The Hopkins Review

                 —West Side Story, August 1962As soon as we were sure we knew the dancethe choreographer changed it. Insteadof jumping onto the bench from stage left,leap over it from behind. Can you liftyour arms as you land? Riff and A-rab, threadyour way through that line of trash bins, and glanceat each other when you sing the word Jet.Let’s have you start to spin on cigarette.I can hear her smoke-scorched voice even nowurging us to reach for the sky on our lastdying day. Move as one. You are a gang!In the echoing space the mirrored room sangour songs back on us. Don’t twirl, try a fastfan kick and when you hunch and snap, stay low.Forget the very idea of steps but besure you remember the steps themselves—freeyourselves to move the music among youso your bodies contain the whole storyin each step, and the dancing will be true. [End Page 535]