To be perfectly honest, I don’t have the energy to come up with a funny hook or witty remark in my current state. I just hosted the second Zoom meeting I’ve ever had, and talking at or to people exhausts me. Forgive me for my poor time management, Ms. French. I’m going to follow my usual structure (commute, experience, exit and reflection), but with a slight twist: I’ll break down my thoughts on each of the four (six? Was the sequencing defined by music style?) performances individually and then give my overall take. Let’s get into this.
The commute was nothing unusual, to be quite frank. I do normally venture out into the city once a month or so..because that’s what normal people do…, so the SIR and ferry ride kind of blurred together. I did manage to meet someone from our class, which was nice and briefly woke me up from my tired Sunday slumber. As per usual, I wounded up being multiple hours early, so…I did a normal person thing and rode around on the 3 train that was going via the 1 line for some reason. I barely made it back in time to Chelsea to go to the theater, and ended up having to walk in the rain. I wound up going inside and somehow almost getting lost in the theater, which, for some reason, has a reception room smaller than my closet. I stood around, confused, but eventually waddled my way outside, where everyone appeared out of what seemed like thin air. After a grueling 10 minutes of waiting out in London weather, we went inside and then proceeded to wait a half hour, in which time I checked my phone no fewer than 12 times. To be honest, I didn’t care much for being sat (sit? sitten??) in the second row right in front of the stage, as, throughout the show, I ended up having to constantly raise my neck and stare up like a stairway to heaven just appeared before my very eyes. On my thirteenth-fifteenth time looking at my phone, everything around me darkened and the show began.
The first show, at least in my eyes, was a quintessential European-style ballet in which men danced with women and vice versa. Not much was left to be desired in its wake, as the bar was low and there’s very little you can ask of a “generic” ballet performance. The music was the blandest thing I ever heard, even when I appreciate classical music regularly. (especially Beethoven and Tchaikovsky) I mean that with no disrespect to the writers or any musicians involved, I just genuinely could barely sit through the music without snoozing. The ballet itself was pretty impressive, but there was nothing that stood out to me. It followed the conventions of everything I thought was ballet, and I think every single dancer was pretty solid.
The second performance. Yes, that one. What was I even looking at? I still don’t know. I didn’t even try to process it afterwards, just because it was so contradictory to every other performance that it resulted in an aneurysm every time it crossed my mind. It sounded like if cavemen were brought back and then given 40 kilograms of Adderall. I had to stare down the paper I was given upon my entrance for no less than half of it, just out of sheer embarrassment and out of a need to keep myself from giggling like a toddler who just chewed on a crayon. If I had to provide any thoughtful analysis, it would be that it was purposely placed to succeed the most typical, Victorian era ballet before it immediately blew up all standard conventions about said ballet. It felt a lot less authentic than anything I’d ever seen, and it reminded me of a kind of drunken, raw state that completely removes any filters people may have. Also, I feel bad for that giant violin for being played like a set of juxtaposed rubber bands.
I honestly really liked the third performance, and I have no clue why. It did not speak to me and barely kept me from leaving the room out of confusion and a complete loss of critical thought following what preceded it. It reminded me of something more out of Disney except perhaps a little dicier or suggestive. The coloring was amazing, however, and the choreography was still excellent. I can’t opine much on the third “segment” or performance, as…I just liked it. It was calming, and even if a little too graphic at times, still let me stay in that chair after the preceding torrent of zoo animal noises.
Now, initially, I liked the third performance more than the fourth, just because the fourth felt incredibly drawn out. However, after deep consideration, I regret to inform you that I have changed my mind and will be moving forward with another candidate at this time. (Internship applications are getting to me, sorry). I found the choreography (dozenth time I’m using that word at this point, sorry for the redundancy) to be something truly remarkable, and the core strength of everyone involved really shined through in this performance. I never truly appreciated how much preparation went into this or any other dance performance until I saw the amount of strength certain dancers had; it was, honestly, something out of this world. The music itself was something to be enjoyed, just because it was so different from whatever I listen to on Spotify as I try to get through my homework. My point that it was long, regardless of how good the music and coordination was, still stands. The concluding part of the section in particular barely let me stay in my chair, and it felt quite repetitive. In spite of that, I can confidently say that I liked the fourth segment the most, just because it showcased what the dancers were best at.
Overall? I’m still confused as to why so many contrasting styles were meshed together in this Austria-Hungary-esque amalgamation of performances. Maybe the point that the director(s) were trying to prove is that art can manifest itself in countless different ways, and that it can’t fit into a single binary. Or they were just trying to keep the audience awake. (In that regard, they certainly succeeded) After the show concluded, I went outside and waited for no apparent reason with a bunch of my peers before marching to the 1-2-3 subway station. I somehow had the energy to constantly gaze out of the window of a moving train after all of that, even if there was nothing besides tunnels, stations, and the occasional street jester juggling rats. The ferry back was unremarkable, and I ended up gouging down on some chips. That’s it. I barely remember it to be honest, just because I was so dazed after being trapped in a dark room listening to possibly ai generated classical, noises from 28,000 BC, Disney but slightly more suggestive, and Near Eastern folk music. It was not worth a rainy Sunday, but you have to work with what you have at some point.
I unfortunately took no pictures besides the 3 train I rode back and forth to City College on beforehand; enjoy. You know I was there.
Also, why did they move back and forth and keep bowing like a group of nutcrackers at the end? Were they trying to farm applause? With that core strength, they may actually deserve it
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