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![]() Wedded Bliss..... | |||||||
Happy New Year to all. December was a great month for me - though it did not include any dancing; (Dancing? Um refresh my memory..). I shared a cottage by the sea for a week with six of my Rambert colleagues when the company performed at the Theatre Royal in Plymouth. It was good to have a change of scene, breathe some fresh air and do my inevitable exercises on the auditorium carpet instead of my cat-fluffed one at home. I watched some exciting shows and enjoyed some lovely home-cooked meals afterwards. I also met up with some artist friends of mine who had been commissioned to design the wedding rings for my forthcoming marriage. The week in Plymouth made the time pass more agreeably (and quickly) as I waited for my fiance to return home from his 5 months in Denmark as ballet-master with Peter Schaufuss's new company. Being apart for the best part of a year is proving to be a difficult experiment for us both as Tim and I pursue job satisfaction among the dance companies of Europe. After eight years of living together, touring together and dancing together (not always harmoniously it may be said) these months have been a severe test of the career v home life tug-of-war which has never been an easy one for dancers to resolve. The minute Tim's plane touched down on English soil I was of course scheduled to attend rehearsals of "Axioma 7" - one of the ballets due to go on tour to the USA in March. This was the only piece in the repertoire that I could rehearse because a good deal of the part I was learning takes place sitting in a chair and making a frantic series of crazy gestures and movements which gradually compound themselves into longer and longer sequences. And contrary to what one London critic wrote about the piece, it has absolutely NOTHING to do with Israeli soldiers... (Ohad Naharin's wife, over in London to rehears the piece for him, told me wearily that every piece the poor man choreographs is attributed to the political situation over in his home country by critics anxious to 'read' his ballets). Two weeks later and Tim and I were on the plane to his native Stockholm to celebrate Christmas, our wedding and then New Year in snowy style. (And just as I am supposed to be pulling myself back into shape...) Accordingly my exercises take place on polished wooden floors and hanging onto bannisters, trying to cling onto what form I had managed to achieve in London let alone improve it further. Anyway, if anyone wishes to know, the wedding was the strongest emotional moment of my life as I stood in a tiny, painted, candlelit 12th Century church in my 'Anna Karenina' dress plighting my troth to my Byronic husband. The priest was heard afterwards to remark that it was like a fairytale!! The hordes of angelic (and not so angelic) children frolicking around at the reception later made me reflect further on the next burning question in every ballerina's life... January 5th and normal service is resumed: Tim is in London until Feb 8th, but I rehearse for a week and then leave with the company for Hungary.... And so at last, after nearly 4 months of my injury I attempt my first barre with the company. I use a quarter of my meagre-at-the-best-of-times turnout and enjoy moving to music for the first time in ages. Pain in the hip forces me to stop after the barre and apply the hot water bottle, but I persevere and by Thursday I am able to do a more normal barre plus some centre work, as well as rehearse my parts in Rooster and Stream which I am due to dance next week(!!!). This also means that I am on a 'diet' which for me means suppressing my insatiable sweet tooth for a week or so while I sweat myself into shape. Thankfully my wise choice of parents means that I do not have to fret about fat genes and my body finds its natural balance quite quickly. [all right for some! Ed]
So, 1998 here we go.....
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