this blog and are unfamiliar with Tennessee Stage Company’s annual presentation of Shakespeare outdoors, then you live in a shoe box you must make it a point to go next summer; this is some of the best live entertainment Knoxville has to offer, and it’s free (although the company really appreciates a little snippet of something from your wallet when the basket is passed around, and I’m sure they don’t sniff at big, fat donations).

Last night’s jaunt to Market Square (our second of the day) was tricky. It involved a large number of friends who were to meet at an uncertain time in the general vicinity of the square, at an evolving location (what would we do without cell phones?); a teenager who insisted he should be allowed to go home if the girl he was desperate to see could not get a ride there (I could not go get her), as her mother was not feeling well; still more complicated travel arrangements; a crowded table at a favorite eatery whose service was, er, laboring to keep up (but whose patrons on this occasion arrived admittedly Really Late); instructions to place metal folding chairs and thus save spots for friends, only to discover there were no folding chairs (then they just haven’t put them out yet, said the friends, after I called to announce this crisis); plenty of irreverent behavior to go around; a service dog-in-training; mid-play libations at a nearby pub; and Second Dinner for the teenager afterwards at yet another eatery. (Note to my dear, sweet, best-friend-in-the-world Betsy: you know that (first) I am a princess, and (second) I deal poorly with any kind of change in plans, so, in the words of Eloise, and in regards to my general demeanor last night, You can imagine….) In spite of all that, I enjoyed what I was able to see and hear of the play.

Tom Parkhill (right, as Berowne), Tennessee Stage Company’s founding artistic director, is friend to both the Young family and Knoxville Ballet School.

By the way: many of Shakespeare’s plays have been made into ballets. Romeo and Juliet is counted among the repertoire of most major ballet companies (I have yet to find a really good version on video); Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s choreography is hands-down my favorite. Also, Balanchine made A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Sir Frederick Ashton choreographed a delightful, hour-long ballet version of the play, entitled The Dream. In 1980 Michael Smuin made a beautiful version of The Tempest for San Francisco Ballet; that production aired on PBS in the same year but regrettably is not available on video.

And finally, here is Frankie the Malte-Poo (and project of my friend’s oldest daughter), who just seemed happy to be outside:

I am sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.

—The Merchant of Venice

Got that, Frankie?

It’s a name I hope the ballet world will be hearing more of someday. Gwynn is a young student at Johnson City Ballet Academy, where my mom has been coaching her for the past couple of years, and is now also one of her teachers. I met Gwynn in 2007 at the regional semifinals of the Youth America Grand Prix in Greenville, South Carolina, where she danced a beautiful variation from Paquita, a very testy (but beautifully danced) Kitri variation from Don Quixote, and a lovely contemporary piece; she finished in the top twelve, as one of the younger competitors in the senior division.

For some time now I have been begging Gwynn to allow me to photograph her for a brochure some of my families (and especially dads) really need: “Making a Classical Bun.” Last weekend the opportunity at last presented itself; Gwynn’s mom—landscape artist Peggy—drove her all the way from Johnson City to Knoxville so I could snap pictures. While she was at the school, Peggy was also able to make photographs of Gwynn for her application to the Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet, where she hopes to study this fall:

While I had young Gwynn at hand, I asked her to do something called the “superman” contraction—this is an exercise that strengthens the musculature in the upper and lower back. Gwynn has an extraordinary back that is both flexible and strong as steel. Some of my students do this exercise between barre and centre floor work, so these pictures are for them:

Peggy was also kind enough to send me some professionally-made photographs of Gwynn: these were from the Aurora variation (Sleeping Beauty, Act III) that Gwynn danced at this year’s YAGP, where she once again placed in the top twelve:

And here is Gwynn as Kitri:

Knoxville Ballet School wishes to thank Susan Pace at Johnson City Ballet Academy, and all the Roots—Tom, Peggy, Gwynn, and Charles—for loaning us your beautiful ballerina. And to the readers of my blog: support a ballerina! Buy some art and music!

His name is Brian Pittman, and you can purchase his work at Bliss Home on Market Square; here is a detail from the drawing just around the corner from the Square:

Fun in the water fountain this morning; I love how the child in the foreground appears to be levitating:

The facade of the Emporium on Gay Street, where teenager has acting class; Kristopher Kendrick once taught me to look UP at interesting buildings:

Found this:

It is the work of the “cathedral-drawing guy” Almostgotit mentions in her comment on my July 26th post; anybody know his name?

Teenager is taking a theatre class downtown on Saturdays for the next few weeks; today was the first. Because the class is only an hour and a half, I decided to stay put and explore rather than drive home and back. I had a thoroughly self-indulgent little while, including a quiet iced coffee with my book at a corner window table in a shop that sells coffee AND CHOCOLATE (would that this post were scratch-and-sniff); and a fun gander through the outdoor merchants around the corner on Market Square, where I bought a loaf of ciabatta and Jewish rye, no preservatives (The freezer is your friend, says the man). I shot two pictures before my camera batteries failed, of perhaps the most ambitious graffiti ever:

Herr Munch, and Monsieur Van Gogh: They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery…. AND, you can “call Tammy for quotes” whilst admiring the art.

And this:

The doctor is in.

Teenager made this astute observation: Dude—it’s not graffiti—it’s somebody’s art project.

My bad. I had fun knocking around downtown, anyway, in my black ABT baseball cap and Converse sneakers; I felt urban and anonymous, dude.

After poring over Patricio Melo’s stunning photographs of Ballet de Santiago with my students (see July 13th post below), I asked my summer school Ballet I class to imitate the close-up image of the hands from the Ballet de Santiago dancer in La Bayadere. Here they are:

And here they are again, minus the hands as art. (But these girls are works of art themselves.) I am also experimenting with changing the file size of my pictures, so hopefully the download time for the blog will improve…. Only one week remaining in summer term 2008.

In the last few months I’ve gotten to know the work of Patricio Melo a little bit (at left). He is a soloist with Ballet de Santiago (Santiago, Chile), and a clearly gifted young dance photographer. Patricio is also a contributor at the Winger; if you go there and click on the word “posts” under his picture in the sidebar, you can see some of his stunning work. Move over, Rosalie O’Connor.

What I like most is how Patricio captures the ordinary and somehow makes it sing—a sweaty dancer’s back in company class; a beautifully stretched foot in a shredded leg warmer; a hot ballet classroom with torn tape on the floor. This is probably because I love the process of creating dance as much as I do the final product. (But make no mistake—his performance photos are also brilliant.)

Because the dancers at Ballet de Santiago are so beautiful in stills, I decided to poke around a bit to see whether I could find any video of Ballet de Santiago dancers in rehearsal. First, check out this clip of principal Luis Ortigoza working with Richard Cragun on John Cranko’s Initials R.B.M.E. Then visit Ballet de Santiago’s website to see a beautiful rehearsal video of André Prokovsky’s Ana Karenina. (Note: any of my students who saw Louisville Ballet’s “Visionary Forces” mixed rep performance with me last November saw Mr. Prokovsky’s choreography in the ballet, Vespri.) Finally, go to the bottom of Patricio’s July 13^th post at the winger and watch the beautiful video montage of the company’s production of Carmen (caution, parents: this ballet is very steamy and sensual).

Ballet de Santiago’s current artistic director is the legendary Marcia Haydée; she was made principal with the Stuttgart Ballet (Germany) early in the 1960s, where John Cranko created many roles on her, and she eventually became artistic director there before returning to her native South America. If you have seen the Shirley MacLaine/Anne Bancroft movie, The Turning Point, then you saw Marcia Haydée dance for a nanosecond, along with many other ballet luminaries.

The dancers and work coming out of South America these days continue to amaze me. I am adding Ballet de Santiago to my must-see-them-before-I-die list. Thanks, Patricio!

This is one of Patricio’s beautiful rehearsal images; the dancer’s name is Lidia.

Here is another one of my favorite posts, restored from my original blog. If you are reading this, I trust you are sitting in a cool room, maybe with a tall iced tea or some fizzy water. It is HOT outside today!

“Herman and Erica Cornejo are poised for stardom at ABT.” So reads the subtitle of an article about this brother and sister pair in the September 2004 edition of Dance Magazine, in a section called “Latin Explosion” (the two are from Argentina). Fast forward to the present: Herman is currently a principal at American Ballet Theatre, and Erica is now a principal at Boston Ballet. Stardom indeed. If you have never heard of or seen Herman Cornejo, go immediately to amazon.com and buy Sir Frederick Ashton’s The Dream after you read this post.

I noticed Herman Cornejo in earnest about five years ago after the release of that video on DVD, as performed by American Ballet Theatre; he dances Puck in this startlingly beautiful condensed version of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Since that time I’ve become so enamored of his dancing that he is hands-down my favorite male dancer (everyone who knows me well: go ahead and roll your eyes…you know I’m partial to ABT men). When I coach older kids who are struggling with pirouettes, I ask them to watch him in that performance. Not only does his work appear effortless (as it should), but he holds no tension anywhere in his neck and shoulders as he manages six, seven, eight turns—but who’s counting?

Did I mention his jumps? They also appear effortless, and sustained; as I tell my young students, he hangs in the air so long he could have a tea party up there. In that particular video he executes a double cabriole so powerfully that you can actually hear the “thwack” as his legs beat. And, having seen (and heard) him dance live a couple of times in the theater, I can say he appears to achieve this jaw-dropping power in his allegro consistently. Here’s where the story really gets good: he’s not a prima donna. “Herman is like Clark Kent stepping into a phone booth,” jokes ABT artistic director Kevin McKenzie. “Onstage he has this expansive confidence as he flies around; offstage he’s polite and self-effacing.” (Hanna Rubin, Dance Magazine, September 2004)

No surprise, then, that Herman Cornejo was one of the forty-three dancers invited to participate in photographer and video artist David Michalek’s Slow Dancing exhibit that opened this past summer at Lincoln Center (the exhibit is currently on tour). Each dancer was asked to choreograph five seconds of movement that was then captured on a high-def camera at 1000 frames per second, resulting in about ten minutes of extremely slow motion. The images were projected on screens in the plaza at Lincoln Center, and shown randomly; you have to pay attention to notice the movement. David Michalek, by the way, is married to NYCB principal Wendly Whelan, also one of the featured dancers in the exhibit.

Here’s the fun part of this post. Go to www.slowdancingfilms.com, and click on media; an image of Herman Cornejo greets you. Play this fabulous video—it is the final 2 minutes and 45 seconds of Mr. Cornejo’s piece. Admire this incredible specimen of a dancer and his athletic physique.

(Photo credits: head shot, Ballet Theatre Foundation, copyright 2008; Le Spectre de la Rose, Marty Sohl, Ballet Theatre Foundation, copyright 2003-2008)

Originally posted March 11, 2008.

And finally, go here for some stunning dance photos by Patricio Melo of Ballet de Santiago (Santiago, Chile). Mmmmm….

We are happily home again from another July 4th weekend at our cottage in Highlands, NC. And in case you didn’t know, Highlands is a hamlet in Western North Carolina’s Appalachians, in the Nantahala National Forest. Established in the late nineteenth century, its resident population is quite small—just around 250 families or so—but because it has become a decidedly resort town, its seasonal population is about 15,000 or more. The town sits at 4118 feet; our cottage on Satulah Mountain is higher still.

Husband and I discovered Highlands before we became parents, and were so enchanted that we vacationed in a rented log house there for about a decade. A few years ago we decided to buy a place of our own. So our son has spent some of his growing-up summer time there with us, and we have celebrated July 4th there for many years now. One of the most endearing qualities about Highlands is that it isn’t on the way to anything—you have to work to get there; so it hasn’t been commercialized like some other mountain resort towns. The drive for us is about three hours (mostly uphill), but once there, we feel like we’re a thousand miles from home. An essay in photos:

July 3

Just over the North Carolina state line heading into the mountains

A rousing game of dominoes on our first night

In spite of the blurring, I included this picture because, if you look in the background, you will note that the television is turned off. This is a small miracle.

General hilarity as Teddy Blue wanders through (and destroys) the game

July 4

One of many Mountain Laurel in bloom on our property

I can never remember the difference between a Mountain Laurel and a Rhododendron, but husband says the plant with the larger leaf has the smaller name: ergo, this is a Mountain Laurel. (I just had to point out to him that Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron each have the same number of syllables….)

Laurel bloom

Path from cottage to stream

Extraordinarily dry stream bed and waterfalls

Highlands has suffered from a couple of terribly dry seasons, as have other parts of the Southeast, and desperately needs rain. Normally this stream surges so powerfully that we can hear it from inside our house, but it is now reduced to just a trickle. Our son has entertained himself for years in the stream, turning over the rocks to see what kind of creature skitters out; it is magic. I shot this looking up Satulah, but the downward part of the stream is also beautiful and more navigable. Black bears and other creatures use the stream to climb and descend the mountain.

Morning view across the valley as seen from our deck

House for rent, cheap! (No pun intended.)

This Colonial Williamsburg-style birdhouse was a gift from dear friends of ours; we placed it on the tree a couple of years back, but still no takers!

July 4th Jaunt Into Town

Our favorite casual dining in town; authentic Mexican

In line at Pescado’s

The staff there were a tad suspicious as to the reason the strange camera-wielding lady in line was taking their picture….

Next stop: Buck’s on Main for iced coffee and a cookie

Buck’s is a coffee shop owned by former Highlands mayor, Buck Trotter. It is hands-down the best coffee house I’ve ever patronized. (Forget that silly chain on every corner.)

Busy afternoon at Buck’s

Mountain Fresh Grocery

On the other end of town there is a more standard “supermarket”-style grocery with a wider selection, but we love this place. It has a small-town charm about it, and an impressive selection of wines (liquor laws are very different in North Carolina than in Tennessee). The store is kind of Mayberry-meets-Dean and Deluca. Yum.

Teddy Blue shoes

After we returned from town, Teddy Blue and husband went on an ambitious run up and down Whiteside Mountain, not once, but multiple times. (After nearly three hours I was getting panicky.) Teddy Blue wears special “shoes” to protect his pads from the rooty, rocky terrain of the mountain trails. He actually loves them, and gets many comments from passers-by. (And they really do keep his pads from bruising and abrasions.)

July 4th dinner at the cottage

Didn’t think to move the unattractive cardboard box out of the way first; drat. On the menu this year: grilled salmon; corn on the cob: basmati rice; tossed salad with homemade croutons and other yummy things; and homemade vanilla ice cream with peaches and blueberries.

Note the convenient table height for large shepherds….

July 5

Screen Porch Ballet Classroom

I missed my chance to run on the 4th and awoke feeling thoroughly un-exercised on the 5th. I dressed to run, but decided to try my own brand of Suzanne Farrell outdoors ballet, North Carolina-style. I used the back of one of our massive log chairs as a barre, and stood on the rug in my sock feet. Since many of my teaching CDs are also stored on my iPod, I was able to give myself a ballet class in the woods with the music playing through my headset. It was divine (and altogether different at nearly 5000 feet).

Ballet Class Observer

There is no shortage of exotic creatures in the Nantahala National Forest; this one perched on the mica lampshade and watched me dance. I tried looking it up in our insect book, but no luck. It was completely white (teenager wondered whether insects could also be albino), with lacy, gossamer wings, and black eyes. It moved on when class was finished….

Old Edwards Inn Wine Garden

A little later in the afternoon, husband and I decided to do some window shopping (and actual shopping) in town. As we walked down Main, the Old Edwards Inn Wine Garden beckoned, so we stopped in for a glass of chardonnay and an appetizer. It felt self-indulgent, but was enchanting.

Ristorante Paoletti Storefront

Whilst sipping chardonnay, I stood up to shoot a picture of Paoletti’s, perhaps the best restaurant ever, in anticipation of our exotically late-night dinner reservations there (9:30). Paoletti’s is the first place husband and I ever patronized in Highlands; we have made many special memories there, not least of which was the wine cellar tour Arthur Paoletti himself gave us many years ago when he discovered husband shared many of his own tastes in wines.

The Last Hurrah: Waiter Pat and Maitre’ d Rob pose for a late-night picture at Paoletti’s

Thanks, Pat and Rob, and the rest of the staff at Paoletti’s, for another fabulous dinner. ‘Til next time.