Stories in Motion

The first time I wished I was vapor I was 10 years old. My first kiss had just been stolen from me by a 17-year-old boy who told me that we were in love, and that it must be kept secret. This was the beginning of a 3-year assault on my childhood firsts, a period where I felt buzzing with newfound desire but also inexplicably vacant and disconnected from my body. When he touched me I felt as if my skin had caught fire. Later, once I was alone, my skin felt dull and drab as if it had been drained of blood. Slowly, as the years went on, I felt entirely made of ash and nothing sparked. I began frantically taping down my tiny-but-growing breasts, covering my body in oversized sweats, and crying from an amorphous feeling of overwhelm. When I looked in the mirror, everything that was looking back felt so incredibly foreign.

But when I was dancing, my body felt like home again. I’d flail my sticks-for-arms in jazz class, and marvel at the rigidity of my ankles in ballet, and in tap I’d stomp stomp stomp feeling the reverberations up to the top of my head until all my little vapors of self came rushing back. Each season I begged my mom to let me take more and more classes, and each season, as my command of body strengthened, so did my confidence.

The boy 7 years my senior was not the last time someone stole a part of me. But dance has always been a way to get it back.

Highlighting the power of dance, these snacks are ones that move:

Movie: Fish Tank

While dance isn’t the central focus of Andrea Arnold’s 2010 masterpiece, it provides a powerful tool throughout. Fish Tank perfectly encapsulates how hard it is to be a teen - trapped in your hometown, in your family, in your own body, and the confusing ways others can take advantage of that. The main character, Mia, is a prisoner of her circumstance and dance is her vehicle for escape. Arnold is meticulous with her use of metaphor while keeping the tone raw and authentic. Boxy framing mirrors Mia’s isolation, hand-held following shots root us in her frenetic psyche, and a string of chained animals mimics Mia’s captivity with subtlety. In each dance scene the movements are awkward and middling, pairing perfectly with the superbly naturalistic acting. The final dance with her mother made me cry even on a second watch.

Fun fact: lead actress Kate Jarvis was discovered as she fought with her boyfriend at a train station, and actors were given the script for each scene on the day of filming.

Blunt. Immersive. Uninhibited.

Short: Then Comes The Body

Cinematographer Soren Nielsen is that rare combination of focus and talent with pure, unadulterated kindness. So it’s no surprise that his recent project with director Jacob Krupnick is the type of uplifting story that gives you lasting hope. Then Comes The Body sheds technicolor light on Leaps of Dance Academy, a small ballet studio in the “boondocks” of Nigeria. The profile is told through joyful music and surrealist imagery, transporting you into that sublime feeling of hitting the perfect pirouette. The words of the dancers are so casually profound, and strung together with such ease, the 14 minute short doc seems to be over before it starts. I’ve watched this 4 times (and counting) and I can usually keep it together until the sentence that makes up its namesake. “Then comes the body” has become my new mantra.

ATTN Academy members: this precious nugget is 2025 Oscar qualified!

Optimistic. Soulful. Stunning.

Performance: Café Müller

Watching the fuzzy 1985 recording of Pina Bausch sleepwalk her way across a chair-strewn stage was one of my most formative artistic experiences. It was the first time I understood that the power of dance goes beyond beauty, and that you are allowed to leave your audience with more questions than answers. Crude and erratic movements explore expectation vs desire, the clash of power and trust, and the imprisonment of love. With an air of ever-present danger, Café Müller mixes catharsis with brutality, leaving the audience with an uneasiness that is gut deep - even 40 years later.

Poetic. Haunting. Iconic.

Dessert: The Dress Scene

Another formative dance video? The dress scene in the 1998 movie Dance With Me. This film stars Vanessa Williams, has a 51% on Rotten Tomatoes, and is one of my all-time favorites. I’d give you a taste of the plot, but it’s actually not important. The only thing that matters is this under-3-minute scene where I learned what sexy looks like.

Fun! Sexy! Stupid!

Snack: Food Court Fried Rice

By 17 I was wearing fast-fashion mini skirts, was the first in my class to have a Nokia cell phone, and was captain of my small town’s dance team. I was on top of my tiny little world, and the most important moment of my year had arrived: a performance at Tanglewood Mall. Surrounded by stylish stores like Aéropostale and Wet Seal, my girls and I would leap and twirl to the coolest songs of 2004. My shining moment was to be a solo turn sequence set to Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful.” And this year, I would be performing in front of my very first boyfriend. 

The costumes were sick: a blue & white softly tie-dyed body suit, gauzy tendrils of fabric entangling bedazzled tights, and (my favorite part) a very sexy one-shoulder neck line that allowed the left collar bone to glisten under fluorescent lights. I sashayed into place, rolling my exposed shoulder back, and shot a wink to my front row boy. Christina whispered “Don’t look at me” and my arched body compelled everyone to please, look at me. Those first 15 seconds were transcendent. Each push of my hips and sweep of my leg brought me closer to the holy euphoria of dance. Then, a couple measures before my big moment, the clear strap invisibly holding up the sloped side of the body suit snapped. My elbow shot down to catch the fabric as I jazz-walked to stage right. I gave a panic-stricken look to my teacher nearby, who motioned the universal sign for “the show must go on.” I piqued back into formation, my arm in the shape of a broken wing. Lyrics crescendoed “You are beautiful no matter what they say” as I slid to center stage, and with each turn I oscillated between making a T with my arms and holding up my top, causing the left boob to play peek-a-boo with the audience. I finished the dance with my bicep glued to my side and a blank stare across my face. I was off stage before Christina’s final assertion “Don’t bring me down, ooooh, todayyyy.” 

I bawled. Thick blue eye liner streaked my cheeks as my boyfriend pulled me into his chest. He sing-songed “you are beautiful” and “don’t let it get you down” and the joke did not land, I only cried harder. Reluctantly, I followed BF’s encouragement to join the other girls up at the food court. I didn’t want to face them, afraid they’d be mad that I had ruined their premiere mall performance as well. Of course, they were not. They hugged me and kissed me and made me laugh in the way a boyfriend never could, and they reminded me that the best thing about dance is that it’s not a “me” art, it’s an “us” art. My left boob was just one of many left boobs at Tanglewood that day, and that is beautiful.

Versatile. Cheap. Nostalgic.

Whenever I have left over rice from last night’s take-out I make magic with a couple pads of butter, a few key sauces, and whatever mix-ins I’ve got on hand. 

The how-to’s:

• Use cold rice instead of fresh to get a good crisp

• If you want that small-town delightfully savory taste, use butter not oil

• High heat makes for fried rice instead of steamed

The must haves:

• Soy sauce & a bit of chili crisp are necessary for any fried rice at my home

• Sautéed garlic & a finishing drizzle of sesame oil add depth

• I’ll take my ass to the store if I don’t have an egg to scramble

My favorite mix-ins:

• Frozen peas & carrots make for a classic, but I’ll add any veggies I’ve got in the crisper

• Onions, ofc

• Chopped up kimchi adds crunch AND bite

• Shrimp makes me feel fancy, firm tofu makes me feel healthy

• Water chestnuts & mushrooms low-key elevate everything

• Scallions, cilantro, & a squeeze of lime add brightness I am always seeking

• The umami of nori helps me cut back on soy sauce

• A fresh spicy pepper is my answer to everything

• I secretly add a splash of worcestershire bc the south never leaves you

• Basically ANYTHING

• NEVER pineapple

Jazz hands forever,

<3 Julie