The next time you consider cracking your head open in hopes of funnelling your brains and gifts and schemes into something fulfilling and useful, the next time you mull over metaphorically slitting your wrists in a poetic last-ditch attempt to bleed the talent out of yourself for everyone to see, please listen to Artie Shaw's "Begin the Beguine."
It's a blue skies, easy jazz tune, not something that cooks too hot or too quickly. The first time I heard it, or the first time it meant something to me, was when I was fifteen years old. I still had braces. I was cast in a two-dancer 40s jazz piece set by Dr Mark Gibbs, who was never satisfied. He was a notable American dancer who performed throughout Europe until he retired, at which point he became a medical doctor. He was a lonely sort of smart, and unbelievably demanding. He drilled Ellie and me into the floor with proper physical execution and musical phrasing, and the best we ever got through countless rehearsals was, âItâs a little better.â
Iâm impressed he asked so much of us. As a teacher and choreographer now myself, I recognise how easy it is to sacrifice your vision for shapes and habits which come more naturally to your dancers, how easy it is to meet your dancers where they are rather than pull them somewhere in the middle. We need more choreographers who work like, and as much as Dr Gibbs.
The performance arrived and ended. Lots of little things went a little awry onstage, but thatâs part of the alchemy, innit? Turning something off balance into something vulnerable, worthy. At the post production gala, a genial, well-dressed gentleman approached me. He was just a man from the surrounding community, a fellow with no family or friends as my classmate. âYou know something, kid? I made my first donation to the arts today because of you.â I glowed. We need patrons. âYou look like youâre having the time of your life.â I was. I still am.Â
I want to do something great, for the Good. I know you do, too. Thatâs why I ask you to give this song a listen.
Whenever I hear âBegin the Beguineâ, the tension which I carry between my shoulder blades and brain stem relaxes a little. You most likely change the world all the time, in the littlest ways, in the most unexpected moments. Sometimes, if youâre lucky, while doing something you love. I hope this song gives you blue skies.
Prior to the performance, our rehearsals ran later than everything else at the studio, so weâd often all carpool back to Petaluma. His car was funny because I wouldnât come to recognise the interior decoration until I was a professional dancer myself. All the elements are now familiar: Garlands of empty coffee cups, scattered bouquets of ibuprofen, wreathes of warm up clothes, and so, so many shoes. Once or twice it was just Dr Gibbs and me for that car ride. During one particularly traffic-laden trek, he ventured to ask what I wanted to do with my life. When we ask this question, weâre referring to the only question an aspiring dancer faces: College or company?
I told him I wanted, and intended, on having both in my life. It was no secret for me. He made no effort to conceal his skepticism. I didnât mind too much, as doubt is normally a splendid motivator. Soon I hopped out of the car, hope little dented by our discussion. Weâd rehearse again tomorrow.
At the post production gala, Dr Gibbs himself sought me out, maybe only after consuming a favorable amount of wine. âIâve never seen you dance,â he breathed in a voice Iâd never heard. I assume he meant, in anything else but his own piece. âIn the Swan Lake excerpt. You lead well with your sternum.â Though vague, I devoured the praise. Whatever my sternum had to do with it, Iâm thankful. âYou know what?â he hushed, leaning forward. âIf you play your cards right, I bet you can have both.â Both. College and company, books and ballet. Both, if you play your cards right.
To this day, I couldnât tell you what Dr Gibbs meant in playing oneâs cards right. There is no one way, of course, but at the time I believed he had arcane knowledge, tricks up his sleeve from dancing through Europe and finishing med school.
I doubt he had in mind whatâs become my journey in both! But I canât say Iâve played my cards wrong.
Thereâs no one way. Just keep playing.
