11 November 2007


The Choreographer’s Tale

I was contemplating a new production and struggling with the closing number when I found all but one of the steps I needed on the beach near sunset, following the tracks of sanderlings crossing and recrossing the surf line. I spent most of that night searching for the missing step but never found it. Decades later my granddaughter showed me her new toy: a tin wind up bird. She set it skittering across the floor. As I watched, the step that had evaded me crystallized in my mind. I closed my eyes and watched my dancers step into the void.


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