Backhausdance - Shift

My friend Jenny Backhaus is one of the most amazing choreographers I've ever seen - and I've seen a fair amount of dance, good and bad (and danced a fair amount myself - mostly bad. Speaking of which, my apologies to everyone who ever sat thru a concert where I danced. I lacked perspective at the time).

Last Friday, Jenny's company, Backhausdance, had its premiere at the John Anson Ford Theatre in LA. It was a great crowd and a wonderful program. The center piece, "Shift - Sink/Push/March/Float," is described as: "...a dance in four sections exploring our desire to lift and support each other, both physically and emotionally."

The pas de deux (couple's dance) in the "Push" section literally made me weep.

I find that in so many p-d-d's, the dancers feign cheerful, unabated adoration for one another, or engage in exaggerated romantic pursuits (boy chases girl, girl chases boy, they end up happily ever after, usually with some supported pirouettes). In other, "darker" pieces, the tone may be more somber, yet the mechanics are essentially the same.

In "Push," the relationship is... complex.
The featured dancers, Andrea Brache and William Lu, performed amazing acts of physicality and grace, but more than that, they achieved an extraordinary level of connection as they continuously intertwined to Zoe Keating's rich and languorous score. There were no sequins or flashy costumes; in fact, their simple clothes were flesh-colored, as if to reinforce the naked humanity underlying the piece (the other dancers, who performed in the other 3 sections of "Shift" also were costumed in a muted color palette).

In "Push," the relationship is... real.

This was not a happy-happy, hand-holding-and-skipping-to-the-joys-of-life-and-love piece. No showboating common in conventional p-d-d's ("you do some fouettes, then I'll do a bunch of piros, then we'll each do big jumps, criss-crossing the stage"). Those are fun and lighthearted, but they are fantasy.

Here, Andrea and William danced individually yet continually in relationship to one another. It was so bittersweet to watch the dancers interact -- even dancing as a single unit, there was a sense of their individuality. Connection, disconnection, reconnection, opposition and synchrony.

In "Push," the relationship is... honest.
At points, one physically supported the other, tenderly cradling their head or making it possible for them to continue (including the girl carrying the boy in a prolonged lift). At points the choreography made me think of disassociation - of supporting out of obligation rather from intentional choice - but reciprocity and re-engagement always re-emerged.

For me, "Push" so completely captures our dance through life. There are times we stand alone, yet we are never really alone. At times, we have to prop one another up. Occasionally we're the one who's leaning more heavily, and sometimes we are dragging (pushing?) the other to keep (them or ourselves) going. And sometimes, we have to let go entirely, believing there is someone who will to catch us when we fall.

C's Get Degrees... - Part 2

I shared my story about the student who didn't believe in overexerting himself with a friend who's had a pretty phenomenal career. His response -- "C's may get degrees, but A's get the raise!"

Cool, true, and poetic. See why he's such a success? ;-)

"C's Get Degrees"

I teach part-time at 2 universities. Last semester, I overheard a student in my class say to another, "Don't sweat it -- C's get degrees."

As someone who's admittedly a bit competitive and carries around some deeply ingrained opinions about "settling" when it comes to work and one's work performance, this statement outraged me.

My answer was, "C's may get degrees, but in the work world, C's don't get you promotions." Zing1

I've congratulated myself on being so pithy and self-righteous, but when I've subsequently shared this story with others, I've only gotten the "wow, you were right/what a slacker/way to set 'em straight!" response about 50% of the time.

One of my closest friends -- who happens to have a pretty incredible work ethic himself -- said, "Well, it's true, and it is efficient. Why push for the "A" when the "B" or "C" gets you the same degree when you graduate?"

Okay, so what say you? Should we be pushing ourselves, or being more efficient?

A Thank You Note to My Dogs

Thank you for choosing me.

Thank you for patiently waiting for me, and always showing me how happy you were just about my very existence. Whether I was gone 5 hours or 5 minutes, you always were my Happy Greeting Committee. Welcome back! It’s so great to see you! Life is so much better with you in it. Secondary was always, Hey, did you happen to bring me a treat? Can I smell your breath and see what you ate while you were away from me?

Thank you for listening to me, even when I was giving commands that didn’t make sense to you.

Thank you for always welcoming my belly rub or ear massage. Unlike the cats, you never got up and walked away, shunning my expressions of affection, and you certainly never bit me to show your displeasure.

Thank you for tolerating my amateurish attempts at performing Reiki to heal you. Who knows if it helped or not?

Thank you for eating hundreds of pounds of disgusting dry kibble, and then leaving such convenient little poop packages on the lawn, where they could be easily retrieved and disposed of.

Thank you for always coming running when I called your name.

Thank you for listening to me sing silly make-up songs to you and never judging whether I had talent for either singing or creating lyrics.

Thank you for climbing into my lap and demonstrating what true love, trust, and devotion feel like.

Thank you for allowing me to laugh at you when the groomer made terrible judgment calls with your haircuts.

Thank you for understanding the meaning of the word “ride,” and jumping into the car so you could be harnessed yet again.

Thank you for not digging up my flowers, and for tolerating without complaint when you lived outside in those years when I was young and clueless, or lived with only a measly concrete patio in the years when I was not-so-young and yet still clueless.

Thank you for barking with pure joy when you ran in the park, along the grass, at the beach, at the birds, at the rabbits, or to greet other dogs.

Thanks for keeping me truthful when I told other dog-walkers that you were friendly.

Thank you for curling up with me in bed and for not ripping out my throat while I slept, which I realize you were capable of and chose not to do, every single night.

Thank you for giving me so many funny stories to tell others, allowing me to be better company when socializing.

Thank you for barking ceaselessly and bravely defending me against the possum, squirrels, coyote, delivery people, and other unwelcome intruders.

Thank you for being my model of personal integrity.

Thank you for howling with joy.

Thank you for being my hound, yet always your own dog, every day.