Last Friday night into Saturday morning, I spent almost five hours at the Melbourne Festival's version of John Cage's Musicircus, watching a lot of music, posturing and dance.
A LOT OF DANCE.
As a rule, I CAN'T STAND dance. I'd rather eat my own earwax than go to the ballet and as far as those dancing TV shows go... well get fucked. But I got chatting to a nice dancer who didn't seem like a fruit loop that night, so I thought it was only fair to give the artform, dance one more chance.
AND I ENJOYED IT.
Most the performances on the night were of the disturbingly writhing on the floor variety. You've seen what I'm talking about before probably late on a Sunday night on the ABC. Tights, muscles and dry rooting, much like the carpark after The Geelong Cup but substitute God Is A Slob Like One Of Us with Music For Airports.
But nothing at Musicircus came close to tap's Waughs, The Nicholas Brothers, THE COOLEST SIBLINGS EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD.
Introduced with smooth gusto (if there was such a thing), by Cab Calloway, here's The Nicholas Brothers' RIDICULOUSLY GOBSMACKING Jumpin' Jive routine from the 1943 film, Stormy Weather.
Fred Astaire had the same reaction as I did years ago when I first saw it saying it was "the best dance number ever filmed."
I wonder what ol' Fred would have thought of the dance I saw at 2am involving the um... no, I won't go into it.