Our year in photos

Every December I make a month-by-month year-in-review update to tuck into the Christmas cards we send to all our friends and family this time of year.   Today as I dropped a nice, big stack of holiday cards into the post office box, I thought it would be fun to start a new holiday tradition celebrating another year of working with alight. I hope you enjoy our first annual alight year-in-review photo gallery.  Lots of people like to do retrospectives things like this during that first week of January, but I think the holiday season is all about taking time to reflect on where you’ve been and we’re you’re headed. So, this is where we’ve been this year.  We hope you enjoy taking a glance back with us as we are already busy preparing for our first performance of the new year on January 21, 8pm and January 22, 4pm at Dance Place.   See you soon?

Our day in photos

M. Cardoso & S. Kramer in Speechless at Project Dance DC

Special thanks to Gregory Miller, husband of alight dancer Heather Creek, for these amazing shots of us performing on the outdoor Sylvan Theater stage with Project Dance DC on Saturday, August 20 along with about 100 other dancers from all over the country. It was so hot out there that the black dance flooring on the stage was practically melting, but the dancers managed to give a beautiful performance despite the crazy conditions. Not sure how Greg got such great shots out there in the sun and elements, but it was a treat to get photos in the my inbox. Enjoy!

M. Cardoso, H. Cameron & H. Creek in Speechless at Project Dance DC

H. Creek in Speechless at Project Dance DC

M. Warren & L. Cisneros at Project Dance DC

H. Creek, M. Cardoso & H. Cameron in Speechless at Project Dance DC

M. Warren & L. Cisneros in Speechless at Project Dance DC

M. Cardoso at Project Dance DC

M. Cardoso & S. Kramer at Project Dance DC

M. Cardoso & S. Kramer at Project Dance DC

C. Jordan & S. Kramer at Project Dance DC

M. Warren & L. Cisneros at Project Dance DC

The morning after…

For a few more minutes, it is still 9.11.2011.  Since I woke up this morning, I’ve been aware that I know what day it is. I know why this day matters, and, like so many others, I listened to President Obama, former President Bush and Mayor Bloomberg reflect on the weight of this day at this morning’s memorial service in New York City. I listened as the names of the victims of the 9.11 attacks were read aloud by loved ones who mourned them. As they paused for the first moment of silence at 8:46am, I wept.  Really wept.  Maybe you did too.

The Flatiron Building in NYC where my husband, Ben, worked when we both lived on Manhattan 9.11.01

Like every American of over a certain age, I remember 9.11.2001 in quite vivid detail. Like you, I have my own story to tell of that day. I was on my way to teach dance at a small studio on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.  I arrived at the studio and saw just what I expected–lots of eager little girls dressed in their pink leotards and tights ready for their first day of creative movement. But, I also saw something I didn’t expect.  The mothers were all huddled around the small television in the lobby in stunned quiet.  The first plane had just struck.  I didn’t watch. They barely noticed as I took their little girls downstairs into the dance studio. When the second plane it, I was running and jumping with a room full of smiling, giggling little dancers.

I have lots of other memories from that day.  The sky was so blue.  I sat on some rocks in Central Park with my now husband, Ben, watching bomber jets circle overhead Manhattan.  In the middle of the park, it was incredibly peaceful, too peaceful.  That much quiet seems unnatural in a place like New York City. I remember a lot about that day, but it is the morning after that still unnerves me.

I couldn’t go to work. We weren’t allowed back into the Citicorp building yet. I couldn’t go to class. All the places I took class–Cunningham, Limon, Dancespace, Peridance–were all below 14th Street which was blocked off. You couldn’t get past Union Square.  Like most, my life in New York was usually loud, exhausting, a bit on the chaotic side.  Like today, I woke up on 9.12.11 still not understanding what had happened but knowing that it had happened and that it mattered. I felt restless.  I should have been pushing my way onto a subway train, eating my bagel as I walked to class at the Cunningham studio and then racing uptown to get to my admin job at the Martha Graham Center. I couldn’t just sit at home.

Ben and I decided to go down to the Flatiron Building where he worked at the time. And, this is what I remember most about 9.12  The streets were practically deserted. We walked right down the middle of Fifth Avenue with hardly a person or a taxi in sight. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday. It was a bit hazy and smokey, but otherwise in the valley of the streets, between the buildings, it was just quiet.  And, I think that’s why the moment of silence this morning brought that flood of tears. That’s what I remember. Walking slowly down the middle of Fifth Avenue, not saying a word. There was nothing to say and, I just kept thinking, “So, what do we do now?”