The Boston Ballet has done it again: yet another show that’s sure to thrill! Featuring pieces from one of the best choreographers of all time, George Balanchine, ULTIMATE Balanchine is a show filled with passion, intricacy, and brilliance!

If you’re in town, definitely come check it out! The show runs from May 6th to 16th. Students can grab rush tickets 2 hours before each performance at the Boston Opera House for a mere $20. In addition, student groups of 10 or more are eligible for huge discounts up to 50%!

Visit the performance schedule or student specials page for more information.

I arrived back in Boston on March 28th with a suitcase packed full of dance items, a backpack so heavy I had to bend over backwards to accommodate it, and a heart full of determination.

It was the start of productions week for MIT’s Asian Dance Team. Our reputation and future success hinged on this first opportunity to show the MIT community that we were every bit as amazing as our rival groups (DanceTroupe, Harvard’s AADT, and more). As soon as I arrived home, I shot out a half-dozen emails about the week’s rehearsals and fell asleep to the tune of traditional Chinese music. Inspiration for the rough week ahead, of course.

What follows below is a very fragmented but very real account of what happened last week, and why it will probably remain in my mind as the best time I have ever had at MIT. (For the record, all photos in this post are by Brian Chan, and are from the actual day of showcase. Unfortunately, we were too busy capture the essence of rehearsals on camera…)

7:30pm, Monday, March 29th

beeeeep beeeeep beeeeep….

I reached over and smashed the alarm into silence. My after-dinner nap was cut short because of – what else? – dance rehearsal. I stumbled away, shoved everything (ribbons, fans, costumes, drums) into my suitcase, and dashed to the elevators.

• The elevators were broken.
• I used the stairs.
• … it was raining outside.

Once I got to McCormick dance studio, half of the dances were in shambles. Dancers forgot their positions. The ribbon-passing was utterly confusing. No one could count the beats of So Hot properly. The J-pop dance had escaped everyone’s minds over spring break. Festive Medley wasn’t even done.

We stayed there until 11:30pm at night. I screamed “one-and-two-and-three-and-four-and, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT!” until my throat was sore. “Up on your toes, people! DON’T FLAIL YOUR ARMS!”

I nicely reminded everyone that showcase was in a week and they needed to practice. Everyone nicely reminded me that their arms were too sore to continue flicking ribbons around.

I grudgingly dismissed everyone. After I walked down Dorm Row River and arrived safely back in the sanctuary of my room, I buried my face in my hands… and I cried.

8:00pm, Wednesday, March 31st

Thanks to the helpful girls from Dance Revelasian, we have costumes. A rainbow proceeds to vomit itself onto the McCormick dance floor. We practice putting on and taking off our costumes in record time. I begin to wonder how I will perform in the #12 group dance, strip off the green dress-and-vest set and change in 80 seconds for my #14 solo, then immediately change from a pink skirt/bell-sleeve top into a captain jacket and pants for #15.

“Yes, you will have to wear bellydance outfits for #10. No, it’s not skimpy. Just wear shorts underneath.”
“BE MANLY. We’ll get you the hoes sometime soon; you just worry about dancing.”

9:00pm, Thursday, April 1st

Cathy Cao shows up for rehearsal for the first time. We throw her a pair of pink pants and satin shirt and get started. The group dynamic is lethargic tonight, especially since 8.02 has claimed the souls of half our army. With dejected heart, we pack up and leave well before 10pm.

8:00pm, Friday, April 2nd

“Isn’t it sad that the only all-nighter I’m pulling this week is for dance?”
“You put so much dedication into this group.”

Everyone assembles at La Sala. We have a team of three amazing volunteers doing lights for us. Unfortunately, La Sala is huge, the ceiling is high, and it takes seven people to build scaffolding. Lights takes 3 hours to put up. During this time, we are dancing in near-darkness or blinding combinations of white, orange, and blue. The atmosphere is filled with anxiety; dancers hang their costumes in program-order on the metal racks, panicking when a prop is misplaced. It’s difficult to adjust to a new stage with a slippery floor. I nearly fall more than once.

10:00pm, Friday, April 2nd

“We need to do another complete runthrough of the show, to make sure we have the lights set properly. Everyone change back to your first dance’s costume!”

Before long, I forget the time. There is nothing in the room except the music, the dances, and the heavy breathing of emotion and exhaustion. We rehearse the dances over and over. Jeanne cues the music over and over and over as I scream out commands, hitting my iron fan emphatically against my palm to drive the point home.

The timing is completely wrong in Festive Medley; the girls do not know their proper positions during the round-fan portion. I give them 30 seconds to “sort out the issue.” Six rounds later, it clicks. The first success of the night. I exhale. We can do this.

“Cynthia, your solo is so gorgeous!!”
“Thanks!” “Vivian, do you even know what you’re doing for your solo?”
“Nope, not at all. I’ll improv something for now, and we’ll see what happens tomorrow!”

12:00am, Saturday, April 3rd

JUDY, THERE’S NO MORE MANGO SORBET AT LAVERDE’S.

2:00am, Saturday, April 3rd

The Ring Ding Dong dancers can’t grasp the feel of the song, no matter how much I yell, “Be BADASS. Quick movements! On the beat! Toss your head!” So I did what my former teacher once did when we were utterly failing at a song.

“Split into two groups. Group 1, I’m going to film you. Watch yourselves on my camera.”

They did so.

“Now watch Group 2. Can anyone tell me how their rendition of the dance is different?”

“It’s snappy, and each pose is distinct.”
“They’re perfectly in sync.”
“There’s energy!” “There’s feeling!”

Good job, girls. Now you understand the meaning of badass.

We break at 3am on orders to “get a good night’s rest”. Judy and I stay behind to roll on the floor listen to Kpop and hope for the best.

7:20pm, Saturday, April 3rd

“The programs aren’t printing. Why aren’t they printing?”
“Aughhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
“Lindsey, in the case that we don’t get programs… I’ll write down what you should say.”
“Sorry guys, I just had a minor breakdown in my room… nothing serious, of course…”
“You do have mics for us, right?” “Can we practice with our music really quickly?”
“Anyone with a Y chromosome, step out of the room so we can change! NOW!”

8:10pm, Saturday, April 3rd

“We’re starting, guys. I want complete and utter silence in this dressing room. Or else.”

A whirlwind of emotions entwines into each dance. Happiness for Festive Medley. Determination for All the Best to Women. Innocent, pure adoration for Country Courtship. It’s physically and emotionally taxing, but I loved it. The moment I stepped into the light, the music told me what to do. I didn’t have to remember the choreography; the choreography was written in the song, in the story of the music! That night, I clapped louder and smiled bigger than I had ever before at the Institute. I felt the fierceness in every movement, the power of dance.

This was the MIT Asian Dance Team. Though we may only be in our first year, though our dances may be a little simple, though we may not have the technical skills to pull off acrobatic stunts, we have something else. We have hope, we have love for our art, we have friendship and a bond that was strengthened during our 8-hour-long rehearsal.

10:30pm, Saturday, April 3rd

Deafening applause all around: shouts, cheers, calls of “Encore!” Blinding lights, smiles, laughter. It was worth it in the end; the blood, the tears, the sweat… every last bit of it. This was a triumph.

I went to a Boston Pops concert earlier this summer, in June

A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail from the conductor of the Concert Choir (Dr. Bill Cutter), suggesting we attend the performance of the Harvard Summer Orchestra. I had originally planned on brushing it off as an event too far displaced from the MIT campus to attend, but something caught my eye:

… our special guest soloist, oboist, [is] Keisuke Wakao of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

This was news! A member of BSO performing with the Harvard Summer Orchestra? And free admission? This was definitely an opportunity I shouldn’t miss. In fact, the name Keisuke Wakao sounded veeery familiar…

A quick message to my oboist friend confirmed it – Wakao was actually his teacher! Now I was more curious than ever as to what the Harvard Summer Orchestra had in store for me.

So naturally, I strutted out of Sidney-Pacific (my summer sublet) in a pretty skirt and heels, hobbled my way to Central Square station, and wandered around Harvard for a good 10 minutes before I found Sanders Theatre. I ended up missing the first third of the concert (no thanks to a Harvardian who gave us erroneous directions), but I could hear their performance of Bartok’s Romanian Dances through the door – the same Romanian Dances for which I accompanied my sister just months earlier! From what I could hear, they sounded fairly good, so once the piece finished and we were permitted entry, I situated myself at the edge of the row, where I had a direct view of Wakao.

The parts of the program I actually got to hear were composed of Mozart’s Oboe Concerto in C Major and Haydn’s Symphony No. 104. It was quite the interesting experience, not only because Sanders Theatre is gorgeous (Harvard architecture – 1; MIT’s – 0), but because Wakao is really interesting to watch as he plays.

The Good:

• Keisuke Wakao is an amazing performer! Not only is his tone clear and smooth (I didn’t know it was humanly possible to play for such long phrases), but he really gets into the piece by moving around. I know some people frown upon this, but I absolutely love it – it means the musician can connect to his or her respective piece, and thus displays his musicality and understanding.
• Props to the principal flautist! She had some nice solos in Haydn, and – besides Wakao – was one of the few performers in the group to really feel the music.
• The trumpets sounded surprisingly good – I have come to expect them to have wavering/pitchy tones, but the trio here did fairly well!

The Bad:

• The rest of the orchestra was horrifyingly deadpan for the entire performance. I caught many people yawning or zoning off during their measure breaks. I don’t expect them to smile brightly the entire night, but at least they could try to look mildly interested in the solos, right?
• The Violin I’s – a common occurence, I must admit – were playing much louder than was needed in some sections, and sped up quite a bit past tempo in the first movement of Haydn’s Symphony. I even caught the conductor (Judy Zuckerman) flashing a displeased face at the entire section and making it a point to wave her baton in their direction. Ouch.
• The back chairs of the Violin II’s contained a pair of feeble girls who were very clearly faking. What’s worse, since the stage is fairly shallow, they had to be seated on a raised area off to the side, thus exposing their quivering bows and confused looks to the entire audience.

The Ugly:

• I saw two clarinets. I heard none.
• The entire orchestra was flat for all of Haydn’s Symphony. It was doomed from the start, as the tuning itself was definitely flat. It got worse as the song went along, especially when the violins had some harmonies that ended up a bit more dissonant than poor Haydn probably intended.
• Many people were inappropriately attired for a concert. I’m sorry gals, but just because it’s the 21st century does not mean that a white tank top and knee-length black pants (shorts?) are proper clothes for a concert.

Thankfully, the good parts of the concert were more than enough to outweigh the bad (hard to believe, but I’m naturally critical, unfortunately). I ended up having a splendid time, and hopefully this won’t be the last time I get to see Keisuke Wakao in performance =)

Next summer, if you’re around, definitely try to catch the Harvard group’s concert. For all other times of the year, there’s Boston Symphony Orchestra and New England Conservatory :D