Last night, Nathalie and I braved the heat and humidity to attend an outdoor dance event at the French Cultural Institute. I’m glad we did. It was the first culture I’ve experienced since I left New York nearly three months ago. That’s a long stretch to be without.
The dance was an homage to Maurice Bejart by the company Jant-bi de Germaine Acogny. The dance itself was brilliant. Performed at the highest technical expertise by three masterful men, it defied gender definition. It pulled me into the rhythm, demanded my attention, made me forget the day’s frustrations.
It was just downright wonderful being in the audience, sharing the experience of beautiful expression. The mosquitoes had gone to feast on someone else. The humidity evaporated. The air cooled. The house was full. We were sitting under a nearly full moon, which bathed the audience and stage in spectral white when the lights were dark. That would have been enough for me. But the evening concluded with a fantastic presentation to the choreographer, Germaine Acogny, who received the medalle de Commandeur des Arts and des Lettres from the French Ambassador.
It was a perfect evening for her and a perfect evening for me.
Sounds fantastic.
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