in other news, one of my favorite choreographers from BDC, sheryl murakami, has a whole piece to "peacock," a retarded song (retarded), floating around the web, featuring some of my favorite dancers from bdc. above dexter carr - only kid who could wear turquoise doc martens in summer time. he is a beautiful gumby, and rarely smiles when performing. thank you... they're young, OUT, talented, charmed, and allowed to dance to whatever fucking katy perry song they want to. this piece of hers is so exemplary of her choreography in its thrashy, slutty, overt nature...its bigness! of elbows and hips and walks. she owns everything about herself, from how she dresses to what she says to how she moves. at bdc she has hoards of followers hanging on her every affect, her every attitude, every word slightly left of normal. i know they repeat what she says at school. there is a "way" about this population of young dancers that i've been meaning to write about. it spans from sf to nyc. later. the first class i took with her at bdc she paused, and while walking from right stage to left she said to the class, "now get it right or i'm gonna slap your vag...."happening. 45th and 8th avenue, every day. i am so envious of these kids. like, envious...
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