Golden & Silver Excesses

Zero Tolerance

I am still in the midst of conjuring an enormous bao-zha for the trip to Australia. In the meanwhile... let's talk about Arranca En Fa - our performance at Hard Rock on May 25th and LADC on May 28th.

Lemme get this off my chest: I feel absolutely fucking terrible about it. In my head, people are saying, "What the hell is that guy doing on stage with that hilarious scrunched-up face, flailing around with zero posture and style? Want to perform, jolly well get your act together before you step on the fucking dance floor!"

Granted, I shouldn't blame myself completely. When I returned from Australia, everything was more or less settled with the perfect set of 6 partners (see, the Rueda routine rotates perfectly so that everyone ends up with their starting partner). All they had to do was clean up their expressions and smaller movements - there was no space for me to butt in. So, in the days leading up to the performance, I spent most of the rehearsals sitting it out.

Of course, "shit happens": Luwyn came down with the flu the day before the performance. So for that day's rehearsal, I stand in for Luwyn - and well, I think I can do the routine. But do I make it look good? That's a question I never managed to answer, because by that point we were "facing the wall", ie. no using the mirror to spot your mistakes. So I never got to see my flailing head and wobbly torso. (Now I know why Adeline called me a seaweed last time.)

May 25th, 8pm: I'm like, phew Luwyn's here I'm safe! (my partner, Pei Ling would probably have felt a lot safer also haha) But Luwyn insists that I take over him; he says since he's wasn't feeling 100%, I might as well try, and if I don't perform now, I probably would never perform with the Dragones before I leave for the US... Obviously, Dr. Leo's logic won me over and I foolhardily agreed to do the performance at Hard Rock (nevertheless I still thank Luwyn heartily for the opportunity to experience all this). After all, I didn't really screw up the choreography and succeeded with the big stunts, so what could go wrong?

So much. So much could go wrong, even if I managed to keep my partner safe... Enough said about the posture. My face... can you imagine what's going on in my head? If you've known me long enough you'll know I'm not the smiliest of persons; faking a smile for anything other than photos is one of the most excruciating things you could put me through.

I don't know how Fadzli does it. He doesn't know either, he says - but probably he just simply, truly enjoys himself, the way Lionel advised us. I want to enjoy myself, sure, but... even in social salsa, I don't find myself smiling all the time. Of course, I can always try to blame it on a lousy follow... but it's still my fault, isn't it? And definitely this reasoning can't apply to performance team girls. That night, I tried my damnedest to plaster a smile on my face... but it kept fading. This ain't Pei Ling's fault at all, of course - her awesome performance probably balanced up the shitty things I brought to the table.

I just couldn't hold that smile. Why? Stress? Inexperience? Fatigue? (Yeah right, Mr. "HARR-Why-are-all-of-you-going-home-so-early?!" Clearing-Leave-so-can-wake-up-at-12pm-everyday) Problem is, I don't know. I thought it might have been just that I wasn't very aware of my expression the first time around. Come performance #2 at LADC though, it seemed as though nothing much had changed. Perhaps it was worse because I was performing WITH glasses this time and could see my friends and audience that much clearer. (Note: I have myopia of 400 degrees, and I took off my glasses at Hard Rock. And I don't wear contact lenses!)

None of the criticism about my performance was immediately malicious, but to me... it felt like murder. I felt totally deflated for the rest of the Sunday evening's birthday bash. Is this a permanent character failing, to be unable to take any kind of criticism, constructive or not? I mean, well it really depends on the situation - I can definitely take pointers (aka constructive criticism) about my improper techniques during dance classes, or when we're just mucking around in the studio. But, when it comes to sometime that requires testing of my mettle, such as exams, performances... even decision making, criticise me and you may as well welcome me to funk-land.

Admittedly, I am my own harshest critic - something I realised in Australia with Sherry's help. I can tolerate other people's mistakes, but come to mine and I'll be right there with you flaming me all night (if I don't go drown myself in the Singapore River first). How can I undo this? More practice? Come on, I can't even compel myself to go to the gym and cut away at my flab...

posted by Brian @ 1:57 PM