Violets are Red

I wish I could have taken pictures of the ballet, I would have blown them up really large and hung them on my double height walls and dreamed little girl dreams of being a dancer. But alas no pictures were allowed so I’ll leave it to the imagination.

My favorite one of the three performances of the night was the revival of Choo-San Goh's "Fives," accompanied by Ernest Bloch's Concerto Grosso No. 1. The imagery was stunning, the dancers were dressed in carmine, almost sanguine red, adding to the illusion, making the dancers seem impossibly taller, exotic, and indistinguishable from one another. The choreography was beautiful and as Sarah Kaufman from the WP put it, “-… [there was an] elegant kinetic balance: A constant pulse in the dancing -- even during extended periods of silence -- but virtuoso moves are judiciously employed. A moment of arcing overhead lifts, for instance, creates a brief, explosive feeling of space and freedom, like a window thrust open.” The dark background with intermittent linear red lights added to the drama and mystery of the performance. It was spectacular. And apparently has not been performed in more than a decade, which makes me feel even luckier to have been there.

I don't really know how to transition from talking about the performance to talking about the audience. It was my first time at the Harman Center and I tried not to set my expectations too high in regards to the attendees. I knew I wouldn't find any fashionable, edgy cosmopolitans in their mid 20s there. I figured it would be mostly middle-aged retirees who were excited to discover the exciting things the city has to offer, and although not my ideal crowd, they would have been great to be around. I was a little surprised to encounter so many bitter people. The couple that sat to my left were extremely rude to me, looked decrepit, smelled like moth balls and criticized the ballet the entire time. During the intermission we decided to go upstairs to the bar/lounge area and were stared down by almost everyone who was already up there, and not a “look-at-those-young-vibrant-fashionable-people-I'm-glad-they're-here stare” but more a “what-the-hell-is-that-girl-doing-wearing-those-bright-blue-socks-and-why-isn't-she-boring-like-the-rest-of-us-type stare.” I know it's Washington, but come on, it was High Lonesome to the music of Beck at the Harman Center, if you're old, you live in the suburbs, drive a van, and you pay $70 to come into the city and watch a modern ballet, I would hope you would at the very least bring an open mind, and hopefully a well ironed jacket.