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Nia in New York
I was visiting friends in New York two weeks ago and hoping to take a Nia class with my BFF. We knew we wanted to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and walk through Central Park, eat, drink and dance. We’ve taken dance classes together since we were kids and it was A who introduced me to modern at Dance Space in NYC. We planned our day from a cafe on Montague Street in Brooklyn Heights, and with the help of an iPhone and the Nia website decided to take a late afternoon class on the UWS.
By the time we climbed the stairs at Ripley-Grier Studios I was emotionally and physically and exhausted, having walked and talked more than I had in two months. But I was also insanely excited to see ABD in action and find out her first impressions of Nia. The space was muggy and close, in a way exactly how I want to feel on an August day in Manhattan. I was smacked with reminiscences of first apartments downtown, trips to the Cloisters way uptown, avocado gazpacho, folk singers, tapestries, undergraduate musings, purple bongs, and the pursuit of art at all costs. We changed out of street clothes and began to stretch quietly, alone for the first few minutes.
We were soon joined by the teacher, Jason Griffin, a Nia black belt, and the rest of the class, 7 of us in all. Three were regulars with class cards, a guy from Mexico City was taking his first class, as was ABD, and then there was me, who felt compelled to confess that though I received my white belt with Debbie and Carlos in Portland, I had not taken a class in over a year. I was pleased to find out that we would be dancing Sanjana, the first choreography I learned. We took a few deep breaths and began the routine.
Fifty minutes later I nearly died of heat exhaustion and pathetically weak thighs. I am badly out of shape and was silently thanking A’s reticence to take an actual dance class where judgment would have prevailed. In Nia it is more than okay to stop what you’re doing, sit down, have some water, contemplate jumping out the window, laugh at yourself, and join back in when you’re ready.
As usual, I wore an ecstatic smile the entire time we were moving, which is amazing after years of self-consciousness and attempts at perfection in techniques that demand absolute grace. Jason is a fantastic teacher, a lovely dancer, a bit of a ham, and encouraging to all. As we descended the stairs my legs were dense hot jelly and we jumped in a taxi to take us across town to our hotel.
That night we dined on fried clam chowder, buttery steamers and Soave at The Mermaid Inn. We agreed it had been a perfectly marvelous day together in the city and we accomplished all of our goals. I encourage everyone to check out Jason’s classes, whenever you happen to be in New York near the Museum of Natural History. Nia rules. End of story.
