General Impression/Idea: The Miller outdoors theather is a great place to go for family fun, with a picnic atmothphere day and night, perfect to see some really sublime shows, specially at night.
Body Paragraph:
(This sample paragraph is describing one of the performances at the "Day of The Hispanic Wolrd" Festival at The Miller Outdoor Theather, the performance was early in the night (8ish), before it developed, as do all nights were there is old mexican men and even a TINY amount of alcohol, into a huge singalong of that old mexican drunken song "El Rey", mariachi included, and before the chessiest pop/rock/in-spanish singer on the planet closed the night.)
The stage was a moving painting, the background was a luminescent blue emitting its own soft glow, just like the red lights that shone down on the dancers and created bold scarlet highlights, the red highlights blended with the backdrop’s own blue glow creating darting purple shadows that danced on the dancer’s costumes as they danced themselves, the dancers stomped in harmony with the beat, the peacock feathers on their ancient headdresses trembled heatedly, their headdresses matched their shields, their skirts, and their face paint, all red, blue, green, yellow, orange, white, and black. The young men kept stomping in circles to the music, as one of them broke off, while still stomping to the beat he stepped forward, his red and gold skirt and cape shaking to the music, he lifted his hands and cupped in his palms a fake wooden heart. He held the heart in the air with one hand, colorful feathers dangled from his bracelet, with his other hand he exposed, from somewhere under his cape, a tiny dagger with a light blue handle, the blade on fire with reds, blues, and darting purples, the music was now frantic and the melody forgotten, he stabbed the heart high above his head and then fell to his knees, collapsing in a rapture of passion. The dancers behind him became statues, but the beat continued, now devoid of melodies, slow and steady like a heartbeat, and so the curtain fell, like a cloth covering a painting that is to be moved somewhere, or be left in a cellar.
Body Paragraph:
(This sample paragraph is describing one of the performances at the "Day of The Hispanic Wolrd" Festival at The Miller Outdoor Theather, the performance was early in the night (8ish), before it developed, as do all nights were there is old mexican men and even a TINY amount of alcohol, into a huge singalong of that old mexican drunken song "El Rey", mariachi included, and before the chessiest pop/rock/in-spanish singer on the planet closed the night.)
The stage was a moving painting, the background was a luminescent blue emitting its own soft glow, just like the red lights that shone down on the dancers and created bold scarlet highlights, the red highlights blended with the backdrop’s own blue glow creating darting purple shadows that danced on the dancer’s costumes as they danced themselves, the dancers stomped in harmony with the beat, the peacock feathers on their ancient headdresses trembled heatedly, their headdresses matched their shields, their skirts, and their face paint, all red, blue, green, yellow, orange, white, and black. The young men kept stomping in circles to the music, as one of them broke off, while still stomping to the beat he stepped forward, his red and gold skirt and cape shaking to the music, he lifted his hands and cupped in his palms a fake wooden heart. He held the heart in the air with one hand, colorful feathers dangled from his bracelet, with his other hand he exposed, from somewhere under his cape, a tiny dagger with a light blue handle, the blade on fire with reds, blues, and darting purples, the music was now frantic and the melody forgotten, he stabbed the heart high above his head and then fell to his knees, collapsing in a rapture of passion. The dancers behind him became statues, but the beat continued, now devoid of melodies, slow and steady like a heartbeat, and so the curtain fell, like a cloth covering a painting that is to be moved somewhere, or be left in a cellar.
I enjoyed reading your essay as you described the performances held there amazing. I took the same approach as I when using a live performance to describe a place. All I have to say is that you did great. I see the colors you see because you described with steller sensory detail. Also your metaphors were neat and I got to look up this venue you described.
ReplyDelete