Choreographer's Diary
by Leigh Witchel
Day 6 - Wednesday
8:48 am. A call from
Morgan practically in tears awakens me. I can't really tell what
she's talking about. From the sound of her voice I'm afraid she's
injured, but it's car trouble (she lives and works at least an
hour's drive from the City). Naturally, both of us have our own
personal and self-centered scale for calamity. I tell her to
come to rehearsal if at all possible, and that I understand the
problem. In truth, I want to get her off the phone and get back
to sleep, but I'm glad she's told me, I need to be mentally prepared
for not having a full cast again. It's frustrating, because I've
got 30 hours to make this ballet, 15 have gone by. Her absence
today leaves only two days with a full cast this week and two
more rehearsals left. If I make them next week, I lose Mary to
a pre-arranged absence. I wish I had enough money to have dancers
as employees and be able to insist upon attendance. One of the
compromises I make for dancer quality is to allow them some flexibility
in schedule, but it becomes an awful juggling act, and I never
feel as if I rehearse with a full cast at times like these. I
remind myself there's really nothing I can do about it and try
and catch up on the lost hours of sleep.
Rehearsal
It seems keeping a cool
head paid off. We manage to get a good deal accomplished, even
without Morgan. The first section to be worked on is for Mary,
a more theatrical section incorporating two ideas from the first
day of rehearsal, the "entrapped" phrase I thought
I would discard (although much changed) and a sort of badminton
game where Mary is passed between Adriana and Frances. Mary quickly
figures out the mood I'm looking for (it's heading more and more
towards Tennessee Williams, huge dusty folds of velvet draperies
and creaking shutters) and produces it. I make a legato section
for Frances, because she has good lines, and because she needs
it. She seems intent on showing me correct steps, I make her
an entire section where all I want her to do is "yearn"
- penchées to renversés, all with arms imploring
and importuning. She looks both lovely in it, but thrown, something's
preventing her from dancing with abandon. It will give her something
to work on. Finally, we make the fourth iteration of the main
waltz phrase. Again, I'm trying to bridge the dance effects of
the first repeats of the waltz with the entirely theatrical ones
of the final repeat. So we build on the "imaginary partnering"
in the third phrase, and in the fourth they appear, then vanish.
The trick, of course, is making that clear to the audience. What
excites me is that the dancers catch on to the theatrical effects
almost as quickly as the dance ones. They intrigue them, and
me as well. Going from doing a very pure classical ballet at
Ballet Pacifica less than a week before I began rehearsals for
our concert, I am enjoying making a dance work that relies equally
on dance design and theatrical atmosphere. It's not
something I do frequently, but then again, in almost anything
I do, (choreography, writing, knitting, making dinner. . .) the
next project is almost always something in strong contrast to
the previous. Scherzo Fantastique is no exception. I leave
rehearsal after having a long, enjoyable and illuminating chat
with Mary and Frances. I suggest to Frances she try doing this
ballet almost as if she were "marking" and learn a
bit more about her. She also becomes more comfortable with me,
which should only help the process. Then to work, where I attempt
to arrange for a photographer, deal with the preliminaries for
upcoming mailings, catch up with my designer on production issues
and track down leads on a male dancer.
And do some work.
Day
7