Le Corsaire prima

Tonight was the opening night for the Kirov Ballet's production of the pirate swashbuckling ballet, Le Corsaire, playing to a happy, responsive, packed house in the Opera House at the Kennedy Center here in Washington. I'm still bouncing around like an ecstatic manic from getting to dance in the first act. The four of us local "sailors" were practically flying by the seat of our pants, since we were just cast and only briefly rehearsed today, and none of us have done this show before or know the music. The ballet master (talk about hot daddy type!) stood in the wings, though, and shouted instructions to us in Russian, and fortunately, we knew enough of our staging to have some semblance of an idea what he was telling us, and I think we got all of our cues. He looked happy. Spasibo!

Ballets are so different from operas. I was actually sewn into my costume, rather than depending on all the suspenders and snaps and safety pins we have for our opera costumes. In opera, I usually get wigged with these multi-thousand dollar natural hair wigs, but the dancers tonight were wearing wigs of crepe hair! Also, we were encouraged to use really broad, overly dramatic gestures to convey our feelings during the act. I felt a little hammy, but it was kinda fun getting to overact for a change! It was really strange, too, being able to see the people in the seats out in the audience, from the people with their opera glasses in the third level balcony to the formally attired patrons in the box tier to the balletomanes in the orchestra section. And, it occurs to me just now that I can't remember whether I was listening to the orchestra from the monitors in the wings or to the live sound echoing from the house. I was never able to see the conductor, and there were no TV monitors showing him, so it never really occurred to me to notice, at least till now. With the opera, we stay focused on the conductor's stick.

And, phermones, oh, my! Dancers sweat more than opera singers, and the dressing rooms were redolent with Russki phermones! And, I am staged during the principals' pas de deux and solos on top of a barrel up right, and as the premier danseur did his leaps and jumps and spins around the stage, every time he was spinning around in my vicinity, I was showered with a spray of his perspiration.



We got these nifty guest artist back stage passes that we have to use to get in the stage door. I have to think about what I might want to buy from the Kennedy Center Gift Shop, cause I get a 15% discount while my pass is still active, and, if I were driving my car, I'd get a huge discount on parking so it only costs $9 per night. Aren't I spayshul?

Who knows how to speak Russian? I've got to figure out how to communicate with these cute Russian dancer boys. We share a restroom/shower room with the male corps de ballet, and there was a constant parade of boys prancing around to and fro in nothing but dance belts. There's one positively adorable guy who's actually taller than me who keeps flirting with me on stage. There are a couple more who blush when I say hello to them. I only live three blocks from the Kennedy Center, and I've been stocking up on Russian vodkas...... Meanwhile, Leo keeps bringing me Cape Cods with Smirnoff's Triple-Distilled Premium Vodka. We're getting happy.

Now, I just have to get out my ice bag so I can ice and elevate my foot to survive the night and then dance again tomorrow. I'm getting too old for this stuff!