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About Joffrey

Joffrey is a world-class ballet company and dance education organization committed to artistic excellence, presenting a repertoire encompassing masterpieces of the past and cutting-edge works. It provides arts education and accessible dance training through its Joffrey Academy of Dance and Community Engagement programs. It is based in Chicago, Illinois.

Joffrey Headquarters Location

10 E. Randolph St. Joffrey Tower

Chicago, Illinois, 60601,

United States

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Latest Joffrey News

House Of The Dragon follows an ugly Game Of Thrones pattern

Sep 19, 2022

Advertisement As soon as the royal party returns from the Stepstones, Alicent is all over Criston like white on rice; if anyone has the dish on whether Rhaenyra and Daemon did the dirty together, it’s him. But she unwittingly gets him to reveal his own shenanigans with the princess instead, and the truth burns away the last of Alicent’s naivete. Criston, in love with his own image of a disgraced white knight, asks her for the mercy of a swift death rather than the usual torture and castration (classic Westeros). But Alicent knows the usefulness of keeping him around instead. Meanwhile, it’s clear that Viserys’ illness is more than a bad cold. He’s sweaty and feverish, and his entire forearm has gone necrotic from his Iron Throne-inflicted wounds. Alone in his chambers, he has a heart-to-heart with Lyonel that gets to the core of his conflict as a sovereign. (This scene is beautifully acted by Paddy Considine.) Will he go down in legend, even though his reign has been one of relative peace, and he’s never conquered anything like his ancestors did? “Some might call that good fortune,” Lyonel counsels. “But it hardly makes a good song, does it?” Viserys replies. It’s the crux of the problem with House Of The Dragon, but also what sets it apart from Game Of Thrones: Watching an essentially decent man navigate a position of power makes for a dull story. Advertisement Then it’s time for a royal wedding! These always go great in Westeros, if memory serves. Everyone who’s anyone is at a grand feast in the throne room, where the bride-to-be sits in the middle of a long table. As each Targaryen and Velaryon takes a seat, the “Last Supper” imagery is palpable. Not to be denied the chance to stir up trouble, an uninvited Daemon makes a fashionably late entrance. Did I mention that he murdered his wife at the beginning of the episode, then passed it off as a hunting accident? (R.I.P., Rhae Royce. We knew ye for all of two minutes.) But even he’s out-drama-queened by the queen herself, who appears in the middle of the king’s big speech wearing an emerald gown. It’s not an idle fashion choice: According to Larys, green is the color of the flag House Hightower flies when it’s preparing to go to war. Advertisement What follows is an evening of drinking, dancing, and the tastiest gossip this side of Bridgerton. This pre-wedding feast has everything: Rhaenyra and Laenor looking fabulous; Jason Lannister being an ass; Rhae Royce’s cousin (correctly) accusing Daemon of murder; Daemon ditching him to go flirt with the now-adult Laena Valeryon, who flirts right back; and finally, Daemon brazenly sharing a dance with Rhaenyra, during which she calls his bluff and says if he wants her so much, he should kidnap her and take her to Dragonstone. The tension is this episode unspools at just the right pace, and it’s a thrill after the way early episodes dragged. Then there’s the main event: the Rhaenyra-Laenor-Criston-Joffrey love triangle, which has been simmering all night. It reaches a boiling point when Joffrey, who easily identifies Criston as the princess’ fuck buddy, approaches him for a chat, paramour to paramour. He suggests that since they’re both “deeply invested in this union,” they should make a pact to guard their lovers’ secrets as well as their own. Advertisement And for Criston, that’s the straw that breaks the dragon’s back. Amid the swirl of dancers, he tackles Joffrey to the floor and punches him with his gauntleted fist over and over, blood spraying everywhere, until he’s bashed his face into raw meat. The camera lingers on Joffrey’s ruined head, and it’s gratuitous and horrific. Paddy Considine, Milly Alcock, and Theo Nate Photo: Ollie Upton/HBO Advertisement The guests melt away, leaving Laenor weeping over his dead lover’s body. Meanwhile, Criston goes out to the Godswood to kill himself at the tip of his own dagger—but Alicent stops him. We really wish she hadn’t. Any idea of a weeklong celebration forfeit at this point, a priest marries the princess and her consort right there in the ruined hall, between the mangled remains of the feast and a puddle of Joffrey’s blood. Both of them cry as they say their vows. And as if things weren’t bad enough, the ceremony ends with an ailing Viserys collapsing to the flagstones. It’s a union forged in horror, which is par for the course for a Thrones nuptial. But even by Red Wedding standards, this is a lot. Advertisement And I know, I know: Westeros is a brutal place; senseless murder is as common as boiled leather. But in a show where all but two characters are straight, immediately killing one of them sends a very different message—especially when that death is in the service of a heterosexual character’s plotline. It’s the continuation of a pattern from Game Of Thrones, which took a ghoulish glee in punishing its handful of queer characters, from Renly Baratheon to Loras Tyrell to Ellaria Sand. (Only Yara Greyjoy made it out alive.) The most obvious comparison, of course, is bisexual icon Oberyn Martell’s death at the hands of the Mountain, which also ended in full-face mutilation. Advertisement It’s an example of a storytelling trope that media fans and critics have dubbed “ Bury Your Gays .” The trend is as old as the Hays Code, but it’s persisted well into the 21st century. In 2016 , for example, TV writers offed 27 LGBTQ+ characters—a very high number, considering they comprised only 4.8-percent of series regulars. It’s not that LGBTQ+ characters should never die in popular media, and it’s not that Criston’s murder of Joffrey didn’t make sense from a plot perspective. It’s that, given how few and far between these characters are on mainstream television, a plot twist like this normalizes a culture in which queer people’s stories must always and inevitably end in tragedy—and in the service of others’ stories. Advertisement Stray observations There is, of course, a popular backlash against criticism about representation in the Thrones-verse, which tends to go something like this: The world George R.R. Martin created is based on medieval Britain, where the cruelest of cruelties were reserved for the marginalized, violence against women was commonplace, and the population was primarily white. It’s pretty rich to insist on historical verisimilitude when it comes to diversity and women’s subjugation, but not when it comes to dragons, ice zombies, resurrection magic, warging, or shapeshifting assassins. (And if you do want to get pedantic about it, history shows that the population of medieval Europe was much more diverse than media representation suggests.) Viserys’ pick of Lyonel as his new Hand is a good one. The former Master of Laws has consistently been the king’s most reasonable and impartial advisor. But given how these things tend to go, who knows how long that will last? When Viserys and Corlys are negotiating the terms of their children’s marriage, the king makes it clear that he intends the tradition of gender-neutral heirhood to continue after his death: Rhaenyra’s first child will inherit the throne no matter their gender. Rhaenyra and Laenor’s coded conversation about their sexual preferences (“roast duck” versus “roast goose”) feels like a Westerosi homage to the Schitt’s Creek scene in which David Rose uses wine varietals as a metaphor for pansexuality. (“I like the wine and not the label. Does that make sense?” ) Director Clare Kilner makes beautiful use of atmospherics in this episode: The Vale filled with peaceful birdsong immediately before Daemon kills his wife, rain falling on the parapets of High Tide as the Targaryens approach. It’s a potent contrast to the bursts of violence that follow. Continue reading

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  • Where is Joffrey's headquarters?

    Joffrey's headquarters is located at 10 E. Randolph St., Chicago.

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