Beaming Father Time
May. 26th, 2011 12:52 amAbout twelve years ago or so, we enrolled our darling daughter in some kind of combined dance class (ballet and tap!) in a flailing attempt to see just what this strange new person would be interested in. As near as we could tell, "dance" wasn't it.
She turned out to be a math whiz. This should surprise nobody who knows me, but plenty of people who know
tamidon.
But something weird happened when we sent her off to high school: she got back into dance.
But not ballet or tap, no, she likes to perform Modern Dance. "Modern" as in Martha Graham, so the kind of Modern that goes back ninety years (as opposed to the kind of Modern that only goes back fifty years).
Do I understand Modern dance? I can recognize it. "I know what I like." But most of it goes over my head.
My daughter's dance was the first of tonite's program, along with seven of her closest friends. More seriously, her best friend at school was her other half in one of her pairing-offs, and they rolled over each other while standing at one point.
Another major difference (besides active willing participation) from her earliest dances on stage is the fact that she not only has a little sister with a bouquet of flowers to give her after the show, she also has a boyfriend who convinced his mother to drive him there so he could see it as well. His assessment: "I had no idea what to expect coming in, but I liked everything I saw". This was apparently the right answer, as my daughter gave him one of her roses for it.
(As it would be the height of rudeness to duck out after my daughter's performance, I saw about 45 minutes of more Modern dance after hers. Some of it was the same old cross between an Olympics gymnastics floor routine and a pretentious game of charades. But some of it was very emotive, and a couple of them got me to intake my breath sharply, so I guess I'm still not a stone.)
She turned out to be a math whiz. This should surprise nobody who knows me, but plenty of people who know
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But something weird happened when we sent her off to high school: she got back into dance.
But not ballet or tap, no, she likes to perform Modern Dance. "Modern" as in Martha Graham, so the kind of Modern that goes back ninety years (as opposed to the kind of Modern that only goes back fifty years).
Do I understand Modern dance? I can recognize it. "I know what I like." But most of it goes over my head.
My daughter's dance was the first of tonite's program, along with seven of her closest friends. More seriously, her best friend at school was her other half in one of her pairing-offs, and they rolled over each other while standing at one point.
Another major difference (besides active willing participation) from her earliest dances on stage is the fact that she not only has a little sister with a bouquet of flowers to give her after the show, she also has a boyfriend who convinced his mother to drive him there so he could see it as well. His assessment: "I had no idea what to expect coming in, but I liked everything I saw". This was apparently the right answer, as my daughter gave him one of her roses for it.
(As it would be the height of rudeness to duck out after my daughter's performance, I saw about 45 minutes of more Modern dance after hers. Some of it was the same old cross between an Olympics gymnastics floor routine and a pretentious game of charades. But some of it was very emotive, and a couple of them got me to intake my breath sharply, so I guess I'm still not a stone.)