Nova Arts Project: Thom Pain

Sean Patrick Judge as Thom Pain.

Photo by Sarah White.

Thom Pain wants to mess with your head. He's a storyteller, damaged lover, lunatic, loner, whack motivational speaker, lapsed existentialist, comic, poet, monologist, antihero, misguided teacher, philosopher, master of indecision, surreal host, huckster, everyman, entertainer, magician, advisor, rogue sage, ringmaster, confessor, broken optimist and hopeful pessimist. Did I miss anything? Probably, as it's easy to miss the nuances of Pain's personality, or if you prefer, personality disorder, in Will Eno's riveting monologue, Thom Pain, presented by Nova Arts Project at DiverseWorks Arts Space in Houston, TX.

Pain has come to tell a tale of his own life, two to be exact: one about a boy, his dog, its unfortunate demise from electrocution, the boy's battle with a pesky bee hive, and his unremarkable adulthood; another, about the love of his life, the perfect romance, broken but full of promise. At times, it seems Pain goes into a meditative trance in the telling, taking us willingly with him off more than one verbal cliff as the tales get interrupted by quirky distractions, jokes missing their punchlines, random thoughts, raffle news, his fixation on the audience and snippets of solid philosophical truisms.

There's a purposeful drive leading Pain to finish his stories, and he does as best he can. The energy of going on and off topic sets up a rhythm, a predictability that diffuses the anxiety of being in close quarters with a loose canon. He pulls us in with large ideas, then blows us off. He pushes us in with odd requests, then lets us off the hook. Pithy banter eases the sting of the darker moments, and there are many. “The dead horse of a life we beat, all the wilder, all the harder the deader it gets. On the other hand, there are some nice shops in the area.” There's no shortage of push, pull, tug and shove in Eno's play, yet the back and forth energy lends a momentum. It's as if Pain's true pain leaks out despite his best efforts.

Eno's play examines the anatomy of anxiety-based humor with enough emotional oscillations to unsettle, disturb, and disarm. Nervous laughter has never before been this satisfying. His language lulls us into the depth of these strange and non-linear tales, elevating passive aggression to an art form. “In fact you're all so wonderful I'd like to take you home, leave you there, and then go somewhere else.”

Seán Patrick Judge bestows Pain with a sneaky dignity. Dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and over-sized black-rimmed glasses, he comes off as capable, a generic professional with a mission. Is it the warmth in his resonant baritone, or the forgiveness in his eyes, or his sheer diligence to get the job done? Judge inhabits Pain's mania with a well-worn quality, never failing to give the cacophony of sometimes unconnected thought sequences some soul. Even in his most acerbic lashes, he's tolerable, sometimes even likable and always believable. Sure, he gets too close sometimes, yet backs away at just the right moment, taking us to the edge of our comfort. There aren't too many soft edges in Eno's play, but Judge finds and uses them all.

Matt Huff, new to Houston and Nova Arts, directs with an eye for Eno's brand of minimalism, letting the language determine the pace and allowing awkward silences to penetrate and punctuate as places for the play to breathe. Brian White's nearly-there set consists of a largely empty black box space, a small table with a pitcher of water and a glass, and one curious upstage ladder. Sarah White's harsh white light add to Eno's off center tone.

Close to the end, Judge stands dead center in a pool of white light, fists clenched, eyes closed, looking upwards as if in prayer, reciting a litany of human actions. “I sniffed butterflies. I pissed on things, ...I ate scraps, wanted to be a cowboy.” In those dead serious moments, the facade fades, the person emerges, and, through his unadorned vulnerability, we get it. Despite every misstep of his mangled journey, Pain still marvels at life's mysteries. Pain asks, “If they ask you where you've been, please just don't say that you were out somewhere watching someone being clever, watching some smart-mouthed nobody work himself into some dumb-ass frenzy. Please say instead... that you saw someone who was trying.” That we did.

Pain's final humble request aims at the heart, “I know this wasn't much, but let it be enough.” We need to do that too.

Nova Arts Project presents Will Eno's Thom Pain through July 3 at 8pm at DiverseWorks. Call 1-800-595-4849.

Reprinted from Culturevulture.net.

Houston Ballet: Swan Lake

Sara Webb and Connor Walsh
Photo by Amitava Sarkar

There’s nothing quite like finding out your girlfriend’s day job is being a swan. Siegfried and Odette, in Stanton Welch’s Swan Lake, have the ultimate “it’s complicated” situation, making the trauma of their doomed love the central nexus for his ballet.

Choreographers have been putting their individual stamp on Swan Lake since it premiered at the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow in 1877. The ballet was a notorious flop; still, a long line of choreographers have wanted to dance in their own lake. Houston Ballet is already on their third version. All that said, Welch’s 2006 version, inspired by Pre-Raphaelite painter John William Waterhouse’s 1888 painting The Lady of Shalott, updates the story, bringing it more into the realm of the fantastic, with surreal settings and glittery costumes by the late Kristian Fredrikson, and highlighting a love affair with a strong emotional center.

Here, our prince meets Odette as a maiden, so there’s a certain rhythm to the various transformations from human to swan back to human. Welch also plays with the structure of the ballet, giving Act I and II some rousing new dancing by the various princesses and the sea of men, known as the prince’s friends, or various guards. There’s some re-conceiving of Rothbart and his band of glamorous hawk-like swans. Rothbart, equal parts reptile, bat and Darth Vader, is one dark villain, so it follows that he should have a gang of sexy black swans in glittery tutus to keep him company.

Whether you like the updates or long for more tradition, the dancing is what keeps you glued to your seat. Sara Webb concludes her stunning season with a riveting performance as Odette/Odile. Her subtle grace bestows Odette with a contemplative edge. Webb takes a demure approach, allowing a tenderness in her relationship to Siegfried. She’s all air in Act I, almost watery in her fluid torso and liquid arms. As Odile, Webb stretches her wings in Black Swan, letting her bravura come out full force. Connor Walsh has grown in maturity since his last Siegfried. He’s more confident, assured, and well, princely. Walsh and Webb also demonstrate a chemistry that has been a few years in the making, giving added heart to their performance.

Other stand outs include Joseph Walsh as one of the Prince’s friends. Walsh has had a great season and is most certainly one to watch. The always elegant Barbara Bears is a portrait of coy restraint as the Princess of Russia. When Bears dances, it’s not only about what she does, but what she withholds. It’s quite magical and never fails to galvanize the audience’s attention. Whether it’s a turn of her chin or the flip of a wrist, she captivates. Jaquel Andrews gives the Princess of Spain an ample dose of flash and sass. Kelly Myernick’s Princess of Hungary emphasizes old world Slavic charm. Emily Bowen’s lively performance as the Princesses of Naples succeeds in its precision and quick-footed vitality. As Rothbart, Nicholas Leschke holds the stage with the presence of a true fantasy villain, creepy and enticing. Even the red-eyed dragon seemed to be more comfortable in his scaly skin.

Fredrickson’s sets and costumes conjure an otherworldly atmosphere. Lacy white trees in Act I tell us we are in a magical realm, while the Art Deco ballroom recalls the paintings of Gustav Klimt. Jewel-toned costumes, rich with iridescent and shimmery fabrics, add yet another striking layer. Houston Ballet ensemble danced with noted precision and authority. Martin West conducted the Houston Ballet Orchestra in a crisp performance.

Reprinted from Houston ArtsWeek.

Downtown Dance in Downtown Houston: Big Range Program C

Miranda Jirik and Rachel Lehrer

photo by Bryan Fox

Barnevelder Movement/Arts Complex
June 12, 2009


One of the great perks of the Big Range Dance Festival is seeing work from outside of Houston. To see downtown dance in downtown Houston, well, that's even better. Choreographers Lori Yuill (formerly of Suchu) and Anneke Hansen were on hand to give Texans a taste of the downtown aesthetic. Their training and approaches show a integration of a large body of movement knowledge and just warms the heart of this somatic-leaning critic. Their dancers, also well-schooled movement wonks, present fine examples of the merging of dance technique and the body sciences. Both Yuill and Hansen were on the Big Range bill two years ago, so this is another opportunity to follow these artists in their development.


Hansen's we should call it many things, which premiered in March, 2009 at University Settlement on NYC's Lower East Side, proved to be the most fully realized program of the evening. Her opening solo showed off her considerable qualitative palette. A foot reaches for the floor, but not quite, a shoulder shimmers, then retreats, hands caress imaginary objects in space. She and her dancers move with such clarity, space appears fuller, larger, endowed with extra features. Hansen's dance plays with sound, music by Emily Scott and Jack Lawrence, wildly inventive and odd movement choices and relationships that form and disperse in a lulling rhythm. At times, the dancers become the singers, hummers, or quirky chirpers in the piece's lighter moments. It's obvious from watching that the dancers have worked together for a while; in fact, their connectivity makes for one of the most meaningful allures of the piece. There are moments when dancers get thrown out of the pack literally to do their own thing. Miranda Jirik captivates in her sly solo, which concludes with her crawling off stage while whistling. Besides Hansen and Jirik, the dancers included Deborah Black, Rachel Lehrer, Marissa Palley and Yuill. Natasha Manley's haunting singing and stage presence added to the mix. Jeremy Choate coated Hansen's finely defined choreography in side light, punching the warm skin tones against a velvety blackness. Black's playful jumpsuits featured solid blocks of primary colors with dashes of pattern, and added a touch whimsy.


Yuill presented a trio cryptically called A Window into the Lorena Reality, which premiered at The Kitchen in April as a part of the Field's Emerging Artist Residency. With the space defined by a border of pillows, Brian Buck, Hanson, and Palley, duke it out for space, contact, support, perhaps meaning. Sometimes in agreement, other times in competition, the trio reveals the trouble with three-ness. Like Hanson's work, the highly nuanced qualities of the dancers forms the subject of the dance. Buck's aggressive naturalism contrasts Hanson's delicacy, while Palley takes the spunky spot. The choice to move in silence afforded even more focus on the dancing.


Amy Ell's opening of Thread, also danced in silence, contained some stunning moments. Four dancers attached to long billowy skirts tethered to the back of the stage, rush forward. The lights dim as the fabric floats back to the ground. Accompanied only by the intoxicating sound of the swishing of fabric, the minimalism worked well here. Three aerialists enter to share the space and the limelight with the earthbound trio. White silks drop from the ceiling and we are treated to some spectacular air candy dancing. Air dancing comes with its troubles too; unison becomes problematic here, our attention is divided in a small space between the three dancers, and there's considerable work wrapping and unwrapping that feels too utilitarian and distracting. Still, it's hard not to gasp at their skill level, daring and sheer brute strength and grace all happening some 15 ft. in the air. There's no shortage of risk taking with the silks; it's simply breathtaking when they slip down the silks, allowing for quiet moments that unite body and fabric.


Thread feels like two separate dances put together for this occasion. The silence that worked so well in the opening was interrupted by choices that felt very Cirque du Soleilish. All that said, Ell is Houston's chief air pioneer, traveling the world studying various circus and aerial techniques. There's a lot of engineering yet to happen about the dance element in the airspace, and Ell is committed to seriously investigating that territory. The ground dancers included Erica Lewis, Catalina Molnari, Joani Trevino and Brittany Wallis. Air dancers included Ell, Mechelle Flemming, and Polly Patton. Clair Hummel's white cotton pants and tops with matching the long skirts and silks gave the piece a formal edge. Part of the Big Range's mission is all about giving choreographers a place to hone their work. Thread, still finding its threads, is a solid start.


Hats off to Louie Saletan for sticking with the festival's name in the curating process and to Jennifer Wood for her wonderful sampling of dance films in the pre-show entertainment.

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston.

From Madonna to Houston's Met

Photo by Facundo Gabba.

Salim Gauwloos is back at his old stomping ground at the Metropolitan Dance Company (The MET) creating a brand new dance for his old dance buddies. Gauwloos' diverse dance resume includes Madonna's Blond Ambition tour, her 1991 film Truth or Dare, a stint on Broadway in Elton John/Tim Rice's Aida, choreography for the Orlando Ballet and Mia Michaels' R.A.W. Salim Gauwloos in creation mode in May at the Houston Metropolitan Dance Company.

But it's Gauwloos' days of dancing with MET predecessor the Delia Stewart Dance Company that brings back memories of growing up in those gritty but authentic quarters. The strapping choreographer even danced with Michelle Smith, the MET's current director. Gauwloos fills us in on life beyond Houston and his brand new ballet created especially for the MET's Summer Sampler of Dance at Miller Outdoor Theatre on Friday:

29-95: Tell us about your new ballet, Elevated.

Salim Gauwloos: I have always been interested in the supernatural and the afterlife, the things you do not see. Maybe Elevated is about the calm before the chaos. I am better with movement than words.

29-95: You sound religious, and you made this dance in four days. You beat God.

SG: Ha, I guess I did. I am very spiritual, but attracted to the darkness.

29-95: You have a quite a history in this dance studio. Can you give me a flash history of how you went from a ballet academy in Antwerp, Belgium, to dancing with the iconic Delia Stewart? She was a walking Broadway musical.

SG: Yes, there was only one Delia. I got a scholarship to STEPS in New York City. Delia saw me there and offered me a job dancing with her Houston company. I was only 18. For a time, Delia even let me live in the building. I love this place, the floor, the smell.

29-95: That would be mildew, but you are right, it's a nice beachy smell. How did you end up dancing by Madonna's side?

SG: Again, it goes back to this room. Hinton Battle was here choreographing Delia's company and he told me about the Blond Ambition audition in New York. I auditioned for and made it. Madonna was famous for hiring only classically trained dancers.

29-95: How would you describe your Madge years? You were known as SLAM then, right?

SG: No one could pronounce my name so SLAM just evolved. Those were fantastic years. I was always her partner. I did the Vogue video with her, Truth or Dare in addition to the Blond Ambition tour.

29-95: On a scale from 1-10 how would you judge her dancing chops?

SG: For technique, I give her an eight. For work ethic, she gets a 100 plus. She is intense. I used to go running with her. We would run ten miles, backwards, sideways, then work out, then rehearse. You know Madonna rehearsed right in this very room when Blonde Ambition came to Houston? There was a total press outage so no one knew about it.

29-95: What happened post-Madonna?

SG: The commercial world changed radically when hip-hop became the rage. No one hired classically trained dancers any more, and hip-hop dancers would work for very little. It was awful. I had to go to Broadway, where I was in Aida.

29-95: Broadway? That's not too shabby. Did you have to sing and dance as well?

SG: Yes. A little. I had one line in Aida. It was so stressful.

29-95: How did you end up as a choreographer?

SG: I choreographed the Aida entry for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids and won Gypsy of the Year in 2003, which was amazing because usually The Lion King wins. I knew immediately I wanted to choreograph.

29-95: What's next for you?

SG: I am off to teach at ImpulsTanz Dance Festival in Vienna, then back to Belgium.

29-95: Will you be coming back here?

SG: Always. I love this place; I grew up here.

29-95: I hate to break this to you but the MET is leaving this building you so treasure for a fancy new space down the street.

SG: They are saving me a piece of the floor.

The Houston Metropolitan Dance company presents Elevated and other works in its Summer Sampler of Dance at Miller Outdoor Theatre, Friday at 8:30 p.m. Free.

Reprinted from 29-95.com.

Kristina Koutsoudas on Middle Eastern Dance and Memories of Spain

Kristina Koutsoudas photo by Delise Ward

Kristina Koutsoudas, Houston's leading Middle Eastern Dancer, performs in Memories of Spain, presented by Sara Draper's Dancepatheatre on June 20th Hobby Center. If you thought Middle Eastern dance was a small world, Koutsoudas sets us straight.

Dance Source Houston: Tell us about the your participation in Memories of Spain?

Kristina Koutsoudas: I will be dancing the Berber princess solo from Sara Draper's Al Andalus show. It's a contemporary American raqs sharqui style (belly dancing) and has very little if any traditional Berber movement in it at all. The piece was designed to fit the story line of the Berber princess character in the original Al-Andalus production. The character was found by gypsies after a devastating battle in which all of her kinsmen were slaughtered, adopted as part of the clan rather than left to die, and then raised by the clan with their traditions.
The second piece has been choreographed especially for Memories of Spain. The music, "the song of complaint," was composed with the theme of exile in mind. It's intended to illustrate her condition and her feelings about it.

DSH: How long have you been working with Sara Draper?

KK: I began working with Sara in May 2007 in the conceptual stages of Al-Andalus. I contributed knowledge of history, dance, and music in the great era in which Andalusia flourished, and gave a few classes of North African and Middle Eastern dance to her and her cast of the first incarnation of the show.

DSH: Give us a quick geography lesson in the parts of the world that you bring to life through dance.

KK: I have studied dances of the Near, Middle, & Far East, central Asia, North Africa, the Arabian Peninsula, Asia minor/Anatolia, the Mediterranean, Western Europe, and North America. This includes training in Classical East Indian dance, all styles of Middle Eastern dance, classical Balinese Topang mask dance, Afghani and Persian dance, West and South African dance, flamenco, Greek mainland and island dances, Moroccan, Algerian & Tunisian dance, Iyengar yoga, martial arts, fitness training, and a touch of pilates.

DSH: Do you remember your first exposure to Middle Eastern dance?

KK: I do. It was a street festival in Bloomington, Indiana. A dancer performed wearing a hooded cape, character shoes, a feather mask, a classical white and pearlescent belly dance costume underneath it all. She danced with a sword on her head. She was part of the SCA (Society of Creative Anachronism) in Bloomington who performed at Renaissance fairs like here in Plantersville, Texas. I had never seen anything like it and have never seen anything quite like it since. Today, a style similar to this can be found in the American tribal style.

She was so beautiful and mysterious, so feminine. I wanted to move that beautifully. She had a sign up sheet for those interested in classes. So, I signed my name.

DSH: Did you grow up watching dance?

KK: Yes, I saw things like ballets and operas. I remember the Nutcracker very well, but my biggest influence was my family. We are Greek and we all dance, especially my mother, my grandmothers, and my grandfather. Everyone would join in the dance, the young, old, thin, fat, men, women and would set aside all differences and all cares when they danced.

The women, especially my mother, taught me to dance. She would take me by the hand in the middle of the living room and dance as if she was on stage with no one watching; she filled and exploded space. She soared and sang with each step, with each beat, and with each moment.

DSH: What kind of changes are made to take a dance from a village to stage?

KK: Village dance was performed for the benefit of the dancers, for the experience of the dance. For the stage, choreography becomes more complex to make it interesting to the viewer. Lighting is added in western performance space and costuming must be rich.

DSH: Can you talk about the process of traveling and learning these dances?

KK: We have a saying in Greek, "to learn dance, you must dance." I have traveled across the globe and the country to study the different dances from master teachers in various styles. I have also studied videos of old movies, documentaries on dance, shows, and instructional videos of master teachers.
It's also important to allow oneself to explore and open tradition, to open oneself to one's own movement and not just the traditions from which they spring.

DSH: Do you have a master teacher?

KK: Several, Amel Taffsout, Ibrahim Farrah, Yoursy Sharif, Tayyar Akdeniz. Artemis Mourat and Mahmoud Reda. I am also highly influenced by Mona Said and Nadia Gamal.

DSH: What are some of the big misconceptions about Middle Eastern dance?

KK: Here are just a few.

That you dance with your belly. You actually dance with your whole body with complex isolations of head, shoulders, torso and pelvic region that are dynamically or rhythmically expressed.

Middle Eastern dance is just for entertainment. It's for prayer, healing, meditation, preparation for battle, courtship, rites of passage, ceremonies, and learning/teaching social rules.

That Middle Eastern dance is all raqs sharqui (belly dancing). There are a myriad of forms both within the classical traditions which include Egyptian Orientale, Turkish Orientale, Lebanese Orientale, Greek Orientale, American Orientale, Danse Orientale (theatrical dance), American Tribal, and folkloric traditions.
That raqs sharqui (belly dancing) came from the Middle East. Yes, it was created from Middle Eastern dance, however, it was not a tradition as it is seen today per se. It was highly influenced by Western culture, especially Western perceptions of Middle Eastern culture. The costuming, the intent, and so on and were developed by western economic interests, foreign policy especially with regards to the Middle East, and the western fascination with the Arabian Nights image, the images of harems, and dancing girls and so on.
That raqs sharqui is something everyone is born knowing how to do. If this were true, why are there so many schools? It is deceptively difficult dance technique to perform.

DSH: Costumes are hugely important in your work. Can you talk about the level of detail in the costumes you will be wearing?

KK: My costume is designed with the intention to accentuate the movement and essence of the dance while keeping as much to the design of traditional dress as possible. Movements must be revealed or seen from a stage, especially in a more celebratory piece. It is very difficult then to stick to the style of Berber traditional costume design with ample drapes and veiling with heavy fabric and headdresses and still be able to perform the raqs sharqui movements. The Berber costume has therefore been altered for the stage to allow for ease and visibility of movement while still retaining a flavor of traditional design, texture, and line. This means the line has been slimmed to one's form so there is no elaborate draping of material or headdress, the midriff has been exposed, and the hips and bust are adorned with jewelry for movement accentuation.
The "song of complaint" costume reveals the other aspect of Middle Eastern dance, the concealing part. Nothing of the dancer's body is exposed and even her face is hidden from view. A great Moroccan burnoose or hooded cape covers the body, gloves cover the hands, and a type of shoe covers the feet. This costume would be typical of a very devout Muslim character.The dancer's mystique is preserved and also enhanced, the essence of the dance.

DSH: Do you consider yourself as a preserver of culture or a person that is moving these dances forward?

KK: Both. I have learned the traditional dances, yet I have has so many influences from different styles and cultures I believe they are inherently innovative. Still, I strive to maintain the integrity of the traditional forms while being self expressive. I can depart from the tradition from a place of strength and not weakness, partly because of the knowledge, but also because of a grasp on the integrity of the form.


Kristina Koutsoudas performs as part of Dancepatheatre's Memories of Spain on June 20th, at 7:30 pm at Zilkha Hall in The Hobby Center, Call 713-315-2525 or visit www.thehobbycenter.org.

Reprented from Dance Source Houston.

Amy Ell dances on Air at Big Range Dance Festival

Photo by Louis Saletan: Amy Ell, top, and Toni Valle.

Amy Ell, Houston's leading air dancer and aerial teacher, headlines Program C (June 12-13) of the Big Range Dance Festival at Barnevelder, which begins this weekend. Ell has gathered her flying chops from the nation's top aerial and circus performers including studies with Cirque veterans the Gemini Twins, Frequent Flyer Productions in Boulder and Fran Sperling. Ell's impressive range of skills include trapeze, silks and hoop. She gives us the lowdown on the high dancing life:

29-95: Have you always been a daredevil type?

Amy Ell: Anybody who has ever worked with me would say yes.

29-95: Tell us about your first dance flight.

AE: Choreographer Sarah Irwin put me on a bungee in 1989 off the docks at DiverseWorks. The only downside was having the urge to vomit because of all the spinning.

29-95: Did you love being in the air right away?

AE: Yes. I studied gymnastics and had a trampoline when I was a kid. You gain an enormous awareness of your body moving through space in gymnastics. My step-mom put me in dance because she thought I was clumsy. I was always falling. I still fall, just not on stage.

29-95: Doesn't falling work well for aerial?

AE: Actually, yes, but I have a fear of heights. As long as I don't look down I am fine. I can go up 30 ft. and not realize I am up that high.

29-95: What attracts you to aerial dance?

AE: It's about using the stage in a different format. How do we consider the space above our head? It's not just about your feet on the floor. I wanted to move in the entire space.

Photo by Louis Saletan

29-95: Talk the work you are doing at the Big Range.

AE: I am expanding on a piece I did for the UH ensemble called "Thread." It involves 22 ft. long skirts tethered to the ground. I have expanded the piece to include white fabric from the ceiling.

29-95: So the skirts fly?

AE: Yes, but they also limit the dancers. I am interested in working within limits. In aerial you always have constraints. I was thinking of cultural limitations imposed on women.

29-95: How do you explore a social issue while hanging upside down from a white silk?

AE: It's just another limitation. One limitation from the floor, and another from the ceiling.

29-95: Are you dancing in it?

AE: Yes, on Friday night. On Saturday, my daughter Ciri will fill in for me. So it's me and mini me.

29-95: What's up (forgive the pun) next?

AE: I have been working with French choreographer Fred Deb'. She's been coaching me with a new work of mine, which you will hopefully see in the fall.

Amy Ell performs in Program C of the Big Range Dance Festival, which runs May 29-June 14th at Barnevelder Movement Arts. Ticket prices change per performance, but are generally $14-$18. Call 713-529-1819 for more information.

Reprinted from 29-95.com.

Melody Herrera is the new bird in Swan Lake

Photo by Amitava Sarkar:
Dancers Melody Herrera and Simon Ball perform in Houston Ballet's Onegin.

Melody Herrera, Houston Ballet's youngest principal, finally gets to take flight as Odette/Odile in Stanton Welch's Swan Lake. The tiny ballerina, last seen as the spoiled French queen/party girl Marie Antoinette, makes her debut in this iconic role. Herrera fills us in on life in the greatest ballerina role with feathers:

29-95: So how does it feel to be the newest member of the flock?

Melody Herrera: I am thrilled to be dancing Odette/Odile in Swan Lake. It's such an epic ballet; it's the mothership as far roles for female principals.

29-95: I have heard from other dancers that the role is a bit like having a truck run over you. Then it backs up and runs over you again. Is that true?

MH: Yes, and the truck is aiming directly at my left calf. It runs over and over it again. Then, I still have to do those 32 fouetts on the left leg during the Black Swan Pas de deux. It's the hardest classical ballet, which is also what makes it so fun.

29-95: Describe the fun?

MH: It's an all you can eat buffet ballet, in that you get a bit everything, the best and the hardest, especially in Stanton's version.

29-95: How is Welch's version of Swan Lake different?

MH: You are not just a swan. Odette starts out as a maiden, so I have all these sweeping romantic pas de deux with lots of gutsy acting and storytelling. Then, I have to dance all the swan stuff on top of all that. There are also two transformations, from white swan to black swan, and from human to swan.

29-95: White swan or black swan?

MH: I was afraid you would ask that. In my ballerina soul I love white swan. There's something so tender about her and I love the rescued damsel in distress aspect to her character. Still, I have a blast doing black swan; the part is so full of bravura.

29-95: Let's talk about those dreaded and delicious 32 fouetts that black swan needs to crank out flawlessly. Do you count? I do.

MH: I bet you do. It's in the music and I have grown up around the Tchaikovsky score, so I know it very well. I can't stop turning until the final note of the music.

29-95: Welch created the part of Marie Antoinette in his recent world premiere ballet Marie especially for you. Now you are doing a part that thousands of ballerinas have done before you. How does that situation change your approach?

MH: Since I'm the rookie swan, I am trying not to get too fancy. I want to keep the purity of the ballet so I am going for heartfelt and less frills.

29-95: Did watch other ballerinas in the role?

MH: Yes, I have seen several, some live, on video, and YouTube. I remember watching Natalia Markova's swan a lot. She's such an old world ballerina and there's something special about that. I am trying to maintain that feel, and not get too new.

29-95: Did you observe birds as well?

MH: Yes, always. I grew up around birds in Santa Cruz, California. But just recently I watched a flock of swans at a park near the theater we were performing at in Spain. They have these super long curved necks. So being a bird is all about the neck and back.

If you are trying to be an animal, you better watching them.

29-95: So you think of yourself as a swan while you are dancing?

MH: Oh yes. Technically, I am a woman trapped in the body of a swan.

Houston Ballet presents Swan Lake June 11-21 at Wortham Center. Orchestra side front tickets start at $18. Houston Ballet is offering a 50% discount for select performances for customers who purchase both Swan Lake and Nutcracker. Student rush tickets will be available Sat., June 13 at 1:30 pm. (Student rush tickets are always subject to availability.)

Reprinted from 29-95.com.