I’ve just proven to myself today – in my personal life, I am definitely one of the world’s biggest cynics. How does that happen? How does one start off in life believing in people and their stories, to getting to the point where you start to question everything and everyone?
When you’ve been let down by someone once, you move on and consider that as a one off; when that one off becomes just about every relationship you’ve ever had in one way or another, you start to think that is just the way it is. Conversely, you question yourself and wonder if it’s all about you.
Questioning if it’s just you then makes you wonder if you’re expecting too much or if you’re just too damn fussy. What I’d like to know is, what is too much to expect? Is it too much to want someone to accept you as you are, believe in you despite your foibles? Is it too much to demand respect, honesty and trust? I certainly hope not. It’s always other people who get it right and I really don’t know what the secret is.
The trouble with being this way is that you go into every situation, every conversation and every potential relationship with low expectations. I guess that might not be a bad thing in some ways, you can only go up from a basement start. However, it’s a really hard thing to battle within your own head; that feeling that it won’t be any good and it’ll only lead to hurt, can hold you back.
The toughest thing is breaking the circuit. Cynicism is only bred out of experience and you can’t delete experiences – they happened, simple as that. It’s not as easy as hitting the backspace button and wiping experiences from you memory. You can choose not to let them cloud your decisions by trying to be positive about every new encounter, but lurking in the background is that element of doubt that rears it’s head and starts ringing alarm bells whenever something seems too good to be true.
No idea what the answer is, or whether there is one. If I find one I’ll let you know, but as with most things, there’s never really a definitive solution to anything. But maybe I think that because I’m one of the world’s biggest cynics!
Over the past few weeks I’ve had the chance to attend two amazing events. Two equally talented individuals, who have been honing their craft for many years, sharing with the audience very special, personal moments.
On Friday 7th October I managed to get tickets for my daughter and I to attend Carlos Acosta’s final classical performance – The Classical Farewell at the Royal Albert Hall, Kensington, London. To say that this was a treat is an understatement – we felt so privileged to be a part of the audience that night. We enjoyed some of the finest classical performances from our favourite ballets, performed by the cream of the Royal Ballet‘s crop of amazing artists, alongside Carlos; the dancer of my daughter’s generation who will inspire her, as my idol Mikael Baryshnikov inspired me in my youth. It was purely magical.
Carlos is a true athlete, a dedicated and disciplined dancer and although I’ll never know him personally, seems to be genuinely good man. He has a passion for dance that is expressed so thoroughly in every performance and the fact that his classical career has now come to an end is truly sad, but equally exciting knowing he is moving onto more contemporary work. After many magical classical pieces including Kenneth MacMillan’s Winter Dreams, Mayerling and Requiem, George Balanchine’s Apollo, Marius Petipa’s Don Quixote he concluded with Memoria by Rambert’s Miguel Altunaga. It was pure, ridiculously perfect and so exciting – a taste of things to come.
When the final piece, Memoria (a contemporary piece choreographed especially for Carlos), was complete, the audience was only too aware that we had just been witness to the last classical performance by the finest male ballet dancer of his generation. It was beautiful and sad. He moved from his final position to a single chair set off centre of the stage, sat down, removed his ballet shoes and placed them in his bag, replacing them with normal, everyday training shoes. A poignant, special, moving moment – I can only imagine what must have been going through this great man’s mind. I sobbed with sadness that his classical career was over, but the sheer excitement of what is to come is something we cannot wait for.
My second event was last night (20th Oct) at the Vaudeville Theatre on the Strand in London’s West End – Dawn French – Thirty Million Minutes. I bought tickets for myself and my friend who had helped me out with a tricky time recently. We were excited about seeing Dawn on stage in this one woman show, but nothing could have prepared us for the story we were to hear .
She started at the very beginning, her life with her family: meeting the Queen Mother, dreams of becoming a ballerina and a pop star, BOYS, stories of angelic and naughty grannies and the day to day life of a family travelling to wherever her father’s position in the armed forces placed them. A family unit that was so strong, yet not without its sadness.
The years as an adult – marriages, children, health and all things about being a ‘grown-up’ – were dealt with a beautifully considered respect, not only for herself but for her nearest and dearest. Her personal life remails personal, but we have an insight into what makes Dawn who she is – the person we see and love on our TV screens.
There was laughter and tears in equal measure, however the tears of laughter outweighed those of sadness. Optimism and positivity in abundance.
Dawn’s ‘performance’ felt so personal, to the point where you basically forgot you were watching an actress/comedienne – it was not acting, it was story-telling of the highest degree. Entertaining, moving, funny and a damn good story – a true story and one that she didn’t have to share with us, but chose to. That’s what people who love life and are happy in their own skin do.
What else can I really say about this remarkable woman, that won’t sound contrived and patronising? We were so touched by her candid, honest accounts of the many stages of her life to date; her self-deprecating humour and ability to openly convey how she’s dealt with the trials that life throws at us. It was a sheer pleasure and again, a privilege to be a member of the audience. Congratulations Dawn, you are truly inspiring.
(And thanks for liking my Tweet!)