grey marble

June 23, 2005


A Lincoln Center evening

Last night, Lincoln Center celebrated Gay Pride by hosting the Village People as part of their Midsummer Nights Swing series. A light rain fell on the plaza, but a DJ spun disco tunes as the crowds gathered. Some held umbrellas, some sheltered next to the concert halls.

At seven, dance lessons began. Two men took to the stage to teach the assembled how to dance the hustle. He showed the initial step—rock-step, step, and turn—and then told the crowd to try it. "Men facing the fountain, women back to the fountain," he said, then corrected himself. "Leaders facing the fountain, followers with their backs to the fountain." He demonstrated and watched his students before teaching them how to lead a turn. Midway through that demonstration, the rain started to fall in earnest. The instructor apologized. "I've been told we have to stop because of the rain, but hopefully it'll end and we can continue. Please clear the dance floor."

The DJ took to the stage and kept playing music. People crowded next to the buildings, under the overhangs. They waited. A few people took to the plaza and did the electric slide as the rain began to soften and slow.

I was there for the ballet. The American Ballet Theater was staging a Fokine celebration at the Met and I had wanted to see Petrouchka, never having seen it before. It was ok. I tend not to be a fan of story ballets (with the exception of Giselle, but that might have also had something to do with where and when I saw it). There seemed to be a lot of extraneous action on stage that set a scene, but spent too long setting it. Or maybe I'm just not well versed enough in ballet to appreciate it.

During the second intermission I walked out onto the veranda of the theater. The Village People (if they had performed) had finished their set and the DJ was playing "Dancing Queen." I looked around for someone to dance with; the crowd around me looked to be in their late sixties.

At the end, the ABT performed the Polovtsian Dances from Alexander Borodin's opera Prince Igor, and I experienced my favorite moment of the evening. Dancers were arranged in a tableaux on stage, dressed in hunting gear. From stage left a woman appeared. Her body was not the traditional type for a ballerina and I was curious as to the role she would play. The dancers on stage didn't move. The woman walked a third of the way into the stage and turned to face the audience. Then she opened her mouth and sang.
Posted by eku at June 23, 2005 9:28 AM
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