It’s been a week since the big show and I still feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. A cement truck, to be exact. With lots of sharp bits that poke out of the wheels.
If you had seen me during the three weeks of Springboard Danse Montréal, you would have believed the truck story. There were bruises and welts on my thighs, hips, lower back, upper back, shins, knees, and an oozing bloody gash on my left elbow. The latter tried to heal each night only to re-open and re-ooze each day during rehearsal while I used that poor little elbow as a pivot point for the floor work. Not by choice, of course.
But now my bruises have faded to yellow, the welts are less angry-looking, and my left elbow gash has closed into a lovely pink patch of rippled skin, like a Ruffle’s chip, where no arm hair will ever grow again*. So, if the damage is no longer visible, shouldn’t my body feel back to normal?
*useful trick for hair removal: become professional dancer.
I’ve spoken with numerous other Springboard participants and they are in accord. We are tired. Spent. Depleted. Done. It’s done, Sheila.
Jet and I took ballet class with one of Montreal’s leading contemporary dance companies last week.
“Why am I so tired?” She asked me. “I’m not doing anything. I just take class.”
“I feel the same way! I’m pooped. It must be the come-down after Springboard.”
“Must be.”
Benoit phrased it a bit differently.
We were on our way to rehearsal with Breez, both of us groaning and moaning, when Benoit stopped walking, cocked a hip, and said, “I don’t know about you, but this bitch needs a break.”
He looked at my confused expression and explained, “I’m bitch.”
I laughed for at least five minutes and entered rehearsal with a big smile on my face.
Three of us from the Springboard project are working on Breez’s next show: Benoit, Canine, and me. I’ve been working for Breez for two years and performed this piece last year so it wasn’t too difficult, mentally. Physically, however… oy vei.
An ordinary Springboard day looks like this:
10h-11h30 ballet training
12h30-16h30 rehearsal with established choreographer
17h-19h rehearsal with emerging choreographer
Add to that:
19h30-21h30 rehearsal with Breez
And that was my daily schedule, Monday to Friday.
I would get home close to 23h and eat a plate of cheese, bread, vegetables, maybe some meat, and a monstrous chocolate something. Then I would talk to The Rock on Facetime until I fell asleep with the iPad on my face.
“Don’t worry, ma belle. I will be home next week to take care of you,” he said each night. “You will be less tired because I will make you lunch and dinner; I will do the laundry; I will ice your ankles. And you just have to do dance. Ça te va?”
“Oui, ça me va, mon amour. That would be perfect.”
I couldn’t wait for my wonderful man to return from Manic 5 (his paramedic post in northern Québec). Not because he promised to do the household chores, but because I needed his love and support and his humour to get me through the long days. Even from 9 hours away, he was making me laugh and smile.
One ordinary Wednesday morning I walked into Les Grands Ballets studios and flashed my ID card as usual.
“Emily Finkelstein?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh!” She looked at me as if she had been waiting all morning to meet me. “J’ai quelque chose pour toi.”
Slightly confused, I waited at the desk while she rummaged through the pile of boxes and papers behind.
“Voila!” She turned around and presented me with an enormous bouquet of flowers including two pie-sized sunflowers looking at me expectantly.
“Sunflowers! My favourite!”
“Open the card! Open the card!” the receptionist demanded when she saw that my enthusiasm matched or exceeded her own. “C’est de qui?”
“I already know who it’s from. There’s only one person who would do this for me. He’s crazy!” I laughed.
“C’est ton anniversaire, non?”
“No, not at all. He just wanted to make me smile.”
“Wow, t’es chanceuse. Gardes le.”
“Yes, I know I’m lucky. And don’t worry, I plan to keep him.”
A couple days later The Rock sent me a video. A homemade music video about wearing sunscreen. This accomplished two goals:
- He proved that he listens when I tell him to wear sunscreen
- He made me laugh until my abs burned.
- (He looks really good shirtless)
The Rock got home in time to help me through my last week of Springboard and see the big show. His opinion as a well-known Montreal (and Canadian) dancer was very important to me. To be honest, I was more nervous to hear his critique than that of the company directors and important choreographers who would comprise the audience. My parents were also in the audience that night, having flown in specifically for the show and to spend the weekend with The Rock and me.
At the end of the show, I found my parents and my man chatting in the lobby.
“Great show!” my Dad said. “But there was this one girl that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. She stole the show.”
“Oh, daddy.” I knew he was talking about me because I’m his daughter.
“What? I’m serious. She was the best one. But maybe next time they could let you get up off the floor.”
I laughed. It was true. There was a lot of floor work in the two pieces where I was cast.
Mum agreed with my Dad’s compliments and then I looked expectantly at The Rock.
“T’as très bien fait, ma belle.”
Okay, positive result. But I needed more.
I mingled with the dancers, directors, and choreographers at the reception but I was distracted by my need to know exactly what The Rock thought of my performance.
Around midnight, the two of us were alone eating burgers at Frites Alors. I looked at him across my spicy mayo fries and waited patiently.
“To be honest, ma belle, I agree with your father. You were great tonight. Really really great. To be honest, you impressed me a lot. In this style, moving the way you did tonight…I couldn’t do that. You’re so musical and precise. I love it. I’m really impressed.”
Yes!! Weehooo!!! Yahooooooo!
I was elated.
Now that my boyfriend is impressed by my dancing, it’s time to impress some directors and choreographers. Springboard is over but I have amassed a lot of knowledge, made some good contacts, and I had a valuable experience. En plus, I have three shows coming up with Breez.
Yes, I’m tired.
And yes, I need a break.
But this bitch has work to do.
List of #’s:
Days until The Rock and I return to Manic 5 together: 4
Days we spent with my parents: 3.5
Days spent with Rocky’s family who visited Montreal: 4
Jobs received from Springboard: to be determined.
Dance Diary 