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Josephine Jewkes,
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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
September 30th. I am writing this in haste among a sea of Cruel Garden theatrical debris in my Bristol Hippodrome dressing-room: garish fabric, flowers, plastic beads, bottles of wig glue and boxes of wigs, tubes of greasepaint lying among unopened sandwiches which I will only have time to eat on the journey home tonight after the show. Last week in Manchester, I made an unobtrusive return to dancing with a new part in Rooster. This week saw my biggest hurdle yet, which was to reprise my usual part in Airs. Airs is a most deceptive piece, usually described as 'serene', but for the performers it seems like a cross between an aerobics class on fast-forward and an attempt at the London Marathon. There is one particular section near the end when, with legs and lungs pushed to their limits, the choreography suddenly goes quite crazy "like a fight in a paper bag" as I said to Chris Bruce. And no matter the quality, stamina or technique of the dancers involved, it always looks like a fight in a paper bag. Afterwards the audience applauds politely and the purple-faced performers collapse in a panting heap in the wings. The pas de deux I perform in the middle of the ballet has its own hazards, the simplest moments suddenly fraught with danger as the bare torso of my partner, bathed in perspiration, becomes an obstacle to negotiate with care, rather than with the carefree, tender and Watteau-esque (I always think) air which the steps suggest. During my first (of two) shows in Airs this week, I was really pushed to the limits of my stamina and fell into bed afterwards, too tired even to eat. The day after, my hip was very sore and tight and I completed the ballet class with great difficulty. With no physio or massage treatment available, willpower and adrenalin were my medication. The second show was somewhat easier, and I managed to stay awake for a post-show dinner party at our digs where we all chipped in for food and the tasks of cooking and clearing up! Good digs, where one can make a home-from-home for a few days, make all the difference to the touring life. I have been staying with the Hutchinsons in their huge and welcoming house for seven years now, as my entries in their bulging visitors' book show. With the Sadlers Wells season fast approaching, Chris Bruce is concerned to finish his new piece. After the modern class on stage (me doing a careful barre and exercises in the auditorium) the company gathered for notes on Cruel Garden (the second cast made their triumphant debuts last night) before the afternoon was devoted to the new ballet, now entitled Four Scenes. Christopher is not only concerned to finish the piece, he also wanted to see how well the second cast have managed to pick up the steps. As this work is specially commissioned for the inauguration of the Wells, there is no way it could be cancelled due to injury. Myself being one of the second cast, I can record the embarrassment and frustration of us all as we flailed around with only hazy ideas of the intricate fast sections (of which there are many) most of which were set before Chris had even chosen his second cast and which, when done to speed, are impossible to analyse and reproduce. The result is that I know half of the second scene and most of the third and fourth scenes, but the hopscotch variations of the first scene are pretty much a mystery to me. Let us hope for everyone's sake that Patti stays healthy.
An interesting invitation has arisen for me to dance in a new project due to be performed in London in the spring of next year. If this is to be possible, then considerable juggling of dates regarding Rambert is going to be necessary. I hope very much this will work out as a tailor-made, expressive comic role if just the tonic I need after this miserable year...........
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