Missy | October 29, 2005

William Forsythe was present for today’s Artist Conversation at The Plain of Heaven Project:

Dancer Brock Labrenz, Meatpacking District

Brock dances from 12-6 on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday while this exhibit is open (Oct 14-Nov 20). He is often dancing with his eyes closed for 1-2 hour stretches of time while we, the observers, invade his space. The piece is “about” his observing and, for lack of a better way of describing it, inverting himself through the present moment. Meanwhile, his being in the space disrupts it (as evidenced by the swinging pendulums). It is not scripted; rather, the piece is created anew each time according to Forsythe’s parameters. We were told that Brock is also, believe it or not, an astrophysicist, which forms the piece based on who Brock is as a person (and it is Brock’s piece as much as it is Forsythe’s).

The Man, Bill Forsythe

Forsythe spoke of dancing with his eyes closed, of rehearsing his dancers with their eyes closed (you can–and should–always feel where you are in space, or at least, feel what your body is doing without having to see it. Yet, I challenge you to try closing your eyes and stand on one foot. Or move about your apartment/house–it takes some practice). He worked with blind people in preparation to understand how they visualize their environments (yet was astonished to learn about the blind climber who reached the top of Mt. Everest–coincidentally, I saw that same man speak at a conference a couple of weeks ago and he is an astonishing person). He spoke of the concept of being in the present moment and, as a choreographer, of not trying to achieve a particular end to the means. He also spoke of mobius strips, the blind mathematician who visualized the inversion of a sphere, of gravity, which is nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I’m not doing him justice here and I should have taken notes; instead, I was agog in the presence of a genius.

More photos.

Previous William Forsythe-related posts: 1, 2, 3, 4.

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Missy | October 21, 2005

Via Pith in the Wind, watch this movie trailer through to the end. Doesn’t smell anything like the auteur’s work, does it.

One day before I die (or rather, before he dies), I want to see him play clarinet at The Carlyle–it is apparently a regular Monday night thing. Of course, there’s a dress code and, more importantly, the cover is $85 per person.

UPDATE: A round-up/cram-in of a couple of other unrelated things:

- Innovative and exciting choreographer William Forsythe has an installation piece as part of The Plain of Heaven project, inspired by the west side High Line. Even if you don’t attend (though I encourage you to), click that first link.

- A debate on the social responsibility of business over at Reason. A must-read.

- Back when I was a young lass of a schoolgirl, monetary econ was my thing (well, that and econometrics). Then I went the route of international trade and price index number theory. Now I don’t do any of that, but it doesn’t mean that Fed watching isn’t still fun! A solid choice.

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Missy | October 21, 2005

Via Pith in the Wind, watch this movie trailer through to the end. Doesn’t smell anything like the auteur’s work, does it.

One day before I die (or rather, before he dies), I want to see him play clarinet at The Carlyle–it is apparently a regular Monday night thing. Of course, there’s a dress code and, more importantly, the cover is $85 per person.

UPDATE: A round-up/cram-in of a couple of other unrelated things:

- Innovative and exciting choreographer William Forsythe has an installation piece as part of The Plain of Heaven project, inspired by the west side High Line. Even if you don’t attend (though I encourage you to), click that first link.

- A debate on the social responsibility of business over at Reason. A must-read.

- Back when I was a young lass of a schoolgirl, monetary econ was my thing (well, that and econometrics). Then I went the route of international trade and price index number theory. Now I don’t do any of that, but it doesn’t mean that Fed watching isn’t still fun! A solid choice.

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Missy | October 20, 2005

Hell, I don’t know what to post. Here’s a self-portrait; obviously, I didn’t bother to disable the flash. (Can you tell by my disappearing eyelashes that I’m actually a natural blonde?)

Wishing my hair would just grow already.

UPDATE: Okay, here’s something: an interview with Jonathan Lethem at The Morning News.

(I ordinarily loathe writers writing themselves into a piece/interview–obviously, a conversation is a conversation and any prior personal rapport between the writer & subject adds flavor, but we care about the interviewee, generally not so much the writer, particularly any ego-centrism of the writer–unless, of course, the writer is an interesting and, likely, prominent writer on his own right, like when Lethem interviewed Noah Baumbach. Anyway, here, there’s no such annoyance, but the writer’s dog plays a minor role. That’s okay.)

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Missy | October 16, 2005

Off to Las Vegas tomorrow morning for a few days. (It’s for work, not for a quick marriage or, alternatively, divorce.) The good thing is once back, I’m taking Thursday and Friday off from work.

Be good.

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Missy | October 16, 2005

Why is it that when I am in the presence of artistic greatness, I often later have dreams where I’m making out with said artist. I like brilliance, I like kissing, I like brilliant kissing. But, does this sort of thing really call for first base? Last night’s installment: John Vanderslice. (Past examples include Martsch, Doug; Soderbergh, Steven; and Cobain, Kurt.)

Anyway. I caught JV’s show at the intimate Southpaw last night and it was just thrilling. I started listening to him only about a year & a half ago (and still have yet to check out his MK Ultra stuff) and I find his music intricate as well as pretty. The guy is a master lyrical storyteller with the musicality of, say, Radiohead and a producer extraordinaire. He has an ear, and I don’t just mean that in the sense of never wavering off pitch (although that is enviably true), but I love the way he explores sounds–”singer-songwriter” is a limiting label in describing him. He’s an intelligent writer, certainly, but there are many musical layers (distorted samples, Moog Source, etc). Terrific stuff. And nothing seems off-limits; listen to the intro of “Plymouth Rock” and you might think you’ve been transported back to 80’s light rock, for example. He references (well, borrows the phrase) Dance Dance Revolution in “Exodus Damage”, a song about 9/11. There’s some falsetto singing, some hand claps. He asks everyone to stick around afterwards and dance, starting off with some R. Kelly.

He also keeps online recording and tour journals (I think they call that blogging), is into photography, appreciates and welcomes baked goods from fans, loves rap/hip-hop and cinema, and has a near-constant, goofy smile that lights up the place.

He’s made ample mp3s available on his site. “They Won’t Let Me Run” (mp3 file) is just one personal favorite.

(I didn’t take my camera; I’m going to buy a new lens, probably this one, as recommended to me by my dance teacher, who has the same camera and knows a few things about photography and who told me that lens is sort of an inexpensive best-kept secret and good for low-light situations.)

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Missy | October 15, 2005

Brownstones, Brooklyn Heights

The sun has finally returned and everyone in New York is smiling. It’s beautiful. (More photos here.)

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Missy | October 13, 2005

Damn. I missed Lost last night. But let’s just say I had a really, really, good eff-ing reason. Updates?

(Meanwhile: I don’t think this rain will ever end. I dunno, I may bust out into some Grace Chang musical numbers.*)

* Sorry. Obscure reference.
——————————————————-

UPDATE: Final rain-related post. I will be in Vegas the early part of next week. The forecast for the desert? Rain.

(The trip also means I will miss both the My Morning Jacket show and screenings of Gabrielle at MoMA. Bummers.)

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Missy | October 10, 2005

As if I didn’t already know which film closed NYFF last night, my search strings are all over it. You got questions? Comments are open. I’ll start.

Meanwhile, yesterday I did something I rarely do: I completely flaked out on all (well, two) engagements that I had planned. Who knew being lazy could be such fun?

(Thoughts on Sokurov’s The Sun and Ch

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Missy | October 8, 2005

Dear MTA,

You always have to make things difficult for me, don’t you? It’s bad enough that I’m often forced to take the ghetto bus when I go to Williamsburg. I thought living near multiple lines just this side of the East River in a nice neighborhood would be a great thing, but I am running out of contingency travel plans because of you. You know that your service advisory page is practically my most frequented page, no? Today I have to go up to Lincoln Center and I’m not happy about it. You’re almost dead to me, MTA.

Signed,
Your Loyal Customer
*****
Dear Flowerbox Petunias,

I thought you were dead.

Signed,
A Believer
*****
Dear Rain,

You’re wreaking havoc on my hair. Also, I have to schlep up to Lincoln Center today.

Signed,
Annoyed
*****
Dear Brown Three-Inch Heels,

You made yesterday’s outfit–one that I received multiple compliments on–come together perfectly, but you are not designed for schlepping around the city come rainy nightfall. My feet told me to tell you that they hate you right now. Nerves are still too raw for me to try to play peacemaker among the four of you just yet.

Signed,
Gimpy

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Missy | October 2, 2005

Closing night performance of Agora at McCarren Pool, Williamsburg

While in line for Agora, someone behind us in line, remarking on the fall weather, mentioned it was sort of like heading out for a high school football game. Instead, this was a site-specific dance piece in Brooklyn that just happened to take place in a long-unused empty pool the size of a football field. An enormous space, in other words. I think we were on the “good” end of the pool because I didn’t think the scale of the space overwhelmed the piece as much as I was lead to believe. That all said, at first I felt like I was watching something inspired by 8 1/2–it was a little too circus-y, except without any discernable motivation. Then the piece moved into a series of what I saw as attempts at things cultural–specifically, funk, flamenco, street jazz, etc–but I found the choreographer’s touch to be unimaginative and a bit lazy. Still, the scope of the piece was such that there was always something somewhere to focus one’s eyes upon, so I must give her credit for pulling this off. And there were some “cool” moments, notably a series of dancers with skateboards strapped to their backs being hurled around. And, the end, again perhaps a nod to Fellini unless I’m completely making up that interpretation, featured the dancers gradually and, at first, almost unnoticeably pulling members of the crowd into the space, until most everyone (and there were hundreds and hundreds of people there) came from all sides and found themselves in the center of the pool.

Later, we had drinks and snacks at Lodge before seeing singer-songwriter and terrific lyricist Kevin Devine play at Trash. When his set finished, we were unexpectedly delighted to find the place turn into Dance Party USA, only with better music and smaller hair.

More photos here, with some of the same commentary seen in this post and then some. (Pretty much the entirety of the evening featured lighting unfriendly to photography. I’m just saying.)

UPDATE:
After years away from dance, Claire Danes returned to it due in part to her own yearning as well as having a friend whose mother happens to be choreographer Tamar Rogoff. The piece, Christina Olson: American Model is an abstract account of the subject of Andrew Wyeth’s painting Christina’s World. Christina Olson suffered from undiagnosed polio and stubbornly used her own strength to move herself around (which is to say, she crawled) and she lived in that house in the painting until she died in the late 60’s.

Danes’ return to dance started with lessons in the mechanics of isolated movement from within along with improvisation; sprung from these sessions, along with Rogoff’s interest in the painting, Rogoff set Christina upon Danes, whose body structure reminded her of Christina’s. As for the part of this write-up you may or may not be waiting for, I must say that Danes was wonderful. She looks older and more angular (though during the post-performance Q&A, she was animated and bit goofy, though clearly intelligent), and she can move. More importantly, her intensity and focus were breathtaking, without being in any way actorly. She effortlessly gave every movement meaning. The piece itself, highly gestural with a lot of (though not exclusively) pedestrian movement, is quite moving for the first half or so, until video clips of Danes crawling across E. 9th Street up 1st Ave and into PS122 (we were told that it was to accent what it must be like to live by the strength of one’s arms) along with some strange music shifts and then a return to earlier-seen choreographic compositions leading up to an explosive finale left the piece as a whole somewhat confusingly splayed.

Also, there was no Billy Crudup sighting.

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