Last Friday I was supposed to accompany Dave and his camera to see the Night Festival at the National Museum, where Italian troupe Studio Festi was performing Dancing Sky. Imagine mystical Renaissance balloons lit up like the full Man on the Moon come down to earth while around them, ballerinas suspended on cables danced gracefully through the air, weightless and magical, gauzy dresses trailing behind. Or a nimble acrobat in the middle of a giant bubble rolling down the path, lithe and supple, doing amazing spins and somersaults. Orbs of light with a dancing fairy trapped inside. Or a ship with silken sails flapping in the wind, cutting through the air bathed in a glow of moonlight. Enthralling. Ethereal. Like the flying dreams I get every now and then (I love flying dreams). You enter another world, one step closer to taking flight yourself.
But Dave was down with a migraine so we didn’t go in the end. As I’m writing this, I’m regretting I didn’t just go see it on my own. (I don’t see as much performing arts as I wish I did; I wish I had more kakis to go to these things with me. Still, last Friday…) Really regretting. Really.
So, if ever Studio Festi’s Dancing Sky comes to your town, watch it on my behalf. Write back in great detail and tell me how beautiful it was. And what an idiot I was for missing it.
Tags: arts and, dancing sky, studio festi
