Ranting Details

Bolero NYC

Here are a few shots I did of Larry Keigwin's "Bolero NYC" at the Joyce! 

Dancing in the Woods

Here are a few shots from the performance of Avi Scher and Dancers that took place this past weekend at Jacob's Pillow!  More photos coming soon!

(Elysia Dawn)


(Abi Stafford and David Prottas)

(Alexsandra Meijer)

(Abi Stafford)

(Jared Angle and Alexsandra Meijer)

(Nancy Richer)

(Christian Tworzyanski and Melissa Hough)

Avi's Pillow

I had the pleasure of traveling to Jacob's Pillow yesterday for the first time to photograph Avi Scher and Dancers for a program called "Inside/Out."  Unfortunately, due to weather, the dancers were forced to perform in a studio (when they were supposed to be on the glorious stage you see in the last picture), but that didn't stop us from running out between downpours to snap a few shots! 

Jumping Keigwins

Let me put it in plain and simple terms: Keigwin and Co. are fierce, fierce, fierce.  Buy your tickets now and witness the fantastic new piece, Triptych, currently playing at the Joyce! 

Triptych: Triptych

Larry Keigwin's Company is just days away from the beginning of their 2009 Joyce Season, which means you still have time to buy your tickets!  I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek of the program (which includes his fantastic Bolero, Natural Selection, and Love Songs, as well as a world premiere of a piece called....Triptych, a word you Ranters know I have more than a passing familiarity with) and I can officially say that Keigwin and Co. are gonna blow the roof off the Joyce.  The dancers look stronger than ever (the new piece is especially hypnotic; an aerobic, technically challenging work), and Larry's choreography continues to evolve in delightful ways.  GRAB YOUR TICKETS NOW!  (More photos soon!)  Here are a few pics from Triptych!

Trey Is So (serious)

During my first year in ABT I was lucky enough to be plucked out of the corps for a featured part in a World Premiere ballet: Trey McIntyre's Pretty Good Year.  Over six grueling weeks of rehearsal I not only had the chance to get to know a completely different vocabulary--one where legs and arms jutted out on unexpected counts and men lifted each other as much as they lifted the women--but I also had the chance to work with a choreographer I'd looked up to for quite some time.  As a fellow graduate of NCSA, Trey McIntyre was always someone I admired.  His patience and dedication to bringing out the best in the cast's young dancers--whom all had very little experience-- made my respect grow. 

Over the years I've encountered Trey on various occasions and I've had the chance to watch several of his pieces performed by companies all over the country.  One thing I hadn't done was photographed his work.  That all changed yesterday when I shot (serious), a piece on the program this week at the Joyce Theater, where the Trey McIntyre Project is making its New York debut. 

I was extremely impressed with the athleticism of the nine dancers that make up this fledgling company.  Fortunately, they all get a chance to shine, none more so than Jason Hartley (another NCSA grad), who devours the stage.  Watching the show last night, after photographing during the day, I was surprised at some key moments I missed in the piece...and others I wouldn't have expected to capture, yet somehow did.  'Tis the reality when shooting choreography you've never seen before, I guess.  Do yourself a favor and don't let the week pass by without seeing the work for yourself.  Just head to Chelsea and grab a ticket! 

(Jason Hartley)

(Brett Perry)

(Chanel DaSilva and Jason Hartley)

(Brett Perry)

(Jason Hartley)

(Jason Hartley and Chanel DaSilva)

(Jason Hartley)

(Chanel DaSilva and Jason Hartley)

(Brett Perry and Jason Hartley)

(Chanel DaSilva, Brett Perry and Jason Hartley)

(Chanel DaSilva and Jason Hartley)

Triptych: Cedar People

(Cedar Lake in rehearsals for their upcoming full-length piece, Orbo Novo.)

Come to the Kabaret

Meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen!  There are only two shows left of the delectable Keigwin Kabaret at Symphony Space, and I promise you don't want to miss out.  For those of you who have been reading my blog over the past three years, it isn't exactly news that Larry is one of my favorite choreographers.  And this show is no exception.  It's a mix of burlesque, modern dance, comedy and so much more.  So if you're looking for something to do tonight or tomorrow, head to Symphony Space and check out the show!  If you're there tonight, you just may see me running around with my camera!  But first: here are some shots I took backstage last week! 

Like Father, Like Son

(This image has absolutely nothing to do with the following post.  And as much as I wish I had taken the photo, for multiple reasons, I am not a photographer for GQ.  Let's just pass this picture off as "artistic inspiration.")

The panic of creation.  This is something I learned about at a young age, when I would awake to find my father sitting in his study, two cups of coffee into the morning before I had even brushed my teeth.  He, being a painter, actor and, when most panic stricken, a director, was always in the throes of some inner conflict that could only be resolved by pacing or tying flies in the garage. 

I’m not a fisher.  But I am most certainly a pacer.  And just like my father, I don’t do my best pacing against wooden floorboards or threads of carpet, I do my best pacing within the curvature of my brain, where the audience is comprised of judges even the Supreme Court would be intimidated by.  I’ve reacquainted myself with these powdered wig-wearing intimidators this week as I’ve taken a step back into something I know well: the dance world.  But despite my familiarity with the art form, a familiarity that dates back to the days I would tour jete into the very kitchen in which my father was brewing his coffee, nothing has ever felt as unknown or terrifying as this journey into my first piece of movement in exactly two years. 

To be honest, I’m not sure how I got here to this moment, brainstorming in my bed late at night while my roommate sleeps mere feet away, just as my mother did while my father scribbled ideas on his yellow, lined notebooks.  Actually, I guess I do know.  I said yes.  I said yes to a request to perform a solo in an evening of theater put on by a friend of my sister’s.  After all of the challenges I’ve faced in the past two years, where I’ve accepted offers to do things I have no training in and have come out relatively unscathed (next up: diving horses!), accepting this offer seemed like a no brainer. 

And then my brain stepped in.  Before it went into overdrive, however, I managed to procure a beautiful, original composition from my friend Nico Muhly, who, in between writing scores for Oscar-nominated movies and sending me pictures of cats, wrote a haunting piece for piano and brass that is beautiful in its simplicity. 

If only I could say the same for the movement I’ve created so far.  Time in the studio has been limited, so my downstairs neighbor has had to deal with the thudding of limbs across the floor of my entryway both when I’m “dancing” and when I’m rolling around, whining on the phone to my parents about my lack of ability.  I should fix the damage to her ceiling.  Or at least send her some flowers. 

But I have bigger things to worry about.  Three days away from the show and I’m contemplating scrapping all I have created and standing on stage in a dance belt with two arrows pointing at my hernias while a giant neon sign flashes the words: “Performance Art,” overhead.  (Somehow, I think Nico would approve.) There have been moments where I’ve wanted to give up. (Somehow, I think Nico would not approve.)  But of all the challenges I have faced in the past two years, this is the one I am most intent on finishing.  This is a moment for myself.  A moment to tackle some of the demons that have flown over, and within, my head every night since my dance career was cut short two years ago today, and a moment to give myself permission to be okay with not living up to every expectation in my brain.  Of course, I want this to a tour-de-force solo, but given the atrophied state of my muscles, I am attempting to give myself credit for simply taking a step back on stage.

To be honest, I have no idea what is going to happen Saturday night.  Actually, I guess I do.  I am going to stand on stage again.  I am going to dance again.  And I am going to be proud, even if I am just standing there in a dance belt beneath neon lights.  It sure beats pacing.  

Picture of the Day: 4/14/09

(Michael Trusnovec in Paul Taylor's "Images")