My Anniversary

Although I didn't realize it at the time, my one-year annivesary was yesterday.

No, not that kind of anniversary.

It was that of being a real person, of entering the adult world, of having a professional job, and, ultimately, of growing up.

I celebrated (without actually knowing it) by attending Romeo & Juliet, the ballet, performed by the St. Petersburg Ballet Theatre with Stephanie.

Our ballet theatre experience can be summed up in one word: interesting. Or, from Steph, unique.
Let me explain. (Oh, come on. You knew I would.)

The evening began well enough with pizza at my place, but the pizza (the frozen DiGiorgno kind) failed to rise in the oven, like it normally does, creating a dense, spongy, burnt-cheesy substance that was less than appealing, but which we were forced to eat due to my sparse larder.

After choking that down and rushing to get ourselves ready, Steph and I headed toward BSU's campus.

Our seats were stellar. Of course they were, I chose them at least six weeks ago. I even had enough foresight to make sure we were on the aisle, saving us from the awkward moments of climbing over people and being claustrophobic for the duration of the event.

The moment we sat down, I cringed at the odor emanating from a nearby source. After determining that that it wasn't me, I shifted and leaned in various directions to discover the direction of the waft, finding instead that it was all-pervasive. The odor could be described as a distinctly musty, male body odor, the kind that almost seems like attempts were made to contain it, but it was nonetheless powering through. Because of this unfortunate initiation to the show, I ended up tilting toward Steph and the aisle during the entire first act.

The theatre was warm, I was exhausted, and the ballet was confusing. All of this added up to several moments of head-bobbing and eyes rolling as I struggled to maintain consciousness. How can Romeo & Juliet be confusing? I've studied this story a minimum of four times in my literary career and I've watched various stage productions and films depicting it. Steph determined that when you take a beloved, timeless story and transform it by cutting and adding characters (Queen Mab as Death itself or an evil cat, we're still not sure), removing all WORDS, and adding some unfortunate male ballet costuming, you destroy it for those who love literature, especially Shakespeare. If we had not been so familiar with the storyline, and thus confused by the abscence of the Friar and the Apothecary, and the addition of eight nearly naked dancers in flesh colored bits of clothing, perhaps we could have gotten into the flow of things prior to the second half.

Despite the above strikes against the overall experience, the musical orchestration was phenomenal. And, truth be told, the second half (acts 2 and 3) was much more entertaining and infused with emotion. Juliet turned out to be an extraordinary ballerina, dancing with such conviction and meaning that I began to understand the story once again.

During the intermission, the two people to our left moved to the empty seats directly in front of Steph and I, unknowingly cutting off Steph's view of the stage and forcing her to spend the rest of the show contorted, leaning over into my seat to see around the man's head. Two more people, next to the one's who relocated, left the show entirely and in their place two college students squeezed their way through, stating they'd take their chances that no one would return to reclaim the seats. Those girls spent the second half texting and whispering, and then, at the climax of the entire story, the one next to me got up and asked us to let her through. This not only cut off my view of the final moments of Romeo and Juliet dying in each other's arms, but also the view of those behind us for several rows.

The entire event was somewhat comical--the people around us, the interruptions, the confusion over a story that we both know extremely well, the list goes on. It did not turn us off of ballet altogether, though. In fact, we may try to attend The Nutcracker next Christmas in order to see if there is a difference between our experiences, between Russian and American ballet, between literary stories we love and those we know mostly through music and dance.

That said, I know we both enjoyed it and it completes the list of cultural events that Steph and I planned to do together: an opera, a Broadway musical (not on Broadway, unfortunately, but in Chicago), a ballet. I'm not sure what events should follow, but I'm glad that she and I have shared these moments, both good and bad. We're definitely more cultured than before it all began.