#dance

I do dance music, and I can be pretty camp myself from time to time. ↗

— Kylie Minogue

#dance #dance music #from time to time #i #i can

I very much like dance and dancers. ↗

— Issey Miyake

#dancers #i #like #much #very

Gay nightclubs offer better dance music. ↗

— Jack Davenport

#dance #dance music #gay #music #nightclubs

For a London play, rehearsal time would be four weeks for the entire show. In films, I'd spend six weeks on the big dance numbers to get them perfect before the actual shooting. ↗

— Jessie Matthews

#before #big #dance #entire #films

Sleep my little baby-oh Sleep until you waken When you wake you'll see the world If I'm not mistaken... Kiss a lover Dance a measure, Find your name And buried treasure... Face your life Its pain, Its pleasure, Leave no path untaken. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#choice #dance #identity #individuality #life

The first time I started choreographing was in the dark, in my living room, with the lights completely out, to some popular music on the radio. I put the radio on full blast and I started moving. I didn't know what it looked like. I didn't want to see it... I had to start in the dark. ↗

— Judith Jamison

#music

In her dance, she controlled the bright paper birds with invisible wires and threads. She played the human: heavy, tied to earth. Her dances weren't pretty or delightful, but they were magical, [...] They called her a dancer and a puppeteer and an artist. They might have called her a witch, and not the good kind either. ↗

— Katherine Catmull

#birds #dances #dancing #human #magic

Change is the only constant in the universe. ↗

— Jim Fargiano

#guidance #happiness-life #spiritual #change

I don't use a crap camera, I don't eat junk, and I'm not going to a dance where the boys are bores ↗

— Adriana Trigiani

#boys #dance #humor #attitude

For some reason, the sight of snow descending on fire always makes me think of the ancient world – legionaries in sheepskin warming themselves at a brazier: mountain altars where offerings glow between wintry pillars; centaurs with torches cantering beside a frozen sea – scattered, unco-ordinated shapes from a fabulous past, infinitely removed from life; and yet bringing with them memories of things real and imagined. These classical projections, and something in the physical attitudes of the men themselves as they turned from the fire, suddenly suggested Poussin’s scene in which the Seasons, hand in hand and facing outward, tread in rhythm to the notes of the lyre that the winged and naked greybeard plays. The image of Time brought thoughts of mortality: of human beings, facing outwards like the Seasons, moving hand in hand in intricate measure: stepping slowly, methodically, sometimes a trifle awkwardly, in evolutions that take recognisable shape: or breaking into seeminly meaningless gyrations, while partners disappear only to reappear again, once more giving pattern to the spectacle: unable to control the melody, unable, perhaps, to control the steps of the dance. ↗

— Anthony Powell

#dance #music #time #art