DCDanceBlog

and it said:

“AUNTS is about having dance happen. The dance you’ve already seen, that pops into your head, that is known and expected and unknown and unexpected. Dance that seeps into the cracks of street lights, subway commotion, magazine myth, drunk nights at the bar, the family album, and the couch where you lay and softly glance at the afternoon light coming in through the window. AUNTS constantly tests a model of producing dance/performance/parties. A model that supports the development of current, present, and contemporary dancing. A model that expects to be adopted, adapted, replicated, and perpetuated by any person who would like to use it. Where performing can last five seconds or five hours; never a “work in progress.” Where the work of performing is backed by the “land of plenty” rather than “there is not enough.” Where the work of AUNTS defies the regulation of institution, capitalism, and consumerism. AUNTS is about being gracious in this world. Thank you.”

quite swell huh? but wtf is this “aunts” thing?

this might clarify a little:

Aunts is Dance/248 Bedstuy Gallery

leapday leapnight party

friday february 29, 2008
8pm@The 248 BS Gallery

admission=donation to the FREE BAR

curation:megan byrne

INCLUDING:
jacob kovner
ali harmer
theo angell + mgm
alisha westerman
daniel squire
christina zani
rebecca lubart
tatyana tenenbaum
nora stephens
siri peterson
sara worden
cheap cake dance club
everything one in the disc of the sun
william herwig
maggie bennett
novice theory
liliana dirks-goodman/laurie berg
tuesday faust
madeline best/patric davison
jim byrne
colin stillwel
asobtout

The 248 Bed-Stuy Gallery is located at 248 Monroe St., southeast from
Nostrand Ave. By subway, take the G train (Bedford-Nostrand stop) and
walk with the traffic to Monroe. Or take the A/C train (Nostrand
stop) and walk against traffic.

www.myspace.com/AUNTS
www.myspace.com/248bs

——————-

doesn’t it seem so cute?! (meaning COOL!). basically they have a few folks presenting work, and next time they will each ask another person to present their work. i guess this concept more or less could only happen in nyc where there actually ARE thousands of dancers and dance artists who are waiting for opportunities to show work.

i can’t wait to catch it next time.

most of the time I hate the metro, but there are times when i love it.

tonight was one of those. i was riding back from alexandria on the blue line, which i never take. somewhere around national airport, two guys got on. one was in his 40’s, tall with a neatly groomed grayish ponytail and wearing an outback-style hat. the other was young, 28 or so, blue eyed and dorky.

within seconds of sitting down, the older guy started crying. it was really weird. i heard someone sniffling, and then i saw the younger guy look at the older guy and then look straight ahead, shocked. so i looked over, and saw the older guy with his hand over his eyes. definitely crying.

i started imagining where he’d come from. i was picturing a recently dead wife, a father with alzheimer’s, a college friend he hadn’t seen in many years. i loved that he was able to be there, crying. i cry in public a lot—i don’t like to hold back—but i’ve noticed that not a lot of people do. i loved not only that this guy was able to go for it, but also that he retained a quiet dignity while doing it, a sense of gravity.

somehow the younger guy also had a depth to him. he mostly stared into space with his eyes unnaturally wide open, but there was something genuine and grounded about him.

at pentagon city, two overweight guys and their preteen sons got on. they added static to the scene but the noise was kind of interesting; it created a new, colorful backdrop.

then at rosslyn everyone got off in one fell swoop–whoosh. the scene changed immediately and a group of students got on. i could just tell they were students, though they were probably in their 30s. three of them were black, but each with a very distinctive look. one was sweet, another hip, and the third just odd looking—a country boy, maybe. all three seemed very thoughtful and they talked in a relaxed, open way. i was sure that they were aware of my presence, listening to them, though they didn’t acknowledge me.

i felt privileged to be able to observe these various people, to enter into their faces and eyes for even just five minutes. all of them—the crying guy, the dork, the black guys—they felt real, present, flesh and blood.

and then a couple of what i think of as “typical dc types” got on the train, and the spell was broken. a blond woman who’d probably once been a sorority girl, a preppy boy—i see people them all over dc and never feel they’re quite real, fully embracing or admitting to the 360 degrees of life.

the trip as a whole reminded me of how much i love to enter into strangers’ lives and minds as much as possible, and that i want to do more of it in some capacity. And that i’d like to make art about it, dances that capture the curiosity and passion that i feel about people. But how? i read today in the ny times about a comedian who “gets her material from daily life, like most comedians.” i don’t get my material from daily life—but i’d like to.

i can’t believe how many comments i’ve gotten from various dc dancers and dance supporters re: the letter i wrote to the washington post in response to rebecca ritzel’s article about the maryland dance showcase. daniel burkholder also wrote a blog entry about that article, and generated a conversation that went beyond dc.

it’s obvious, though, there’s been a lot of animosity brewing in this city for a long time. the “meet the critics” panel that dance/metro dc held a few months ago (rob bettmann transcribed some of the comments here) did nothing to dispel it–which isn’t surprising. it certainly felt like sarah kaufman, the biggest wig there, came into that event prepared to be defensive, and never gave an inch.

anonymous dancer recently commented on that panel and its outcome:

i guess it all comes down to opinions and we the dance community just sit and read and accept these reviews. we show up at roundtables with the reviewers that are Walt Disney World / Leave It to Beaver rehearsed stints so we can understand better “where they are coming from”. but all we want is for them to understand dance. there needs to be more two way communication allowances for the artists with the reviewers. and there really needs to be more education of the reviewer.

i actually wrote sarah kaufman on that topic last week after submitting the letter to the editor (which she was also cc’d on). i went into a little more detail about my frustrations regarding ms. ritzel’s review. i wrote:

You’re probably tired of dancers complaining about the Post’s coverage of local dance, and it’s probably easy to write us off as being disgruntled about poor reviews. But frankly, I’m willing to bet that we read the dance reviews closer than anyone else in DC, and I think our comments are worth taking seriously. Please, let us hold you accountable from time to time.

she wrote me back right away (which impressed me), but simply repeated the line that “disagreeing with critics is built in to the system of publishing criticism.” that comment said to me that she’s determined not to listen to criticism.

boris brought my attention to a recent article by ms. kaufman on a performane by aeros, where she managed to not only diss the group itself, but also the washington performing arts society’s recent programming efforts (which have been focused on local dance groups).

boris said he was frustrated:

Not because she disses WPAS but because she reveals her hostility towards local dance. The problem is that for anyone reading the review it seems that the season the WPAS is producing is going progressively downhill and that local dance, while not as bad as Aeros, is worse than Cunningham…It does anger me when these kinds of comparisons are made and the group of people I dance with are looked down upon.

he’s right. it’s lame. ultimately it shows a lack of interest or faith in local dance, and certainly a lack of support.

oh well. why am i devoting all this space and energy to this issue? suddenly it seems ridiculous.

and yet, my friend was pointing out today how crazy it is that we all devote so much time and energy to something that rewards us with almost no money. we do it simply because we love it–there is no other reason. so of course we want to be noticed. it’s natural.

i performed this weekend with next reflex, a group i’ve been working with recently. ahh, performance is so funny. i read on kelly mayfield’s blog (somewhere–i can’t find it anymore!) how much she loves performing, how it is the place where she feels most alive. i love performing too–the way that those moments onstage extend and force me to be only present, only there in that moment. most of all, what i love is looking out into the audience, the black space where i know people must be, with an open face and body–it’s like leaping into a void and trusting that i will be held.

but a really common feeling for me right before i go on, particularluy when i’m doing a solo or a piece that’s esp physically demanding, is “what the fuck was i thinking when i agreed to this?”

i recently heard that the owners of the warehouse are willing to lend out their theatre (for free) for some kind of regularly occurring “open showings” event. i think that’s extremely cool; there was a period last year when i was thinking about organizing something like that (i wrote about it in an earlier blog post here), and i still think it coudl be a cool thing.

the deal is this: they’d let us use their theatre every tuesday, though i’m thinking that the show would probably be once a month; i’m  not sure how much interest there is for something to occur more often. maybe we’d charge a few dollars, to cover the cost of making fliers, and it’d be open for artists of any discipline (but with a particular focus on dance) to show work in progress or experimental work. the main point would be to provide a venue where artists can be motivated to try something new, take some chances, and not feel like they have to present polished work.

oh yeah, i forgot to add that the warehouse will be closing in july, so this series would only have a 4 month run. but if people are into it, or if momentum seems to be building, then i’m sure we could find a new home for it.

i know this blog has been out of commission for a little while so maybe we don’t have a lot of readers yet…but i’m curious if there’s interest in this.

sarah kaufman has temporarily redeemed herself in my eyes.

she reviewed the japanese butoh group, sankai juku, in the style section of today’s post. the group performed at the kennedy center earlier this week. i saw them as well, and i found her review to be pretty right on, at least relative to my own feelings about the performance. so it turns out she can appreciate modern modern dance too, not just contemporary ballet and ballet-inspired modern! a surprise.

the performance was interesting, but i was most struck by the response of the dc audience. a lot of folks walked out during the show, but those who stayed applauded very enthusiastically; some even stood up and hooted their appreciation. that’s pretty notable for dc’s stodgy audiences, b/c it was definitely a trippy show. after the first section, the people onstage lost their resemblance to real humans; they bodie were painted white, faces obscured at times, and they rarely exhibited human emotions or interactions. and of course at times they moved incredibly slowly, as butoh is known for.

the whole thing wound up feeling really sculptural, as a set of pretty amazing images. the most compelling came at the end, with powerful music and images of death or redemption.

i left thinking that all the images might percolate in my mind and provide me with some kind of final sense or resolution about the piece. you know how that sometimes happens, how the effects of something you experience can come as a delayed reaction? but in this case, nothing came. i think that, despite my general enjoyment of the show, the strong images weren’t powerful enough–or were mixed with too many ineffective ones–to give me some kind of emotional response. but it still was inspriring to observe a unique conception of what a movement performance can be.

i’m sure everyone has seen this youtube by now, of the people frozen in grand central.

it’s definitely amazing, from a visual point of view. nonetheless, i’m curious why it’s gotten so much press. probably 5 people have forwarded it to me, and i’ve seen it featured on a few high profile blogs as well. a quick google search came up with more than 10 google pages of links.

i’m familiar w/ (and a fan of) the folks who directed the scene, improv everywhere. their stuff in the past has been very similar–people frozen in home depot, a repeating loop of scenes in starbucks, pantless subway riders–so this didn’t take me too much by surprise. i think this one got so much notice not b/c it’s so different, but b/c they put more effort into it. the video is more sophisticated, with multiple angles and a lot of wide shots, and the fact that they were able to catch the astonished comments of passersby is very impressive. and i would bet that they put quite a bit more effort into marketing it.

it’s pretty amazing how the whole youtube/blog phenomenon has taken off so fast and become a world of its own. just like the obama song lotta posted below–i received about 5 emails of that too, and frankly, i was really impressed with it. it’s been viewed some 4 million times.

then there’s these guys in queens who created a show, “we need girlfriends,” that’s become a youtube hit. the guys were profiled in the ny times this weekend; apparently they now have a contract w/ tv producers in LA!

it’s a new world, for sure. what’s cool about it is that it’s so new that laypeople can actually find a niche for themselves and even become “experts.” that’s why there are all these 20-something hotshot guys who’ve now become serious journalists or high-level political advisors–they were able to learn about, and learn to exploit, this niche very early.

thanks to ms el for that nice mention. i was glad too that the post printed the letter; that review made me so mad!

i’ve decided to try and get back on the blog, the bucking bronco that is the dcdanceblog. i miss it! i looked at some other dance blogs recently and felt jealous of the content there and of the writers’ freedom. plus, i remember how having the blog as an outlet, writing on it almost every day, got my creative juices flowing. it’s funny but i think that’s a truth about creativity: using it begets more of it.

i also QUIT MY JOB (applause please)! yes, that’s right, i quit my job, so i have more space in my head now for the blog, i think. i want to start writing much much more, not just about dance, so i’m not sure how this blog will figure into the grand scheme of things. but for now, i’ll just go for it.

Last year Lisa Traiger butchered the annual showcase at Clarice Smith. This year it’s Rebecca J Ritzel’s turn.

I saw both showcases and I was part of both showcases. Traiger’s review (which btw is titled “Please pass the Prozac” — love it) is in my opinion quite right on -the showcase as a whole was quite depressing- even if she heavily ditched Noopur Singa’s brilliant piece “Kids & Science”. This piece challenged a lot of conventions and for that alone I think she deserved some credit.

However, this year, Ms Ritzel is so far gone in crazy land that she must either have a complete lack of modern dance experience, or be sucking on a crack pipe. The way she selects the most stereotypical and old fashioned piece, “The Hunt of the Gatherers” - a composition that goes for the most tiresome formations and uninspired combinations of neoclassical steps a la Ailey, as the one piece of the evening that “deserve[d] a life beyond the showcase” is such a hit under the belt to all postmodern dancers that I wonder how it was even possible that the Post published it.

Someone, who instead of wining, wrote a letter to the editor is Miss EyEy, our own Amanda Abrams. In today’s Washington Post her piece got published and you can also read it online here.

No, seriously. This is such sad sad stuff. Seriously seriously seriously…

Anyway, if you haven’t yet seen what I think is the most ingenious piece of art in a long time: the Yes We Can-video, please watch it. And then on Tuesday, go vote.