Hip-Hop + Baseball ÷ Fat Guys = Awesome

As far as I can tell, Kanye has blogged about this just yet, so here goes:

Something very exciting is happening in the world of dance. No, it's not Big Boi's collaboration with the Atlanta Ballet (though it definitely deserves an honorable mention). The Florida Marlins, whose stripped-down lineup (besides Hanley Ramirez) surely needs some cheerleading this year, have assembled a troupe of all-male, all-plus-sized dancers to perform at weekend home games. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Florida Marlins Manatees. Count me excited.

My official review: it's good for baseball, and good for dance. The Marlins have been struggling with attendance since they gave up Beckett (who am I kidding, since forever), and they had to do something soon. Truly, they're not half bad for a bunch of guys who have never danced before. But I don't think the choreographed routines show off their skills enough; they're actually at their best when they freestyle. Check it out:



My only complaint: where are the female plus-sized dancers? From the words of John McGraw and the Sistahs: "One percent of ballplayers are leaders of men. The other 99 percent are followers of women."

Dim Sum

This week's roundup of art news I happen to find interesting:

-The Boston Ballet has announced that it is cutting nearly 20% of the dancers in its company. Times are tough, sure. I get that. But, boo. Just, boo.
-Isaac thinks redneck sports in Maine are kind of like Dadaism. I think he has a point, but a true redneck would probably call him an "overeducated owta-stateah" and send him down the river in one of those giant pumpkins.
-As promised, here are some images from Mikhail Baryshnikov's current photography show, Merce My Way, at 401 Projects. They're not as groundbreaking as everyone's making them out to be (they show movement, while dance photography has traditionally stuck to showing form), but I admit they've grown on me. Even though I think they ought to have been done in film, not digital. What can I say; film is just better.
-Joss Whedon has co-written, and is currently filming, a limited Internet musical series called "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog," starring a couple of my favorite actors, presumably in tights. Joss is clearly very good at writing musicals, and I can't wait for his next go. And look, Mom! No producers!
-Zach took me to Northeastern University last weekend to see Anthony Rapp sing and speak, and it was my favorite thing I did during Spring Break. Rapp sang some some of his own songs, some songs from Rent, some songs from other musicals, and some unexpected covers, of which my favorite by far was Courtney Love's "Miss World." And check out this bit of exciting news. Two original cast members? Hells yeah.

Mikhail Baryshnikov is taking over the art world...but being nice about it.

This recent article in the New York Observer officially begs the question: Great Muppity Odin, is there any kind of art Mikhail Baryshnikov doesn't do? Dancing, of course...then acting, and now guitar and photography? Apparently once he masters one art form, he simply moves on to another, all the while acting pleasantly self-deprecating about his abilities. As if he could fool us into thinking he's somehow no good.

His photography show, which features images of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company, opens March 15th at 401 Projects in the West Village. I'll try to get some images up when they become available.

Amazing. Simply amazing.

I'm about to tip the topical balance of this blog decidedly in favor of the dance genre. But I'm ahead of my game for once, so I wanted to post that if you live in the Boston area, you ought to consider seeing Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater this weekend at the Wang. Tickets are a little bit pricey, but students can score $20 rush tickets (cash only) at the box office an hour and a half before each show. In my opinion, there is no better way to celebrate Black History Month.

Firebird, the opening act, was weird, as Maurice Béjart's choreography often is. Honestly, I wasn't a fan. The dancers, as always, were spectacular; they did what they could with what they were given. The corps de ballet costumes amount to lumpy grey pajamas. Sometimes they weren't exactly in unison, but they can't be blamed for that either. The New York Times review of the Ailey company's performance referenced an old quote by critic Clement Crisp: "Béjart and Stravinsky is one of those fabled partnerships, like Romeo and Goneril, or bacon and strawberries." (Yeah, I've been waiting to bust that one out for a while.) Crisp is right. Béjart, rest his soul, got a lot of things right with this ballet, especially the staccato, bird-like movements of the title character. But he was not a master of musicality.

The second act, which included Camille A. Brown's new work Groove to Nobody's Business, made me smile. It's a little vignette about people on public transit, set to music by Ray Charles and Brandon McCune. Here I must mention the incomparable Renée Robinson, whose staggering old-lady character holding her aching back was both a spot-on impression and a hilarious reference to her own 26-year career with the Ailey company. And in Robert Battle's Unfold, Linda Celeste Sims--whose back must surely be made out of rubber--was lithe and elegant without being delicate or pretentious.

Which brings me to Revelations. Whenever I see it listed on the program, I sigh a little bit. Going in, I always feel like it's overdone. I've seen it before, and I'd rather see something new for a change. Then when it starts, and I see the emotion that the dancers pour into every little movement, I change my mind. It has aged a bit since its premiere in 1960, but it never gets old. It's still touching, still relevant, and still awe-inspiring. And I know this is maybe a little melodramatic, but it makes me proud to be an American. Proud that my country has produced a work of art this unique, time-tested, and inspirational. Proud that Ailey was able express our nation's history of racial and cultural oppression in a way that can make us smile without trivializing the experience of racism. And whenever I see it, I know I'm watching a living part of American history. This is the one piece of American dance that everyone should see at least once in their lives.

I have a crush on Mikhail Baryshnikov, and I don't care who knows it

Mikhail Baryshnikov is an f'ing legend. There have been many dance superstars--your Gelseys, Rudy's, and Dame Margot's. My generation knows Suzanne Farrell because she was on Sesame Street. But Baryshnikov is that rare dancer who is also a household name. As a teenager, I used to rewind his Don Q and Le Corsaire scenes from The Turning Point over and over and over. And, okay, I'll admit it. Also the love scene with Leslie Browne.

He's still dancing at the ripe old age of 59. He'll be 60 next month. But since his body won't do everything it used to, he's branching out into acting. I am a huge fan of this career choice. His short stint on Sex and the City was, dare I say it, hot. And now, he's starring in a compilation of Samuel Beckett shorts with the New York Theater Workshop. He's getting pretty good reviews. What's interesting to note is that in three of the four short plays, Baryshnikov doesn't say a word. It's all physical acting, set to original music by Philip Glass.

Not having seen the performances, I really can't say much by way of review, but I do have two problems with this general concept. Number one, Baryshnikov is the most accomplished person in the world at movement. Sure, he's going to be modest and say it's challenging to move and act in different ways on a different type of stage; but let's be honest, this has got to be child's play for him. Physical acting has been his life since the mid-1950s. Give the guy a challenge! Second, how can one put him on a stage and not take advantage of that sexy Russian accent? It's a shame, I say. A damn shame.

Mom! She's doing it again!

Back home for the holidays and suddenly faced with nothing to do, I'm blogging with renewed vigor. I've been stockpiling ideas for so long, I'll never get to most of them. But for once, I've decided to write about something timely: The Nutcracker.

Any dancer, current or former, will tell you that their own hometown Nutcracker is the best. I am no exception. I danced in the Robinson Ballet's annual Nutcracker for eight years and worked backstage for nearly as long. At various points, I have danced the parts of Clara, the maid, a harlequin doll, a soldier, a snowflake, a China doll, and many, many other roles. When I hear the music, I can feel the steps. Muscle memory is a grand thing. I've seen a lot of other Nutcracker performances before--some world-caliber; some less so--but none will ever measure up to the "real" one, the one that I first saw at the age of six when my dance teacher, Miss Maureen, was the Sugar Plum Fairy and I was wide-eyed with wonder.

Jennifer Fischer, a dance scholar and a former snowflake herself, examines this phenomenon in Nutcracker Nation: How an Old World Ballet Became a Christmas Tradition in the New World. The first Nutcracker in nineteenth century St. Petersburg was a spectacular failure. When it came to the United States, its popularity exploded. The New York City Ballet has undisputed possession of the most popular American version, which reached its 2000th performance just this week. But there are so many others, there is no definitive. There's the Pacific Northwest Ballet version with creepy sets by Maurice Sendak (who wrote Where the Wild Things Are). There's Mark Morris's Hard Nut, which takes place in the Swinging '60s, meaning the party guests are all stoned and dressed like Cher. In my own city, there's the Boston Ballet (traditional and flashy, with shimmering set pieces that move around without the aid of techies wearing rat masks), the José Mateo version out in Waltham (less flashy, but nevertheless very well danced), and the Urban Nutcracker (a fusion of ballet, swing, hip-hop, and tap, set to Duke Ellington's Nutcracker score). My hometown version up in Maine has a cast drawn from local dance schools, costumes sewn by parents, and set pieces built by, well, people like me.

Unable to head home this year for my own Nutcracker, I splurged for a $30 upper balcony ticket for the Boston Ballet. I was duly impressed with the pyrotechnics and the flying hot air balloon. And those techies sure know how to make good use of a scrim. The costumes glittered accordingly. But the subject I'd like to write about here is the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Boston Ballet's grand pas de deux has almost exactly the same choreography as the one I learned in partnering class in high school (likely derived from the traditional Petipa and Ivanov 1892 version from Russia). It felt like home. But I've never seen it danced with that level of technical expertise. I attended a Saturday matinée, which always means seeing the 3rd or 4th cast, so I can't imagine what I might have seen had it been a first cast. One expects nothing less than perfection from the Boston Ballet, and that afternoon's Sugar Plum Fairy, Misa Kuranaga, didn't disappoint. Having attempted these steps myself, I appreciate the skill involved in the pas de deux more than most.

But you know what, technique is only so much. Don't get me wrong; anyone worthy of wearing the pink tutu on one of those big stages works harder than anyone and has definitely earned their stripes. But the best lead performances I've ever seen have been by teenagers who have maybe half the skills of Ms. Kuranaga and and have no other option than to pour their hearts and souls into the dancing. They're good dancers, and they've worked all year for this moment. They're inexperienced, scared shitless, and energetic beyond our world. They're in love with the stage, and it shows in the joy on their faces. The Boston Ballet dancers smile appropriately, but after so many Nutcrackers over so many years, it looks like they're on autopilot. They're delicate and beautiful, but they forgot their passion back in the rehearsal studio. They can jump, but they don't fly.

The above photo (By Gary Soucy, lifted from his website) is from a Robinson Ballet performance at the Maine Center for the Arts a few years back. The dancer suspended mid-leap is 17 years old. Doesn't it look like she's having the absolute time of her life? So if you're thinking about going to see The Nutcracker this year or in the future, I recommend something that's not the Boston Ballet or the New York City Ballet or the like. Go to a performance where the audience members include the dancers' moms. Something genuine. Happy Holidays.

Sorry 'bout that.

Well, that was quite a long time to be away from my blog. Long enough that I almost considered leaving it alone for another year. Alas, procrastination beckons. Amusingly enough, I convinced myself re-enter the blogosphere [I hate that word] after musing about about Dunkin' Donuts Pumpkin Spice Coffee on my friend Julie's blog We Are Lumberjacks.

Here's a brief update on the things I intended to write lengthy posts about, and never got around to:

-Frank Gehry wants to sell, not donate, his archives. Whichever museum buys them will end up on my unofficial academic research no-no list. Museums shouldn't have to pay for these things, must less from egotistical architects, no matter how historically significant they think they are.

-There was an avant-garde performance in Stonington, Maine (a town you won't know about unless you're from Maine, and maybe not even in that rare case) in which some awesome dancers hung from backhoes by ropes and cables in some old granite quarries. Unfortunately, the article from the Bangor Daily News has now disappeared into the archives and is virtually inaccessible unless you wish to pay them for the privilege. My own fault for not writing about it sooner, when it was actually going on. I wish I could've seen the show, but almost nobody lives in or near Stonington. Not to deprive Stonington of cultural capital; but if someone were to stage this show in Boston or NYC, it would be an instant hit.

-Bob Neuman is having a retrospective, 1954-2007, at the Beard Gallery at Wheaton College. That's Robert S. Neuman to those of you who are Googling him right now. The retrospective is being shown through Dec. 8th. Sadly, I missed the opening on September 9th--mostly due to my own tragic lethargy, but also the fact that I knew nobody there would recognize me, despite the fact that I've worked down the street from where they lived for the past two summers and sold them expensive photographs on a regular basis. Such is life in Northeast Harbor, but I won't complain. It certainly paid the bills this year.

I recently sat down and talked with Boston-based abstract painter Bob Neuman. Don't be fooled into thinking this was intentional. He's good friends with my boss, a landscape photographer in Northeast Harbor (see June 6, 2007 post), and he was bored enough to talk to me for a while at our gallery opening back in early August. Unfortunately, I didn't get to talk to him about his art. Hopefully that will happen sometime in the future. The conversation mostly concerned his assertion that the Charles River is soon to be filled in (like the Back Bay was in the nineteenth century) and taken over by Harvard University. I don't know about that. But I do know that you should not be deceived by his plaid suit. In the art, world, this guy matters, and for a reason. I'll have to write about his art sometime.

-For their birthdays in March and April, I got my parents tickets for the sold-out live national broadcast of Prairie Home Companion at the Bangor Auditorium on May 3rd. Please don't tell them; it's a surprise. How did I score the tickets? I know people who know people. Unsurprisingly, I also bought a ticket for myself. And now I have to wait six months to finally see and hear Garrison Keillor in person. I can't stand it!

-Sabra Johnson won So You Think You Can Dance, Season 3. This was way back in mid-August. But the thing is, nobody thought she was the best dancer on the show. Everyone knew that honor belonged to Danny Tidwell, who was unmatched in technique and artistry; Sabra was simply the most likeable option for the uninformed SYTYCD audience, due to the fact that Shane Sparks sabotaged Danny from the get-go by branding him as an egotistical know-it-all. (Not accurate, people! He's just shy and modest!) But I'm proud of Danny for showing compassion and class concerning Sabra's victory; especially considering he's the second dancer in his immediate family to be judged the runner-up of the show. Here's to a successful career in whatever you choose to do next, Danny.

-I finally purchased Ani DiFranco's Knuckle Down (2005) from the new Amazon music download service. I have two things to say about this:

1. I wish I had done this sooner. This may be the best Ani album yet, and I consider myself an early-'90s Ani loyalist, so that's saying a lot. I wasn't a huge fan of Educated Guess, so I gave up on Ani for a while. I'm glad I came back. It feels like home.
2. The Amazon music download service is actually pretty awesome. Abandon iTunes; nobody needs closed proprietary formats anyway.

-The Red Sox won the World Series again. It's not art news, but it deserves a mention. Particular emphasis on the word "again." Do I smell a dynasty brewing? I may just need to follow my brother's example and get a Red Sox tattoo. Okay, now I've brought this part of the post back into the realm of art.

-S

Mr. Manners at the Ballet

Julie of We Are Lumberjacks recently sent me something awesome that turned me on to the Best of Craig's List series. Here's one I found that offers some very important etiquette tips for attending the ballet. It should serve as a cheat sheet for those of you who don't attend regularly, or who don't feel like you know how to act during a performance. I especially like the way the offending gentleman, apparently a master of irony, manages to both identify himself as a "polite person" and then scream "ya assholes!" in the same sentence. I wish I could match your awesomeness, Mr. Ballet Enthusiast Man.

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http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/326175577.html

To: Guy Who Screamed Obscenities at the Ballet the Other Night:
Date: 2007-05-07, 11:59AM PDT

It was Don Quixote, a rather fun full-length ballet, nobody dies like in the dreary Giselle or Swan Lake.

Another fantastic performance by the SF Ballet. I know you enjoyed it. Our whole section knows you enjoyed it. Every time a dancer would perform a particularly impressive jump, or a series of 3+ pirouettes, you would say, "Whoa!" or "Jaysus!"

This, I didn't mind. As a former dancer and now a season-ticket holder of our City's fine company, I get a kick out of hearing others' excitement for an art form I hold dear. Much better than the guy next to me whose head started to fall like a kid in an 8th grade math class.

So, the curtain falls. The end. Applause.

Curtain comes up and the dancers begin to take their bows. You notice a few people standing up. Was it an ovation? NO! They were LEAVING! These people could not WAIT to get to their cars (they were obviously not MUNI riders, walkers or cab-hailers like most of us in the City)! They had no time for CLAPPING! They had to get out now!

It was then you yelled, in your beautiful gray-haired old crotchety man voice, "WILL YOU PEOPLE SIT DOWN AND LET THE *POLITE* PEOPLE SHOW THEIR APPRECIATION?!," slight pause, "YA ASSHOLES!"

Now, I have seen dozens of ballets in my relatively short lifetime of 25 years. Never, not once, have I encountered a fan of ballet quite like you. At the ballgame, sure, that kind of yelling is par for the course. At the ballgame we eat peanuts and leave the shells in piles at our feet.

Sir, this was THE BALLET.

And for your outburst directed at the people who think somewhere in their tiny brains that it is even remotely acceptable to get up and leave during the curtain call, remotely acceptable to not even clap for the world class artists who just performed a most difficult and worthwhile ballet for our enjoyment (artists whose salary is about that of a standard office receptionist), remotely acceptable to WALK OUT while the house lights are up and we can all (including the dancers) see...

Kind sir, for your outburst, screaming at these "assholes", I thank you from the bottom of my art-loving heart.

I've been wanting to say that for a long time.

And WOW! They sat their asses down, didn't they?! A few were even clapping.

You are the BEST.

Cordially,
Fellow Supporter of the Fine Arts in San Francisco

Vote for Danny?

I just get the feeling that he belongs on a better stage than this. Perhaps he's trying to get more exposure for his magazine, movmnt, as a result of his minor reality show celebrity. But if this is what he wants--to win a national television dance competition--then by golly, we should give it to him.

Finale

The Dance of the Final Bow

Four of the world's best ballerinas a retiring at the end of this season. I used to idolize these women when I was a kid, and it's sort of sad (though I suppose a natural fact of a dancer's life) that they're retiring. I've seen one of them dance in person (I'm pretty sure Alessandra Ferri came to the MCA on tour sometime in the early '90s) and one on video (Kyra Nichols as the Dew Drop Fairy in the unfortunately horrendous movie version of The Nutcracker, with Macauley Culkin as the Nutcracker, barf). It's disappointing that they're done performing. I hope they find successful and fulfilling careers post-dance.

Which reminds me of another interesting dance world happening--word is, Damien Woetzel is set to retire from NYCB sometime in the near future as well, but in between seasons he's getting his Master's degree in Public Policy at Harvard and guesting at the Boston Ballet. Double props to this guy for getting and education past high school (rare in ballet dancers) and for dancing in my city.