One Inch of Art for a Week

In October, my neighbor and I went on an open studio tour in our neighborhood.  At one studio, the nice woman gave us both a handful of 1” squares and encouraged us to try to find the time to make 1” of art.  Miraculously (or maybe she knew exactly how many squares she was handing us) I wound up with seven squares.  I resolved to set aside a time to make one inch of art for a week, as a tribute to my artist friend, MaryBeth Leonard.

A few years ago, MaryBeth created a project for herself she called “A Drawing a Day for a Year.”  She catalogued all of her drawings on a blog and even wrote great descriptions and stories about each drawing.

Those little squares sat in a pile on my hutch for five-ish months. I looked at them every day.  Eventually, they began to turn into clutter, and I decided that it was time to act.

The first thing that I did was set out all of the squares on a sheet of paper and tape them down.  There were all sorts of fun colors and deciding on an order and a pattern gave the project a defined scope that made me comfortable.

Next, I decided to choose one medium for all of it.  Instead of colored pencils or markers or crayons, I decided to use my collection of teeny nail polishes.  Sort-of weird, but also sort-of artsy.  I like the dimension that you can create with nail polish, I had a bunch of different colors, and it would be a challenging medium.  I would use the bottle brushes and a toothpick to apply the paint.

Another interesting component of using nail polish was the patience factor.  I learned this lesson the hard way when I tried to add different colors without letting the first step dry. Once I figured that bit out, it was a nice part of the process to step away from the work for a few minutes at a time.

I left the whole project sitting out on the dining table all week so that I wouldn’t forget.  I liked not having to set up my art supplies to get to work on my project, but I don’t like having stuff just sitting out all the time.  Obviously, this is why serious artists have studios.

Here are the results of my inch of art experiment.  Maybe I’ll stick with writing.

Lyric Voices

Last Saturday we saw program 5 of San Francisco Ballet’s 2019 season, Lyric Voices.  It was a mixed bill of new work, two ballets that came out of the 2018 season’s new works festival and one brand new piece.

The entire program was very good.  The pieces were complimentary but not derivative and none of them were too long (thankfully!).  This is the kind of dancing that San Francisco Ballet excels at, the dancers are confident and energetic in these kinds of pieces.  There was a lightness and energy to the way that the dancers executed the interesting and appropriate movement vocabulary.

Your Flesh Shall Be a Great Poem

The first piece, which premiered in the new works festival last spring, was Your Flesh Shall Be a Great Poem by Trey McIntyre.  The piece was inspired by a photo of a grandfather who he never knew and dealt with themes of loss and longing for connection.

The movement had a lightness, an airiness to it.  McIntyre used a clean, classical movement vocabulary that brought to my mind Balanchine’s mid-twentieth century, neoclassical ballets.

Four of the six movements of the piece very obviously supported the narrative.  I have not been able to decipher the literal meaning of other two movements, one of which was my most favorite dance in the piece.  It was a pas de trois featured Sasha De Sola, Jennifer Stahl, and one of the male dancers who was not the grandfather character.  It was just gorgeous.  For some reason, I am stuck on an idea that Sasha and Jennifer were fireflies.  Whatever they were, their dancing was powerful, clean, and warm.

I will look forward to seeing this piece again and hope to see more work by Trey McIntyre in San Francisco Ballet’s repertoire. 

Bound To

The second piece was Christopher Wheeldon’s contribution to the 2018 new works festival, titled Bound To.  The concept for this piece is the way in which we, as a society, are “bound to” technology and disconnected from the people around us.

In the opening movement, the dancers are all mesmerized by their cellphones.  When they do interact, at least one of the dancers is completely distracted.  The piece then transitions into a series of movements in which the dancers do not have their devices; however, their interactions are still somewhat distant, as if they no longer know how to connect with other people.  In the final solo of the series, this dude loses it.  Everyone goes back to their phones and leave him for dead.

I found myself wondering how this work will stand the test of time.  Will it be something that anyone will want to stage in 20 years?  Will it be “of its time” in a good way?

“…two united in a single soul…”

The title of Yuri Possokhov’s world premiere comes from a line in Metamorphoses by Ovid pertaining to the Greek myth of Narcissus (book III).  The idea of reflection was explored in virtually every element of the piece and was strongly established by the memorable opening scene in which the orientation and direction of each dancer created a powerful hall-of-mirrors effect.

This ballet was gorgeous.  All of the elements were interesting and unexpected – the set, the music, the costumes, and the dancing.

The minimalist set elements were well utilized throughout the work but my favorite effect was at the end of the work.  A black-and-white camouflage pattern projected on the floor reflects the image of a skull on the massive metallic teardrop upstage center.  That moment was a particularly eerie, powerful, and clever use of the scenic elements.

Daria Novo’s musical composition included several arias by Handel sung by a countertenor (the highest male singing voice) and music by Handel was combined with electronic effects throughout.  The singer, Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen, appeared onstage and interacted with the dancers.  I thought this was a fantastic and effective way to combine operatic singing with dance.  He symbolized another facet of Narcissus.  It was like the singer was telling the story as the dancer showed it.

A great night at the ballet was had by all.

My Midlife Cabaret

Calm down!  This post is not about my midlife cabaret.  I promise that I am going to stick to only singing in the car with the stereo turned up all the way (I don’t want to hear my singing either).

No, this is about a one-woman show that a friend of mine invited me to.  His friend from college had written/produced/was starring in it.  He knows that I am always up for an adventure and that I love interesting theatre. When he brought it up, I enthusiastically said “yes!” immediately.  What was there to consider?  A one-woman show in a performance space above a bar in North Hollywood on a Sunday night?  I am hard-pressed to come up with a reason to ever go to the valley, but Juliet Fischer-Schulein’s My Midlife Cabaret certainly was one.

Getting there was surprisingly reasonable (getting anywhere in LA in under 30 minutes is always a surprise).  We found our seats (right up front and center) and settled in.  I quickly realized that I was probably the only person in the place who didn’t actually know Juliet.  Everyone who did (basically everyone else there) was so nice which was great reflection on her, and I was looking forward to getting to meet her after the show.

The pianist and drummer took their places on the teeny, tiny stage.  The first thought that flashed through my mind was the poetry reading scene from So I Married An Axe Murderer (don’t you just love that movie?).  How great would it be if this show was all beat-style poetry and chain smoking?  It wasn’t of course, this was a cabaret after all.

Well, I certainly didn’t have to wait until after the show to get to know a whole lot about Juliet. She was a Rockette!  She got in trouble for kicking too high.  She had this whole wonderful life in her twenties performing on Broadway in A-list musicals.  And then she met her now-husband, fell in love, and decided to give up her career for happily-ever-after suburban life behind the orange curtain.

She was very open about the not-a-Hallmark-movie parts of her life that led her to create this show.  We’re around the same age and I could totally relate to what she was talking about (except for the part about having kids – I never fell for that trick).  Much in the way that she lost herself to her mommy-life in her thirties, I lost myself to my work-life during those years.

#midlifecrisis, #cliché, #trueanyway

I was just so proud of her.  For being so talented and disciplined, for keeping herself in great shape (she would have gotten in trouble for kicking too high if the Rockettes police had been there), for creating this whole show herself, and for being so open and brave to talk about things that are really hard for people to admit.

Today, if someone asked me how I knew Juliet, I would tell them that had seen her show and that she is my sister.  I’m so excited that she has rediscovered her creative voice and look forward to hearing what else she has to say (or sing).  I would like to thank her for inspiring and encouraging me to continue working on my creative path without even knowing it.

Here’s a short YouTube video about the show.

Wendy Whelan, Associate Artistic Director, NYCB

Something happened recently that I think is very exciting – Wendy Whelan was hired as associate artistic director of New York City Ballet (NYCB). Together with Artistic Director Jonathan Stafford, she will be helming the country’s largest ballet company as it emerges from years of scandal following #METOO allegations of misconduct by former AD Peter Martins as well as several male dancers.

You might be saying, “yes, but she is only the associate artistic director, big whoop,” or asking, as the New York Times did, “if the AD job is too big for one person, why not make Whelan and Stafford co-artistic directors?” Fair enough.

Research shows that women are often appointed to C-level roles at organizations in crisis. But not because women are deemed the most qualified to turn things around. The underlying attitude with these appointments seems to be, “well things are already a mess.” It has also been demonstrated that women are judged more critically than their male counterparts for their performance and given less credit for creating positive outcomes.

I think that what NYCB is doing here is a really interesting way to avoid this paradigm. The position that they created for Whelan has clearly defined responsibilities focused around her sweet spot – programming and dancer development.  They are elevating her to a leadership role in which she is likely to be successful, not just to serve as a female figurehead or sacrificial lamb.

Wendy Whelan’s Career

Whelan is one of my all-time favorite ballerinas. Seeing her perform Agon when I was in college was such a formative moment – the way that she attacked the movement, the way that you could see the power radiating from her. From then on, I strove to infuse my dancing with that kind of fearlessness and energy.

As an artist, she was fierce and precisely technical. Her lines were always correct, and she owned the stage. I saw her and Craig Hall perform After the Rain by Christopher Wheeldon at USC on March 24, 2011. I had seen this piece before in San Francisco, with Yuan Yuan Tan performing, and had a very vivid memory of the work. For a few minutes, I thought I may have been mistaken, it looked like a different piece. It was Whelan’s clean lines and exacting positions. I was blown away!

She retired from NYCB in 2014 after a 30-year career. I watched the snippets of her farewell concert on the internet, disappointed that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to see her dance in person again. Fortunately for me, retirement was the beginning of her career as a modern dancer, and I was able to see her in 2015 and 2017 here in Southern California.

New York City Ballet Leadership

New York City Ballet has a long and storied history. Founded in 1948 by George Balanchine and Lincoln Kirstein, Balanchine served as artistic director (and force of nature) until his death in 1983. Jerome Robbins, who had been assistant artistic director since 1948 and Peter Martins then assumed the roles of co-ballet masters in chief. When Robbins retired in 1990, Martins was solely in charge of the company until 2009, when NYBC created an executive director position to oversee the administrative functions of the company. Martins continued to run the company from an artistic perspective until 2018.

I see Whelan’s appointment as the board’s way of signaling an earnest endeavor to change the culture. Beyond her esteemed 30-year career as a ballerina, she has pursued innovative artistic paths and actively worked to cultivate young talent. I am optimistic that the organization will give her the resources and support required and that she will have a significant and lasting impact on the dance cannon beyond her career as a performer.

In Space & Time

In this installment of Ballet Season 2019, I will tell you about San Francisco Ballet program 3, In Space & Time.  This was a mixed bill of three works, one neoclassical, one narrative, and one classical.

The Fifth Season

The first piece was The Fifth Season (2006), choreographed by SF Ballet artistic director Helgi Tomasson.  Helgi discovered the music of composer Karl Jenkins in 2005 and was inspired to create a ballet using it.  This piece features six movements with six principal dancers in different combinations and a small corps de ballet of eight dancers.  The partnering is for the most part interesting and innovative.  Some of the movements are interpretations of traditional ballroom dances such as the waltz and the tango which I really enjoyed.

The highlight of this piece was seeing our favorite prima ballerina, Yuan Yuan Tan on stage.  I don’t think that we saw her at all last season.  The other leading ladies in this piece, Wona Park (a soloist) and Mathilde Froustey held their own next to Yuan Yuan, an impressive accomplishment.

Snowblind

Next in the program was a success from last season’s new works festival, Snowblind (2018).  Choreographer Cathy Marston used Edith Wharton’s novella Ethan Frome as the plot for this narrative work.  I’m not familiar with the source material and I didn’t find the any of the characters particularly sympathetic, but Cathy was a very efficient storyteller.  She presented well developed characters and a compelling dramatic arc in a short period of time.  Her innovative use pantomime and the corps de ballet was highly effective in furthering the plot and enhancing the drama.  My favorite element was the way that she turned the corps de ballet into a blizzard.  They were fast, unpredictable, and instantly recognizable as a natural phenomenon.  Think Waltz of the Snowflakes from the Nutcracker only dangerous and menacing. 

Etudes

Etudes (1948), by Royal Danish ballet choreographer Harald Lander closed the evening.  This is what I would describe as a very academic ballet.  The piece is based on the structure of a ballet class, beginning at the barre and progressing through all of the exercises in a traditional class.  These days it can be really refreshing to see a ballet that uses the traditional dance vocabulary so explicitly.

The Danish ballet style is very upright, athletic, and precise, but effortless and light at the same time. These qualities are not the strengths of the San Francisco ballet and I felt that the dancing lacked the sparkle that would have made such a literal ballet demonstration truly successful.

There were bright points in the performance.  I was tickled by the extensive mazurka variation that even included a brief czardas solo.  This is the kind of thing that you are only going to see in the Danish style.  But by far, the highlight of the piece was my beloved Aaron Robinson who again demonstrated that he is the only member of the San Francisco ballet who can actually leap.

It was a fun night out but not a can’t miss program.

Merce Cunningham, Part II

I recently made a trek to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) with a couple of friends for a day of culture and artistic inspiration.  My ulterior motive for our little excursion was to see a special video installation of Merce Cunningham’s work.  The exhibit is called Merce Cunningham, Clouds and Screens and is on display through March 31, 2019.

Last week’s post focused on Merce Cunningham’s background and artistic legacy.  Today I will tell you about the exhibit at LACMA.

Merce Cunningham, Clouds and Screens consisted of two installations and two video projections.  It was housed on the first floor of the Broad Contemporary Art Museum building at LACMA.

In the foyer was a work called Silver Clouds by Andy Warhol and Billy Klüver .  The label explained that the silver mylar “pillows” were originally a work exhibited by Andy Warhol in 1966.  Cunningham approached Warhol about adapting the work as the scenic elements of his dance, Rainforest (1968).  It was a fun, interactive way to begin to experience the exhibit.

Next, we spent a few minutes watching a piece called Changeling (1957) that was being projected in an adjacent gallery.  It was a great illustration of the way that Cunningham would use random chance to create movements.  The way that movements of the head, torso, arms, and legs were combined randomly created very complex and unnatural feeling movements.

After watching Changeling briefly, we were ready to enter the main exhibit, Charles Atlas’s installation, MC⁹ (2012).  Well, as ready as we were going to be.  It was a fantastic sensory immersion.  There was so much to look at.  It took a while to realize that there wasn’t any specific order or right way to experience it.  One great aspect of the installation was that if there was something that you missed or wanted to spend more time watching, it would likely be coming up on another screen in the gallery sometime soon.

The installation consisted of a black box room with nine 8’x12’ double-sided projection screens (get it, nine screens, wink, wink) at various heights and on various angles throughout the space.  Interspersed among the projection screens were a number of smallish (36” to 48”) monitors.  The screens and monitors showed seemingly random clips of various Merce Cunningham Dance Company (MCDC) performances and Cunningham himself performing.  A clip may be on one or both sides of one of the large screens, on a small monitor next to it, and on another screen on the other side of the exhibit simultaneously.  One of the gallery attendants who I spoke to said that the entire piece is a loop that runs for more than an hour.

We spent nearly an hour walking around the space, experiencing the exhibit from different perspectives.  Eventually, I let go of my obsessive desire to try to determine some sort of pattern in the way that the clips were shown on various screens at certain times.  I’m not convinced that it was completely random, but whatever pattern existed was complicated enough that it would have taken more time than I was willing to devote to deciphering it.  It was enough to step back and just let the experience happen.

In general, I find the concept of random chance in the creation of artwork fascinating.  It is one of those things that does not discard technique and virtuosity.  Randomness does not mean that the elements are not carefully considered and created.  In some ways, I would think that the component elements of a work would need to be more precisely crafted.  Cunningham was certainly a pioneer in applying this methodology to creating dance.  The only contemporary choreographer who I am aware of who is currently working in a similar milieu is Bill T. Jones.  I hope that there are others.

Merce Cunningham

I recently made a trek to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) with a couple of friends for a day of culture and artistic inspiration.  My ulterior motive for our little excursion was to see a special video installation of Merce Cunningham’s work.  The exhibit is called Merce Cunningham, Clouds and Screens and is on display through March 31, 2019.

I find Merce Cunningham fascinating, so this will be a two-part post.  Today will be some background about him and next week’s post will be about the exhibit.

Merce Cunningham (1919-2009) was a mid-20th century, American, modern dance pioneer. 

Growing up, Cunningham studied tap dancing.  This medium emphasizes precise musical timing and rhythm, which would become foundations of his technique.  His first professional dance experience was with the Martha Graham company.  He danced with Graham for six years (1939-1945) before leaving to establish his own dance company, Merce Cunningham Dance Company (MCDC).

A prolific creator, over the course of his 60+ year career, Cunningham created 190-200 dances and 700-800 events.  A Cunningham dance is a stand-alone piece of choreography, which could be recreated.  By contrast, an event is defined as a site/time specific performance.  Mindful of his artistic legacy, he established the Merce Cunningham Trust in 2000 to hold and administer the rights to his works after his death.

His work is known for innovative use of collaboration, chance, perspective, and technology.

Collaboration

Cunningham’s most enduring collaboration was with his partner, composer John Cage.  The two presented their first collaborative performance in 1944 and continued to work together until Cage’s death in 1992.  As collaborators, they provocatively asserted that dance and music should not intentionally be coordinated.  This is a radical departure from dance convention.

Cunningham’s collaborations with visual artists included Robert Rauchenberg (MCDC resident designer 1954-1964), Jasper Johns (MCDC artistic advisor 1967-1980), Rei Kawakubo, Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol, and filmmaker Charles Atlas.

Chance

To me this is the most fascinating and innovative facet of Cunningham’s work.  Cunningham and Cage became interested in the concept of chance in the 1950’s when a translation of the ancient Chinese text, I Ching was published in the U.S.  They began using stochastic operation (random chance) to determine musical composition and dance movements. 

Stochastic operation was employed by Cunningham in a number of different ways.  It could be used to create steps, to determine the sequence of steps, and/or even the number/composition of performers.

In order to create steps, Cunningham divided the body into parts – head, arms, torso, legs.  He would generate lists of all possible movements for each part, then use random chance to determine the movement of each part in order to create a step.  This created choreography that was often exceedingly difficult to execute.

Often sequences and dancers would not be determined until just before the performance.  Further, this was all done without regard to the music, which would be determined by its own chance procedure. 

As someone who likes to plan and prepare, this concept is mind-boggling and maybe slightly terrifying.  However, as someone who has had the opportunity to experience performances structured by this method, I find it an amazing opportunity to create great art.

Perspective

Cunningham discarded the conventions of proscenium orientation.  Work could occur on any part of the stage, oriented in any direction (not necessarily front) at any point.

Technology

The most long-reaching facet of Cunningham’s work may be his pioneering use of technology in dance – video in the 1970s and computers beginning in the 1980s.  I believe that one key reason that he was able to so successfully translate his work to the video medium is his abandonment of proscenium perspective.  Dance that is oriented to and filmed from an exclusively front-facing perspective tends to lack dimension to the viewer.  By abandoning this convention, he enabled the camera and by proxy, the viewer, to become a part of the movement.

He was an early adopted of a computer program, DanceForms which enabled him to create choreography via computer that would later be translated onto living dancers.

Cunningham viewed randomness as a positive, naturally occurring quality.  I find his dedication to the concept of chance both contradictory and inspiring.  He very consciously committed to developing and cultivating a level of virtuosity that would allow his dancers to execute movement that however randomly generated had begun as a very specific and defined idea.  In his work the movement stands alone, it does not represent a narrative or ideas such as emotions.  He was very self-consciously trying to avoid imposing his own biases upon his work. 

Next week, part II of this post will talk about the exhibit, Merce Cunningham, Clouds and Screens.

Don Quixote

San Francisco Ballet, Program 1: Don Quixote

It’s Ballet Season 2019!  Time to dust off something cute to wear and wing up to San Francisco for a fun night out with mom and sister.  This is our 14th year of having season tickets to the San Francisco Ballet, which seems substantial until you learn that Robbie and Gail who sit in front of us have had their season tickets for over 40 years!  Apparently, it’s the kind of tradition with staying power.

San Francisco Ballet opened their 2019 season with Don Quixote, the rom-com of the classical ballet cannon.  It is silly and corny, and it knows that it’s camp.  At the same time, the Spanish flavor lends a bit of flair to the performances.  It’s like Diana Vreeland would say, “a little bad taste is like a nice splash of paprika.”

Don Quixote premiered in 1869 with music by Ludwig Minkus and choreography by Marius Petipa.  Modern productions retain the Minkus score; however, the choreography is derived from Alexander Gorsky’s 1900 update of Petipa’s original.  The San Francisco Ballet version, staged by Helgi Tomasson and Yuri Possokhov, premiered in 2003.

The libretto is based on two chapters from Cervantes.  The story begins with Don Quixote dreaming of his beloved Dulcenea and resolving to go on a quest to find her.  From there the story transitions to a town where the inn-keeper’s daughter, Kitri, is rendezvousing with her beloved Basilo, the town barber.  Conflict arises because Kitri’s father wants to betroth her to a rich nobleman.  Soon Don Quixote and Sancho Panza arrive in town to exacerbate the shenanigans.  After much hijinks, including a gypsy camp, tilting at windmills, and hallucinatory driads, Kitri and Basilo are allowed to wed and there is much rejoicing.  Let’s just say that the plot of a romantic ballet is only there to give the illusion of a structure for a bunch of dancing.

The performance that we saw featured Sasha de Sola as Kitri and Aaron Robison as Basilo.  Sasha has been with San Francisco Ballet since 2007 and was promoted to principal dancer in 2017.  I don’t think that we had seen her in the lead of an evening-length story ballet before and I was very pleased with her performance.  She is a stunning, petite blonde with big blue eyes and a radiant smile.  Sasha studied at the Kirov Academy, formerly the Russian Imperial Academy, and her Russian training is evident in her precise technique.  Her Kitri was athletic and joyful.  She wasn’t as sassy as some Kitris, but she didn’t need to be, it wouldn’t have suited her.

There is a ballet term, “ballon” which refers to the illusion that a leaping dancer floats through the air momentarily.  In general, I don’t find San Francisco Ballet dancers possess much ballon; they tend to telegraph the effort of take-off and you hear every ounce of them land. 

The role of Basilo is known for its many virtuosic leaps which Mikhail Baryshnikov immortalized with his ability to appear to actually fly. Aaron also executed these leaps in a powerful-yet-effortless manner and landed every one of them silently.  He managed to be elegantly graceful and cool at the same time, even during the more comic scenes. Aaron first performed with San Francisco Ballet during the 2016 season and returned in 2018.  I hope that he is here to stay.

Now, I can’t neglect to tell you about the real star of the show, Oreo the pony.  Oreo played the part of Sancho Panza’s donkey, Dapple.  The horse who played Don Quixote’s Rocinante was an elegant white gelding.  But Oreo is this adorable, dark-brown, fuzzy pony with a huge, unruly blonde forelock, mane, and tail.  Yes, there is a horse and a donkey in this ballet, why wouldn’t there be?  How would the Don and Sancho make their dramatic entrance without them?

Ballet Season 2019 is off to an auspicious start.  More to come!

1,000 Books to Read…or Not

book stack

I was trolling amazon and came across this book called 1,000 Books to Read Before You Die

My first thought was, “Ugh, what a terrible idea!”  I don’t want someone telling me what I should be reading, I can’t even get around to all of what I want to be reading myself. To me, this book is setting you up to feel like a failure.

It gave me an idea.  I thought, “What are the books that I would tell someone that they have to read?”  But you know that I don’t like to be dogmatic, and we all read for different reasons.  That led me to ask myself, “What do I endeavor to get out of my reading?”

For the past few years, I have been very interested in histories and biographies.  Last year, my reading list had a theme: biographies about interesting historical women written by women.  Female authors are certainly not more sympathetic to the women they are writing about, but there is a subtle difference in perspective that, to me, informs their subjects in a more complete way.

Histories and biographies really illuminate the world for me.  Things that are happening today make more sense to me with a historic point of reference.  One book that I’m just finishing now is a collection of scholarly essays about the aerospace industry in Southern California.  It was amazing to read, like someone just said, “Hi, let me tell you why Southern California is the way it is.”  The impact that this industry had on the place where I live is enormous and omnipresent.

I think that is what I’m looking to get out of books that I read: some sort of frame of reference that can illuminate the world that I live in in some way.

Here are four books that I have read recently that you might be interested in (I went for a variety): 

  1. The Quartet by Jim Ellis.  A friend who shares my love of history recommended this book.  It is a terrifically insightful read about the political horse-trading that was integral to the creation and adoption of the US Constitution.
  2. The Discovery of Witches series by Deborah Harkness.  I really don’t read novels much anymore, but I couldn’t put these books down.  Deb Harkness is a history professor, so her historical fantasy stories are infused with so much rich historical detail, they are delicious.  Just make sure that you don’t need to do anything for a few days if you decide to pick these up; you won’t be able to stop until you’ve finished the last one.
  3. Of course, a biography of an interesting historical woman: Cleopatra by Stacy Schiff.  Let’s just say that men have been trying to erase powerful women from history for a long time.  And the fact that despite that, the historical record of Cleopatra’s power is undeniable.  What an interesting time! 
  4. And last, but not least, The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga by C.G. Jung.  I didn’t study psychology in college, so I am not familiar with Jung, but I find his concept of the collective unconscious fascinating.  As someone with limited but profound exposure to Kundalini yoga, I was very interested to delve into the deeper meanings of the various chakras, especially from a Western perspective.

This year, I’m just trying to clean up the “to read” pile.  My hope is to eliminate the stockpile and transition to using the public library instead of the “buy it now” button on Amazon.  Keeping the books from piling gets tiresome but I am committed to reading books printed on paper, I love the low-tech-ness of it.  If you’re local and you’re looking for something to read, hit me up, I’d love to pass something along.

Anything that you have read recently that you would suggest I add to my list?

Pointe Shoes

After my World Ballet Day post, one of my dedicated subscribers mentioned that she thought that the video of the ballerina prepping her pointe shoe video was very interesting and wanted to learn more. So today, I will attempt to briefly explain pointe shoes.

A ballet slipper is a soft shoe worn by all ballet dancers.  This type of shoe has a flexible, soft sole and is secured to the foot with one or more elastic straps.  Ballet slippers can be made of leather, canvas, or satin and are usually a flesh-colored pink (ballet pink) or black.

A pointe shoe is generally only worn by grown ballerinas.   It is the same sort of shape as a ballet slipper with small but significant differences.  First is a rigid toe box that is flat on the end.  This is the “point” that the ballerina dances on. The box is made from layers of paper and/or fabric that are stiffened with glue.  The shank of a pointe shoe functions to stiffen the sole and provides support to the arch of the foot when on pointe.  The shank can be made from layers of burlap, cardstock, or leather that is again hardened with glue.  A pointe shoe is secured to the foot with satin ribbons. 

One important part of both ballet slippers and pointe shoes is the vamp.  Both types of shoes will have a vamp that is high enough to cover the metatarsal phalangeal joints (where your toes meet your foot).  This provides important support to those joints which is particularly important for dancing on pointe.

The shape of the toe box and the hardness of the box and the shank vary among brands and models of pointe shoes.  One brand, Freed, has each shoe marked by the shoemaker as there can be variations that certain dancers prefer.  I never wore Freeds, but on more than one occasion I did witness a gal trying to find two shoes in her size from her preferred maker at the dancewear store (it was a big deal).

During my years of dancing on pointe, the brand and style of shoe I preferred evolved.  I began with the Capezio Contempora, which has a tapered toe box with a long, V-shaped vamp and a firm shank.  I have a very high arch, so the long vamp and the firm shank supported my foot well. 

Eventually, I switched to the Chacott Coppelia II, which were made in Spain.  I can’t remember why that was such a big deal, but I do remember that it mattered.  The Coppelia II was similar to the Contempora, but the big difference that made me switch was that it had a flatter toe box.  This meant that my toes were more constricted in the shoe which meant less rubbing (that is a good thing).

My last pointe shoes were Chacott Veronese, which are made in Japan.  The Veronese are more lightweight; they have a shorter, more square-shaped toe box with a firm shank.  By that point in my life as a dancer, my feet were very strong, but I was starting to feel the years of wear-and-tear.  The lighter box took a lot of pressure off of my metatarsal phalange joints, particularly on my big and pinky toes.

Anabel thinks pointe shoes are interesting too.

And that is a brief discourse on pointe shoes.  Let me know if you would like me to do another post in the future to talk about how ballerinas prepare their pointe shoes.

By the way, get excited – Ballet Season is almost here!