Return of Memoryfest - Day 24/31
Hrrrrrrmmmmm. Wiped out. My fingers are slurring on the keys here. Thank goodness for Backspace.
In honor of the activity that sapped me energy [insert brogue here], a memory about the first time I encountered Irish dance. elynittria, I know you’ll have something to share on this one. :)
24. High School
My mom, as has already been mentioned here somewhere, is in a band. It has gone through several iterations since its inception about ten years ago. During its first (when they went by The Logarhythms) or second (The Log Jam) variation, the three or four of them were practicing in our living room. They were great in performance but they could sound awful during practice sessions, and with the amps hooked up they were noisy, so after pleasantries my dad, my sister and I would escape to various parts of the house to hear ourselves think.
That particular night, I went up to my parents’ bedroom--the furthest you could get from the living room without being outside--and clicked around on TV. When I hit one of the PBS stations, I found myself mesmerized by a line of dancers in pretty, dark bodysuits and tights, tapping away on a stage, moving in complete synchrony to a hyped-up version of the sort of Celtic music I used to hear on the radio on weekends, while one sweaty man with an undersized shirt and oversized ego did solo bravado moves in front of them. They broke for intermission/pledge drive, and I found out that I was watching a recording of Lord of the Dance, starring the now-infamous Michael Flatley. I’d heard of Riverdance--my favorite teacher P. had spoken highly of it--and I think I'd listened to some of the music before catching that night’s program, but I hadn’t had any idea how marvelous that sort of thing was to watch.
I remember lying there on my stomach on my parents’ bed, just thrilled by the whole spectacle. Although I didn’t know much about dance, the rhythms were complex, the music was catchy, and the movements were alien and fascinating and beautiful. And that sound their hard shoes made when the whole ensemble stepped together--that tapping, stomping, clicking, sliding, wet noise...
I know it’s a cliché now to say you got into Irish dance because of Michael Flatley, but I was hooked.
Our instructor announced tonight that this year’s feis (dance competition) is going to be at the end of March, at my high school, like the last one. Every time something notable like this comes up, I think fondly back on that night in front of the TV and smile at the procession of events over the years that led me here.
In honor of the activity that sapped me energy [insert brogue here], a memory about the first time I encountered Irish dance. elynittria, I know you’ll have something to share on this one. :)
24. High School
My mom, as has already been mentioned here somewhere, is in a band. It has gone through several iterations since its inception about ten years ago. During its first (when they went by The Logarhythms) or second (The Log Jam) variation, the three or four of them were practicing in our living room. They were great in performance but they could sound awful during practice sessions, and with the amps hooked up they were noisy, so after pleasantries my dad, my sister and I would escape to various parts of the house to hear ourselves think.
That particular night, I went up to my parents’ bedroom--the furthest you could get from the living room without being outside--and clicked around on TV. When I hit one of the PBS stations, I found myself mesmerized by a line of dancers in pretty, dark bodysuits and tights, tapping away on a stage, moving in complete synchrony to a hyped-up version of the sort of Celtic music I used to hear on the radio on weekends, while one sweaty man with an undersized shirt and oversized ego did solo bravado moves in front of them. They broke for intermission/pledge drive, and I found out that I was watching a recording of Lord of the Dance, starring the now-infamous Michael Flatley. I’d heard of Riverdance--my favorite teacher P. had spoken highly of it--and I think I'd listened to some of the music before catching that night’s program, but I hadn’t had any idea how marvelous that sort of thing was to watch.
I remember lying there on my stomach on my parents’ bed, just thrilled by the whole spectacle. Although I didn’t know much about dance, the rhythms were complex, the music was catchy, and the movements were alien and fascinating and beautiful. And that sound their hard shoes made when the whole ensemble stepped together--that tapping, stomping, clicking, sliding, wet noise...
I know it’s a cliché now to say you got into Irish dance because of Michael Flatley, but I was hooked.
Our instructor announced tonight that this year’s feis (dance competition) is going to be at the end of March, at my high school, like the last one. Every time something notable like this comes up, I think fondly back on that night in front of the TV and smile at the procession of events over the years that led me here.