giselle

Today, finally, I felt back enough to want to push, to not just be tired and sore but to want to make myself more sore, to do each step exactly so, to create muscle memory deep under my shoulder blades to know exactly how to cross my arms in front of my chest in precisely the way that has epitomized Giselle for over a century and a half.  Day 3.  Not so bad after three months off.

The story, for my non-ballet-aficionados, is centered around a peasant girl, Giselle, and her love, Albrecht, who is a Duke or a Prince or some kind of fancy pants, pretending to be a peasant in order to win Giselle's heart.  Hilarion, an actual peasant dude, also has the hots for Giselle, and figures out Albrecht's secret and reveals him as a much better catch than anyone ever thought (though, um, he also happens to be betrothed, oopsies).  Giselle goes mad, and kills herself.

Act II:  Fog rolls out among the tomb stones.  Giselle has joined the ranks of the Wilis, the ghosts of women who died before their wedding day (the aforementioned dead virgins) under their queen, Myrtha.  Every night, they rise from their graves, and should there be any man who dares trespass, they force him to dance until he dies from exhaustion.  Not the nicest bunch (early feminists, perhaps?).  Hilarion shows up to cry over Giselle's grave, but is driven off by the Wilis (um, not sure if he escapes or just goes off into the wings to die, I'm sure it depends on the version).  Next, Albrecht comes to leave some flowers all nice-like, and is forced to dance and dance and dance -- Giselle, still in love with him (not sure how much we're encouraging necrophilia here, but oh well), dances with him and by herself to distract Myrtha from how much time is passing, until finally the sun rises and the Wilis are forced back into their graves, leaving Albrecht barely alive, and still heartbroken as Giselle disappears.

Heartwarming tale that one ;) Not really a happily ever after kind of tale, but eerily beautiful, and about as well suited for dance as one could possibly wish.  I'll fill you in on how dancing it actually feels in ... two weeks and two days.  Soon.

In other news, I am really liking a lot of the people in the company -- there's a good sense of camaraderie amongst the girls (avoiding pointe shoes together for a long time now), lots of winking going back and forth across the studio already.  And I've found two other vegetarians in the company, so we're already planning an outing to the one major vegetarian restaurant in Toulouse, maybe this weekend.  The family gets home next week, so this weekend will be about finding more little oases in the city and getting to connect with the dancers.

I actually put real makeup on this morning for my head shots before class, which felt very strange, and made me think about a) the last time I wore actual makeup, which was probably for the last show I did in North Carolina and all my people there who are also starting their season this week, and b) the Rogue River, and being so far from silly items like blush and mascara and lipliner that I almost forgot they existed.  I miss that, being out on the river away from news about DSK potentially still being in the running for some powerful political position here and predictions about all the different ways Libya, while better off without Gaddafi, still can royally screw things up.  The river is also partly so wonderful because it is a vacation, a place where you can get away from the stresses and evils of daily life that are weighing on you.... but that doesn't mean they don't exist.  This is the world we live in, evils and joys, and it is only by being out here that we can affect change.  I think. I hope, otherwise, adios, I'm headed back to the river (we might have to bring Dieter.  and a barge for the food. maybe a small cabin. hmm....)  I still haven't figured out exactly how I'm creating all this grand change I'm hoping for, but it's by being out here in the world that most of that figuring happens... though maybe a little river time never hurt either.