sandik

I hadn't ever thought of her legs in relationship to the Space Needle, but they do both have a certain elegantly hyerextended look!

Coming back to nibble at this topic again -- I know I'm not being as clear as I'd like, but I'm struggling with this. Of course there is Degas, and those images of Duncan by Rodin and Jose Clara and Max Walkowitz, and the many illustrations from the Diaghilev era of the Ballet Russe (especially Nijinsky) and. and, and... -- artists seem almost compelled to draw dancers, and many of them have done wonderful work, suggesting movement in a way that still photography sometimes cannot, as whitelight mentions. But along side this there is the huge collection of what I can only describe as treacly pictures of dancers -- what my sister and I have always called the scary ballerina (like click on ballet studies). When I see this kind of illustration, especially in kids books, I wonder what image the reader is getting of dance -- if this is what it looks like, what do they think people are doing?

Looking at the cover for the new graphic novel/memoir about dance (in Oct 7 links, but also here Siegel I started thinking about the differences between dancers in photographs and dancers in painting and drawings. The cover image on this book does look at bit like a Will Eisner drawing (though it isn't) in its loopy exaggeration, but I have to admit to wincing just a bit at the image of ballet it projects. What other non-photographic images have people seen, and what do they think about them?

Brenda D-G does make a very cogent argument for the influence of popular dancing (mostly those derived from African American sources) on Balanchine's choreography, especially after his Hollywood and Broadway experiences.

And onto the other topic, what ballet can/should do, I am going to step very lightly and disagree mildly with Alexandra and Leigh. In its core, ballet is indeed about 'what we can be,' but I think the path we use to get to that topic can vary wildly, and along the way can incorporate all kinds of elements. To use an example that's already been mentioned, Tudor's Dark Elegies is at its most powerful when it is seen inside a ballet environment -- his manipulations of the Cecchetti style read most clearly when they are close to their source. Without that context, it is a good piece of choreography, but it is so much more profound when it is seen in that environment.

The dance historian in me is clapping her hands, though I wish we could extend that mandate more broadly. When you think of how many historic novels we assume that everyone has read, or is at least familiar with, how many pieces of classical music or works of visual art that are a part of our general knowledge (the 80s phrase 'cultural literacy' would apply here) and then look at the poverty of our general dance knowledge, it could be very dispiriting.

There are two parallel conversations going on here (Jones's work, and what ballet can/should do), and I'm interested in both, but I want to separate my posts so that I can think more clearly. I would certainly classify myself as a ballet enthusiast, and I like Jones's work very much. I haven't seen his most recent piece, but did see the big theatrical things in the 80s/90s (especially Uncle Tom's Cabin and Still/Here) and have always been interested in the way he tries to bring the world into the theater. I think we saw that as early as Blauvelt Mountain (the duet with Zane where they built a stone wall on stage), but it has become more overt as he's added text to his work. When Croce wrote her essay, it ripped through the dance community, and has been vibrating ever since. Although it has come to be applied to many different issues that we've confronted in the arts (censorship, sexuality, racism are only a few), in the beginning, her objection was about the use of sick people as participants in a performance. "In theater, one chooses what one will be. The cast members of Still/Here -- the sick people whom Jones has signed up -- have no choice other than to be sick." She felt that this intrusion of the real world made her job of critical analysis impossible -- that she couldn't bring herself to judge people on how well they 'performed' being ill. Living with AIDS or cancer couldn't be a performance for her, and to include that reality in an artificial construct was to make it impossibly off-balance. I think that for her, with her deep understanding of abstraction in dance, a person is as much a symbol as an individual onstage -- to put someone with cancer onstage would make them the personification of disease, while they are still the victim of it. To objectify them (in order to write about them analytically) was impossible -- to consider the work of art while the individuals kept their own identity was equally impossible -- it was, as the title of her essay says, "undiscussable." Her concerns are still with us in the dance world -- the recent article in the Guardian about William Forsythe's Three Atmospheric Studies spends as much time examining whether dance can be political as it does the dance itself. And if that wasn't close enough, the author (John O'Mahony) speaks with Croce about this issue and gets the following comments: "Choreographers mix dance with politics because it is the only way to get attention. And get grants too, probably. The importance of a work is equated with the nobility of the sentiment it expresses. I've stopped attending dance attractions because the last thing I want to see is dancers wasting their time on some high-minded godawful piece of choreography. I don't want to be told about Iraq or Bush or Katrina by someone younger and dumber than I am." Aside from the more incendiary comments on new works, I think this is her actual complaint -- the emphasis on subject matter: "The importance of a work is equated with the nobility of the sentiment it expresses." I think, for Croce, the most noble dancing was the most abstract -- that the subject matter was of almost no importance. The showgirls of Who Cares and the denizens of the Elysian fields in Chaconne were equal in their importance as exemplars of classicism. I've had the opportunity to discuss several "undiscussable" things in my writing life, and it has indeed been very difficult, but I am glad that I've done it, and have continued to write and talk about these topics. I have the greatest respect for Croce, as do all my writing colleagues, but these are issues where we each have to make our own decisions, and try to write our way to understanding. Which, honestly, is all we ever do. If you're curious about her viewpoint, the essay is reprinted in her anthology Writing in the Dark. And if you'd like to know more about the response from other critics, in dance and in other fields, there's a lovely small anthology edited by Maurice Berger called The Crisis of Criticism.

That is a great question. I sure don't remember reading much about other companies staging Martins ballets, or non-Martins Diamond Project works. I know someone posted a list of Diamond Project works, but I can't find it right now, and don't have the time to dig, but Pacific Northwest Ballet did Ulysses Dove's 1984 Red Angels last year (they'll be performing his Front Porch of Heaven this year), and I think I remember it in another company's rep as well. There's a fairly substantial video clip from the work at Richard Einhorn's website (the composer) It takes a bit of time to load... http://www.richardeinhorn.com/RedAng/Max4.mov

Wow -- that sounds stunning. I think Wagner would have been quite pleased.

It is possible to create relationships with other groups without an umbrella organization -- here in Seattle some companies have started to cross-promote, so that if you see company A one weekend, they will mention the show that company B is doing the same weekend in their pre-show chat or include flyers for company B in their programs. We've also seen groups offer ticket discounts, so that you come with a ticket stub from one group and you get a couple bucks off your ticket price to the other one. This has started in part because people have been booking so many events on the same weekend that the audience is getting splintered.

For all that I think Blue Snake is pretty dated, I like The Company. I always feel with an Altman film that I'm getting a more nuanced view of the world his characters inhabit and the conflicting elements that go into human behavior. That this particular film is set in a world I know quite well just reinforces that experience. I like Frederick Wiseman's Ballet for many of the same reasons -- his unrelenting tenacity as a filmmaker breaks down so many of the conventions we see in other documentaries -- it's not the traditional dramatic arc, but it's probably the closest we can get to actual cinema verite without breaking the laws about hidden cameras!

There are collegial organizations (like Dance/USA) that exist to foster better communication between companies and to offer mentoring and outright education for things like marketing. I know that there is a certain amount of informal discussion that goes on about programming, but these things are usually seen as specific to the home community of the company -- the idea that you would present a work primarily to draw a 'tourist' audience is more familiar in the visual arts (and in opera -- think of those 'have Ring, will travel' enthusiasts). I know I travel to see dance, and know others who do as well, but we are not really seen as a large enough contingent to be statistically significant. Unfortunately, an umbrella organization that was charged with promoting ballet as a whole would most likely be seen as drawing resouces away from individual companies -- funding is always a core issue...

We're seeing this in Seattle right now (opened Thursday, and finishes a week from today) and I was struck again by the precipitous nature of the solo -- it starts and just keeps powering through, heightened by the busy, busy score.

Oh Leigh -- many thanks for the reminder! Off to 'shop' at the website!

Several years ago I had the opportunity to interview Claire Lauche Porter, who was dancing at the San Francisco Opera when Bolm came there -- she was so enthusiastic about his work and his aesthetic -- even after many years she still had a very vivid kinesthetic memory of dancing in his works, especially a Bach cycle he made there.

Thanks indeed -- these are great! And yes, Uday Shankar was a very well-known dancer in the 20's and forward. He toured with Pavlova, and was, for many people in the US, the first example of Indian dance they saw.

It's so interesting to watch dancers become confident on stage -- willing to stand there and, in effect, say "look at me." It's particularly fascinating to see that in the the transition between corps and solo roles. I do remember some awkwardness at first -- like many people, I think he was trying to rely on his technique to see him through the performative stuff, but he's made such strides since that time.

It's not nice to make me laugh so hard I spit at the screen.

Interesting that your view of Herd is grounded in his work as a partner -- my first distinct memories of him are in solo bits, where his physicality gave him an extra push that made him stand out. (a moment in Kent Stowell's Silver Linings -- I can't remember the name of the song but it's a male romp where Herd gave just that much more to the high points of his part. Anatomically it's about quickness and power, which translates in more colloquial terms to something like a punch, a bit like a flashbulb going off.) He's certainly got skills as a partner, and he seems to be developing a rapport with Korbes that I look forward to seeing this season, but the "picture" in my head is still an individual one.

I thought it was a bit odd that Boal actually never said their names -- he said they were being promoted, and that they were the next performers, but he never said their names. I doubt it was intentional, but it made the whole thing seem very hush-hush!

I watched part of this program as well, though I missed the reference to the blue/brown experiment. It was, as far as I know, first done in the 1960's, when our public understanding of prejudice was considerably less extensive, and I think was a groundbreaking and legitimate project for the teacher and her students. That it still seems to be a 'new' idea today says something about the glacial pace of some kinds of social change. I agree, the inclusion of the Pennsylvania Ballet seemed rather perfunctory, the inevitable nod to "well, aren't they all gay?" I don't really expect 20/20 to break much ground in social commentary, but I do think they are a reasonable reflection of current middle-of-the-road attitudes.

And hi Doug! I know that's how the roles are described in T and V, but it was seeing the term in a couple of different places within a day of each 'sighting' that made me wonder about the position and how it fits in contemporary companies.

Carbro's reference to "defacto demisoloists" here http://ballettalk.invisionzone.com/index.p...=0entry189815 caught my eye, in part because I'd just see the term "demisoloist" in a Pacific Northwest Ballet press release, referring to several members of the corps de ballet who frequently perform roles 'above their rank.' I know that some companies (mostly older European ones) actually have the demisoloist rank in their hierarchy, but I can't think of too many American companies that do. Here in Seattle I think it's being used primarily as an honorary title ("we can't afford to promote you to soloist because there's no room in the budget, but we know that you perform those kinds of roles") -- does anyone else see that term used in their own community, and if so, how is it applied?

Perhaps I'm being too sanguine, but I think it's interesting that he would use dancers' names, whatever the actual dresses look like -- that he expects people to recognize the names as dancers' names is rather cheerful.

This reminds me of the old days when people tried to figure out what was happening in the Kremlin by looking at the photos from the May Day parades!