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Brandon and Virginia Pilgrim Ramey Present “Cindy’s Big Day” — as in “Cinderella”

Virginia Pilgrim Ramey in ‘Cindy’s Big Day’



Brandon Ramey and his wife, Virginia Pilgrim Ramey, were set to star as Cinderella and Prince Charming in the Ballet Memphis production of the Sergei Prokofiev ballet, Cinderella, which was to be held April 18th and 19th at the Orpheum.

The coronavirus put a stop to that.

But you still can see Virginia as Cinderella in the couple’s latest Facebook video, Cindy’s Big Day, which was directed by Brandon, who collaborated with Virginia.

“Cindy,” of course, is Cinderella.

“This one is special because it would have been our big Cinderella weekend,” Virginia says. “And so it’s kind of a fun look at the idea of Cinderella or somebody getting ready for something big and then it’s canceled. And what you end up doing with your time.”

“The plot is that Cindy is a ballerina who is preparing for her big performance as Cinderella in the Ballet Memphis production of Cinderella,” Brandon says. “She was up. She’s so excited. She’s  getting ready for her day. Puts on her makeup, picks out pointe shoes, picks up her broom, and is headed toward the theater. And, immediately, comes face to face with a big poster of the show with the word ‘Cancelled’ written right across the front of it.”

The music stops. Everything goes silent. “It seems like the whole world stops spinning. She’s dejected. Totally depressed. And, just as we would imagine Cinderella doing if her ball is canceled, she starts cleaning with her broom. And cleaning turns into dancing. The cleaning leads to picking various activities around the house. All of a sudden she’s turned into a carpenter and she’s making this very nice silver chest. And then she grabs her saw and, the next thing, she’s exposing brick in the kitchen. It’s a project we’ve actually been working on, so she’s actually going at it.

“And then she’s all over the house finding ways to fill her time now that her show’s been canceled. The last scene is her flipping through the pages of the calendar and putting a new show date in the future when the show will go on. And she falls asleep with a big smile on her face. Dreaming about a new day and a new show.”

Virginia doesn’t dance in her Ballet Memphis Cinderella costume, Brandon says. “We don’t have the costumes. They belong to our wonderful costume department. In the video, we tried to emulate the idea of what the costume would look like. What a ballerina would look like doing all these chores.”

So, she wears “a leotard and a long skirt and pink tights and her shiny pointe shoes.”

His wife gives a solo performance in this video, Brandon says. “I am not in this one at all. And this one doesn’t have any choreography. She dances a little bit with the broom and is running with it. I said, ‘I’m going to videotape you dancing with a broom.’ Being the effusive creator she is, everything she did is gold.”

The Rameys began rehearsing for the Ballet Memphis production of Cinderella last February, Virginia says. “We closed our Winter Mix in mid-February. And soon after that, we started Cinderella rehearsals.”

Brandon remembered when they were told the ballet was canceled. “Steven McMahon, the artistic director, brought the whole company together and had a heart-to-heart with us and just explained how drastic the measures to keep everyone safe were going to have to be. And I think he was pretty early in the curve in this. He had the foresight to realize where this whole situation was headed. We were in the studio. We were all in a circle sitting on the ground. But even in that safe environment, it felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath us.”

This would have been the second time the Rameys would have appeared in a Ballet Memphis production of Cinderella. They appeared in the ballet in 2016.

It’s not an easy role, Brandon says. “It is just entirely exhausting. We started working on it maybe two months ago. And some of that was just to figure out the choreography, the steps. But, also, it’s training to get the stamina just to get through that three-act ballet.”

The role is “extremely difficult for the woman,” Virginia says. “She starts the ballet and she is barely off stage at all except maybe at the beginning of the ball before she arrives. So, it’s one of the more demanding roles I’ve ever done. For Brandon, Cinderella’s feet don’t touch the floor when she’s dancing with him. He has to hold her up the whole time.”

The Rameys continue to practice their craft at home. Ballet Memphis recently dropped off “big patches of Marley, the vinyl flooring we use” at their home, Brandon says. “It’s the right consistency. Not too sticky. They dropped that off at all our houses and apartments so we could keep taking classes at home. At least twice a week we have Zoom meetings where one of the artists is leading us in a ballet class for an hour and 15 minutes.”

How did Virginia feel during the two days when the Ballet Memphis Cinderella was supposed to have taken place? “It’s hard to imagine,” she says. “We’ve been self-quarantined so long now that I just can’t believe we would have even been doing Cinderella at the Orpheum [last] weekend. It almost seems like another life right now.”

No Prokofiev music is heard in Cindy’s Big Day. The video opens with the Johann Strauss II waltz, “The Beautiful Blue Danube” and, after Cindy sees the “Cancelled” sign, Roy Orbison’s “Dreams” begins. The last scene ends with Orbison holding the word “dream” with his beautiful voice, Brandon says. “And you see Ginny tucking herself into bed at night. And dreaming of a future where we can gather to put on shows again.”

Click here to watch the video: https://www.facebook.com/brandon.j.ramey.9/videos/10156739042347084/

Categories
Intermission Impossible Theater

Alvin Ailey Fires Memphis Up at the Orpheum

Photo by Andrew Eccles

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

Last weekend’s string of performances by The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater at the Orpheum Theater revealed a lot about this city’s enthusiasm for world-class modern dance. While the Orpheum regularly brings in high-caliber touring shows, it might be said that two hours of abstract movement could be a harder sell in cities away from the coasts. But that would be dead wrong. The chemistry between the audience and the dancers was palpable in these shows, lifting both to truly inspired heights.

From the beginning, the melding of music and pure movement revealed wide-reaching imaginations at work. As the strains of Bach’s Trio Sonata No. 6 in G major played, a solitary dancer peppered her balletic movements with echoes of African dance, a tendency that only grew more pronounced as she was joined by others and the music morphed first to some swinging Mary Lou Williams and then on to the actual African sounds of Yao Ababio and Kofi Osei Williams.

A brief pause, and suddenly we were riding, with two virtuostic, acrobatic dancers, on the roller coaster of an Ella Fitzgerald scat. Only in a moment when Ella went down for some guttural growls did other dancers appear, a line of veritable Oompa-Loompas marching through in a line as if to emphasize the singer’s stark melodic lines; and they never showed again: in that moment, the inspiration was pure, graphic whimsy.

That mood shifted yet again in the powerful “Ode,” which just debuted last October, and was described as “a flower on the graves of the innocent victims of gun violence and a meditation on the beauty and fragility of life.” To music (jazz great Don Pullen’s “Suite (Sweet) Malcolm (Part 1, Memories and Gunshots)”) alternately tortured and angular, then full of flowing chords reminiscent of Debussy, six men twisted through a painful journey, only to end as it began, with one of them lying prone, the others bent over him in a tableau.

Throughout, the sets were sparse, yet effective: a splash of light suggesting noirish Venetian blinds, a simple illuminated circle and subtle shades of color, a river suggested by two narrow sheets of fabric, stretched taut across the stage. Using the simplest effects, and uncomplicated costumes, a universe was suggested for each piece. Inevitably, the finales brought a roar of applause and appreciative hoots of enthusiasm from the nearly full house. “Yes!” Memphis seemed to be saying, “Yes to these meditations embodied by some of the world’s strongest and most expressive dancers.”

The grand finale, of course, was the latest iteration of the Ailey classic, “Revelations.” First performed in 1960, the piece has lost none of its power, especially in a city like Memphis, so steeped in the ecstatic services of African-American churches. And though the piece has been centered on the same collection of African-American spirituals, song-sermons, gospel songs, and holy blues as ever, the versions used today create a perfect musical balance between pristine recordings of voices and drums alike, and the inherent grit and groove of songs created before recordings were even possible.

By the end, the dancers could barely rest from the audience’s demand for encore bows, ultimately reprising a bit of the last piece in exultant joy. It was a passionate reminder of the aesthetic heights that can be reached by this most visionary and venturesome of American dance institutions.