This show wasn't my all-time favourite, of the three other dance shows I have been involved in. And it was shorn of memorable moments that would be retold months afterwards. There was certain blandness to it, perhaps due to the very short runtime of the effort. By definition, it wasn’t a show, but a showcase (if you know the difference, don’t be shy to comment).
I was proud of the performance, only because we had a month’s notice with three unfinished dances to perform. To add to that, two of the pieces were finished the week before the show, and I was absent for one of the rehearsals after the pieces were finished, which gave me 3 rehearsals to perfect what I had already learnt, and incorporate the new bits into the old.
I thought I was doomed, especially coming out of the last rehearsal with no idea which new piece went into which dance. Queue a sleepless night. But I told myself that “fuck it”, just get on there and do whatever you’re doing, even if it is utter rubbish, as hard as you can. It has been drummed into me by my mentor, Jayce, that if you make a mistake, but dancing it hard, you’re a lot less likely to look foolish than making the mistake dancing like a popeye.
I was all 
good then, until the run-through two hours before the show. I performed the crap out of all three dances, and danced them to perfection! As I was taught, again by my mentor, dancing in front of an audience is about performing. By my definition, a performance is a form of expression, presented in a spiritual setting. The problem is this was during the run-through. The other problem was I performed it perfectly, no mistakes… as the three previous shows taught me, that is a bad omen. And so it proved.
Up to that point, I was a mental rock of fortitude, refusing to succumb to the dreaded nerves. After the run-through, I went through six cigarettes in the space of an hour. I was finished! I sat in the changing-room trying to pull myself towards myself, but to no avail. The interminable wait for our first dance was excruciating! During the run-through, the preceding dance felt like it took a minute. Standing there, in that cold passage next to the bathrooms, it felt like it was going to go on all evening!
It finally
ended, and we fell over each other to get on “stage”, which was easy for me because my legs had gone lame due to the “oh shit!” effect (you know, when you can’t move and in your head you’re screaming “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” because the nerves have taken over). It must have been worse for Maroula, because she tripped before we got on stage and hurt her little toe! As you can imagine, I was already freaked out walking on there, mouth dry like I had a budgie in there. But then, there’s always that one arsehole who’s gonna completely fuck up your day! Not surprisingly, that was Jannie. Shuffling my lead legs onto that floor, he screamed “Mozziiiie!”, and in that studio, it felt like I was standing right under a church bell!
But a miracle happened. I got to my spot, hearing and feeling my heart beat through my chest like in the cartoons, my head screaming “oh shit!”, and the music started, and I said to myself, “Mximmm, just fucking dance buddy!” And what do you know?! I fucking danced! I even managed to improvise my solo that had been cruelly taken away from me the day before, and bar one or two mistakes here and there, I was on top of it.
My best performance was saved for the hip-hop routine. Can’t remember any of it, but I was on point! As far as I could tell. We’ll have to wait for the video, which can be pretty damning and humbling.
Due to the mistakes I made, I wasn’t filled with the usual euphoria which accompanies a performance, but I was content. Plus I felt broken! Clearly unfit, I was hurting from head to toe, probably due to the intensity I put into those 3 dances which came in the space of 20 minutes. I wasn’t keen on dancing afterwards, but despite my fatigue and thanks to the booze, I was the last off the dancefloor.
The big show comes in September. I got six dances to prepare for. No excuses, no mistakes! Only a performance… That’s my goal. Should be a motto. Copyright that shit…
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