Last night I learned that, for my enjoyment of dance to be at its fullest, there needs to be an approximate run time printed in the program. I knew there were multiple pieces, and "Esplanade" was presented in multiple sections. I didn't know how long the evening was gonna run, and "Esplanade" was a pretty long piece. After the dancers finished their bows and the curtain went down, I was getting ready to leave when I realized that the rest of the audience was staying put. Instead of settling in for another three pieces, I felt like I was being forced to sit through three more interminable pieces. This wasn't fair, as I like to think of myself as a good audience member, but I need to know what I'm getting into, and I sat down to watch "Rite of Summer" in a decidedly grumpy mood.
I noticed that my behavior as a dance spectator was different from when I go to see plays. When watching theatre, I laugh, loudly and often, because I feel that it's appropriate and I want the actors to know I'm enjoying myself. But there was a point in "Esplanade" when one of the dancers went running across the stage on a diagonal, with an enormous smile on her face. I burst out laughing, and immediately covered my mouth, embarrassed. It was okay to make quiet, appreciative noises, during an especially impressive physical feat, but I felt that laughter would in some way ruin the moment.
The last thing I noticed was that I am much more susceptible to pieces with a strong narrative structure. While I felt myself drowning in the first piece, I was immediately interested in "Rite of Summer" because of the strangeness of the props and costumes. For me, the highlight of the night was "Straight Duet," both for the acrobatics of the two performers and for the inherent storyline that I put over their movements. It was a simple story, to be sure, but the dancers created some beautiful images through which I was constantly interpreting and reinterpreting the story.
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