Last night, I saw the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Company dance at Prospect Park with Nancy and Michelle. Iâ€™ve always wanted to see Bill T. Jones performâ€”the few times Iâ€™ve seen him speak (okay, the one time on PBS, when he was doing a dance project for people who were dealing with fatal illnesses), he struck me. First off, heâ€™s a stunning man and he speaks like a poet, he really feels his words, so it was great eagerness I schlepped to his free performance.
The only exposure Iâ€™ve had to modern dance is through my pal Kirsten, who is a dancer/choreographer among a million kabillion things, and Bill T. Jonesâ€™s stuffâ€™s kinda reminded me of her dancesâ€”weird, baffling, mysterious but also exciting. I donâ€™t understand it, but I like it. As an audience, Iâ€™m always, duh, why that text with that move there? There was a lot of this wild stop/go thing, like the dancers are changing their mind mid-sentence, and then drive forward in a completely different direction/pace/idea. This would never occur to my body, as I have barely mastered the side to side bop, with some finger snapping, and am still progressing with my pop and lock.
Man, all those dancers worked hard, sweating, contorting in un-average positions seemingly without effort. I always wonder about their lives off-stage, if they like the touring, to come to non-home places to sweat your buns off and dance your heart out and move on, if they feel as free as they look (I do one set of sit-ups and Iâ€™m ready lie down). And then Bill T. Jones comes out shirtless, and dude, this guy is no spring chicken, but still ripped. Heâ€™s actually more ripped b/c heâ€™s old man-ripped. You can see the years of practice in his muscles, each clearly defined, and his frigginâ€™ 10-pack. My first thought was Bill T. Jones could make millions selling Tae-Bo videos.
Nancy now wants to start a dance company, and although I donâ€™t dance or choreograph well, I am allowed to join and started practicing my modern dance moves immediately on the subway ride home.