Page 10 - The Michigan Daily - Friday, August 3, 1984
Intro to ballet by Villella
(Continued from Page9)
was not an easy one. The whole thing
sounded great on paper. I would call his
agent, set the whole thing up as a cute
idea-"look at the funny journalist
trying to do a pirouette"-get per-:
mission from Villella, and dance away.
The plan worked perfectly up until
the last step. I was scared to death of
walking out onto the floor amidst a
barrage of matching tights and leotards
in my K-mart shorts, my Walt Disney
sweatshirt, and my newly-purchased
white ballet slippers (which, by the
way, I bought on sale that morning).
Finally, at the provocation of another
Daily reporter who insisted on coming
along to laugh at my dancing debut, I
made my way to the barre at the rear of,
the room. Villella, who was now of-,
ficially my instructor, stopped talking
to the class, took one look at my,
pathetic physique-as I am sure the;
whole class did-and said, "You picked
the hardest one."
After my initial laughter, I realized'
that my teacher wasn't joking. I had in-
deed picked the hardest dance, or so it
seemed. The class was leaping and
kicking to an allegro tempo that
consistently left me at least four bars
behind. I gave my Daily colleague more
fun than she bargained for with my
sloppy attempts to keep in step.
When Villella told of his first ex-
perience in ballet class, he said, "there
were 40 giggling girls, my mother, and
me." My experience the first day of
class, while not so dramatic as my
teacher's, was equally as awkward. In
this case, there were 20 serious and
skilled ballerinas, my colleague-at
this point almost in tears suppressing
her laughter-and me, watching my
reflection in the wall-size mirror, con-
centrating on the girl in front of me and
our instructor's feet simultaneously,
trying to figure out where to step next.
The next dancing endeavor of the af-
ternoon was more my speed. Villella in-
structed the piano player in the corner
of the room to play something "slow
and easy" and we all moved our bodies
to the relaxed tempo. This, I thought,
was my kind of dance. Yes, maybe it
was worth the embarrassment, the ex-
tensive planning, and the price of the
shoes. Maybe I had found my new
career. Then again, maybe I hadn't.
Kim Vickers, one of the dancers in
Villella's company, had told me that
she spent the majority of her career
dancing to fast and energetic music.
"Basically, I am an allegro dancer,"
she said. "But I enjoy some of the
slower dancing I am doing now. It just
gives you more time to think about
what you're doing on stage."
That was exactly what I needed:
more time to think. In my first inter-
view for a dancing job, I can say,
"Basically, I am an andante dancer.
You know, slow graceful stuff, not
much movement."
Besides, Wednesday night was
Vickers' last performance. She was
flying to Oklahoma to accept an offer to
teach dance. She had, through all her
allegro dance, developed a bad foot and
decided it was time to hang up the old
leotard.
Throughout his career, Villella has
broken nine toes, developed a bad back,
and now dances with an artificial hip
joint. After his performance Tuesday
night, I asked him how he was feeling.
"My body is really talking to me right
now," he replied.
Suddenly the romance of the ballet
was fading.
I tried to rationalize what I was
doing. I talked to Paulo Manso de
Sousa, another of the dancers in
Villella's company, and he told me that
he started taking ballet lessons at the
age of 15. That's just four years
younger than I am! By my own
somewhat irrational rule of logic, I was
momentarily convinced that I could fit
right in with my newly acquired
colleagues in the world of dance.
Tragically, that was about the time
rational thinking set in. If my perfor-
mance to date is any indication of my
prospective talent, the male dance
community can rest easy for a while. I
have decided not to audition for the
New York City Ballet, or the Univer-
sity's dance school, or even Vic Tanny's
aerobicize course quite yet.
There is one minor detail I neglected
when I cited Manso de Sousa's career
commencement date. He is now 25. In
other words, it took him 10 years of
hard work before he got a chance to
leap across the Power Center stage and
solicit applause from Ann Arbor dance
enthusiasts such as myself. If his first
day in class was at all similar to mine,
he deserves a round of applause for
Premier ballet artist Edward Villella gives Daily staff writer Pete '
a lesson in the fundamentals of dance.
keeping it up this long. considers ballet a spectator
Edward Villella and I both got our And if the dance professio
first glimpse of the Power Center from the loss, I think I will retir
the same perspective. Since then, slippers and stick to writing
however, I have had a chance to see a while-though possiblyn
Villella and company several times as a as critically.
member of the audience. And thanks to
my unique experience during his first Williams is a Daily s
visit to Ann Arbor, I appreciate that
perspective a great deal more. NowI who has a tendency to go
know why a great majority of the world in his coverage.
Villiams
's activity.
n can stand
e my ballet
about it for
never again
taff writer
overboard
Springsteen does rock like it's meant to be
(ContinuedfromPage7, "Hungry Heart", Springsteen ob- The two encores, which included steel guitar playing. Keyboardist Roy
"Dancin' In The Dark" still couldn't viously sees the audience as active par- "Born To Run", the aforementioned Bittan, having toned down the quasi-
shake its teeny bopper feel, "Bobby ticipants and not customers to be pan- "Jungle Land" and the Mitch Ryder classical flourishes, added a nice
Jean" and "Glory Days" (the latter to dered to. medley, were all pounding, riveting restrained elegance. Only keyboardist
which Springsteen gave a touchingly With all of the monologues and raps examples of ensemble showmanship Danny Federici (adding sparse, not
personal but humorous slant regarding between songs, there was a festive and power. The final song, a cover of very colorful synth embellishments)
his own maturity) worked marvelously. nature to the proceedings. In fact "Twist And Shout" a la rhumba, with and back up singer Patti Scialfa (whom
"No Surrender" found a certain quiet "Growin' Up" was broken up half way all of the house lights turned up and the Springsteen only recently discovered
power in an understated accoustic ver- through by a bit of prankish myth- audience on their feet in ecstatic en- singing in a bar) seemed like ac-
sion, which indicates that its composer making as Springsteen and his thusiasm, was the sort of thing concert cessory, not fully integrated members.
perceives multiple levels to his work, sideman/saxophonist Clarence Clem- goers freeze in their memories. It But the soul was there, and the whole
and can demonstrate them effectively. ons enacted a skit depicting how, doesn't matter if those who've seen in- ensemble played with a tight, glorious
For someone who has had a mass when lost in a dark forest one night (as numberable Springsteen tours over the (particularly on a surprise inclusion of
following for a number of years now, an extra in a bear costume followed years nod their heads in recognition, "Because The Night") magnificence.
Springsteen is refreshingly free of any them across the darkened stage) stum- there was nothing formulaic or rote The kind of honest love for their craft
egotism. As he took frequently to a bled onto two instruments set ina ray of about it for a second. that Springsteen and his entourage
raised platform behind the stage and light, and found their calling. The six members of the band, though have is all too rare an experience in
faced the audience stuck behind him, it Springsteen picked up the sax and tried definitely in their places as backup concert going. As most bands submit
was obvious this performer was not strumming it like a guitar while players to Springsteen, matched his themselves to being just another piece
going to be swallowed by his gargan- Clarence struggled with trying to blow soul and energy. Clarence Clemons, of the entertainment industry
tuan surroundings. And as demon- into Springsteen's electric before they prancing about stage in bright red was machinery (witness the Jackson tour)
strated by the bits of crowd interaction, swapped axes and took the song to its like some jubilant, wonderfully strange it's more than a little reassuring to find
jumping down into the main floor roaring finale. It was admittedly silly, Santa Claus. Nils Lofgren, who has an someone who understands, and cap-
during "Tenth Ave. Freeze Out", or let- but thoroughly charming because of the impish stage presence, added a new tures, the essence of what makes live
ting the crowd sing the first verse of fact. glow to the bands sound with his liquid music so important in the first place.
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