Quick, quick, before the memories leak out, replaced by routine - 457 bicycle wheel rotations between my house and work, 36 stairs to climb, 4 desks squared off in a small room and endless amounts of keystrokes for five to six hours. If I'm lucky--90 minutes of yoga, 90 minutes of dance and several endearing down-the-hallway glimpses of hallie and allison practicing their salsa routines before they teach class.
Viktor, my hungarian friend, this is precisely why at least some of life must be documented.
The first person I talked to upon returning to Seattle was the barista that works at the coffee shop 25 steps from my house. This person lived in Budapest when he was a kid. It made wonder what web hungary will weave for me here in the PNW.
hold it! the past, the past, that is the focus of this entry.
At Florian, the studio that we rehearsed at for the second half of the residency we met Kati, a beautiful woman who was in charge of organizing several festivals including Tanc Kommando (Dance Commando) a weekend of outdoor dance actions all over the city. On Friday 9/4, we took a short break to watch a group of local dancers perform in front of a schoool in the obuda square. Frist act – middles school girls dressed in sort of naughty sailor outfits doing rhythmic gymnastic tricks to Missy Elliot’s ‘Everybody Lose Control.” It was confusingly provocative.
Second act – about 8 college-aged dancers in sweats strutted out and started doing what we assumed was a traditional Hungarian folk inspired dance that kind of reminded me of Riverdance. The tension between the outpouring high school students and the dancers exposing their vulnerable contemporary selves was building and I left to go to my favorite place to get espresso in a plastic cup that I could take back to the studio.
We ran the rough draft of “A Crack in Everything” for the first time later that day for Judit and György, the founder of Trafo. Nervous sweat poured through every inch of fabric on my body underneath Florian's weird florescent lights. At one point in the piece when our solos overlap, I make my way off stage in concrete slow motion for several minutes and I felt was if I was a spunge wringing myself to dry from the inside out. Though I'm sure there are things that improved in the dress rehearsal and shows, to date that run feels like it was the best to me. Judit said she would send feedback and Gyorgy said almost nothing about the piece. I may be totally off base, but culturally it seems like there is no bullshitting in Hungary, no compliment comes undeserved, or congratulations on how hard you've worked or how much you have put yourself out on a limb.
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