Watching Carmen from the wings for the umpteenth time this month, I found myself gazing up at my colleagues in childlike wonderment. Perhaps I was riding the high of catching Carmen’s tomato, but uncoordinated fruit sports aside, I could watch these talented people perform this ballet forever. The music is unbeatable, the costumes are quite chic, and the choreography is perfectly vintage Viktor. It is simply strange, classic Plotnikov movements riding along the iconic score and competing with bombastic phrases only when necessary. Solemn, flirtatious, dramatic, and drunk.

Last night was extra special because I got to watch one of my very best friends debut in the title role(!!!). T and I have a special kinda bond that spawns only from 4 years of cohabitation-turned-total-life-coordination. It’s a synced up popcorn between the couches, crying on the first night, don’t watch another episode without me, kinda thing. What a proud moment to see someone I adore so completely dance the principal role in a ballet that is equally as dear as her. T’s Spanish siren dreams have become real at last. Bravo, lady, bravo!

And after a bit of a casting emergency, I actually got to be the fragile foil to her headstrong harlot!

Carmen + Micaela forever.

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