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Choreographer's Diary

by Leigh Witchel

Day 35 - September 14, 1999.
2 days until the performance.

Our last day in the studio. Jellybeans are used today. Again, all the ballets are run, but we turn them away from the mirror, so that the dancers don't use it to stay together. I'm not saying that much today, again mostly in reaction to their nervousness.

Mary to another of the dancers: "I think our motto should be, 'It's just ballet, it's not World Peace!"
Response: "Oh, if only it were World Peace!"

I admit I find this exchange breathtaking. My version of the same is when a dancer said "I'm afraid I'm going to hit the chairs when I turn." I reply simply, "Then don't." It's better advice than it's taken for. A lot of the nerves are self-manufactured and unnecessary. One of the dancers nearly injured her heel when she stamped on the floor in a fit of temper because she
was sick of the hardness and slipperiness of the floor. Even with all the nerves, the ballets all look in shape to go into the theater.

More and more time is taken up on errands, with Mary and I running to Capezio to pick up shoes, tights, rosin and other sundries for the performance after rehearsal.

I head to the theater after rehearsal where Jeff is loading in, and Matt is constructing the sets. There isn't all that much for me to do there except check in. Matt's set for Scherzo looks ominously small, the sculpture of picture frames ("I was possessed by the spirit of Louise Nevelson.") takes up too little of the stage area, and reminds me more of the Stonehenge sculpture from Spinal Tap. The Armature set has the same problem of scale, the ropes he uses are too thin, and don't read from the audience. Matt knows all this already and asks me for more money to buy rope. I try to remember that Matt's process tends to be absolutely last minute. Jeff and I go to the impound lot on the Hudson River to release his car at 11 pm, after having been towed, and I return home to find my hard drive has in all likelihood crashed. I avoid the issue by going out to see Shasta (see Day 29) perform at midnight. The current Time Out has been delivered tonewsstands, and I go to look at it. Gia Kourlas' article is about 3 times the length I thought it would be and about as flattering as it could have been if I hadn't written it myself (perhaps more so.) I float all the way to Barracuda to watch Shasta lip synch Madonna.

Day 36