Night on the Town

A Dancers Among Us Fantasy

 Jason and Steve were too cute to be alone,

Too sexy to stay at home.

"We can't just watch another episode of Girls," they moaned.

"That show gets us all riled up!" they groaned.

"Let's go find some girls of our own!"

Christina, Abby and Sarah were too cute to be alone,

Too sexy to stay at home.

"We can't just watch another episode of Hung," they moaned.

"That show gets us all riled up!" they groaned.

"Let's go find some boys of our own!"

Like dogs sniffing for a scent,

The boys would not relent.

They hit twenty bars that night,

Before they saw a most magnificent sight:

Three sirens waiting with delight.

Liquid courage is the name

For what you do when you got no game.

And with three girls and just two boys,

Even the coolest guys would lose their poise.

The girls were willing to wait around

For the boys to buy another round.

It was getting late and nobody looked better,

The only other dude at the bar was wearing a fraternity sweater.

The boys said little, and that was smart.

They didn't have the skill to melt a woman's heart.

Their bodies were great and their bearded faces pretty,

So who cares if their stories weren't very witty.

At least they would pay for a cab ride through the city!

www.dancersamongus.com

Dancers Abby Silva Gavezzoli, Christina Ilisije, Sarah Braverman, Steven Vaughn and Jason Macdonald of Parsons Dance

Lighting by Broncolor

Honoring the Heroes Who Save Lives

This photo, titled "Saving Lives", is featured in the WORKING chapter of Dancers Among Us.

My friend Kevin Ban is a doctor at Beth Israel Medical Center in Boston, and last year he got me access to their Emergency Department. Welcoming me with open arms were volunteers, nurses, residents and security personnel. I hoped to create an image that would honor their heroic work.

Fortunately, it was a slow night in the ER. I asked the staff for a triage room, a bunch of residents in scrubs, a heart monitor and a defibrillator. They made the room look completely authentic, down to the mess on the floor, the activity around the patient, and the placement of the defibrillators on his chest. 

"You want blood? There should be lots of blood on the floor!"

I drew the line at blood.

Jim Hennessey, a local photographer who was along for the ride, was kind enough to volunteer for heart failure. Duncan Lyle was a dancer with Boston Ballet who was about to move to American Ballet Theatre in New York City, so I allowed myself to dream- maybe he could do the impossible and jump high enough to seemingly levitate over the patient like a guardian angel.

Sometimes dreams come true. 

This Simply BLOWS MY MIND!

I received this stunning email last week. I am humbled and inspired by Amy Oestreicher's story. Please take the time to read this letter and watch her Today Show segment. It will put everything in perspective.

Dear Mr. Matter,

I never anticipated that a casual browse through my local Barnes & Nobles would lead to such a beautiful discovery. Your book Dancers Among Us caught my eye, as I am a dancer myself. I sat down with the book of photographs and inspiring writing, and I couldn’t put it down. I was actually brought to tears by the sheer beauty of every moment you captured. You were able to bring the most mundane activities to life, set our everyday routines to music, and bring such joy to my day.

Every time I visited that bookstore, I found myself drawn to the same aisle, the same shelf, the same book. Your photographs stayed in my head like a melody and I couldn’t stop looking at each page. Finally, I decided to buy the book – I had to have it for myself, but also, a book so special needs to be shared with someone you love – it is too good of a book to keep all to yourself. I purchased it and couldn’t wait to share it with my parents.

That night, I excitedly brought your book to dinner – wrapped in tissue paper and packed with a card explaining all that your book meant to me and everything I hoped it would bring them as well. My mother – very intrigued – took the book and flipped to the back to read about the photographer. I never expected what was to follow.

“Amy! You know who this is?”
“I don’t know – who?”
“Jordan Matter! He did your headshots when you were 17!”

I put my fork down and took a closer look. We immediately looked up your website and recognized you as my old headshot photographer. But those headshots meant so much more to me than just something to be stapled to the back of my resume. Those pictures were my last reminder of a life that seems so very far away, a life of innocence, joy, and carefree youth.

You took those headshots in the Cloisters in January 2005. It was a chilly day but the sun was shining so brightly and the light captured my eyes so beautifully. I was 17 and got many auditions and roles with those headshots. In April 2005, those pictures suddenly became a keepsake for my parents to hold onto to maintain hope. On April 25th 2005, my senior year of high school, I abruptly developed a blood clot and fell into a coma for months. When I awoke, I was told that I had no stomach anymore, I couldn’t eat or drink, and no one knew when or if I would ever be able to again. I was not surgically reconnected for another three years. Countless doctors, seven hospitals, and 27 surgeries later, I stand here, strong and vital, full of life, grateful to be here, but very tried and tested. I do feel like I was abruptly pulled out of my adolescence, thrown to the wolves, and placed in a completely alternate life. I never was able to go to college, and have missed out on many opportunities and things I once aspired to as a naïve teenager.

However, despite being hooked up and plugged into beeping machines, having tubes and bags and other appliances stuck to me, and being a medical guinea pig for years, I managed to star in two musicals, start a chocolate business, a food blog, learn yoga and karate, teach nursery school, and maintain joy in my every day life no matter how bleak the circumstances were. I recently just wrote, directed and performed in my own one-woman show “Gutless & Grateful: A Musical Feast” which ran at the Triad Theatre in NYC, which tells of my medical adventures. Like your photographs, I have managed to find the “dance” in the every day – I have even found the “dance” and music, light and hope in the dark, dismal hopeless times.

I believe that you can’t survive without hope, art, and laughter to get you through. I believe that life is a dance – we are constantly balancing priorities and dancing with fear, risk, danger, adventure, and dreams. Maybe this is why your photographs touched me so deeply. I would not be alive today if I didn’t dance my way through my obstacles as gracefully as I could – sometimes not so gracefully, but I felt the music in it either way. My spirit has kept me here and fighting, dancing all the way through.

I have used your headshots even to this day – thankfully I still look young even though I’m 25! But more importantly, I cling to your headshots with a desperate longing. They are my main connection to the world I once knew, I world that I feel was stolen from me, that I can never get back. When I can’t find the light in my eyes, I see it in your headshots and I find solace and relief.

I have just been accepted into Hampshire College early decision and I am going to attend – God willing – next fall. I might be 25 but I still deserve an education, and life still deserves to go on for me. I have offers to revive my one-woman show at other theatres, because the message of hope, perseverence and determination inspired many people. I am trying to move on from a chaotic eight years, and my medical journey is still not over as I recover from a disastrous three surgery blow I had in November. But my spirit is strong as ever and I will get beyond this.

I feel as though I was meant to find your book at Barnes & Nobles, that I was meant to keep coming back to it day after day. It has added to my fire of resilience, and served as a reminder that in order to get through this, I must dance through it. I must be another dancer among us.

I hope when I am ready to start auditioning again, you are able to do my headshots again. In the meantime, thank you for the beauty and the hope.

All my best,
Amy Oestreicher

 

Watch Amy's inspiring interview on the Today Show here:

Dancers Among Us Valentine's Day E-Cards

Show your friends and loved ones how you feel - send them a Dancers Among Us Valentine's Day e-Card. For the friends, the couples, the engaged, and the married- there is something to share for everyone!

And as Valentine's Day approaches, keep checking back for BRAND NEW Dancers Among Us photos to share!

Click here to send your Valentine's Day e-Card: www.dancersamongus.com/ecards

Slaughterhouse at Night

The stench hits you before you reach Greeley, CO, and when you arrive in town it’s overpowering. It’s the smell of animal slaughter. 

I was in Greeley for a photography job, and to my delight I met Monte Black- a fifty-year-old cowboy turned dancer from Wyoming. We went for a late night drive, and we discovered smoke emanating from behind the fortressed gates of the slaughterhouse. 

I needed to get closer, so we walked right up to the barbed wire fence, ignoring the "No Trespassing" sign. We had to work quickly before security arrived. Monte started improvising.

This last pose struck a cord with me. Monte looked like a rancher reaching through the ashes of the suffering animals towards Heaven, begging for forgiveness. Now we just had to wait for the smoke to thicken. We didn't wait long.

As Monte held his pose, I watched the putrid smoke create beauty around him. I’ve shot in many conditions over the years, and nothing has compared to the penetrating odor of death. If I close my eyes, I can still taste it in my mouth. 

After ten minutes, we got the image that was selected for the "Grieving" chapter of Dancers Among Us: 

As quickly as it came, the smoke disappeared. 

I went back to my hotel and took a thirty minute shower, but there is no soap that cleans where the smell was trapped- beneath my skin. 

The next day I was still mournful, so I decided to capture another melancholy photo. I asked Monte and his wife, Christy (also a dancer), to bring their baby to a desolate train yard. I wanted an image of a mother struggling to remain strong despite many setbacks. Monte played the role of the disconnected husband. 

Sometimes the process is painful but the result is thrilling. That's how I feel about these images. Thank you to Monte, Christy, and Pamela Bob (my friend and collaborator) for helping me tell these sad stories with dignity.

I'm a Selfish Fu*ker

"Let's just take a few quick shots and see what we get."

Famous last words.

Dancer Marissa Quimby and I were caught driving in a rare and record-breaking Seattle blizzard. The roads were impossible to manage, so we pulled over next to this sign.

Given the way Marissa was dressed, the location seemed perfect for a Dancers Among Us photo, but what could she possibly do in these conditions? My hands were barely functioning after two minutes, so I couldn't imagine her legs were particularly warmed up. She looked frozen solid.

So I did what any purely selfish individual would do- I ignored her discomfort and suggested a standing leap! I asked Marissa to jump like she was running into the mission for safety from the cold. Her first jump mimicked her standing position.

Her crossed arms closed her off a bit, so she put her hands in the sweatshirt instead. Minutes later, the heavens opened up. After twenty-five jumps, we had our shot.

Here is the photo that ended up in the Dancers Among Us "Grieving" chapter, titled, "Out in the Cold":

Remember what I said about being selfish? Well, that charming little quality of mine was in full force. Though I had an amazing photo, and Marissa had escaped injury and frostbite, and we were both freezing and soaking wet, and my hands were barely working anymore, and it was almost impossible to focus through the snow, and the viewfinder kept steaming up, I said my favorite five words: 

"Let's try a few more."

Marissa did another 110 jumps. I believe she would have kept going, but my hands gave out before her legs did. Given the conditions, it's amazing how many shots I love. Two of my very favorite images came at the end:

This week I am offering a 16x20" print of "Out in the Cold" for $75, and all the proceeds will go to benefit K.I.D.S (Kids In Distressed Situations). Maybe I'm not completely selfish. 

To help warm a child this winter, purchase your print here: www.dancersamongus.com/prints

Martin Luther King, Through a Child's Eyes

"Daddy, want to play Martin Luther King with me?"

My seven-year-old son, Hudson, had just returned from his first grade class, where he had learned about Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr. He wanted to act out the story. He had a toy plane set up as a bus, and he was lining up Playmobil figurines to represent the passengers. There was a solitary black woman sitting among the white figurines.

A police officer figurine walked on to the bus. "You have to stand up. This bus is for white people only. Oh, you won't move? Okay, you're in jail."

I interrupted his game. "Hudson, why do you think he did that?"

He looked at me blankly. "I don't know."

He returned to his game. I went into the kitchen. When I came back, Martin Luther King had been shot. A crowd had gathered, and Hudson was playing all the roles.

"What happened?"

"A bad man shot him."

"Why?"

"Because he thought everyone should be the same and that made the bad man angry."

Hudson stopped playing suddenly and looked up at me. "They caught the bad guy, right Daddy? Is he in jail? Why was he so angry? Why did he kill Martin Luther King? He didn't do anything bad."

I realized in that moment how difficult it is to explain prejudice; it's a foreign concept to an innocent mind. I looked down at this gruesome scenario he had created, and saw the confusion in his eyes, and I had no words of reassurance.

"I honestly don't know, Hudson."

His eyes brightened suddenly. "I want to be a leader, too. Just like Martin Luther King. I can help people, too."

My heart swelled, not with parental pride but with the humility of seeing humanity at its best. There is a famous quote by Bansky: "They say you die twice. One time when the breath leaves your body, and a second time when somebody says your name for the last time." In this way, heroes like Martin Luther King, Jr. will never die.

"After" in the Grieving chapter of Dancers Among Us, 

featuring Chloe Crade at Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, IL