I think we learn to love what has been lovingly shared with us. I saw my first dance performance when I was ten. My Aunt Terry took me to the New York City Ballet. Third row center. Suzanne Farrell, Edward Villella, Gloria Govrin. Time suspended, held by a leap, exquisite motion, embodied metaphor.
I have always loved dance. Always wondered what it would be like to have my body be the direct expression of story telling. No words in between, no sorting for synonyms or similes. Direct movement – direct expression my own physicality finding form. I neither sing nor dance- I write, but I have always longed for what seems that more honest articulation of whatever it is that resonates inside us pushing to manifest in some form of what we call art.
Last night I went to see Alvin Ailey. Almost fifty years since the first time I was mesmerized watching Judith Jamison dance, since the first time I saw, no felt is more accurate, Revelations. I have seen Ailey perform on tour and in New York at least ten times. But each time there is something new, even if the pieces are ones I have seen before.
When I first realized Revelations was on the program I admit I thought hmm, not again, but as soon as it started, it rose up in me and swept me with it. It took me back to the first time I saw time suspend in motion, spirit embodied in movement that seems not to move. I was again that young girl, filled up with wonder. I can’t wait to share this with my grandsons.