Anyhoo, yesterday I was so bloated with endorphins and happiness that the only way I could channel my energy was to call my parents and thank them profusely for sending me here. So, parents, here is a public thank you. Why was I so happy? Let me recount the start to my week:
Monday we met Giorgi Rossi. Imagine the guy from "The Master of Disguise" teaching you dance. Giorgi Rossi is a cartoon version of an Italian, which I absolutely mean as a compliment. He says things like, "melt. like the rocks in the whiskey" and "kick your brian out the window, into the garden." By the way, brian is brain. He then acts out each odd analogy. As he scrambles to translate his already bizarre thoughts into English, he ends up with fifteen minute long descriptions that both help and confuse at the same time. He also does the robot. A LOT. His goal is to help us find natural movement and make us "do less." We did muscle building exercises, like sit ups, without using our muscles. We did contact improvisation (which is when you must stay in constant motion while maintaining contact with a partner) without touching. If you're confused, don't worry, so are we. We've now had 2 days (7 hours total) under his tutelage and finally I'm beginning to understand. At least, I really enjoy the befuddlement. I love hearing him talk and I love moving with him. Most importantly, I love that he made me realize that I do not need to understand teachers perfectly at first. Instead, I need to have fun following their method and eventually it just might make sense.
After his class we went into town for our first ballet class. The teacher did not speak one word of English. Not an exaggeration. Luckily ballet terms are universally in French so, while mildly intimidating, she was fairly easy to follow. I am also really good at counting to eight in Italian now. I am really excited to have at least one strict technique class, because, as long as I don't have to wear tights and a leotard, I love ballet. The movements and posture make me feel regal even when I can't lift my leg above ninety degrees. This was the first class we've had with mirrors, and I am proud to say I ignored them completely. As this program is not competitive and the teachers are interested in personal exploration, I am able to focus on personal satisfaction in terms of feeling confident. I do not get nearly as frustrated if I mess up a sequence or if I see that I am not the most flexible because I feel good doing the movements.
This leads me to Ash's class. The best two hours I have had here. I started the class exhausted from Italian class. While calming, Ash's introduction to breathing made me think I could channel my laziness through two hours of calm movement. Boy was I wrong. I am not sure how or when it happened, but all of a sudden we were thumping through the room, flapping our arms, snaking our backs, and rapidly shaking our heads. All at the same time. With bent knees. This class was very reminiscent of my one semester of African Dance, which, for those of you who don't know, involves high energy movement, constant flexion of every part of the body, and extreme facial expressions. Ash's emphasis on creating images and stories to accompany the movement will help me perform, so that the energy does not settle in my body but extends to my face as well. I left that class excited to be sore today. And, thank you to Jake Krakovsky for a much needed massage. I woke up sore but ready for another 3 hours today.
Oh my goodness I completely forgot about the gnocchi. Ignore my earlier restaurant review. The villa's food is better.
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