My Favorite Figure Skating Routines

I can't believe I haven't spoken about skating yet in this blog. My love of skating came from my mother, Jean, who was a competitive roller skater. She knew John Carroll, of Michelle Kwan coaching fame, and we would watch it together throughout my life. We had rivalries, particularly the 1994 pairs competition where she preferred Gordeeyeva and Grinkov, and I liked Mishkutenok and Dmitriev, and much later, her pushing Shoma Uno, whose name she never mastered, and my rooting for Yuzuru Hanyu. 

We agreed far more than we disagreed. We weren't unique in our love of skating in the 1990s, and Michelle Kwan has to be the name most identified from this era. Her performances of Lyra Angelica are marvelous, and she got a bummer skating order in the 98 Olympics, but at Nationals, she went near last and just wowed, especially given that she was injured. She always brought the drama, but performing that triple lutz at the end, the one that hurt the most, was just extraordinary. 

Another of her performances that stays with me, with the "OH!" and "Wow!" by Dick Button and Peggy Fleming at the end, is Salome. Oh, wow, indeed. Mom and I loved Lu Chen, who she edged out here, but this was phenomenal. And, the end of Tosca, never will there be another straight line sequence like it. By this time, she had been beaten at the Olympics twice by up-and-comers, and she kept on keeping on. 

After trying, and failing, to gold at the Olympics, her "Fields of Gold" exhibition performance brings me to tears every time. Class, style and emotion. She deserved an Olympic gold but was poised and dignified in defeat.

I will talk about Rudy Galindo later, and he was half of an amazing pair that I had such hopes for, but tragedy had a say in things for him. But another bright spot of America's weak pairs program were the Curruthers. Adopted siblings from different biological parents, they were wonderful people and their joy in the 1984 Olympics, from her especially, led my 14 year old self to feel they were robbed. I still feel this way; the Soviets had an error and were dreary, and anti-Russian sentiment aside, Kitty and Peter won the night. She just could not contain her love in the final spin and hugs her brother, inspiring endearment. "We did what WE wanted to do". They did, indeed, and should have won, period.

To prove I don't hate Russians, my love for Mishkutenok and Dmitriev cannot be overstated. They had drama and flair. In the 1992 Olympics, she wore her old costume out of superstition. They were unchallenged that year and she had definite nerves and made mistakes, but the final third is pure artistry. Two years later, they were perfect, but she was still scared after a fall on the lift in practice; her legendary coach Tamara Moskvina had to hypnotize her. He seemingly collapsed in relief at the end of the short program. No shade to Gordeeyeva and Grinkov, but Natalia was a lot heavier than Ekaterina, and M&D's performance was more engaging. The rivalry was billed as perfection versus passion, and the perfection was not delivered; Sergei Grinkov messed up two jumps and spun one more rotation in their side-by-side spin. Natalia and Artur were passionate for sure, this time in matching costumes, and she was perfect. He rips his costume at the end to show his red heart. Of course, Sergei died not long after, and Dmitriev came back with another partner, and still the drama, this time with the death spiral, and Katiya was there applauding him as he won his second Olympic gold medal. The pairs event in 94 was disappointing for another of my favorites, Brasseur and Eisler; this little lady was made of iron. They were world champions the year before and sentimental favorites, and their performance was better received than G&G's. Since G&G were favored by my mother (I think she just loved Katiya, and who didn't?) and others with inside skating knowledge, I guess they know something I don't. M&D came back in 94 because Natalia wanted to skate cleanly, and she did and D&D didn't. I'm still bitter. 

Let's talk about Shoma. My mother could only call him the little Japanese guy. He was singing at the end of this dramatic version of Nessum Dorma. The commentator was complementing his speed when she had to interrupt with "Oh! Amazing!". He was. In his last appearance at the world championship, which he won on the three previous occasions, he had a quiet but powerful short program to Clair de Lune which I knew Mom was appreciating from heaven.

Another bookend career examination, this time of my favorite, Yuzuru Hanyu, positively bursting with ambition from the outset of his Romeo + Juliet program in the 2012 World's. There are so many fantastic moments here that previewed his greatness to come. His fierce yell after dramatically holding an A-Frame spin lives rent free in my head. Even his fall in the footwork calls to mind a young, fallible Romeo. Tracy Wilson's commentary previews their relationship as coach and student, as she marvels at his deep knee bend and his fantastic recovery after the fall. 

So many highlights when speaking of Yuzuru, and obviously his performance of Seimei at his second Olympics was mesmerizing and strong, again, he was injured and yet hung on to the jumps like a master. He rocked the Phantom of the Opera and PRINCE! He is a legend.

Paul. Paul Wylie was always a favorite because he had a regal carriage and interesting choreography. Before the 1992 Olympics, I had a friend watch his flawed but beautiful program at Nationals. He never really succeeded because he was studying at Harvard while a competitive skater, but I always loved him, and the fact that he was a babe didn't hurt. And then, after always being an also-ran, he delivered a beautiful short program in Albertville. He was in third place, and if his reputation was of a strong competitor, he should have been even higher. Then, he had his moment. That beauty of a program that I loved, flaws and all, so much, was delivered to the French crowd who ATE IT UP. He ended up with the silver medal, and it was an amazing story. 

Overall most masterful performance, from a technical and artistic standpoint, skating to Phillip Glass, is Nathan Chen. This performance, with no spectators other than the already COVID tested fellow athletes and coaches, was beautiful and powerful. His costume this year was a completely color-free version of his classic Polovtsian Dances Prince Igor and his skate was sublime.

But my favorite performance, emotional category, altogether what skating is about, is Rudy's. Man, that kid had no luck if he didn't have bad luck. A promising pairs skater, with Kristi Yamaguchi, she ditched him to focus on singles. Rudy Galindo had grace and carriage and was a dependable partner in their adorable pair, but struggled as a single act. He almost gave up. No one was paying any attention. And then they announce that Nationals would be in San Jose, his hometown, and so he thought, "one more try". Boy, were we in for a treat. Again, his short was masterful, but his reputation had him lower than he deserved. And then he took to the ice for his long, to Swan Lake, and the crowd was evidently behind him from the start. What a show, what a triumph!. He felt welcomed and at home, even waving to a friend during his program - talk about command. It is worth watching in full, with a bit of context (he is walking in his trailer park community: a true underdog): 

Rudy Galindo, 1996 National Championship

This is what skating is. Years of hard work and struggle in obscurity, and then sharing your success with others, moving people with the beauty of your craft. Dick Button nearly loses it after his first jumping pass, and is completely captivated by the end, when Rudy touches his heart in his final spin. He went on to win the World bronze medal, and was as adored there as he was in San Jose, making a sweet swan song to a man with potential finally realized. Funny how he shares his name with Rudy Ruettiger, the kid with a dream to play for Notre Dame. The glory of your day in the sun, crowds cheering and weeping with joy. A dream.

70 Up A Very Fitting End

 I just finished the 7 Up! series. What a ride! It is LIFE, and life is a ride. It is meant to be enjoyed.

There's a lot to learn from this particular episode, 70 Up, because the participants are as old and as wise as we'll ever get to see them. Peter sings a song that had a line I want to highlight, "You just keep on chasing, no matter how far, something that was there all along". That reminds me of what I said about Neil, Peter's childhood mate, regarding his butterfly story; I said, "To realize after decades that you had it right when you were wee is part of the beauty of aging." 

Neil seems content, as he has since 56, when he started "taking positive action". That's a relief, because he may have had serious problems, but he was always philosophical and balanced. Peter, too, references depression, the same thing that altered Neil's life. What a shame that these two childhood friends had to suffer in solitude, when we now know that, as Neil so eloquently puts it, it's not something you chose, it's something you are. 

I knew that Nick died, but, seeing him in 70 Up was shocking. He was very much a man facing a very real mortality. Having been such a delightful child and a thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful man, he now appeared gaunt and colorless, but, even having suffered a stroke, he retained his acumen and exquisiteness. I am so glad that he made it into 70 Up, despite dying at age 65. "In my life, there's always been another episode of this coming up, so I'll miss it." Then the film cuts to what he said in 56 Up, about a time-lapse of a flower blossoming and then dying. He says, "Well, seeing that with a person is also amazing, because we don't see that. We're so busy seeing the day-to-day life of a person, that we don't see the big picture of how they change over time."

The point of the series, repeated over the 63 years it ran, was to prove the Jesuit maxim "give me a child of 7, and I will give you the man". The participants disagree about whether that's true or not, but this could never be settled, and it doesn't matter. They start to get emotional as the interviews come to a close. And I, too, choked up. It was an honor to see these people grow and change, and yet remain the same characters we met at 7. Jackie breaks down, twice, saying "thank you" at the end. No, Jackie, thank you, and all the others for showing us what it is to have a human life. Cheers!

I'm Crying Already - 70 Up! "Bows Out"

The Up! series is my obsession. I could not have, being born in 1968, followed this since the beginning, but fortuitously I found it on youtube after 49 Up! was filmed. I looked forward to 56 Up! and 63 Up! since then, and now, a mere 5 days away from the finale: 70 Up!

For the uninitiated, briefly, a British start-up television station made a documentary about 7 year-olds in 1964. Not notable, until someone decided 7 years later to check in on the now 14 year-olds, and so on, every 7 years, until today. The posh children grew up to be ho-hum adults, but the other children have had roller coaster lives. My favorites are/were Neil, Lynn, Paul, Symon and Nick. Unfortunately, I have to use "were" for Lynn and Nick, as they both passed away. Originally designed to showcase the British class system, the series has everything that life doles out to everyone: bright eyed innocence, surly teens, anxious young adults, love, marriage, children, affairs, divorce, single parenthood, illness, homelessness, itineracy, redundancy (unemployment), education and career, immigration, cancel culture, mental health issues, death and on and on. Truly special. 

From upper left across: 1st: Paul, Nick, Lynn 2nd: Andrew, Neil
Symon 3rd: Jackie, Bruce, Sue 4th: Peter, Suzy, and Tony

My favorite moments were when Jackie told off director Michael Apted for his earlier sexism (which, I think was mitigated by the addition of Paul's wife, Sue, and Symon's wife, Vienneta - they are sharp!), Nick looking dreamy back on the farm at 21, the way Apted introduced Jackie's 2 youngest sons, Paul talking about not wanting to eat greens (c'MON, that boy is adorable and he grew into an adorable old man. "No, sir" and "what's university?" - the kid had comedic timing), Lynn and Nick facing their mortality with brave stoicism, Symon stating in 28 Up! that he "had a couple of kids" (um, that would be FIVE) and altruistic Bruce becoming a husband and a father after a long wait. I even loved Suzy's dog, who stole the 7 Plus 7 installment when he caught a rabbit. But, the true drama was Neil. That man had the world living on the edge along with him. He dealt with homelessness and mental illness, but persevered and maintained his eloquence throughout. (When discussing the public toilets he fought for in his ward, he says "I can assure you, no more fierce battle has been fought either on the playing field or indeed on the battlefields of England to save what may appear to be a comparatively insignificant local amenity") His story about the butterfly KILLS ME. The way it is edited to show his young, idealized self unselfconsciously dancing is unadulterated poetry. To realize after decades that you had it right when you were wee is part of the beauty of aging.

Nick's story, too, moved me. As someone who was forced to leave her home and family of her youth, I could relate to him having to leave his boyhood farm to pursue his unfulfilled dream in a foreign land. He, most of all, seemed to understand the power of the series and what it represented to people. In 63 Up!, he spoke of his dire prognosis, and will appear in 70 Up! after his premature death after informing Apted's producer, Claire Lewis, that he'd like to film his coda. And that was the impetus for 70 Up!, even though Apted, too, had passed away before Nick. Nick passed just hours after this interview; he loved and honored this project until the the very end. Like Neil, Nick was thoughtful and deep, and, did I mention, hot?

Lynn was the first to die, and she knew that she suffered a life-threatening condition for the last 2 installments before her death. Always matter-of-fact, her nearly losing her composure, and then telling Apted "You'd better cut it or I'm going to cry" while moving out of frame is hard to witness. She worked in education and helped the most needy. Her big heart was always on display. She never minced words. She was a force of good and made the world a better place.

So, inevitably, we will be focusing on the losses in 70 Up!, but hopefully with a love of life and living that has been central to the series. As Nick said, "It's not an accurate picture of me, but it is an accurate picture of someone", and that universality will have us, I'm certain, crying tears of joy when the curtain falls on the "Bayeux Tapestry" of documentaries.