This Is a Thing: The "Perfect Split" Meme
In the beginning, there was planking. Remember planking? It was a brilliant little meme, really—annoying as it eventually was to have your Facebook and Instagram feeds cluttered with shots of people lying face-down wherever they could get away with it.
Well, there's a new, and particularly dancer-friendly, awkward-pose meme in town: the "perfect split." A Chinese college student apparently ignited the trend after posting the photo at right of her splitting it out in her dorm room. And the craze took off from there. Now the internets are awash with pics of people showing off their 180s in unlikely locations.
Here's my question: Haven't dancers been taking these types of photos for years? I mean, had Facebook been a thing when I was 15—many, many moons ago—my profile picture probably would've been a photo of me doing my homework in a split. Or watching TV in a split. Or doing a split at the beach. You get the idea. It's pretty standard stuff in dancer-land, and has been for a while.
But I guess I won't dump on a trend that produces images like this:
Because this photo, my friends, encapsulates everything that is wonderful about the world.
Hope you all have a split-tacular weekend!
Well, this brings class videos to a whole new level! Choreographer Phil Wright and dancer Ashley Liai have been together eight-plus years, but she was still in total shock when he proposed to her mid-dance at Millennium Dance Complex earlier this week. Why? Well, the whole thing was unbelievably perfect.
In the dance industry, dancers don't always have a say in what they wear on their bodies. This can get tricky if you're asked to wear something that compromises your own personal values. So what should you do if you find yourself in this sticky situation? We sat down for a Q&A with "Dancing with the Stars" alumn Ashly Costa to answer that very question. Here's what she had to say about the options dancers have surrounding questionable costumes.
The groundwork for Erin Carpenter's company, Nude Barre, began when she was a teenager. At 16, she earned a spot in the residency program at The Kennedy Center in partnership with Dance Theatre of Harlem. "We were required to wear nude—as in, our actual skin tone—tights and shoes," she remembers. Carpenter brought her "sun tan" tights and a pair of pink ballet shoes with her, because that was all she could find. But she wasn't allowed in class because her dancewear didn't match her skin. "I was so embarrassed," she says. "I looked unprepared. I just didn't have the right nudes." Her teacher explained that the dancers dyed their tights and pancaked their shoes.