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Josephine Jewkes,
'Airs' and Injections... | |||||||
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Josephine Jewkes, dancer with Rambert and formerly an ENB Principal, writes each month on the "dancing life".
Link to the previous column
October 98 An Eventful month. My sister turned up in late September with her "I Ching" bag of tricks. When we did my chart it came up as "Being Restricted". As someone half-crippled with hip pain and stuck in a never-ending house sale, this diagnosis had a ring of truth. It warned me that the situation would continue - which indeed it has. In early October I started to try and build up some stamina for my forthcoming shows of Airs at Sadlers Wells. This I did by swimming in the open air pool at Richmond at around 7 am most days which was a wonderfully invigorating start to the day. My classroom achievements remained patchy, with good and bad days and lots of physiotherapy exercises to stretch and strengthen the weakened gluteus muscles around the hip. Once again, my conscientious attempt to join in a Cunningham class given by a member of the Cunningham company met with a fierce adverse reaction from the hip. With the Sadlers Wells season approaching, we were warned that the building was very unfinished and we were likely to have to wear hard hats everywhere but onstage - if we made it that far ........... We finally went to Sadlers Wells for our first rehearsals on Tuesday, October 6 which was also my birthday. We found a warren of grey, dusty concrete corridors and open spaces which were quite bewildering - not having any decor with which to distinguish one from the other. The good news was that the two dressing rooms were beautifully built and the rehearsal studio was huge, light and warm (and almost finished). We were welcomed by a beaming line-up of all the people in charge, including Ian Albery and Nigel Slater. Our presence lent reality to their amazing efforts and helped them work toward the impossible-seeming deadline. We were disappointed but not surprised to find no running water in the showers, but highly amused to find boiling water in the lavatory flush - the ultimate 'hot flush'. During that first day we rehearsed in the studio (as the stage was not yet ready), orchestra and all - which meant that I was treated to a full orchestral rendering of 'Happy Birthday' in several different keys simultaneously. The day also featured me weeping in a heap on the floor during class because the pain in my hip was so extreme. On Wednesday it was worse and I could do nothing but rest that day and the next. My second cast was hurriedly shoved on in my place in Airs for one of the previews onstage and acquitted herself delightfully. The previews were necessarily informal with Chris Bruce explaining to the audience (of Bovis family and friends) that the dancers would wear woollies and 'mark' the steps at times because of the cold and dust. The big industrial heaters parked in the wings threw out a hellish rosy glow onto the stage. Poor London Musici shivered and froze in their deep and draughty pit. I sat in the wings hissing counts at Rachel for her Airs entrances. The physio recommended that I continue to rest the hip until Monday and the first performance proper. This meant that my stamina and fitness-building schedule was in shreds. Never in my life had I lain in bed for four days and then attempted to perform on the fifth. And at the prestigious opening of a new theatre? Nightmare. On Friday I went with Cathy, the physio, to seek a second opinion from Mr. Marston, orthopaedic surgeon at St. Mary's, Paddington. His suspicion is that I have a chronic bursitis of the trochanter which would only respond to a steroid injection (it is too far gone for rest alone to cure it). More tests are ordered and in the meantime I am to raise my Voltarol dosage to the maximum 150 mg. Well at least some cure is suggested, so I am hopeful. Monday 12 October dawned and we arrived to find the usual hive of activity and a grey haze of concrete dust clouding the air onstage, worse than before. As it was, many of the dancers and crew had hoarse coughs and the few asthmatics among the dancers were especially concerned. It was imperative that the stage rehearsal go ahead, but Chris Bruce was very concerned and threatened to pull the whole thing if the stage was not warmed and vacuumed for us. Dust-masks hurriedly appeared and we found ourselves rehearsing Airs looking like manic extras from Star Wars. The Voltarol dosage worked well, and I danced through the historic Monday night in no pain. The audience was reserved (mostly there to see the theatre, perhaps) and we all felt a little 'strange'. Very relieved though - especially after all the brinkmanship about the licence had kept the dancers warming up endlessly, which is never a good situation for us: either one goes "off the boil" or the nerves start to kick in, or you get cold, or tired, etc. etc. On Tuesday the hip was holding up remarkably well and I ignored my sad classroom form, just concentrating on easing myself through my four scheduled performances. After a slightly uncomfortable Airs (here are some reviews), we tore upstairs while the speeches were going on onstage and, after a quick shower, threw ourselves into our outfits for the post-performance reception. I just had time to wipe off the black greasepaint lines from my stage make-up before we all promenaded onstage to warm applause and the theatre was officially inaugurated. By Wednesday and Thursday we could all relax and enjoy our performances, especially as the real Rambert audience was out there by then ("the Doc Marten brigade" as my Mum calls them), showing us their appreciation exuberantly. I just made it through, as by Thursday, drugs or no drugs, I was having difficulty even going down the road for a sandwich. To cut a long story short, the further tests were inconclusive but bursitis still seemed the likeliest diagnosis and so, on 20 October, I had a steroid injection into the painful area. Now it is a case of waiting and resting for about a fortnight to see if it has worked. If it has, then further rest of 2-3 weeks is recommended. If it has not - well, I do not even want to think about that. This means that I will miss Cruel Garden at the Wells, which is a shame, but at least I do not miss out on the proposed Chilean tour which has been indefinitely postponed following the agitation over General Pinochet. 'Swansong' was programmed for the tour and really would have been a 'hot' piece, choreographed as it was in response to the Chilean branch of Amnesty International. As for the mystery project I mentioned in last month's diary, sadly I am unable to do it as Chris Bruce cannot spare me for the three months or so it would take. This I understand: not only will he be short of female dancers at that time, but he has stuck by me so patiently during this endless injury that I do not blame him for wanting to reap some benefit from it, i.e. have me onstage dancing for longer than four days at a time. I am trying to look ahead realistically however, and have applied for an Open University course "Living with Technology" in the hope of dragging myself into the 20th Century by hook or by crook. Never a dull moment. Update: it is barely two weeks since the steroid injection and my new beard is coming along nicely - no, not really, but I had to put that in for Kevin Richmond. No, the good news is that the hip seems to be responding well. The degree of pain has reduced by about 50% and surgeon Mr. Marston says that I can expect further improvement over the next two weeks. For the moment I am to continue life as a 'normal' person, with no exercising other than limited walking allowed. I am pencilled in to rejoin the company for easy background stuff in early December. If this latest treatment is the key, then I certainly would rather attempt my fourth (?) comeback later rather than earlier. It is possible that a further injection might be necessary but this will be decided in my next consultation in a fortnight.
The death of Christopher Gable a week ago was a great loss to the dance world. I was incredibly lucky to be exposed to the full force of his irresistible charm and enthusiasm at the impressionable age of sixteen when he came to Bush Davies to mount a full-length Coppelia. He planted seeds with deep roots, and maxims such as "account for every second of your time onstage" became a talisman for me to carry all my professional life. It was he who introduced me to Stanislavski's "An Actor Prepares" and who perceptively observed that, professionally, i was "born to suffer". Heady stuff for a teenager! He had such a galvanising effect that I was jolted (briefly!) out of my usual excoriating self-criticism into a week-long bubble of confidence. My videos of those early shows record all my considerable technical weaknesses but also demonstrate how my new-found self-belief allowed me to surmount them and enjoy the experience of living out the character of Swanilda afresh each night. (My subsequent favourite coaches, Woytec Lowski and Maria Fay took the same approach: build up a dancer's confidence, concentrate on the character portrayed and the the nuance and phrasing of the music and technique will come alive). The 'family' service was crammed with a couple of hundred people whose lives he touched, and the memorial service later in December should see plenty more. Christopher's talent for inspiring and enthusing the young people around him was extraordinary and irreplaceable.
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