Treefrog

Everyone has his or her own threshold, but in my opinion, your concern is not warrented. I can think of three injuries that are shown or commented upon: 1) a muscle strain in the neck (commented on); 2) snapped Achilles tendon (quite sudden, and graphic to the extent that the snap is audible); and 3) arm/shoulder injury, but I can't recall how it happens. There's certainly nothing bloody, no screams or anything. I'm not sure why it would be a problem for your 14YO to see dancers getting injured?

As to the apartments -- I think this can be explained by the fact that people come into their adult lives from different circumstances. Some are relatively rich, some relatively poor. I have no trouble assuming Ry has family money.

To the best of my memory: Fudge is best seen in a short scene after the Knight Bus deposits Harry at the Leaky Cauldron. To Harry's great surprise, Fudge welcomes him; Harry expects to get booted from Hogwarts for having performed magic outside the school. Mrs. Weasley also appears briefly at the Leaky Cauldron, as the family swoops into breakfast. Lily Potter is, I think, only seen once or twice waving in a photograph. Aunt Petunia shows up in the opening scenes with Aunt Marge.

Ah, *children's* historical fiction. My absolute favorite is a coming-of-age story by Marchette Chute set in Elizabethan England. It follows a young lad of means who is being raised -- unhappily -- by his stern spinster aunts. He runs away to London, falls in with a company of actors -- among whom is the man he comes to idolize, Will Shakespeare -- and becomes something of a supernumerary in the company. All the while, he finds comfort and love as an adopted member in the family of one of the actors. When the season is over, and he has matured considerably, he faces a choice: continue with his new life in the city, or return to his roots, his obligations, and his natal family? It is called "The Wonderful Winter".

Jean-Baptiste Arban (based on a Google search).

I enjoyed The Other Boleyn Girl, which I heard about on this board! My favorite historical fiction is Stephen O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series (the basis for the recent movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, which has the curious property of merging titles from two different books in the series). It helps to know a bit about sailing, but even so, it's best to just let the nautical stuff wash over you. What's really wonderful are the characters and their relationships, not to mention the meticulous historical accuracy. There are two companion volumes that are helpful. One (whose name I cannot recall) gives synopses of each book (there are about 18). This is helpful if you set the series aside for a while, as each book picks up pretty much where the last one ends. The companion volume also gives additional historical, political, and geographical background. The second volume is A Sea of Words, which is a massive glossary of the many period and nautical terms that cannot be found in ordinary dictionaries. It offers context and discussion along with definitions.

Adding to Leigh's suggestion of priceline, we -- and by "we" I mean mostly my husband, as I've been to NYC once in the last 20 years! -- have had good luck with Hotwire (www.hotwire.com). For example, a room at the Waldorf-Astoria for $140 or so. You do have to sacrifice some control, as you do not learn the exact name or location until after you make the reservation. You can specify general location (Midtown Central or Upper East Side, say), and you learn ahead of time the property's rating in number of stars. With a little practice and/or research on the side, you can even make a pretty good guess about which hotel is which before you commit.

What a lovely description, Victoria! Can we find a way to sneak it over to the dancers' board? I would so love for the dancers and their parents to read your high opinion of someone who knew she wasn't destined for a pro career, but still trained at (and to) the highest level she could.

My apologies to all who tried to read the mess I posted late last night. Too many attempts to cut and paste, no attempts to read the final copy. It now reads more coherently, I hope.

I'm no expert, but even in European fencing isn't the basic stance something close to second position? Just with a sideways orientation, to protect the body? Or, possibly more like an open third position?

It’s been over a week now since we saw this performance, so my review will be a bit fuzzy. But I didn’t want to let time get away from me entirely without mentioning it. The program was originally to be called "Founder’s Favorites" or something like that. It was changed to "The Company: Favorites" sometime after the release this winter of the film "The Company", which featured the Joffrey. It’s not clear to me if the program refers to the film, or the company itself. At any rate, only three of the six pieces appeared in the film. I thought it either pretentious or perspicacious to include a world premiere (RUTH: Ricordi per Due) on a program designated as favorites. Who’s to say so quickly? First up was Tensile Involvement – the piece with the giant rubber bands that opens the movie. I couldn’t help feeling that it was terrific as performance, not so interesting as dance. The shapes and movements of the bands are captivating, but the dancer’s movements get lost against that vibrating, busy background. Especially from farther back, where the shapes are large and the bodies tiny. The second piece from the movie was White Widow – the trapeze dance. Here, as in the movie, it was danced by Emily Patterson. And it was even more beautiful. Those of you who have been reading my posts for a while know that I struggle with analyzing what I see, wanting always to know why I liked it or what the choreographer was trying to convey. I’m happy and proud to announce that I left all that behind for a few delightful minutes. I simply found this dance entrancing, and I was nearly moved to tears. Why? Who knows? Who cares? Last in the evening, and third from the movie, was Creative Force. This is the dance in red that incorporates Latin dance, but there is so much more to it than the snippet shown in the movie. I loved it. I’m a sucker for symmetry and repetition, which abound in this piece. Over and over, lines of dancers follow one another down the diagonals or across the stage, repeating the same movements over and over. (Think of it as a very, very high energy Kingdom of the Shades.) Among these dancers is one giant – Fabrice Calmels, who is just huge, but so, so graceful and gorgeous. The contrast with the other dancers, particularly some of the tinier women, is so startling – and yet, ultimately, very pleasing. The music is very pulsating, very rhythmic, and again I found myself just getting lost in the combination of the music and the movement, feeling the tension build. The premiere, RUTH, shared an act with White Widow. What a totally appropriate thematic pairing! Both capture the longing for a lost love, and both incorporate the purity and angelic symbolism of flowing white gowns. RUTH opens on a man (Willy Shives) who is pining for his dead lover/wife (Maia Wilkins). She appears out of the mists, and they dance a passionate, sweet pas de deux. No one in the company could do this as well as Shives – tender, devoted -- and Wilkins – nuanced, delicate. Alas, she remains but a dream and ultimately bourrées back into the misty darkness. A powerful, lovely dance, choreographed by Gerald Arpino, that just might well become an enduring favorite. Rounding out the program were Valentine and Pas des Déesses. Valentine was not the Lubovitch piece that forms a focus of the film (that was My Funny Valentine), but a playful boxing match and romp between two ambivalent lovers (Calmels and Julianne Kepley – the dancer who replaces Suzanne Lopez when her tendon snaps in the film). Somewhat oddly – but not ineffectively -- the accompanying solo contrabassist ends up on the floor in the same compromising position with his instrument that the two dancers assume together. I felt bad about not liking Pas des Déesses more. It was the only classical piece on the program, with pointe shoes and tutus and purely classical moves – real ballet, you know? Yet, it didn’t work for me. Perhaps it was the slowness of it, with dancers floating in and out in between the real action. It was inspired by a Romantic lithograph of four great 19th century dancers: Lucile Grahn (Maia Wilkins), Fanny Cerrito (Jennifer Goodman), Marie Taglioni (Suzanne Lopez), and Arthur St. Leon (Michael Levine). I enjoyed the playful, energetic Goodman/Cerrito the most.

As for Neve Campbell being offered a spot, this is the story I was told by someone close enough to the situation to know the truth: After the filming was finished, a remark was made that "she's been training with us so long, she feels like a member of the company. Let's offer her a spot with us until the end of the season." I don't recall from the recounting if the offer was actually made. In any case, it was not a full-time, take-the-position-away-from-somebody-else kind of deal.

Interesting! It seems pretty consistent -- the two venues where they will be performing here have them listed simply as "The Joffrey Ballet". Any idea why this is? Did some legal statute of limitations run out?

How about broadening the search to (male) celebrities who have taken ballet -- I assume it is the males in whom you are interested? Not that I can help with any names. But athletes aren't the only people that boys admire. Can you nose around the population you'll be teaching and find out who their other role models and idols are? Sometimes one good, surprising example is more powerful than a big list.

And mine! :party: :hyper:

But doesn't this question strike at the heart of communication? No matter what the (dancer, choreographer, composer, etc...) intended to convey, if the audience doesn't perceive it, it didn't exist.

I've been to the Harris Center twice now in the last few weeks, so I'm weighing in with an opinion. The first time was to see Hubbard Street, the second for River North. I'm glad that we have a theater dedicated mostly to dance, and showcasing many different forms (Muntu Dance Theater is also on the spring bill). The front part of the orchestra is pretty normally raked. Beginning with Row S, the rake steepens into something more like stadium seating. Personally, I don't mind trading the downward look for being a little closer to the stage. We were in row V, and something in the double alphabet towards the back, and for these two performances I had no quibbles. In the back there are some narrow columns that did not block our sightline, but might have if we were further back or a little more towards the center. Both performances had recorded music, and I thought the sound system worked well. Acoustics appear to be pretty decent, in the sense that when there was no music one could clearly hear the sounds the dancers make. At one point during the intermission we heard an intermittent thump; I thought it might be the doors, my husband thought it was the HVAC system. I didn't notice it during the performance, though. As others have noted, this theater is at its best when the lights are down and the performance is in full swing. It is decidedly sterile and workaday in the lobby areas. Not being up on modern design, I can't tell if it is somebody's idea of industrial chic, or simply cheap. The atmosphere does ruin the experience a bit for me, especially compared to the period opulence of the city's other nearby theaters: the Oriental, the Palace, and the Auditorium, for example. I do give the theater high marks for having 42 stalls in the women's bathroom.

Check to make sure they spelled your name correctly in the donor's list. See who else you know on the list.

Alexandra, I like your idealism, but my question is: how do we get to that point? This discussion reminds me a lot of discussions that took place in the 70's and 80's about women and science. The old guard's argument was, "Good science is good science. It doesn't matter who does it. Science is a process, and if done honestly and properly it will always result in the same answer." I think the jury may actually still be out on that assertion, but we have discovered, at the very least, that women sometimes ask different questions than men do. Just as one example, the primate behavior literature used to be focused almost entirely on dominance interactions among males. Now, thanks to the work of people like Jeanne Altmann, we know that, for example, baboon troops are matrilineal: rank and social status are highly codified and accrue entirely according to the rank of one's mother. Before Jeanne thought to look at the females, the male scientists just assumed that the males were battling it out. Happily, results such as these are now part of the standard primate literature, and are absorbed by all students, male and female. I guess what I'm thinking is that to be inclusive, you have to have something to include. And, at least initially, you probably have to go through a stage of people championing "their" art. That at least puts it in front of other people. I guarantee you, all those white kids are not going to learn to appreciate African art, or Middle Eastern Art, or any other kind of art until someone builds that wing and takes them there on field trips. The dangerous (or unfortunate) thing, as you well know, is continuing segregation even when the resources are there -- if the African-American kids only get taken to the African art wing, and the Hispanic kids to the South and Central American art wing, and the white kids to the European art wing. The deeper question I think we need to ask is why that tends to happen: is it just tokenism, or is there really something hidden deep within the culture that makes art "speak" differently to disparate groups? I'm betting, in the end, that we can't reach the ideal of which you speak -- that people will always have preferences for "their" art that derives from their culture. BUT -- I would like to reach the point where people know and understand their predjudices, and are eager to keep sampling the alternatives in order to educate themselves.

There's also the issue of who knows who. One gets invited onto boards because of past involvement, contributions, etc. And one gets asked to make those contributions largely by a friend or business acquaintance who is already on the board. As for Alexandra's idea, as quoted by kfw: I agree that quotas serve little purpose. But I do think it's fair, even necessary, to have diverse voices championing Art that has gone unnoticed before. When a member of the board funds the new wing of African art, that's not a special interest any more than it is when another member funds the new French Impressionist wing. What is unfortunate is when the art in either wing does not meet some criterion of quality.

Thank you, rg, for reminding me of this. I saw the film as a very young teen; I'm chagrined to say that I thought it superbly boring. I would love to give it a second chance.

I didn't think Part was scheduled to dance -- at least, she's not in the list in the first post of this thread. However, I do think that one performance had not yet been scheduled, so maybe she was assigned to that?

2003 -- the plot spans the time from about 1968 to 2007. One of the bonuses for me is that it takes place in Chicago -- Henry is a librarian at the Newberry Library.

Nice review, coffee! We saw it Thursday night (Murphy/Stiefel). I, too, looked for sloppiness in the corps, but did not find it -- at least, nothing that overwhelming. Murphy was charming; for once, I saw the difference between Odette's and Odile's dancing. I especially liked the Act I (II? does one count the prologue?) pas de trois, with Michelle Wiles, David Hallberg, and Stella Abrera. Wiles and Hallberg stood out; I really would have liked to see them in the lead roles. What did you think of the orchestra? Did you find the tempo as breakneck as I did?

Has anybody else read this? The story concerns the relationship between Henry -- the time traveler -- and Clare, his wife. Henry's time travel is almost completely confined to his lifetime. He mostly visits his own past, or things in the past connected with his own life (such as Clare: we learn in the opening chapter that Henry first meets Clare when he is 28, but Clare has known Henry -- an older Henry -- since she was 6). Each chapter/vignette spells out for us the day and year, and tells us how old Henry and/or Clare is. The book is written alternately from his perspective and from hers. It is a very sweet love story, but more. It is the story of two people who have more than the usual glimpse into how their lives together unfold, yet remain totally unable to control the course of events. Henry's time travel creates an unusual depth to his character, owing to his need to develop such survival skills as lying, speed, lock-picking, and stealing (he has no control over when and where he time travels, and he cannot carry anything with him, so he always arrives naked and without money). Yet, he is fundamentally a very good man. Clare has to learn to deal with the uncertainty of Henry's travel: when will he disappear? How long will he be gone? Will he come back uninjured? Can she depend on him to stay in the present for important events? Throughout, both have to deal with those usual psychological pressures and crises that we all face: marriage, family (past, present, and future), jobs, death. This is not a book for those who require a straightforward story line. It skips back and forth quite a bit: from the present to the past, from Henry to Clare. It's sometimes a challenge to keep straight who knows what at this particular moment, and how that has shaped them. But that contributes to the richness; the reader is allowed a small glimpse of the confusion that governs Henry and Clare's life. The time traveling aspect is handled brilliantly. The author set her own rules and adhered to them, and after a while it all seems relatively normal. The ending had me in tears.