(If I was on Twitter, my updates during the ceremony this afternoon might have gone something like this...)
~ Okay, the Rona commercials are officially the best of the Olympics. (I still miss Frank and Gordon though -- remember them from Torino 2006 on CBC?)
~ The music at the end of the opening bit, when they'd just forged the ring -- that was beautiful. I don't remember it anymore, but I remember thinking it was beautiful.
~ Can you fathom how many people were just dancing? And then how many people were technicians, working the lights and giving direction? How crazy organised was this? More crazy -- how much time did the choreographer spend on this? I'm sure he had assistants, but still -- I have trouble keeping track of a sixteen-person formation in my head. I can't even wrap my head around several thousand.
~ I seriously almost got my camera so I could take a picture of the rings against the darkening sky, even though it was on the TV screen. Stunning. The colour was fantastic.
~ OHMYGOODNESS IT'S MR BEAN!!!
~ Wow, Mr Bean got old... still just as funny though.
~ Holy man that's a lot of spandex... I mean, I wasn't around in the seventies so I don't know, but that still seems excessive...
~ That dance to Abide With Me was so cool! Though I wouldn't have put it to such a solemn song.
~ I would so love to be a part of something like this. It doesn't matter where or how or in what position -- I just want to be on that stage.
~ Ha, look at all those iPhones in the parade of nations.
~ Are you freaking kidding me? Am I seriously going to have to listen to that crappy I Believe song every hour for seventeen days -- again? No. No. Just -- no. (And to make this worse, I think this is a network decision, meaning we Canadians are the only ones who have to suffer... come on CTV, really? Really? There haven't been any half-decent songs recorded since Vancouver 2010 that you could play ad nauseum?)
~ I hope nobody in London planned on getting a 'decent' nights' sleep tonight. That light show would wake anybody.
~ I wonder just how many human beings there are in that place. You have all the athletes from all the countries, you have the spectators, you have everyone who shows up on the stage at some point in the show, you have all the technicians and the cameramen from who knows how many networks...
~ GO CANADA GO!!!
~ I so want to pull off something even a fraction of this magnitude.
~ Did you see the ceremony? Did you see how many people where there, giving their all for this? How much effort and detail and practice went into this? And Heaven will be something like this, only more so -- all the people praising God with this intensity and passion and exuberance. And it won't be over in four hours -- it'll go on for eternity.
Awesome.
27 July 2012
Glory To The King - The Somewhat Extended History Of The Dance (So Far). And Music Day.
Remember the other day when I mentioned I was working on choreography for Glory To The King?
Actually, my choreographic work on it predates even Sing Your Freedom. I started working on it in early January. It was the first bit of Benesh notation I ever did.
Initially I managed to turn out six pages, however, my enthusiasm flagged and I was lured away by a different project -- You Are The One (which was also put on the back burner later in favour of Sing Your Freedom before I went back and completed it at the end of April).
A couple times over the following months I glanced over the pages from Glory To The King, but found no real desire (or self-discipline, more accurately) to add to it.
However, it's a fantastic song. I wanted there to be a dance to it, there needed to be a dance to it, but those pages intimidated me.
After finishing Them at the end of June, I was at a loss for what to do next. I had a handful of songs I was considering, but nothing that really jumped out and grabbed me.
And there it sat in my 'current choreography' playlist, like it had for over six months.
Glory To The King.
Reluctantly I brought out the pages I'd already written -- about forty seconds' worth of material -- and looked them over.
The intro was all right, but my counts were completely wrong. It was impossible to follow the timing. I revised the intro concept very slightly and rewrote the entire sequence on fresh paper, with the proper time signatures.
And then I stalled out again.
It took weeks just to reach the beginning of the first chorus -- a mere thirty seconds of music. Only in the past four or five days have I managed to complete the chorus and the second verse. Now in the trenches of the second chorus, I'm finding inspiration a little easier to find, but I feel like it's getting repetitive... I seem to have notated an awful lot of parallel retierré jumps in the not-too-distant past.
But in a weird way, it reminded me of the days when I was slogging through Sing Your Freedom. I was definitely more enthusiastic about that project than this one, but the sitting down and listening to the same ten seconds again and again and again and again, waiting for my brain to come up with something to go with the next measure, trying to wrap my head around who needs a separate stave on this page and who can I lump together as I try to figure out the details of yet another formation change -- the mood of this one is as close to the Sing Your Freedom days as I've gotten since I finished it in mid-April.
And while the small reminder of the Sing Your Freedom days was a little refreshing, the big break came last Thursday, the 19th.
While out running errands, I listened to David Meece's CD Once In A Lifetime (Star Song, 1993). Track three is this song called Brokenness. When I was little, I never paid the song much heed -- it was slow and 'boring.' However, in recent years I've been paying more attention to all the songs on the album. And Brokenness is a beautiful song. I looked it up in my choreography notes binder and found notes for both a solo and a group of five. Since I knew I would have to choose eventually, I tried to make my decision then -- save me some time and energy later. Ultimately I decided on a solo. And since I was desperate for something, anything, to distract me from Glory To The King while still accomplishing my purpose in life, I began to compose the solo to Brokenness.
And it kick-started my imagination for Glory To The King.
At first, I was just happy that I'd finally gotten a bit of a second wind (even if it was more of a breeze than a real wind, but who's splitting hairs?) for Glory To The King. But as I thought about it, I realised that Sing Your Freedom also had really taken off when I picked up You Are The One again and started working on that alongside.
Sing Your Freedom is for eight dancers. You Are The One is for four. Glory To The King is for six. Brokenness is a solo. Large dance, small dance, both at the same time.
I can't help thinking maybe I've finally figured out the trick to this.
(This 'shake-it-up' idea may be obvious to some, but keep in mind I've been writing novels at an average of two per year since age fourteen. You can't afford to mess up your plot by working a second one at the same time. You immerse yourself in one novel, one plot, until you've got it written out and the rough draft done.)
As promised -- I think it was two weeks ago now -- here is the official Music Day information:
Title: Glory To The King
Artist: Peter Furler
Album: On Fire
Year: 2011
Label: Sparrow Records
iTunes here; YouTube here.
Why do I like the song? Well, to pare it down to one little phrase, it would be this: exuberant joy. Any other words I could put to this would be inadequate. In fact, my primary struggle with the choreography is not in trying to keep it low-key enough to match the music (which is usually the case), it's the fact that short of piano wire, the excited jumps physically can't get any higher and without the threat of fire or something the joyful leaps cannot be performed any faster than they already are.
It's here!
Lift up your hands and sing
Glory to the King!
The King of everything...
Actually, my choreographic work on it predates even Sing Your Freedom. I started working on it in early January. It was the first bit of Benesh notation I ever did.
Initially I managed to turn out six pages, however, my enthusiasm flagged and I was lured away by a different project -- You Are The One (which was also put on the back burner later in favour of Sing Your Freedom before I went back and completed it at the end of April).
A couple times over the following months I glanced over the pages from Glory To The King, but found no real desire (or self-discipline, more accurately) to add to it.
However, it's a fantastic song. I wanted there to be a dance to it, there needed to be a dance to it, but those pages intimidated me.
After finishing Them at the end of June, I was at a loss for what to do next. I had a handful of songs I was considering, but nothing that really jumped out and grabbed me.
And there it sat in my 'current choreography' playlist, like it had for over six months.
Glory To The King.
Reluctantly I brought out the pages I'd already written -- about forty seconds' worth of material -- and looked them over.
The intro was all right, but my counts were completely wrong. It was impossible to follow the timing. I revised the intro concept very slightly and rewrote the entire sequence on fresh paper, with the proper time signatures.
And then I stalled out again.
It took weeks just to reach the beginning of the first chorus -- a mere thirty seconds of music. Only in the past four or five days have I managed to complete the chorus and the second verse. Now in the trenches of the second chorus, I'm finding inspiration a little easier to find, but I feel like it's getting repetitive... I seem to have notated an awful lot of parallel retierré jumps in the not-too-distant past.
But in a weird way, it reminded me of the days when I was slogging through Sing Your Freedom. I was definitely more enthusiastic about that project than this one, but the sitting down and listening to the same ten seconds again and again and again and again, waiting for my brain to come up with something to go with the next measure, trying to wrap my head around who needs a separate stave on this page and who can I lump together as I try to figure out the details of yet another formation change -- the mood of this one is as close to the Sing Your Freedom days as I've gotten since I finished it in mid-April.
And while the small reminder of the Sing Your Freedom days was a little refreshing, the big break came last Thursday, the 19th.
While out running errands, I listened to David Meece's CD Once In A Lifetime (Star Song, 1993). Track three is this song called Brokenness. When I was little, I never paid the song much heed -- it was slow and 'boring.' However, in recent years I've been paying more attention to all the songs on the album. And Brokenness is a beautiful song. I looked it up in my choreography notes binder and found notes for both a solo and a group of five. Since I knew I would have to choose eventually, I tried to make my decision then -- save me some time and energy later. Ultimately I decided on a solo. And since I was desperate for something, anything, to distract me from Glory To The King while still accomplishing my purpose in life, I began to compose the solo to Brokenness.
And it kick-started my imagination for Glory To The King.
At first, I was just happy that I'd finally gotten a bit of a second wind (even if it was more of a breeze than a real wind, but who's splitting hairs?) for Glory To The King. But as I thought about it, I realised that Sing Your Freedom also had really taken off when I picked up You Are The One again and started working on that alongside.
Sing Your Freedom is for eight dancers. You Are The One is for four. Glory To The King is for six. Brokenness is a solo. Large dance, small dance, both at the same time.
I can't help thinking maybe I've finally figured out the trick to this.
(This 'shake-it-up' idea may be obvious to some, but keep in mind I've been writing novels at an average of two per year since age fourteen. You can't afford to mess up your plot by working a second one at the same time. You immerse yourself in one novel, one plot, until you've got it written out and the rough draft done.)
As promised -- I think it was two weeks ago now -- here is the official Music Day information:
Title: Glory To The King
Artist: Peter Furler
Album: On Fire
Year: 2011
Label: Sparrow Records
iTunes here; YouTube here.
Why do I like the song? Well, to pare it down to one little phrase, it would be this: exuberant joy. Any other words I could put to this would be inadequate. In fact, my primary struggle with the choreography is not in trying to keep it low-key enough to match the music (which is usually the case), it's the fact that short of piano wire, the excited jumps physically can't get any higher and without the threat of fire or something the joyful leaps cannot be performed any faster than they already are.
It's here!
Lift up your hands and sing
Glory to the King!
The King of everything...
21 July 2012
A Wonderful Moment
Went onto iTunes to buy Trip Lee single. Found THEY NOW CARRY THE ONE WHITE HEART ALBUM I'M STILL MISSING!
This would have been even better news if I had more than sixty-two cents on my iTunes account. Ah well; at least my birthday's coming up... (*cough cough* any relatives who might be reading this *cough cough*)
This would have been even better news if I had more than sixty-two cents on my iTunes account. Ah well; at least my birthday's coming up... (*cough cough* any relatives who might be reading this *cough cough*)
17 July 2012
Why I Don't Have A Nine-To-Five Job - The Practical Reason
For the past month and a half or so I've been seriously contemplating sucking it up and getting a *shudder* nine-to-five job. After all, college and (hopefully) three or four extra dance classes do not pay for themselves.
Of course, in order for me to work a nine-to-five job, I have to actually be slightly conscious at nine o'clock in the morning (actually, it would have to be more like 7.30 to allow for the commute).
So last week I put my abilities to the test.
Our church was hosting their children's day camp that week and I had been pressed into service as Official Event Documenter (translation: photographer). The camp ran from Monday to Friday, from nine till noon. This meant I had to be at the church at 8.30. Which meant I had to be leaving the house at eight. Which meant I had to be awake by 7.30.
In order to do this, drastic measures were required. I forced myself into bed by 12.30 am every night. This meant I accomplished approximately half a page of choreography over nine days (I've been known to do six in one day). Over the course of the week, my mental capacity deteriorated greatly. I don't think I've ever felt so stupid and unproductive in my life. By Thursday I couldn't focus on anything for more than two seconds. Every time I tried to do something productive I became narcoleptic. Basically, I was a zombie.
Last night was my first night in over a week that I didn't have to be up at a certain time the next morning. So, like the rebel I am, I went straight on through till 4.30 am before going to bed. Sure, I didn't wake up till 11.30, but I've already gotten three pages done on Glory To The King (among other miscellaneous household tasks) and was contemplating doing some more choreography once I publish this. You can get a lot done in fifty minutes.
So basically, either I get a 9-to-5 and be a zombie for the rest of my then-cursed life, or I keep looking for something slightly less square-peg-in-round-hole and can then continue with the work God seems to have called me to do.
Of course, in order for me to work a nine-to-five job, I have to actually be slightly conscious at nine o'clock in the morning (actually, it would have to be more like 7.30 to allow for the commute).
So last week I put my abilities to the test.
Our church was hosting their children's day camp that week and I had been pressed into service as Official Event Documenter (translation: photographer). The camp ran from Monday to Friday, from nine till noon. This meant I had to be at the church at 8.30. Which meant I had to be leaving the house at eight. Which meant I had to be awake by 7.30.
In order to do this, drastic measures were required. I forced myself into bed by 12.30 am every night. This meant I accomplished approximately half a page of choreography over nine days (I've been known to do six in one day). Over the course of the week, my mental capacity deteriorated greatly. I don't think I've ever felt so stupid and unproductive in my life. By Thursday I couldn't focus on anything for more than two seconds. Every time I tried to do something productive I became narcoleptic. Basically, I was a zombie.
Last night was my first night in over a week that I didn't have to be up at a certain time the next morning. So, like the rebel I am, I went straight on through till 4.30 am before going to bed. Sure, I didn't wake up till 11.30, but I've already gotten three pages done on Glory To The King (among other miscellaneous household tasks) and was contemplating doing some more choreography once I publish this. You can get a lot done in fifty minutes.
So basically, either I get a 9-to-5 and be a zombie for the rest of my then-cursed life, or I keep looking for something slightly less square-peg-in-round-hole and can then continue with the work God seems to have called me to do.
11 July 2012
Creative Brain Is Being A Jerk
You know what's annoying?
When you haven't done any substantial amount of choreography for like three weeks and then you put yourself on a guilt trip to catch it all up because you don't have forever but every time you so much as click on the iTunes window you fall asleep, even if it's still five hours before your regular bedtime. And then after several weeks of this nonsense your frustration grows to the point where you're thinking 'why do I even bother putting in all that effort to waking up in the morning with intent to do something with my life if my stupid brain is going to put me to sleep every time I want it to do what it was created to do in the first place?'
I think that must be one of the most annoying things in the world.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm not supposed to ever ever ever choreograph Glory To The King... which makes me sad, because it's a fantastic song which totally screams for jumping and high kicks and jazz hands and general all-round joyful exuberance. (In fact, I'm thinking I'll feature this song for Music Day this week, if I still remember by Friday.)
When you haven't done any substantial amount of choreography for like three weeks and then you put yourself on a guilt trip to catch it all up because you don't have forever but every time you so much as click on the iTunes window you fall asleep, even if it's still five hours before your regular bedtime. And then after several weeks of this nonsense your frustration grows to the point where you're thinking 'why do I even bother putting in all that effort to waking up in the morning with intent to do something with my life if my stupid brain is going to put me to sleep every time I want it to do what it was created to do in the first place?'
I think that must be one of the most annoying things in the world.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm not supposed to ever ever ever choreograph Glory To The King... which makes me sad, because it's a fantastic song which totally screams for jumping and high kicks and jazz hands and general all-round joyful exuberance. (In fact, I'm thinking I'll feature this song for Music Day this week, if I still remember by Friday.)
30 June 2012
What Would I Have Missed?
June 30.
I didn't know the date at the time (I'm often lucky just to know what month it is). But since that week it's been etched into my mind. Hardly a day goes by where the memory of June 30, 2010 doesn't nudge at my consciousness.
I feel, in a way, that I've been given a 'bonus life,' like in a video game. Especially in the first year after the accident, I would hear the name of the date and my first thought would be, 'the day I died,' in the same casual way I associate certain dates with friends' birthdays. It took conscious thought to remember that I hadn't died (actually I hadn't even been seriously injured).
It was such a catalyst. Before the accident, I was depressed, numb to everything, at times suicidal -- in fact, just that Sunday I had been poking out of habit at the idea of suicide again, in the wake of some especially cutting words directed at me by a member of the youth group, whom I had previously considered a friend.
But on June 30, laying in that hospital bed, completely immobilised as I waited for them to take x-rays, thinking about the events of an hour before and what could have been -- suddenly I realised I wanted to live. I've not been suicidal since.
As I lay there I wondered, what if I had died? What would I have left?
That set me into a completely different mindset. If it was not yet my time to die, then what was I supposed to do with my life until it was?
Starting 1 July 2010, I pursued the answer to that question like a madwoman. It's become a bit of an addiction, that question... What am I supposed to do with my life? This year? This week? Today? This moment?
My searching and praying pointed to my passion for dance, but that's too long for this post. It also pushed me deeper into encouraging other people and other things as well.
Today, though, on the two-year anniversary, I started thinking -- what would I have missed? What have I experienced since that day that I wouldn't have if I been five inches further into the intersection at the time of impact?
I would never have seen my little brother (six months old at the time), learn how to walk and I would now be missing watching his vocabulary increase at a daily rate.
I would have missed two years of dance by now (going on three).
All those dances in my head, those pieces of choreography I kept reviewing over and over in my mind so to keep them fresh until I knew how to write them down -- those would have been gone. Sing Your Freedom, You Are The One, King Of Kings, Apathy Alert, The Gift, Them -- those would never have been composed or written down (now that I think about it, I didn't even know any of those songs at the time).
The novels Reuben, Rebecca's World, Chasm, Hidden Beauty, and Kidnapped would never have been written, even in rough draft form.
I would never have gotten to own this MacBook.
I would never have been introduced to Lecrae, classicchristian247.com, or (gasp!) White Heart. (No wonder I was depressed -- the White Heart content in my brain was low.)
In a similar vein, I would never have gotten to witness the release of John Schlitt's The Greater Cause (just ordered my copy today!).
I would never have been able to graduate.
I would never have gotten to experience for myself the peace and joy the Holy Spirit gives (another story for another post).
I would have missed last night's beautiful sunset.
I would have missed out on a good thousand or so fantastic songs (I found something I wrote just weeks before the accident saying I had 493 songs in my iTunes library. I'm currently pushing 2,000 and probably have another 500 tracks in my iTunes wish list -- never mind the stuff that isn't on the iTunes Store).
I would have missed my friends' wedding a few weeks ago.
There are so many others. Every moment is one I might never have seen. Every breath is one I might never have taken but for the grace of God in providing that five-inch space on 30 June 2010.
As someone who has been given a second chance, listen to me: Don't waste your life. When I woke up that morning, I would never have guessed it could have been my last.
21 June 2012
You Know You Need To Go To Bed When...
...you're making a playlist and humming Fool's Gold and you wonder what that song would have sounded like if John Schlitt had sung it.
And then you remember John Schlitt did sing it.
That's when you need to go to bed.
And then you remember John Schlitt did sing it.
That's when you need to go to bed.
16 June 2012
Music News...
PFR IS EMBARKING ON A REUNION TOUR!
So far there doesn't appear to be a Canada date, but hopefully, hopefully there's a booking agent in Alberta who'll bring it about because it would be a total dream come true... right up there with seeing a White Heart concert and a Classic Petra concert.
Come on, tell me you don't want to hear Walk Away From Love live...
PFR website/blog here.
Source (as posted by the classicchristian247.com Facebook page).
So far there doesn't appear to be a Canada date, but hopefully, hopefully there's a booking agent in Alberta who'll bring it about because it would be a total dream come true... right up there with seeing a White Heart concert and a Classic Petra concert.
Come on, tell me you don't want to hear Walk Away From Love live...
PFR website/blog here.
Source (as posted by the classicchristian247.com Facebook page).
10 June 2012
New Experiences
So last night I went to my first 'real' dance.
By that I mean my first everybody-on-the-dancefloor thing.
See, some friends of mine got married -- it was inevitable; we all saw it coming years ago -- and after the ceremony and everything I joined most of the wedding party at the dance.
I hadn't been to a wedding since I was five years old. And at that wedding I was one of the flowergirls and pretty much stole everybody's attention. Even my aunt, the bride, had to share the spotlight with her flowergirl nieces. (And believe me, I soaked it up. I was a total princess back then.) Here I wasn't even in the family, I was just a friend from church.
Anyway, after a gorgeous ceremony, there was the dance.
I half-considered not coming, since I'm hopelessly single and wasn't sure I would be able to find anything else to do aside from sit there awkwardly.
But then I realised I knew most of the people that would probably be there, so I went -- if only because some of them I hadn't seen in a long long while and I hoped to do some catching up with them.
One of them was Kristin. She'd been in England at school for nearly a year now and had finally come back for the summer. Upon arriving at the hall, I made my way over to her and her sister Annika. And within the first three songs, they had teamed up and dragged me out onto the dance floor.
It was weird. Sure I've been dancing 'officially' since I was six years old, but that's classical ballet -- completely different from a roomful of random people bopping around to the Black Eyed Peas. I think I had a harder time of it than the people who have no dance training. I had the rhythm, but I didn't have the freedom. The first few dances were incredibly awkward, but it was even more awkward to sit and kind of look around the room, so I joined Kristin and/or Annika (whichever one was on the dance floor at the time) in dancing to the songs that interested me.
Eventually I grew more comfortable. (Watching a few old friends reveal sides of themselves I'd never seen before helped -- I had no idea my fellow church PowerPoint person could dance!)
And then came a rarity -- a song I actually knew. Cotton Eyed Joe.
Kristin and I had been on the dance floor anyway, so we started on that.
Apparently the version of the song I knew was about a quarter of the length of the actual song -- just when I thought it was wrapping up, it would go back and start all over again. And again. And again.
However, dancer pride does not give up easily. I was nearly spent, but kept going. Kristin had long been reduced to swaying side to side with an extra little 'bop' on each side.
But I had raised the bar too high at the beginning to let myself back off now. I fell into a rather tap-like rhythm -- 1 2 3 4... 1 2 3 4... step side ball change hop, step side ball change hop, step side ball change hop, step side ball change hop, clap, quickly improvise another four-count sequence in time for the next barrage of counts...
About halfway through, I really began to enjoy it. I let myself experiment with the rhythm a little -- three measures the same, the fourth different, or one completely different sequence right in the middle of somewhere, snapping fingers, the odd clap as the guy got to Joe in Where did you come from, Cotton Eyed Joe?
I've never really improvised before -- and most definitely not in public. It was different. It was interesting. And it was actually kind of fun. Even though my sister was probably watching, and so was the guy who told me I was worthless and would never amount to anything, and so was the former youth pastor who probably only knew me as a frowning, nit-picky, selfish shrew, and so were Kristin and Annika's parents...
I probably didn't look like I was having fun. Several times over the course of the song I caught myself counting (out loud, but thankfully not louder than the thumping speakers) "1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4...." and when I'm counting like that I'm usually frowning in concentration. I noticed I was staring through the ceiling as I focused on keeping up with the song. But despite my efforts to tell my face I really was rather enjoying myself, the quick pace of the song demanded way more attention than my facial expression.
But now that I've improvised in public, I'm itching to do it again. It gave my choreographic mind a totally new angle to work from for a few minutes, an angle it had never seen before. Something radically different from the heavily technical, formation-based, every-finger-placed stage numbers I've been demanding of it lately.
So now I need to hang out with more people with upcoming weddings.
By that I mean my first everybody-on-the-dancefloor thing.
See, some friends of mine got married -- it was inevitable; we all saw it coming years ago -- and after the ceremony and everything I joined most of the wedding party at the dance.
I hadn't been to a wedding since I was five years old. And at that wedding I was one of the flowergirls and pretty much stole everybody's attention. Even my aunt, the bride, had to share the spotlight with her flowergirl nieces. (And believe me, I soaked it up. I was a total princess back then.) Here I wasn't even in the family, I was just a friend from church.
Anyway, after a gorgeous ceremony, there was the dance.
I half-considered not coming, since I'm hopelessly single and wasn't sure I would be able to find anything else to do aside from sit there awkwardly.
But then I realised I knew most of the people that would probably be there, so I went -- if only because some of them I hadn't seen in a long long while and I hoped to do some catching up with them.
One of them was Kristin. She'd been in England at school for nearly a year now and had finally come back for the summer. Upon arriving at the hall, I made my way over to her and her sister Annika. And within the first three songs, they had teamed up and dragged me out onto the dance floor.
It was weird. Sure I've been dancing 'officially' since I was six years old, but that's classical ballet -- completely different from a roomful of random people bopping around to the Black Eyed Peas. I think I had a harder time of it than the people who have no dance training. I had the rhythm, but I didn't have the freedom. The first few dances were incredibly awkward, but it was even more awkward to sit and kind of look around the room, so I joined Kristin and/or Annika (whichever one was on the dance floor at the time) in dancing to the songs that interested me.
Eventually I grew more comfortable. (Watching a few old friends reveal sides of themselves I'd never seen before helped -- I had no idea my fellow church PowerPoint person could dance!)
And then came a rarity -- a song I actually knew. Cotton Eyed Joe.
Kristin and I had been on the dance floor anyway, so we started on that.
Apparently the version of the song I knew was about a quarter of the length of the actual song -- just when I thought it was wrapping up, it would go back and start all over again. And again. And again.
However, dancer pride does not give up easily. I was nearly spent, but kept going. Kristin had long been reduced to swaying side to side with an extra little 'bop' on each side.
But I had raised the bar too high at the beginning to let myself back off now. I fell into a rather tap-like rhythm -- 1 2 3 4... 1 2 3 4... step side ball change hop, step side ball change hop, step side ball change hop, step side ball change hop, clap, quickly improvise another four-count sequence in time for the next barrage of counts...
About halfway through, I really began to enjoy it. I let myself experiment with the rhythm a little -- three measures the same, the fourth different, or one completely different sequence right in the middle of somewhere, snapping fingers, the odd clap as the guy got to Joe in Where did you come from, Cotton Eyed Joe?
I've never really improvised before -- and most definitely not in public. It was different. It was interesting. And it was actually kind of fun. Even though my sister was probably watching, and so was the guy who told me I was worthless and would never amount to anything, and so was the former youth pastor who probably only knew me as a frowning, nit-picky, selfish shrew, and so were Kristin and Annika's parents...
I probably didn't look like I was having fun. Several times over the course of the song I caught myself counting (out loud, but thankfully not louder than the thumping speakers) "1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4...." and when I'm counting like that I'm usually frowning in concentration. I noticed I was staring through the ceiling as I focused on keeping up with the song. But despite my efforts to tell my face I really was rather enjoying myself, the quick pace of the song demanded way more attention than my facial expression.
But now that I've improvised in public, I'm itching to do it again. It gave my choreographic mind a totally new angle to work from for a few minutes, an angle it had never seen before. Something radically different from the heavily technical, formation-based, every-finger-placed stage numbers I've been demanding of it lately.
So now I need to hang out with more people with upcoming weddings.
08 June 2012
Music Lately (Brought To You By Music Day)
Some music I've discovered recently (you know, aside from the new John Schlitt album):
New Earth (Single)
Never heard of this guy until the other Sunday night. I was almost home and the PFR CD had reached the end of the song. There wasn't time enough for the next song, so I switched to radio and hoped the station wasn't playing Mandisa, tobyMac, or Phillips Craig and Dean's disgustingly-overplayed Revelation Song.
And it wasn't. It was playing this song.
It made me think of the Kimberlites, though not as heavy in the style (the Kimberlites are good, but you can only take so much). It was happy (come on, there's whistling!), the bass was perfect, and it was a fast beat... so not typical for the local 'Christian' music station. I was hooked right away. One day there will be a tap dance to this.
(Also, apparently he's Canadian -- in fact, it sounds as if he's from the same area I am.)
(Also, apparently he's Canadian -- in fact, it sounds as if he's from the same area I am.)
Your Great Name
I'd heard this before on the radio, but kind of ignored it. After all, if you weren't paying attention (and I usually wasn't), it sounded like standard 'inspirational' radio fare. Everyone who listens to these stations knows Natalie Grant without realising that they know Natalie Grant -- she's played constantly, but somehow slips beneath our consciousness.
A few Sundays ago, though, our pastor played this song -- the full six minutes of it -- before communion. I dimmed the lights (for I was on lights/PowerPoint), the sound guy cranked it, and we all sat and soaked in the song for six minutes. It had been a pretty slow service, and this really brought it back around. Even the slightly compromised YouTube quality added to the experience.
This song is totally different to me now. I recommend blasting this at top volume. Connect high quality speakers to your computer if you have some, and close your eyes as you listen. It will make all the difference.
Liquidity
Kerry Livgren
Odyssey Into The Mind's Eye (1996 Kerygmatic Music)
iTunes here.
I heard this one on classicchristian247.com. Normally I don't get into instrumental stuff, but this one got my attention. (Probably the synth -- I'm a total sucker for a synthesizer.) The song seems to go on for quite a long time, yet as it starts to wrap up one starts to feel sad that it's over already -- it's so beautiful. And Liquidity is the perfect name for it -- it all flows and sinks and blends and eddies and drapes itself nonchalantly over everything and yet the underlying beat keeps the silky quality from slowing it to a stall. It's fantastic.
I listened to this the other day at about 2 am and accidentally choreographed most of the ending before I realised it. So then, of course, I stayed up till 3 am writing down the choreography so I wouldn't forget it. (I think it was even a dance night too -- meaning I had to be up at 7.30 the next morning for dance class.)
Sometimes this song almost makes me think of White Heart -- something Mark Gersmehl might have come up with (and come on, can you not see Billy Smiley rocking that guitar interlude?).
Liquidity
Kerry Livgren
Odyssey Into The Mind's Eye (1996 Kerygmatic Music)
iTunes here.
I heard this one on classicchristian247.com. Normally I don't get into instrumental stuff, but this one got my attention. (Probably the synth -- I'm a total sucker for a synthesizer.) The song seems to go on for quite a long time, yet as it starts to wrap up one starts to feel sad that it's over already -- it's so beautiful. And Liquidity is the perfect name for it -- it all flows and sinks and blends and eddies and drapes itself nonchalantly over everything and yet the underlying beat keeps the silky quality from slowing it to a stall. It's fantastic.
I listened to this the other day at about 2 am and accidentally choreographed most of the ending before I realised it. So then, of course, I stayed up till 3 am writing down the choreography so I wouldn't forget it. (I think it was even a dance night too -- meaning I had to be up at 7.30 the next morning for dance class.)
Sometimes this song almost makes me think of White Heart -- something Mark Gersmehl might have come up with (and come on, can you not see Billy Smiley rocking that guitar interlude?).
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