Choreographer Seth Gertsacov Finds His Truth
by Karen Tortora-Lee on March 5, 2009
Ballet Verite
You know you’re standing next to a writer when: their stance is unassuming, their posture is hunched, and when they move it’s only after hours of being in one spot either typing furiously, day dreaming earnestly, or working out that writer’s block by playing yet another game of computer solitaire. (Hey … don’t put it on the computer it you don’t want me to play it!)
You know you’re standing next to a dancer when: their stance is elegant, their posture is perfect, and when they move it’s by way of a grand jeté, or pas de bourrée. Even when they’re waiting to move, they somehow seem to be shimmering.
Sigh. By definition if you’re reading this then I must be writing it … so I fall into the first category. I was born with a writer’s build: short and squat; good for hunkering down for hours (days if necessary) crammed into a small spot, moving as little as possible and living off my own God-given insulation … goodness knows I could hole myself away and write the great American novel and never starve, just give me some chilled beverages (caffeinated if possible, please) and I’m good to go. Maybe that’s why dancers fascinate me. To see what a body can be when it’s in its most perfect state, and then to further that … to see that perfect body used for artistic expression is to see glory magnified one hundred fold.
