"Rhythmics" Mood Board

So, "Rhythmics" continues to be the best thing ever in all the world of sass. I feel cosmically bonded to it.

I still work out to it from time to time, even though some of the moves rely on such a crazy level of flexibility that I overshoot it and wind up with a knotty back or a janky leg. I don't care.

But "Rhythmics" is about so much more than the choreography. It is an experience for all senses—

sets filled with giant flowers, ribbon drapes, and luminescent bubbles . . . 

interesting staging . . . 

(seriously, look at these artful arrangements of bods; somebody loved this job) . . . 

mood ring lighting . . . 

 and harmonica-kissed krautrock to butt exercises like this.

I return to this enchanted, golden temple when I need inspiration and understanding.

These fancy side plankers know what I'm talking about. 

Gathering these pixelated jewels is like making a mood board . . .

or collecting cool beetles.

It gives me a sense of order in the world . . . 

and renewed faith in mankind.

"Rhythmics" is my lucky star.

 The end.

Again with the "Rhythmics" love?

YES, dear readers. I can't stop. I've been doing "Ритмика" (still trying to figure out how to pronounce it -- any Russian speakers out there?) every day this week. It's freaking fantastic. I've explained why before, here and here, but mostly it just came out like WEWWHWE;H;NACNAC OMG OMG OMGOMG LOVE!!!!!!


Instead of trying again (and inevitably failing) to capture its essence, today I'll focus on the majestical art direction on this show. However chintzy some of the episodes end up looking, the people behind this show knew how to take a couple lean bodies, put them in nature or against a weird conceptual set, and produce some HUMAN BODY HIGH DRAMA. Behold:

Isn't that last one beautiful? Way to turn an ugly-carpeted studio into a perfect picture of post-workout serenity. It doesn't hurt that the dancers are flawless specimens who probably spent their adolescence hyperextending their limbs in rhythmic gymnastics training camps. But they went through all that just so we could feel behooved to work out. How 'bout that!


Oh, and the GIFs. THE GIFs, PEOPLE. They're ripe for the picking. I'll have a fresh basket of 'em next time we take a ramble through "Ритмика." I know you can't wait.

World of Ритмика

What is there to say about this other than noises I'm insufficient in expressing onomatopoetically? 

"Rhymics," or "Ритмика," the Soviet Russian half-hour TV fitness program I first examined here, has become a part of me. Since Friday, I have spent several hours with this show, maybe 40% actually doing it and the rest just watching in awe. Of THINGS LIKE THIS:

I almost can't handle it, you guys. So much going on here that's cranking my gears: krautrocky electropop, lithe n' limber ballerina bodies with perfect carriage and insanely innate-looking epaulement, cry-worthy workoutfits, every kind of set known to man, ballet-meets-b-boy (or meets Russian folk dance, or meets military training) choreography, collector-geek cred, delightful weirdness and, dare I say, sex appeal. I mean --

Saturday Soviet Lagniappe

A rare Saturday post! Had to share this righteous tune, because in the course of all my Eastern European sass exploration this week, it's become my jam for the weekend.

May yours be filled with all the pleasures that disco lights, yachts, underwater chess, 80s bathing suits, dolphins and mustachioed gi-wearing pop singers suggest!

In Soviet TV Land, a disco ball refuge for fallen ballerinas

Continuing my tour through Cold War-era Eastern bloc nations, I’m reporting now from ground zero, Soviet Union state-controlled television. And it’s marvelous!


Welcome to Ритмика, which, if Google translation can be trusted, translates to “Rhythmics,” a half-hour TV fitness show that blends backwater ballet and training camp calisthenics inside a bright white disco ball. It’s a strange animal, this show, and totally worth trying out if you like a) Soviet electronic music, even the chintzy stuff, b) Russian ballerinas and/or pretending to be one (click that link -- girl’s like a real-life Navi, just not blue) and c) testing your choreography-pickup skills. 

Hosted by a young lady who suggests a less-bulky He-Man, these programs are short and sweet, and they have no patience for hand-holding or heavy instruction. She and her leotard-clad troupe of thin-limbed backup exercisers get right to business, and half the fun is following along with their peculiar, oddly elegant combinations. 

It’s not enough to lean from side to side and stretch the adductor muscles, no no. Toss in some flair and feeling and grace, for god’s sake! Add an arm combination and an artful back curl, and maybe some footwork! And don’t forget about your head! What’s it doing? It can’t just be there. Stretch it back, and tilt the chin, and if I have to tell you to keep your chest lifted one more time you may as well not bother coming back.