Blogs The Green Room

Mariano Pensotti: Our Love Project Has So Much Potential

Mariano Pensotti listened to Of Montreal’s song “The Past is a Grotesque Animal” “a lot” while he created his theater work coming to the Walker. Pensotti said, “Its excessive duration and ambitious narrative made me feel it [was] close to what I was developing. I decided to use the name and include the lyrics in […]

Mariano Pensotti listened to Of Montreal’s song “The Past is a Grotesque Animal” “a lot” while he created his theater work coming to the Walker. Pensotti said, “Its excessive duration and ambitious narrative made me feel it [was] close to what I was developing. I decided to use the name and include the lyrics in the play when the stories reach their end.”

The song is pretty epic. Check it here:

The Past Is a Grotesque Animal plays the McGuire Theater January 26-28, 2012.

chelfitsch: Mumblechoreography

chelfitsch will return to the Walker three years after their January 2009 presentation of Five Days in March, which was a piece about twenty-somethings shacking up at love hotels at the beginning of the Iraq War. Their work coming to the Walker January 19-21, 2012, is Hot Pepper, Air Conditioner and The Farewell Speech; originally […]


chelfitsch will return to the Walker three years after their January 2009 presentation of Five Days in March, which was a piece about twenty-somethings shacking up at love hotels at the beginning of the Iraq War. Their work coming to the Walker January 19-21, 2012, is Hot Pepper, Air Conditioner and The Farewell Speech; originally three separate pieces, chelfitsch director Toshiki Okada combined them into a magnum opus of sorts.

chelfitsch’s singular anti-choreograpy emphasizes the ways we are stuck in our bodies, employing a dance vocabulary of formalized awkwardness and hunched postures that registers its relevance in terms of a contemporary experience of youth. If Robert Longo ever choreographed a piece about twenty-somethings stuck in a Japanese temp agency, it would look something like this.

The characters speak in fragmentary sentences and their movement could be called hyper-pedestrian in the ways ordinariness is magnified and repeated until it becomes its own vernacular. chelfitsch’s parallels with the American film sub-genre/phenomenon of Mumblecore seem striking, as relationships and conversations take precedence over narrative cues.  More literally, the company’s name comes from a mumbled, disarticulation of the English word “selfish.”

You can watch snippets of each piece in the video below, made by the Japan Society, with Japan Society Director Yoko Shioya providing some contextualization.

Acclaimed playwright/director of chelfitsch Toshiki Okada will lead an Inside Out There workshop Saturday, January 21 at 11 am. Participants will explore the nature of unconscious physical movements in creating choreography. Open to all levels of movers.

 

Photos by Toru Yokota

Oscillating Absurdities: Beirut’s Rabih Mroue responds to a “traumatized society”

Rabih Mroué— Lebanese visual and performance artist, actor, director, and playwright—is performing Looking for a Missing Employee during the second week of next month’s Out There 2012: Global Visionaries festival. In Looking for a Missing Employee, Mroué performs the role of a multimedia detective mining the fate of one of the tens of thousands of […]

Rabih Mroué— Lebanese visual and performance artist, actor, director, and playwright—is performing Looking for a Missing Employee during the second week of next month’s Out There 2012: Global Visionaries festival. In Looking for a Missing Employee, Mroué performs the role of a multimedia detective mining the fate of one of the tens of thousands of Lebanese people who went missing during the Lebanese Civil War.

Mroué has said, “How can one establish dialogue in a traumatized society, aware of this reality but not falling into the trap of disconsolate mourning, as the politics of memory is often seen today?” He answers partly through the use of absurdity in his work.

 

"Make Me Stop Smoking" 2006, video stills courtesy Rabih Mroué

 

In Mroué’s work Make Me Stop Smoking, he re-casts Freud as a member of Hezbollah, and in I, the Undersigned he “addresses the lack of accountability of those responsible for the Lebanese Civil War by offering his own striking apology.”

"I, the Undersigned" 2007, video stills courtesy Rabih Mroué

 

About his work How Nancy Wished That Everything Was An April Fool’s Joke, the New York Times wrote:

The four characters tell stories of contradiction that ricochet off one another. They will adhere to an ideological position and then change it. They pledge loyalty to a political leader and then betray him. They make allies and then forsake them. They switch sides and get lost. In each story they tell they are killed in battle, only to come back to life again in the next round, like irrepressible players of video games.

With similar irrepressibility, his work Old House (2006) oscillates visually between destruction and composure while Mroué at the same time narrates his own process of “remembering and forgetting.” And in Noiseless (2008) he presents a concocted newspaper article about his own disappearance with an image of himself that eventually blends into the notices of other missing persons until his image evaporates and becomes a void.

 

Born in 1967, Rabih Mroué began his work in plays, performance, and video in 1990, also the year the Lebanese Civil War ended. His emergence marks the aftereffects of a chronically “traumatized society,” one in which absurdity becomes the commensurate accuracy with which to express the loss of a quarter million people, and the tens of thousands disappeared.

Mroué’s investigation of the disappeared of his home country recalls, for me, the desaperacidos of another place, same time (roughly). Pinochet’s regime in Chile began before the Lebanese Civil War and continued over the same time period, with the disappeared in Chile numbering over 3,000. Most of all I am reminded of Roberto Bolaño’s novel Distant Star, which similarly mines the absurdity of (Chile’s) “traumatized society.” Distant Star tells the life story of Lorenzo—an HIV-positive gay artist with no arms who was born into poverty and became an adult at the height of Pinochet’s reign—who commits suicide by jumping into the ocean but who changes his mind at the last minute and swims to the surface using only his torso and legs:  “In the current socio-political climate…committing suicide is absurd and redundant. Better to become an undercover poet.”

Continually plagued by censorship at home, Mroué has freely performed his theater work and exhibited his visual art abroad, including the Istanbul Bienniale (2009), Prefix Institute for Contemporary Art in Toronto, and recently at the Rivington Gallery in London. As part of a U.S. performance debut tour, his engagement at the Walker is from January 12-14 2012 and includes an Inside Out There workshop January 14 , 11 am, where Mroué will present The Pixelated Revolution, a lecture-performance about the impact of mobile phones and social media in the recent Syrian uprising.

 

Young Jean Lee: Destroy the Audience

  With the Walker Cinema closed for renovation all of January, it appears the Out There Festival really is one of the few reasons to love living in Minneapolis during our tundra months. Out There opens with Young Jean Lee’s latest, Untitled Feminist Show (formerly Untitled Feminist Multimedia Technology Show), which workshopped at the New […]

Young Jean Lee Theater Company t-shirt

 

With the Walker Cinema closed for renovation all of January, it appears the Out There Festival really is one of the few reasons to love living in Minneapolis during our tundra months. Out There opens with Young Jean Lee’s latest, Untitled Feminist Show (formerly Untitled Feminist Multimedia Technology Show), which workshopped at the New Museum last December and generated so much controversy that Young Jean Lee’s Theater Company has a word doc exceeding 100 pages with all the comments they received. The completed work has its world premiere here January 5-7, 2012, and it’s likely its reception will be just as effusive.

Even at the Walker, where nudity in live performance often finds a home (Naked and Choreographers’ Evening come to mind) Young Jean Lee’s new work caused a minor discussion in regards to marketing here: it was decided the best disclaimer is “this performance contains (a lot of) nudity,” but we just as easily could have said “this performance contains only nudity.” Eschewing text for choreography and music alone, Untitled Feminist Show is a different direction from Young Jean Lee’s previous work which has always maintained a script of some sort.

From workshop footage I’ve seen let’s say this piece takes the opposite approach to a Laura Mulvey-type organization (sublation) of visual pleasure and opts instead for a disorienting hypergaze of explosive spectacle.  The completely naked provocation will probably be especially shocking as we arrive to the theater donned in our excessive layers of winter gear.

Besides the show, there is an also an opportunity to take a writing workshop with Young Jean Lee on Saturday January 7. As editor of the anthology New Downtown Now: An Anthology of Theater from Downtown New York and master class-teacher at NYU/Tisch and the Eugene O’Neill Theatre Center, this Inside Out There workshop will be a chance to generate some surprising new material under the guidance of  of an avant-theater iconoclast.

Two Takes on Choreographers’ Evening

Patrick Scully is performing in this year’s Choreographers’ Evening. Patrick Scully also performed in Choreographers’ Evening nearly 40 years ago, in 1972. You can listen to him talk about circularity and Sage Awards gossip on the latest episode of Talk Dance with Justin Jones. You can hear this year’s curator for Choreographers’ Evening, Chris Schlichting, […]

Patrick Scully is performing in this year’s Choreographers’ Evening. Patrick Scully also performed in Choreographers’ Evening nearly 40 years ago, in 1972. You can listen to him talk about circularity and Sage Awards gossip on the latest episode of Talk Dance with Justin Jones.

You can hear this year’s curator for Choreographers’ Evening, Chris Schlichting, talk about his choices and experience curating in the other latest episode of Talk Dance with Justin Jones.

Tickets remain for this Saturday’s 7 pm and 9:30 show!

 

photo by Cameron Wittig

In the Directors’ Chair: Marcela Lorca to host talk tonight with Annie-B Parson

After tonight’s performance of Big Dance Theater’s Supernatural Wife, Guthrie Movement Director Marcela Lorca (and recent director of another modern take on Greek tragedy, The Burial at Thebes) will lead a Q&A with Big Dance Theater Co-Director Annie-B Parson.

After tonight’s performance of Big Dance Theater’s Supernatural Wife, Guthrie Movement Director Marcela Lorca (and recent director of another modern take on Greek tragedy, The Burial at Thebes) will lead a Q&A with Big Dance Theater Co-Director Annie-B Parson.

Annie-B Parson (left) with Big Dance Theater Co-Director Paul Lazar (photo by Jeff Larson courtesy of Big Dance Theater)

Marcela Lorca (photo by Mike Haberman courtesy the Guthrie Theater)

Today is Merce Cunningham Day in Chicago

Today is Merce Cunningham Day in Chicago, thanks to a proclamation from the city’s mayor, Rahm Emanuel — himself a former dancer. Coinciding with this weekend’s performances at Columbia College, the decree celebrates the late “Cunningham’s extraordinary love of dance” and honors “the last dancers he chose and trained for the company.” In addition to […]

Today is Merce Cunningham Day in Chicago, thanks to a proclamation from the city’s mayor, Rahm Emanuel — himself a former dancer. Coinciding with this weekend’s performances at Columbia College, the decree celebrates the late “Cunningham’s extraordinary love of dance” and honors “the last dancers he chose and trained for the company.”

In addition to being President Barack Obama’s former chief of staff, Emanuel is a dance enthusiast who turned down a scholarship from the city’s prestigious ballet and instead studied dance at Sarah Lawrence. He reportedly took ballet classes up until the birth of his second child. The New Yorker sums up his experience:

Emanuel received dance training in high school, and danced for a year at Sarah Lawrence after turning down a scholarship to the Joffrey Ballet School; as a freshman, he appeared in a modern-dance piece called “Desire.”

As mayor, Emanuel has promoted dance heavily, most notably through this August’s Chicago Dancing Festival. He was named an honorary board member of the Joffrey this June for being “a vocal proponent of elevating Chicago’s performing and visual arts community to even higher international recognition.”

In his proclamation, Emanuel noted that the Cunningham company — which brought its final Legacy Tour to the Walker early this month — has performed numerous times in Chicago, “a city that Merce himself stated has ‘wonderful audience for dance.”

“[I]t’s impossible not to be moved by this news,” writes New York Times dance critic Alastair Macaulay. “It’s thrilling to find a leading political figure showing this degree of appreciation for a historic moment in dance.”

Here’s the full text of the proclamation (pdf):

OFFICE OF THE MAYOR, CITY OF CHICAGO
RAHM EMANUEL, Mayor

PROCLAMATION

WHEREAS, the Merce Cunningham Dance Company is making its final appearance in Chicago November 18-19 near the completion of an historic two-year, world-wide Legacy Tour; and

WHEREAS, the Tour will celebrate the creativity of American choreographer Merce Cunningham (1919-2009) and feature the final generation of dancers chosen and trained by Cunningham himself; and

WHEREAS, Cunningham’s lifelong passion for dance and his innovative choreography continues to inspire generations of audiences and dance artists, putting forth new concepts for the choreography, dance technique and artistic collaboration in concert dance; and

WHEREAS, over the past 60 years the Cunningham Dance Company has appeared many times in Chicago, a city that Merce himself stated “has wonderful audience for dance”; and

WHEREAS, it is fitting to honor Cunningham’s extraordinary love of dance, as well as honor the last dancers he chose and trained for his company:

NOW, THEREFORE, I, RAHM EMANUEL, MAYOR OF THE CITY OF CHICAGO, do hereby proclaim November 18, 2011, to be MERCE CUNNINGHAM DAY IN CHICAGO, and urge all Chicagoans to recognize many contributions made by Merce Cunningham Dance Company and its final generation of dancers trained by Merce Cunningham.

Dated this 3rd Day of November, 2011.

Supernatural Hybrid: Storytelling and Something Deeper

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, Penelope Freeh shares her perspective on Thursday night’s performance of Supernatural […]

Big Dance Theater, "Supernatural Wife", commissioned by the Walker Art Center. Photo by Mike Van Sleen

To spark discussion, the Walker invites local artists and critics to write overnight reviews of our performances. The ongoing Re:View series shares a diverse array of independent voices and opinions; it doesn’t reflect the views or opinions of the Walker or its curators. Today, Penelope Freeh shares her perspective on Thursday night’s performance of Supernatural Wife by Big Dance Theater. Agree or disagree? Feel free to share your thoughts in comments!

Big Dance Theater’s Supernatural Wife is at once a paired down and embellished retelling of Alkestis by Euripides. Greek Tragedy with capital letters, indeed. And yet, in its way, and for all its technological bigness, this piece retains what I imagine to be its essence: intimacy, sincerity, and even a little innocence.

Alkestis is the name of King Admetos’ wife, who volunteers to die in her husband’s stead. In the midst of being claimed by Death, she makes clear the condition that her husband may not remarry. Through a convoluted yet sort of sweet set of circumstances, Alkestis is rescued from Hades and returned to her grieving husband. What begins as deliberately overwrought pageantry for the king morphs into wracked mourning. Full body stances that in previous scenes were brilliantly yet comically delivered become layered with true feeling. The cartoon becomes a character. There is a happy ending of sorts, but it is also complicated.

In the beginning a huge round section of floor that has the appearance of marble tile defines and characterizes the stage space, leaving the rest neutrally black. Six chairs filled by the six performers are evenly spaced around the circumference. Participation (complicity) is equally distributed.

A dance ensues, a big dance. Two men take to their boot-clad feet. They jog in place in tandem for a few steps but quickly advance into complicated gestural choreography. The jog/stomp is never far away as the legs too get more advanced. All performers join, and the effect is that of a rite, a ritual, a wild dance of sacrilegious proportions. Torsos are mostly upright. Often the arms are held tightly down or broadly overhead, reminiscent of Irish step dancing. Something is afoot.

The story unfolds using devices like performers speaking melodramatically into mics while another reads the stage directions. The king is played by a woman and our heroine, also not devoid of gimmicks (like fast-talking wise-cracking), reveals herself to be movingly transparent. She and the king embody sincere love and grief and self-reflection. In other words, the stuff of Greek Tragedy.

Big Dance Theater, though co-directed by Annie-B Parson and Paul Lazar, works collaboratively. You can tell, both by the breadth of ideas and the performers’ investment in them. It is as though every notion gets equal play, but instead of feeling like too many cooks the effect is more like a great cultural gathering. It is a bazaar, a market, an Oriental rug, colorful and contextually self-contained.

This group has firm footing in both the dance and theater worlds. It retains the best virtues of each while shedding what might be superfluous. And in the retention and the shedding, something new is revealed, a new way of storytelling and also of abstract dancing that is loaded with context and meaning. Add to these technology and song, and the result is a singular approach to making new work. It is referential in that it is telling an old story and yet its path to getting there is newly forged.

Respective disciplines blur boundaries. Scenes are conveyed through dance-chant-acting hybrids. New and stunningly imagistic models are enacted and propel the story forward. The players never lose sight of the content or trajectory even as they are tampering with the means by which these are conveyed.

My viewing was in such good hands. A story older than dirt became relevant and somehow timely. Alkestis’ dancing solo at the end was sublime in its complexity, conveying the complicated and subtle nature of a happy ending. She was, after all, still alone, as we all are, even when sitting so close.

Cataloguing performance: Who owns what?

What about the notion of ownership – how does that work in the context of performance? It’s a loaded word, to be sure, but one that comes to mind for many in the museum community when you start talking about performing arts, using language like “commissions”, or “collections,” or “acquisitions.” The question arises in the […]

What about the notion of ownership – how does that work in the context of performance? It’s a loaded word, to be sure, but one that comes to mind for many in the museum community when you start talking about performing arts, using language like “commissions”, or “collections,” or “acquisitions.” The question arises in the group discussion: Is it even appropriate to use such language in the context of performing arts? If not, then what, exactly, is the museum’s stake in its commissioned works, and what sort of institutional history is tied up in its internal cataloguing of its investments in such performance pieces?

Peter Taub, of the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago, observes:

 “The notion of individual ownership just doesn’t apply; there are usually multiple commissioning partners behind the development of any given performance work, with shared, vested interests who are all involved in bringing that work to the stage, bringing it to completion. But those commissioning institutions also invest in residency time, in developing contextual material, and building and maintaining a web presence. How do we effectively use all these cohorts, these collaborative partners with a stake in a work, to create a commitment to quality and protocols for consistent documentation of that work? Various museums may have a different valuation for such archival materials and their use; there is no guarantee ‘documentation’ means the same thing to all of them, across the board.”

Chuck Helm of the Wexner Center for the Arts responds, “How then do you position your own investment and institutional history? Your ‘reputational capital’? Is ‘collection’ the way to talk about that?”

Joan Rothfuss, a curator and art historian, clarifies the point nicely, saying:

 “How does any institution actually ‘own’ a commission? A collection includes more than just the objects owned by the museum; an institution’s holdings are not really about collecting and buying, at their heart. ‘Collecting’ works is primarily about preserving and protecting them, presenting them for the public. The process of documenting a performance work for the ‘collection’ provides an institution with the opportunity to delve into what that work is about, to introduce it to people, expand the context to place it in conversation with other objects and projects also important to the museum. ‘Collecting’ a piece is a way an institution declares its commitment to making the work a community resource, something shared –  it’s not a declaration that the work is something to have and hold, separate from that community.”

Sarah Schultz, in the Walker’s education and community programs department echoes that sentiment, saying, “Yes, in my experience, including something in your ‘collection’ speaks of commitment. Given the notion of a museum as a body of people who are producing knowledge around objects and performances, as such when it commissions a piece, its intellectual capital is then dedicated to keeping these works alive. If it’s not in your ‘collection’ you may give these things less attention than those your institution has committed to in that way.”

Ben Harrison of the Andy Warhol Museum then brings up the sticky issue of profit: “Where does packaging and restaging the works in a museum’s collection fit in? Is the work remounted? Beyond stewardship, what about the financial considerations, the revenue generated for an institution by loaning out or remounting its ‘owned’ pieces? At the Warhol Museum, for instance, we generate much of our income through preparing curated packages of work in our collection for touring exhibitions.”

Merce Cunningham Dance Company performing "Interscape" (2000), with costumes and décor by Robert Rauschenberg. Courtesy Tony Dougherty

And what about this: Even if you’re unconcerned with remounting a performance piece, what if, as an institution, you simply want to “animate” the pieces in your collection? What sorts of gestures can you use to bring the history of a work to life, in the exhibition of archival information and materials about a performance work after the fact?

Along those lines, Sarah Schultz of the Walker asks, “Do we have the rights to recreate those Rauschenberg costumes (in the Merce collection) for educational purposes, for a program or event? Can we create a facsimile of those materials for the sake of ‘animating the collection’ for gallery visitors?

Trevor Carlson, of MCDC quickly responds, “No, your ownership doesn’t extend that far.”

Bonnie Brooks, the Legacy fellow for the Cunningham Foundation, continues, “This brings to mind George Ballanchine: When he passed, he left his dances to a number of people, each of whom then owned the rights to those dances. What that suggests to me is there’s a precedent we’re not talking about – that particular works could be owned by someone other than the maker. There isn’t a lot of precedent for the situation, granted, but an institution might suggest they want to ‘buy’ intellectual rights to a piece, that they want to actually own every aspect of it. That may be part of what lies ahead in terms of various rights to and ownership of work.”

Philip Bither weighs in, saying, “That’s a very provocative idea, isnt’ it? But right now, a bedrock value [here] is that ownership stays with the artist. It’s written into all our commissioning agreements at the Walker: We don’t own the meat of the performance itself. Maybe, if ‘collection’ as the working lexicon is a distraction, perhaps we should change the vocabulary – call these performance commissions our ‘archive collection’ or something less loaded with connotations of ownership.”

Michele Steinwald, assistant curator for the Walker’s performing arts, goes further, saying “We’re like early investors, entitled to something like royalties if a show turns into a blockbuster, but that’s the extent of our ‘ownership’ to a work.”

“The desire to monetize the investment around commissioning work is a controversial one,” responds Bither. “And it’s something we, as the commissioners. have mixed emotions about it. You hear about the occasional blockbusters, which offer dividends to their investors (like, say, A Chorus Line). But the fact is: most of the artists we work with will never see commercial benefits, or any sort of big compensation for their work. Even if they do, our contract still doesn’t really stipulate hard details about ‘royalties,’ just that we’ll have a conversation about profit sharing if the situation arises.”

Bonnie Brooks, with the Cunningham Foundation, says, “Commissioning performance isn’t acquisitive, though. As you describe it, it’s a transactional relationship between the artist and the institution. In that case, you can discuss the trail of the performance, the tracings left behind – but the work and its documentation is simply not a collectible, as such. With regard to performing arts and visual arts: you just can’t compare the two; it’s apples and oranges.”

What happens when those categories between disciplines aren’t so neatly defined?

Robin Dowden points to an example: “Tino Seghal was commissioned by the Walker as ‘performance art’, and his work is catalogued and marked as part of the visual arts collection. Eiko & Koma were commissioned also, but Naked is not in the catalog because it wasn’t formally acquired in that way, but rather served as a kind of ‘performance’ in the galleries. How do we mix these very different sorts of projects the institution’s supporting together in a meaningful way, a coherent way – regardless of whether they came in through door #1 (visual art) or door #2 (performing art).”

And this brings the conversation in the group down to brass tacks: Assuming the artist and institution are on the same page about documentation, its contents and aims and end users – What is the best way to keep track of the information?

Merce Cunningham Dance Company performing "Minutiae" (1954) against the backdrop of Rauschenberg’s work of the same name. Photo by Herb Migdall, 1976, courtesy Cunningham Dance Foundation

This is where the grant from Institute for Museum and Library Services (IMLS) comes in. Three partner organizations, funded by IMLS, are working on a new project to develop open source innovations to help with such institutional information gathering and preserving, CollectionSpace. Those partnering organizations – the Walker Art Center, Museum of the Moving Image, and University of California-Berkeley — are each working in a difference “community of practice” to build cataloguing software that might be seamlessly integrated into the working lives of museum professionals working with a variety of objects and information. For its part, the Walker is in the process of developing such cataloguing software for performing arts. The larger interest, by CollectionSpace and IMLS, is in establishing common tools for museums and institutions to use to change how we manage, care for, and store collections information.

Angela Spinazze, our workshop leader, closes the day’s conversations by inviting a group critique on some of the Walker’s initial forays into that new way of classifying and storing performing arts information; Robin Dowden presents a series of “wireframes” to give an idea what various cataloguing ‘pages’ might look like.

Spinazze raises this issue to the group: “At CollectionSpace, we’re trying to move in a direction that keeps true to record-keeping practices that we already know work, while also taking advantage of new software tools so that adapting to changing technologies isn’t such a burden.” She goes on to ask, “Why do our software applications feel so clunky to use? As we develop these common tools, we want to make our respositories for information more intuitive to use, because the cumbersome applications we’ve been using thus far have resulted in unhelpful silos of information, separated by department and which can’t easily be cross-referenced with one another.”

She says further, “This IMLS Grant gives us an opportunity to talk about ‘communities of practice’ – that’s why we’re talking with you, the people who work in these fields of practice, because you know best what you need to make your work flow more smoothly. We hope to share tools, share technology, and in so doing come up with common practices and interfaces that make all your jobs easier. But first, we’d need to settle upon some shared definitions of terms and establish some common goals for our ‘collections’ information.”

“Ultimately,” she says, “with a new way to gather and store information that’s more in keeping with the way your institutions and artists need to use the material gathered, we want to change the paradigm for the catalogue – not how you do your work. We’re building a new foundation, a framework on which to build what’s common across your institutions. Then, maybe we can also offer a way to configure an open-source software application to help toward that end, something any institution with similar concerns can access. This is a community-sourced approach that will always be freely shared and at no cost to users – it’s a public, not private good.”

##

Related links:

Read the first post in this series on cataloguing performance - “How to Catch Lightning in a Bottle.”

Read the second post in the series – “How Do You Keep Both History and Magic Alive?”

Read the third post in the series – “Opening the Kimono – How much to reveal and to whom?”

Susannah Schouweiler serves as editor for the weekly updated arts writing and criticism published on mnartists.org, as well as the site’s twice-monthly e-mag access+ENGAGE. She has also written for a number of outlets, including Ruminator magazine, MinnPost.com, City Pages, The Rake, Minneapolis Observer, and the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation’s Knight Arts blog.

Metal, Minimalism, Coen Bros Score, Flaming Lips and Christian Field Hollers: The Music of Supernatural Wife

Big Dance Theater Co-Director talks about the music in Supernatural Wife, in a discussion that runs the gamut from Carter Burwell, long-time film score collaborator with the Coen Brothers, to the Dirty Projectors.

Big Dance Theater Co-Director talks about the music in Supernatural Wife, in a discussion that runs the gamut from Carter Burwell, long-time film score collaborator with the Coen Brothers, to the Dirty Projectors.

Next