Inspired by mmonk’s yearly tradition, I am presenting the theatrical memories version for this year:
Lovely ladies (esp. Lea)
Rush opera tix (totally worth it)
Valentine’s Day with Mark Morris
Wynton Marsalis’ Red Hot Holiday Stomp
Xanthe’s breathtaking performance
Marcelo Gomes and Paloma Herrera making pretty poses in Milledpied’s “From Here on Out”
Unwittingly, I set off a flurry of discussion (resultant comments here) on dance critic Apollinaire Scherr’s site, writing about my thoughts on ABT’s recent performances of Elo’s “C to C” and Milledpied’s “From Here on Out” (what does that title even mean? You could have titled it something like, “Gone in 60 Seconds” and it wouldn’t have made a difference.) I knew instinctually that these pieces were not great pieces, but I was absolutely flustered by the point of these pieces. Both pieces had their moments – Elo had me briefly mesmerized in places, and Milledpied’s was intricately detailed and so much so that every picture I’ve seen of this piece is breathtaking. But both pieces lost me at the overall picture. (I should note that my dissatisfactions with the piece had nothing to do with the talent seen onstage; the dancers of ABT were amazing, as always.)
Anyways, the interesting discussion on Apollinaire’s site brought up analogies to writing, where an author, as should a choreographer, should start with a thesis or an idea, with a logical flow that supports this thesis. Dance is a communication, is it not, of the choreographer’s ideas and thoughts? Clarity of meaning and point, then, should be well in order for the audience to appreciate and to understand and fully appreciate the artist’s work.
One of the foundational points of discussion is whether or not dance is really instinctual in nature. Is movement able to convey meaning, that all audiences can understand and resonate with? In an analogous way, people can argue that there are aspects of visual art, which can be just as difficult if not more so in the viewer’s quest for deciphering meaning, that are universal and understandable. And if so, then are program notes and audio tours of art museums necessary for the full enjoyment of a work of visual and theatrical art? These questions remind me of a discussion we’ve had on this site, where I asked the question if a dance in itself should be complete; should we all be provided with program notes and an audio tour of museum art works before we “get” a piece? Or should we be able to watch it and enjoy it for what it is? Elo’s “C to C” required a knowledge that the dance was about an artist (whose face was emblazoned across the backdrop) and his struggle in living with the effects of a debilitating aneurysm. I completely missed reading through the program notes before I saw the piece, thanks to the Cal vs. USC football game going on outside amidst mobs of drunk fans, which barely put us on time for the performance (we rushed down the aisles in the dark to the “overture” of Tharp’s Baker’s Dozen). I still don’t know the answer to this question, although what I am sure about is that a work of art HAS to work on a level of being enjoyed and understood as a piece in itself, without prior research and program notes. Even if it’s on a different level than having read about the creator’s motivations, a work in itself has to be complete.
Perhaps visual art has been seeping into my thoughts thanks to a recent visit to one of my favorite art museums, the SF Museum of Modern Art. The picture below is Jim Dine’s “Blue Clamp”, where in the middle of a dripping acrylic heart is a blatant vice-like C-clamp. The clamp’s obvious presence is magnified by the use of a contrasting bright blue color. See, this piece communicates and communicates well. If this piece isn’t universal, I don’t know what is – if you don’t understand this, then you probably haven’t had your heart broken.
