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Our Poet Laureate, Paul Hertelendy, has just returned from a trip to Europe, during which he composed this week's verse. His poetic impressions will continue next week. |
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Of La Gridlocque  of TheColumnists.com The best ballet I saw in France? A lively matinee that came to life at Paris' Opera--- Not on stage, but on the massive square out front, Played out in open air; Admission price: cafe au lait at nearby sidewalk table.
Look! Emerging from the wings both left and right, and perfectly aligned, Were solid lines of most impatient cars That overwhelmed the intersection In allegro tempo, Just enough that crossing traffic only penetrated Half-way through to form a perfect box formation. Escalating ballet's classic Pas de Six to Pas de Sixty, All abruptly stopped in yet another trademark Gallic dance step You could call la Gridlocque.
What began so silently evolved In choruses of horns, atonal symphonies in Morse code, filling air As though
the sound might dissipate the elegance of Several minutes passed, and all abruptly disengaged, unlocking, Going several separate ways, as if by magic wand. The cycle then repeated, just like clockwork, Mustering again, again, again.
The scoring struck me very one-dimensional, But cyclic choreography?? A French invention nonpareil, A movement that could revolutionize The world of dance that's painfully predictable These days with flying arms and legs That leave the jaded patrons cold and bored.
Glad to say, you still can catch the Paris spectacle--- The run's indefinite, performances provided every day. And it's hugely popular---They say the show's been running Over 50 years and still comes off With grand pizzazz and impact, Though
the casts have passed through infinite rotations. |