One of my New Year's resolutions was to blog more about my encounters with the arts. I did a fairly comprehensive roundup of my arts adventures last year for my Christmas newsletter, but wanted to do better on a more ongoing basis by going back to that "theater diary" assignment from the Georgetown U. class many many years ago....
Well, you know how New Year's resolutions go. (I've already missed recapping New Year's Eve "Young Frankenstein" at the Kennedy Center and the Elliott Yamin concert at the Birchmere.)
This week was especially interesting, arts-wise. First (Monday) was the Ford's Theatre benefit dinner with two guest speakers talking about the new production of "The Rivalry," a dramatization of the Lincoln/Douglas debates.
Wednesday was American Ballet Theatre's second night of a short run at the Kennedy Center, which meant mixed rep and not as many principals (reserved, evidently, for opening night Tuesday and for the full-scale ballet, "Romeo and Juliet," on the weekend). Why did I pick the "B" production and "B" cast? Daniil Simkin, whom I saw perform as a guest with ABT last year. Not just adorable and hard working, he's got a grand jete so explosive that you'd believe a new universe is being created.
And any ballet is just good beauty therapy, from Ashton's twirling candies at a birthday party, to the magical ensemble in the mysterious and dangerous forest (with piano accompaniment), to Tharp's calculus of shapes and shifting partnerships. It's all good.
Then tonight (Thursday) was my subscription play at the Round House Theatre, the second preview performance of "Permanent Collection," and it's here where I start to collect my thoughts.
The play was about art, heritage, vision, inspiration, and racism. Not necessarily in that order. Really it was about empathy, or lack thereof. Each of the two protagonists (one black, one white) asks the audience to see things from his point of view. They do not ask each other this, but rather demand, defend, and deny each other. In the end, their accusations of each other's racism are aired by the reporter seeking balance, and in the court of public opinion, both are brought down.
What struck me was the lack of empathy, the unwillingness to change or to seek compromise. As one of the female characters pointed out, it became a pissing match.
The issue of racism is tough in a suburban theater; I was listening to the audience comments at intermission, and most of the "ladies who lunch" seemed to think the black guy was overreacting. Well, I think they both were.
One thing really hit home for me at the end of Act One: that the white guy had to admit he'd never been downtown to the Museum of African Art. The point in the play was that he didn't feel he needed to understand black art because it wasn't as good as white art. Confession: I've never been there either. It's definitely on the list now.
Prejudice is a tough thing. And you wouldn't know it to look at me, but I deal with the kinds of things the black character was talking about--the sense of always being looked at as inferior. This is a really REALLY feeble comparison, but I've heard one too many dumb blonde jokes to think they're anything but old-fashioned prejudice.
Case in point: Let's go back to Monday night at the Ford's dinner. Guest speakers were a best-selling author and Civil War historian, Jay Winik, and the director of the production of "The Rivalry," Mark Ramont. It was a wonderful opportunity to talk to some interesting people.
Mark was charming over hors d'oeuvres as he described the structure of the three-person play and how he staged it, with the wife of Stephen Douglas as sort of a narrator/go-between between Lincoln and Douglas. I got very excited about that because it reminded me instantly of the structure for Michael Frayn's play of a couple of years ago, "Copenhagen," about Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg. So I enthusiastically dropped that comment into the conversation.
Mark did a double take. Literally. He hemmed-hawed a nanosecond, and then said something like, yes, well, except "The Rivalry" won't be quite as "heady" as that.
You know what? That's not exactly the first time a man has done a double-take when I, a tall blonde, demonstrated my mastery of linear thought in the form of a complete sentence or a pertinent reference in conversation. Like, really, you know?
So it should not have surprised me that dry, droll Dr. Winik pretty much laughed at me throughout dinner. Maybe it was because I insulted the intelligence of our most recent former president by saying (or starting to say) that I wouldn't vote for anyone I didn't think was smarter than I am. I'll admit to not being very diplomatic. Oops. But I was making references to books and authors that supported whatever the hell we were talking about, and he (in a very professorial demeanor) challenged me at nearly every turn.
Finally, I was in the middle of making a point about the importance of story telling and started to say "that's what I love about Tolstoy..." when Jay turned to his neighbor and sarcastically remarked, "Did you think you'd be sitting at a dinner where somebody says 'And that's what I love about Tolstoy'?" And to twist the knife, to me: "You'll have to find someone with an IQ of 200 to vote for."
I may not be the brightest penny in the dish, but I know when I'm being laughed at.
But here's where I go back to one New Year's resolution I made a few years ago that I still actually keep fairly well: Laugh.
Someone drops the door in my face? Laugh at that person's clueless rudeness. Insulted? Laugh at the inferiority of manners and self-image. Well, just laugh, because it feels better than being mad.
I don't think that philosophy could have saved the two characters in "Permanent Collection," but it couldn't have hurt.
Like my "beauty therapy" at the ballet, the response of both men to the artists who touched them could have been a place to find common ground. One feels about the Cezannes the way the other feels about the African masks. Start with the beauty and the inspiration, and share that.
Love, hosaa
thinking, feeling, laughing (and way too tired to do links. Google is your friend.)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Private Lives, redux
Sigh.
Apparently someone wants me to know grizzly "insider" details about one of my heroes. There's a reason they call Private Lives "private," people.
Now, leave Tiger Woods alone!!
love, hosaa
rejecting gossip
Apparently someone wants me to know grizzly "insider" details about one of my heroes. There's a reason they call Private Lives "private," people.
Now, leave Tiger Woods alone!!
love, hosaa
rejecting gossip
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Blundering Gracefully
Dear me, I knew this would happen.
Facebook confuses me with its publicly private world. In the process of trying to follow some of my favorite artists and arts organizations, I accidentally (okay, maybe not very accidentally) clicked on a friend request for a certain dancer.
A week or two passed with the "request pending" still sitting in my Friends list. I thought about deleting it, but would that have seemed rude?
(For the record, there is a friend request of my own sitting in my notifications: the high-school boyfriend who dumped me before prom and took my best friend and who is now a married minister, and a Republican to boot. He only needed three strikes.)
Last night when I got home from the Kaleidoscope skating-for-survivors event with Scott Hamilton, I checked my e-mail and found that I'd had a message from the dancer whose friendship I had blundered into requesting.
It was a very sweet greeting that invited me to join his fan group, which I did right away. This dancer is most certainly a master of the art of the graceful gesture. But I won't get to tell him how much he reminds me of Rudolf Nureyev.
love and big smiles, hosaa
blundering as gracefully as possible
Here's Scottie! [click to enlarge]
Facebook confuses me with its publicly private world. In the process of trying to follow some of my favorite artists and arts organizations, I accidentally (okay, maybe not very accidentally) clicked on a friend request for a certain dancer.
A week or two passed with the "request pending" still sitting in my Friends list. I thought about deleting it, but would that have seemed rude?
(For the record, there is a friend request of my own sitting in my notifications: the high-school boyfriend who dumped me before prom and took my best friend and who is now a married minister, and a Republican to boot. He only needed three strikes.)
Last night when I got home from the Kaleidoscope skating-for-survivors event with Scott Hamilton, I checked my e-mail and found that I'd had a message from the dancer whose friendship I had blundered into requesting.
It was a very sweet greeting that invited me to join his fan group, which I did right away. This dancer is most certainly a master of the art of the graceful gesture. But I won't get to tell him how much he reminds me of Rudolf Nureyev.
love and big smiles, hosaa
blundering as gracefully as possible
Here's Scottie! [click to enlarge]
Thursday, November 12, 2009
That Was It
I know I'm late to this, but I finally went to see "This Is It" last night. Just a few thoughts from a non-fan: I loved it.
The movie's tagline is "Discover the Man You Never Knew," and for someone like me, that was truly the case. I pretty much grew up with MJ music, but from the Jackson Five. I remember their cute cartoon show. By the time MJ went off on his own and reached superstardom with Thriller, I'd moved way far away from pop. (I didn't come back to pop at all until 2003, when a certain redhead said he could've been in the top one or two at least on American Idol). All I knew about MJ, really, came from the tabloids, and for me the "freak" factor (plastic surgeries, dangling babies over balconies) was a big turnoff.
With MJ's death, that "freak factor" evaporated, and the voices of those who truly knew the man and were inspired by his talent dominated the public consciousness. The enthusiasm of at least one friend alone was enough to make me rethink MJ. And the movie did the rest.
Of course with all I'd seen happening to Clay Aiken and the gossip-lies-hatred thrown at him over the last six years, I should already have known not to believe what I read/hear. I try to accept reality as it's presented to me, but I still need to ask questions.
As for This Is It - I am sure I enjoyed this "making of" view more than I would have the actual concert, simply because the big productions leave me too overwhelmed (that's the reason I HATE Phantom of the Opera, for instance). What I got to see was the work behind the art, the meticulous attention to detail, the deeply respectful collaborations, the humility and appreciation for other people's ideas. His vision was so absolute and powerful, he made others see it too.
In the end, MJ was an artist who had become the art.
The film itself, I found just enthralling, simply as a great musical. I would rate it with A Hard Day's Night (which, though scripted, was as close to a documentary of the Beatles' experience with music, fans, and production as you can get). I especially appreciated the full-body-view photography of the dance sequences - something I always look for in musicals. The editing was seamless and fluid. Just a wonderful, wonderfully made work. It's amazing they put it together so quickly.
One episode in the rehearsal process made me smile - when MJ and his backup singer were carrying on after "The Way You Make Me Feel," their playful trilling (musical one-up-manship) reminded me of Clay and his backup singer Quiana Parler during the 2007 summer tour, riffing after "I Want to Know What Love Is."
What a tragedy that, though Michael had complete control of his music and the concert experience, he did not have the same control over his own life. I wish this kind of film had been made years ago - maybe it would have countered a lot of that "freak factor" crap he had to deal with.
Love, hosaa
envisioning the man in his mirror
ETA, I have no idea when MJ started using one particular dance move, but its prevalence in this movie called to my mind the 1980 film Fame and the "Red Light" number by street dancer Gene Anthony Ray:
The movie's tagline is "Discover the Man You Never Knew," and for someone like me, that was truly the case. I pretty much grew up with MJ music, but from the Jackson Five. I remember their cute cartoon show. By the time MJ went off on his own and reached superstardom with Thriller, I'd moved way far away from pop. (I didn't come back to pop at all until 2003, when a certain redhead said he could've been in the top one or two at least on American Idol). All I knew about MJ, really, came from the tabloids, and for me the "freak" factor (plastic surgeries, dangling babies over balconies) was a big turnoff.
With MJ's death, that "freak factor" evaporated, and the voices of those who truly knew the man and were inspired by his talent dominated the public consciousness. The enthusiasm of at least one friend alone was enough to make me rethink MJ. And the movie did the rest.
Of course with all I'd seen happening to Clay Aiken and the gossip-lies-hatred thrown at him over the last six years, I should already have known not to believe what I read/hear. I try to accept reality as it's presented to me, but I still need to ask questions.
As for This Is It - I am sure I enjoyed this "making of" view more than I would have the actual concert, simply because the big productions leave me too overwhelmed (that's the reason I HATE Phantom of the Opera, for instance). What I got to see was the work behind the art, the meticulous attention to detail, the deeply respectful collaborations, the humility and appreciation for other people's ideas. His vision was so absolute and powerful, he made others see it too.
In the end, MJ was an artist who had become the art.
The film itself, I found just enthralling, simply as a great musical. I would rate it with A Hard Day's Night (which, though scripted, was as close to a documentary of the Beatles' experience with music, fans, and production as you can get). I especially appreciated the full-body-view photography of the dance sequences - something I always look for in musicals. The editing was seamless and fluid. Just a wonderful, wonderfully made work. It's amazing they put it together so quickly.
One episode in the rehearsal process made me smile - when MJ and his backup singer were carrying on after "The Way You Make Me Feel," their playful trilling (musical one-up-manship) reminded me of Clay and his backup singer Quiana Parler during the 2007 summer tour, riffing after "I Want to Know What Love Is."
What a tragedy that, though Michael had complete control of his music and the concert experience, he did not have the same control over his own life. I wish this kind of film had been made years ago - maybe it would have countered a lot of that "freak factor" crap he had to deal with.
Love, hosaa
envisioning the man in his mirror
ETA, I have no idea when MJ started using one particular dance move, but its prevalence in this movie called to my mind the 1980 film Fame and the "Red Light" number by street dancer Gene Anthony Ray:
Monday, November 9, 2009
Finding Lost Futures
Dang, I've been at the magazine so long that I not only can't find an article from way back when, I can't even remember the decade it was from.
For the record, I was looking for a story (with illustrations) on converting the backyards of all the houses in a typical suburban block into a common area for gardening. A great local-farming solution. But what issue was it in? I couldn't remember the author or the title, and I'm pretty sure we ran the story long before ProQuest began digitizing our stuff.
Anyway, short story long, while looking for that article, I found these cartoons from a 1987 article, "How to Think Like an Innovator" by Denis Waitley and Robert Tucker. The art work was by an illustrator named Spyder Webb, but it was based on sketches I provided him.
I guess I thought that was really hysterical at the time... setting up the expectation that the little innovator was going to invent the wheeled suitcase but then actually coming up with a game show. HAHA! The lesson is (I suppose) that the process of innovative thinking can lead you in a variety of directions.
And even if I didn't find the future I was looking for, it's all good.
Love, hosaa,
futuring, personally and otherwise
For the record, I was looking for a story (with illustrations) on converting the backyards of all the houses in a typical suburban block into a common area for gardening. A great local-farming solution. But what issue was it in? I couldn't remember the author or the title, and I'm pretty sure we ran the story long before ProQuest began digitizing our stuff.
Anyway, short story long, while looking for that article, I found these cartoons from a 1987 article, "How to Think Like an Innovator" by Denis Waitley and Robert Tucker. The art work was by an illustrator named Spyder Webb, but it was based on sketches I provided him.
I guess I thought that was really hysterical at the time... setting up the expectation that the little innovator was going to invent the wheeled suitcase but then actually coming up with a game show. HAHA! The lesson is (I suppose) that the process of innovative thinking can lead you in a variety of directions.
And even if I didn't find the future I was looking for, it's all good.
Love, hosaa,
futuring, personally and otherwise
Saturday, October 31, 2009
An Enemy of the People
I'm proud to post the college production debut of my niece in Ibsen's "An Enemy of the People," October 23-25, 2009.
A star is born! She may turn out to be a business major after all, but building a portfolio of stage presence and poise can only be a good thing.
Love, hosaa
If all the world's a stage, somebody's got to be the audience!
A star is born! She may turn out to be a business major after all, but building a portfolio of stage presence and poise can only be a good thing.
Love, hosaa
If all the world's a stage, somebody's got to be the audience!
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Beautiful Star's Papa
RIP Joseph Alvis Aiken, beloved grandfather ("Papa") of Clay Aiken.
This is the montage I made after the 2005 Christmas tour, when Clay sang a bluegrass Christmas carol especially for Papa. Clay wrote in his book "Learning To Sing" that one of his favorite childhood memories was listening to the Grand Ole Opry on the radio.
"Papa's Beautiful Star" includes both the passage from the book and Clay's special Christmas gift to Papa.
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