These dance shoots are so lovely to do. The kids are great, it’s creative, and it takes me back to my youth when I had dreams of being dancer. Of course, I was never really any good and had about one year’s dance training in total, but one can dream, right? So now, when the kids come to the studio for some pics of themselves dancing, or in dance poses, I can get right in there again. I can feel my muscles twitch and murmur ‘Come on, you old duck, shake that booty!’
In her documentary, Annie Liebowitz discusses trying to photograph dance and comes to the conclusion that it cannot be photographed. Well, one might argue that Annie is miscalculating the brilliance of her shots, which capture the dancers’ bodies and movements exquisitely, but she is right: it is extremely difficult to bottle the alchemy of the dance, and it is probably best left to be enjoyed live.
Getting to the shoot was chaos. As I was ready to leave, I realised that I had lost my studio keys. Shrieking ‘What’s wrong with me and KEYS?’ I turned the house upside down and inside out. Every bag, pocket, cupboard, drawer was turned out and tipped out, contents flung about. Frantically rummaging, we searched under the couches (several times), in the car (several times), even in the bathroom, the fridge and the stove. Nope. Nowhere.
And my models were waiting outside the studio. I tried suggesting an outdoor shoot, which I think would have been beautiful, and I’m going to try and convince someone to do that for me soon, but they really wanted studio shots.
We eventually gave up the search for the studio keys (they’re still missing), and set up in a hall elsewhere. Luckily I had all my studio kit at home and not locked in the studio, so I could set up anywhere.
Quite makeshift, rushed and stressful. But then it all came together in the end. It always does. The kids had fun, I had fun, and we all like the pics.
And this morning I took my stiff body off to a Nia class. Aahhh. What fun! I have a blister under each big toe, which won’t make my training for the Big Walk any easier, but I feel refreshed and energised, even if I’m no longer entertaining dreams of becoming a famous dancer (or a dancer of any variety). And, no, you won’t see me queueing up to audition for ‘So you think you can dance?’!
By the way, if anyone knows of a gadget that I can attach to my keys that can sense when I am more than a metre away from them, and so starts to wail, please let me know!