Sure, Critique Ballet and Balanchine, but Erika Lantz Does it Wrong
Pain has been felt in the halls of Balanchine’s house, but joy and beauty exist too. Neither outweighs the other.
Pain has been felt in the halls of Balanchine’s house, but joy and beauty exist too. Neither outweighs the other.
Like a giant notebook portfolio or a crumpled map in the glove box of a borrowed car, the paper endures, holds the changes, shows the history of Sha and Sarah’s togetherness— and our witnessing of that togetherness.
For us, the dancers translate a shared archive into movement.
maura re/members with george emilio sanchez’s “In the Court of the Conquerer” & zavé martohardjono’s “TERRITORY: the Island Remembers” – audio version link available at top of post
“…one dancer’s hands on the foreheads of the other two, leading the paths of their movement; a dancer leaning on another who was kneeling on the floor, using them as an anchor, stability; the soloist connecting with the floor as the other dancers stared into her…”
I put my arms around the dry branches, sunk my face between the needles. I remembered holding you like this before you left. I remembered when we did this without thinking.
Paper. A tongue? A face? Hands, elbows, emerging body parts. Two bodies. Questions. Who are they to each other? Will they ever come out from behind the semi-translucent wall? Conceal and reveal. Discovery. Peekaboo, peep show, peeling back wrapping paper; pulling the curtain open in a stranger’s house to see a familiar smile.
A dominating thread of grief and healing wound its way through La MaMa Moves! 2021 and most of the artists brought song and storytelling into a festival that, as curator Nicky Paraiso acknowledged was full of resilient artists “making work that is essential and true to this pivotal moment in time.”
Fact and fiction, inseparable, blur and tease. Cut to disco ball, still swinging. Slow down and watch the air sparkle.
And then, time reversed itself.
We sit like middle schoolers at lunch, cliques separated by social barriers. People chat. “Did you get the job?” “The one at TikTok? No, it was a no. They said they’re on a hiring freeze.”
Black Dance Stories is exactly what it sounds like and precisely what we need right now. It’s a distillation of insightful moments in post-performance talkbacks spliced with casual conversations you once shared over drinks, plus powerful sentiments you’re overhearing now at BLM protests.