the negative and the print
As usual, I'm taking a while with the promised second and third parts to this post, so I figured that in the meantime, I'd tell you about my performance at my school's talent show this year. It should provide a good backdrop for the aforementioned part 3 anyway.
First off, let me explain how I came up with the routine. I knew an audience of peers would go easy on me, but I still took the planning very seriously. I spent a week just deciding what song to use, finally settling on a Z-Trip remix of the Jackson Five's "I Want You Back." The original, besides being too short, was simply too energetic for me to credibly juggle to. But using a remix seemed perfect to me: the song would be immediately recognizable but not seem old-hat, plus the mix had a modern, relaxed vibe to it that would frame the juggling in a cool-but-not-too-cool atmosphere. (Yes, I really think in these terms sometimes.)
There was just one problem: four minutes is too long for a one-prop juggling routine. At the least, keeping an audience's interest for that long requires consummate performing skills, and I am not a performer. In fact, the talent show would mark my first ever solo public juggling performance for more than about ten people. The length was the main reason it took a week to decide on the song. In the end, I sucked it up and resolved to design the routine for maximal visual variety at my skill level. Besides, like I said, it was my first solo performance; I admit, I wanted to keep the spotlight for as long as plausible, as I might not get another chance.
I remember sitting down with headphones, noting down all the salient points in the music that I wanted the routine to match:
0:00 - start
0:02 - guitar
0:12 - guitar'
0:22 - bass starts
0:31 - bass'
0:41 - drum starts
0:51 - drum'
1:01 - verse starts
1:20 - verse B
1:39 - I want you back
1:50 - verse
2:09 - verse B
2:29 - dance break
2:39 - break'
2:49 - guitar only
2:59 - Michael bops
3:08 - Michael hits "need"
3:18 - verse
3:28 - verse B
3:38 - last "back"
3:47 - drum coda
4:10 - fade starts
4:37 - end
Young Michael Jackson hitting "need" at 3:08 was the climax of the song, and I knew immediately what I wanted to be doing at that moment: juggling 5 balls. See, for a juggler, 5 balls is the great demarcation line. Anyone -- and I mean *anyone*, barring real physical or mental barriers -- can learn to juggle 3 with the proper instruction, and 4 is generally no more than a few weeks' worth of light practice away from 3. But 5... Suffice to say, if you ever see someone juggling 5 objects, he's put a lot of concentrated effort into learning it. Not being particularly gifted with so-called "numbers" juggling myself, I still wasn't comfortable with 5 balls, especially for the stage. But if I was going to perform, it simply had to be in there.
That decided, the next issue was how to occupy the preceding 3 minutes. No problems with the outline: I considered myself a pretty smooth 3 ball juggler, and I definitely knew enough different tricks to take up 2 minutes with that number. Then 1 minute with 4. That would be a bit harder, not necessarily because I didn't have enough tricks in the bag, but because many of them looked too similar to be interesting juxtaposed against one another.
I decided to work on my bread-and-butter 3 first. The standard pattern with 3 is called a "cascade," and I made a choice that I wanted to eschew doing it until the very end of the routine. That is, instead of the usual practice of doing the cascade, then a trick, then back into the cascade, then another trick, I would simply move from trick to trick to trick. This wasn't anything that a lay audience would consciously realize, of course, but I thought it would help on the visual interest front if I never did the same pattern twice. Also, going directly from trick to trick put stringent restrictions on just how I could juggle, and that would help to tighten up my routine.
After some contemplation, it seemed to me that starting with "straight line" tricks, with balls traveling strictly vertically or horizontally, and then moving on to the more sinewy ones was a natural progression. That would also allow me to start off with a mildly humorous trick, both to gain the interest of the audience and to relax what were sure to be frayed nerves on my part. I worked out the possible transitions over the course of a few days and came up with the following list:
3 balls:
2-ball columns
box
extended box
columns
fake columns, both sides
fake columns
crossed-arm fake columns
machine
boston mess
wide reverse cascade
yo-yo
outside burke's barrage
inside burke's barrage
mills mess
fake mills
shower, both ways
shower w/ extra throw
531 mills
crossed-arm reverse cascade
outside 441
inside 441
windmill
reuven-style
(I know this list makes no sense to a non-juggler. I just want to convey my thought process.)
What of 4? The basic pattern with 4 is called a "fountain." It would've been nice to go from trick to trick without returning to the fountain, but I knew I wasn't confident enough for that. Still, I designed it so that if I was feeling good on the day of performance, I could at least theoretically go from trick to trick.
4 balls:
half-shower, side view
half-shower, frontal
tennis
async columns
sync fountain
sync crossing
async fountain
534
552
5551
561
shower
hi-lo shower
dancey's devilment
multiplexes
Overly ambitious, this list. For example, 561 alone was hard for me just to run for the video camera (where I could have ten failed attempts before hitting it on the eleventh) yet here I was, wanting to put it into live performance. However, I figured that intending to have such borderline tricks in the routine, and thus practicing them, would help make my training (and not just designing!) serious. In other words, too easy a routine may have led me to lollygag with the practice, but too hard a routine would better prepare me for the stress of performance. I could always leave out tricks when the time came. Right?
5 balls:
[54]2[22]
cascade
There isn't much more to say about 5 balls. But that was a full minute before the end of the song... How would I end off the routine? With 3 again. Progressing from 3 to 4 to 5 then dropping back down may sound odd, but my flashiest tricks were all with 3.
3:
triplex btb start
clawed
world's fastest trick
2-up, 1-up in 1 hand
right-hand backcrosses w/ half-turn
backcrosses
overhead
finale
The finale proper was a question mark. I wanted to end off on a high note, which meant selecting something that looked difficult to the audience, but I also wanted to have a good chance of pulling it off on stage, which meant that it couldn't be something at the very edge of my skill. There was something I could do that would fit the bill, but I wasn't sure I had the pluck to do it. Until the day of the performance, I made sure to keep a backup finale trick ("drop 1 to half pirouette, throw 2 to full pirouette") in the bag, but I had proved shaky on even the backup in practice. In the end, I went with my original idea, and while it didn't *quite* go as intended, I think it closed the act well enough.
As far as performance, what of everything that preceded that finale? I had about the expected number of drops. (The ugly truth is, in at least a hundred times trying, I never once ran the routine dropless in practice.) I was supposed to be able to run the first three-ball section in my sleep... so I wish I'd been asleep! Then I got completely lost in the four-ball section, taking me "off the score" so to speak, but my flustration led to a moment which I never could've planned. And five balls went as well as I could have realistically hoped, even if I didn't hit the "need" moment I so desperately intended to in designing the routine. Still ahead of the music just before the finale, I threw in my go-to, time-killing trick to good effect, and I already mentioned how I felt about the end.
Anyway, more than enough words about it, check it out for yourself:
Performance (Quicktime)
(if that doesn't work on your computer, try this uber-compatible MPEG-1)
It was a good experience, and I'm quite proud of the result, looking back. At the time, though, I was nervous as shit, but that is another story...
- Cal
First off, let me explain how I came up with the routine. I knew an audience of peers would go easy on me, but I still took the planning very seriously. I spent a week just deciding what song to use, finally settling on a Z-Trip remix of the Jackson Five's "I Want You Back." The original, besides being too short, was simply too energetic for me to credibly juggle to. But using a remix seemed perfect to me: the song would be immediately recognizable but not seem old-hat, plus the mix had a modern, relaxed vibe to it that would frame the juggling in a cool-but-not-too-cool atmosphere. (Yes, I really think in these terms sometimes.)
There was just one problem: four minutes is too long for a one-prop juggling routine. At the least, keeping an audience's interest for that long requires consummate performing skills, and I am not a performer. In fact, the talent show would mark my first ever solo public juggling performance for more than about ten people. The length was the main reason it took a week to decide on the song. In the end, I sucked it up and resolved to design the routine for maximal visual variety at my skill level. Besides, like I said, it was my first solo performance; I admit, I wanted to keep the spotlight for as long as plausible, as I might not get another chance.
I remember sitting down with headphones, noting down all the salient points in the music that I wanted the routine to match:
0:00 - start
0:02 - guitar
0:12 - guitar'
0:22 - bass starts
0:31 - bass'
0:41 - drum starts
0:51 - drum'
1:01 - verse starts
1:20 - verse B
1:39 - I want you back
1:50 - verse
2:09 - verse B
2:29 - dance break
2:39 - break'
2:49 - guitar only
2:59 - Michael bops
3:08 - Michael hits "need"
3:18 - verse
3:28 - verse B
3:38 - last "back"
3:47 - drum coda
4:10 - fade starts
4:37 - end
Young Michael Jackson hitting "need" at 3:08 was the climax of the song, and I knew immediately what I wanted to be doing at that moment: juggling 5 balls. See, for a juggler, 5 balls is the great demarcation line. Anyone -- and I mean *anyone*, barring real physical or mental barriers -- can learn to juggle 3 with the proper instruction, and 4 is generally no more than a few weeks' worth of light practice away from 3. But 5... Suffice to say, if you ever see someone juggling 5 objects, he's put a lot of concentrated effort into learning it. Not being particularly gifted with so-called "numbers" juggling myself, I still wasn't comfortable with 5 balls, especially for the stage. But if I was going to perform, it simply had to be in there.
That decided, the next issue was how to occupy the preceding 3 minutes. No problems with the outline: I considered myself a pretty smooth 3 ball juggler, and I definitely knew enough different tricks to take up 2 minutes with that number. Then 1 minute with 4. That would be a bit harder, not necessarily because I didn't have enough tricks in the bag, but because many of them looked too similar to be interesting juxtaposed against one another.
I decided to work on my bread-and-butter 3 first. The standard pattern with 3 is called a "cascade," and I made a choice that I wanted to eschew doing it until the very end of the routine. That is, instead of the usual practice of doing the cascade, then a trick, then back into the cascade, then another trick, I would simply move from trick to trick to trick. This wasn't anything that a lay audience would consciously realize, of course, but I thought it would help on the visual interest front if I never did the same pattern twice. Also, going directly from trick to trick put stringent restrictions on just how I could juggle, and that would help to tighten up my routine.
After some contemplation, it seemed to me that starting with "straight line" tricks, with balls traveling strictly vertically or horizontally, and then moving on to the more sinewy ones was a natural progression. That would also allow me to start off with a mildly humorous trick, both to gain the interest of the audience and to relax what were sure to be frayed nerves on my part. I worked out the possible transitions over the course of a few days and came up with the following list:
3 balls:
2-ball columns
box
extended box
columns
fake columns, both sides
fake columns
crossed-arm fake columns
machine
boston mess
wide reverse cascade
yo-yo
outside burke's barrage
inside burke's barrage
mills mess
fake mills
shower, both ways
shower w/ extra throw
531 mills
crossed-arm reverse cascade
outside 441
inside 441
windmill
reuven-style
(I know this list makes no sense to a non-juggler. I just want to convey my thought process.)
What of 4? The basic pattern with 4 is called a "fountain." It would've been nice to go from trick to trick without returning to the fountain, but I knew I wasn't confident enough for that. Still, I designed it so that if I was feeling good on the day of performance, I could at least theoretically go from trick to trick.
4 balls:
half-shower, side view
half-shower, frontal
tennis
async columns
sync fountain
sync crossing
async fountain
534
552
5551
561
shower
hi-lo shower
dancey's devilment
multiplexes
Overly ambitious, this list. For example, 561 alone was hard for me just to run for the video camera (where I could have ten failed attempts before hitting it on the eleventh) yet here I was, wanting to put it into live performance. However, I figured that intending to have such borderline tricks in the routine, and thus practicing them, would help make my training (and not just designing!) serious. In other words, too easy a routine may have led me to lollygag with the practice, but too hard a routine would better prepare me for the stress of performance. I could always leave out tricks when the time came. Right?
5 balls:
[54]2[22]
cascade
There isn't much more to say about 5 balls. But that was a full minute before the end of the song... How would I end off the routine? With 3 again. Progressing from 3 to 4 to 5 then dropping back down may sound odd, but my flashiest tricks were all with 3.
3:
triplex btb start
clawed
world's fastest trick
2-up, 1-up in 1 hand
right-hand backcrosses w/ half-turn
backcrosses
overhead
finale
The finale proper was a question mark. I wanted to end off on a high note, which meant selecting something that looked difficult to the audience, but I also wanted to have a good chance of pulling it off on stage, which meant that it couldn't be something at the very edge of my skill. There was something I could do that would fit the bill, but I wasn't sure I had the pluck to do it. Until the day of the performance, I made sure to keep a backup finale trick ("drop 1 to half pirouette, throw 2 to full pirouette") in the bag, but I had proved shaky on even the backup in practice. In the end, I went with my original idea, and while it didn't *quite* go as intended, I think it closed the act well enough.
As far as performance, what of everything that preceded that finale? I had about the expected number of drops. (The ugly truth is, in at least a hundred times trying, I never once ran the routine dropless in practice.) I was supposed to be able to run the first three-ball section in my sleep... so I wish I'd been asleep! Then I got completely lost in the four-ball section, taking me "off the score" so to speak, but my flustration led to a moment which I never could've planned. And five balls went as well as I could have realistically hoped, even if I didn't hit the "need" moment I so desperately intended to in designing the routine. Still ahead of the music just before the finale, I threw in my go-to, time-killing trick to good effect, and I already mentioned how I felt about the end.
Anyway, more than enough words about it, check it out for yourself:
Performance (Quicktime)
(if that doesn't work on your computer, try this uber-compatible MPEG-1)
It was a good experience, and I'm quite proud of the result, looking back. At the time, though, I was nervous as shit, but that is another story...
- Cal