sandik

We have, from time to time, indulged in fantasy casting and programming. Several years ago, when the summer performance calendar was less plump, we would often have the online equivalent of the dog days conversations (a term from old-school journalism -- stories about stray dogs and other things in the summer when it was too hot to do other reporting). If you have a wish list for your local company, or a more ambitious wish list for a company to be created later (call it "If I Were Diaghilev"), bring it forth -- we'd love to see it. And perhaps it will kick start some other commentary.

Another term for this is a preview. In general, you don't preview shows that you think are going to tank (unless it's got someone newsworthy in the cast or the production team), but you can, within the context of the article, point out places that look like they will be challenging. But mostly, as I think of it, a preview is a story about the work in the director's/choreographer's head -- a review is a story about the work that you see in performance.

I've had several conversations with sports writers about how they cover their beat -- I haven't yet referred to "the stats" when it comes to dance, but tickled to see it here!

I'm sorry to see the end of this company as well -- we've only had a taste of Alston here in the upper left hand corner, but it was prime. I don't know that he'll be making much in the freelance world, so it's really a significant loss.

Twyla Tharp made Bad Smells in 1984, which was a fairly violent work that included a live videographer -- he walked among the dancers and shot what they were doing and it was projected onto the back scrim, so that you saw very small details in very large scale. There was one sequence where a man pulled a woman's head back by her hair -- you could see her scalp lift slightly off her skull as he tightened his grip. Yes, it was pretty grim. (it premiered on the same bill as Nine Sinatra Songs, which made for a very interesting program) It did seem like the secret room that they repurposed for Maria's bedroom in the new production of WSS was pretty removed from the stage, but I've seen plenty of folks trip and fall just stepping over a tapeline. One of the reasons we value live theater, as much as it makes us twinge, is the small possibility of disaster.

Oh, I know that -- I just get so frustrated when general readership (viewership?) programs reinforce that assumption that the audience is totally clue-free and can't appreciate more complex understanding. It's certainly not a traditional theatrical presentation, but it is still a live performance with all the possibilities that includes (both thrilling and ridiculous). We see all kinds of approaches to heritage works in the theater (I've been dipping in and out of Eric Idle's production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado, set in a 1930s seaside resort), and while some of them sit far away from the original work, and some of them may confound or frustrate us, they are legitimate ways to explore the material. We still see stagings of WWS that reproduce as much of the original production as possible -- I think it's ok to try something else as well.

Very glad to raise the profile of this book -- while I loved revisiting familiar authors, I was most tickled by the people I'd never read. I agree, though, that there should be a collection of Kisselgoff's work for the NYT, alongside colleagues like Jack Anderson. They were writing during the dance boom of the 1970s and beyond -- their work is a fantastic record of an incredibly fecund time in American dance. Here's hoping that someone will take that project on!

Oh dear -- Varna has been an institution for many years, and this is a sad piece of news.

Symphonic Variations!

I didn't dislike the movement I could see in the 60 Minutes report, but I didn't feel I could judge the overall staging from the snippets we could see. I'm not a huge fan of multi-screen productions, but I imagine there are plenty of folks who are. In most stagings of the musical I've seen, they've had a difficult time "placing" Maria's bedroom -- the remote camera might make a good job of it here, when they get the technical stuff worked out. I can't say I was impressed with the depth of the interviews. Honestly, the show didn't seem to be in bad shape overall for that point in the process, but the interviewer (I apologize -- I cannot right now remember his name) seemed pretty clue-free about how Broadway shows come together.

Living in the upper left hand corner, we depended on critics like Tobias for a look at the NY dance community. She was a great reporter, as well as a critic -- I'm hoping that someone will anthologize some of her dance writings.

Thanks for the link -- that is indeed a juicy program. Tangentially, I had to wince at the trailer from the Kennedy Center -- they do the same thing that so many groups do with this kind of fast clip edit, and run one piece of music over the whole thing. It makes the pick and grab aspect of the visuals seem even more erratic, and erases any direct rhythmic connection between sound and movement. I often just turn the sound off for stuff like that, so I can concentrate on the movement material. (stepping down from my soapbox) (/rant)

Sticky stuff.

The more we dig into the original sources, and the more we uncover about the chain of restagings that have led us to most of the productions we all cut our teeth on, the more we start to question what we were told were fundamental truths about the ballet. "Giselle is a tragedy from the moment the curtain goes up" -- well, there are plenty of absolute dancing and comic moments involved. "Giselle as a character is doomed because of her weak heart" -- again, not always the case. "Albrecht is the quintessential tragic hero, doomed to be alone after Giselle dies" -- well, sometimes. "Giselle kills herself, so cannot be buried in sacred ground" v "Giselle kills her unborn child, and so cannot..." v "Giselle dies of a broken heart" -- so many options! Having such a good time with all of this!!!

How interesting! We're in such a fascinating time, with ever-more meticulous reconstructions on the one hand, and far-flying reinterpretations on the other. For those of us who love to think about identity, and what makes a certain work itself (reproduceable and recognizable), we are having a splendid time!

Dammit. I'm not surprised -- not because I know anything much at all about Scarlett, because I don't. But I'm so frustrated that people seem to keep making the same stupid mistakes even after seeing how wrong they are, and how they destroy other people. Dammit.

I was out of town for this, and am so sorry to have missed the experience. Studio time is always the best!

A thoroughly enjoyable article about making tiaras and other props. Terry Frank at PNB is retiring -- that was his job there.

And if I'd proofread them, they would be more helpful! The Schorer videos are great!

Oh, twist my arm and make me watch the pas de trois... Not sure where you are in your technical knowledge -- if this is already in your vocabulary, please excuse me. When I first started dancing, I spent some time with movement notation as well, and found that the basic vocabulary for looking at jumps was really helpful. There are essentially 5 kinds of "air work" (jumping), and they have to do with how you get off the ground and how you land. Go up from both feet and land on both feet -- you've got a jump. Take off from one foot and land on the same foot, it's a hop. Take off from one foot and land on the other is a leap. The last two borrow some French from ballet -- from one foot to two feet is an assemble, and the reverse (take off of two and land on one) is a sissone. These terms are not specific to ballet, but they help you see the fundamental categories that all the air work gets sorted into. Your first ask is a two jump sequence, a sissone ouvert (a jump from two feet to one foot ending in an open position, that is, just on one foot) and a version of a temps de fleche (a jump from one foot to the other foot that doesn't really travel much). It's generically called a hitchkick, and you see it in all kinds of dance forms. Done to the back, both legs do a little degage action to the back -- to the front you often this version, where one leg does a develope) Your second ask is a classic two jump sequence, that gets all kinds of variations applied. You've got another sissone (two feet to one foot), this one traveling to the side, and then an assemble (one foot to two feet). In this case, the sissone is fairly low (some fly pretty high) and the assemble gets more loft, which the dancer needs because he's including beats, where the legs close in 5th position the air, before switching that 5th in order to land. Beats are thrilling little things, and very useful in phrases like this since you can basically add as many as you can do. Here he's beating the legs twice, with some very nice separation between each one, before he changes the 5th one more time when he lands. Your third ask is deceptive -- if you just look at the contact of the feet on the floor, you see that it's really a simple saute -- she jumps off one leg and then lands on the same leg with the free leg in arabesque, then takes a little hop (again, a one-to-the-same saute) before stepping on the other foot to do the same sequence to the other side. The tricky bits are that she's getting much of her loft by swinging the free leg up in front of her and then turning to face the other way and beating the legs in the air (trying to bring the lower leg up to match the height of the first one). Like the man in the second example, the beats take this sequence into another level of sparkle. This is a very grueling sequence, and is often done, as it is here, in multiples, which just adds to the challenge. Depending on who you studied with and where they came from, air work often has slightly different names attached to it, but the fundamental actions remain the same. Hope this is helpful.

I don't know enough about the original Myrtha, but Carrie Imler's performances at PNB were quite regal -- she really was the queen of the forest. More detached and eternal than taut and stony (what an evocative adjective for this performance, though!)

It is really quite moving (no pun intended) -- so much of this ballet is about the transformative power of love that this scene of renunciation at the end just fits right in.

There have been sickly Giselles and robust Giselles, ones that hear the dead calling even at the top of the opening act, and ones that seem to have already died before the curtain goes up.

Same difficulty in Seattle screening -- I think it must have been a glitch in the feed.

The Smithsonian has possession of an incredible number of dance photos by Jack Mitchell, who worked with a multitude of artists -- they're making his images of the Ailey company available online. Article is here -- images are here.