The Green Room: From on stage, back stage and the theater seats, the Performing Arts blog illuminates the intersecting worlds of dance, theater, and music.
I feel like I could read interviews with dancemaker/poet/musician/interdisciplinary artist Miguel Gutierrez all day (which I am doing to prepare for my Curator’s Interview with Miguel in a few days). He is so smart, soulful, unpretentious, and honest. Last year, Gutierrez was asked by Bay Area choreographer Jesse Hewit: “In general, how are you feeling about [...]
I feel like I could read interviews with dancemaker/poet/musician/interdisciplinary artist Miguel Gutierrez all day (which I am doing to prepare for my Curator’s Interview with Miguel in a few days). He is so smart, soulful, unpretentious, and honest.
Last year, Gutierrez was asked by Bay Area choreographer Jesse Hewit: “In general, how are you feeling about dance these days?”
“Great! Confused. Happy. Thrilled. Convinced it is the most perfect thing. Convinced of its irrelevancy. Subjugated by it. Liberated through it. Completely bored by it. Moved to tears a lot by it. Knowing, and sage-like even, at times in my viewing of it. Surprised by finding something new in it still. Frustrated that I don’t allow myself to do it more. Secretly convinced that it’s the best way to just figure it out. Content to walk arm in arm with its weirdness, its smallness, its privacy and naivete. Intrigued by everything I still don’t understand about it. Constantly gauging when I’m going to stop doing it.”
Glimpsing the segments of his large-scale new work And lose the name of action I’ve seen in development here at Walker the last two weeks, I think we will all be grateful he has not stopped doing it yet.
And lose the name of action opens this week (Sept 19-22) at Walker for its world premiere. See more info and buy tickets.
Photos: Chris Cameron
One of the joyous — and sometimes stressful — things about curating performance for the Walker is that our institution’s mission doesn’t just allow us to take artistic chances but actually requires us to do so. With a stated commitment to new artistic forms and work that pushes dance , performance or music in new directions, we [...]
One of the joyous — and sometimes stressful — things about curating performance for the Walker is that our institution’s mission doesn’t just allow us to take artistic chances but actually requires us to do so. With a stated commitment to new artistic forms and work that pushes dance , performance or music in new directions, we are often in the role of helping to translate and interpret work that might not always be easily to read on one’s own.
But sometimes we choose to focus this same impulse on innately more accessible and even commercial art forms, like the American musical or indie rock (for lack of a better term). The results can be just as surprising or as innovative as our work in experimental music or theater; it is just working within a different tradition.
Two and a half years ago, at the strong recommendation of former Walker Director Kathy Halbreich and visual artist Paul Chan, I carved out two hours at the insanely jam-packed Association for Performing Arts Presenters conference in New York to head to a small theater/club on the far west side called the Zipper Factory to catch a DIY music-theater work with the odd title of FUTURITY by a Brooklyn indie-folk/rock/Americana band named the Lisps. The music, the youthful spirit, the rabid fan/crowd response, the unlikely dense ideas embedded in the work, the moments of noise and musical chaos, even the poignant ending, all captured me and set me on a long journey of helping this band see its first theater work to the next level.
A flow of e-mails and various meetings and concert showings of the work unfolded and I agreed to have the Walker help commission the work’s further development. Neither of us knew exactly how we would get there, but Cesar Alvarez (leader of the Lisps) and I agreed that this work should be on the Walker’s 2011-2012 season.
As months turned into years, exciting things began to happen. Visionary, generous British born director Sarah Benson (and artistic director of Soho Rep in NYC) came on board to direct the work. Then American Repertory Theater (ART) in Cambridge, a semi-classic theater with an edge and adventurous spirit, joined in as lead producer. Just six months ago friend and remarkably creative choreographer/director Annie-B Parson (Big Dance Theatre) signed on to create the choreography. Many other talented people — writers, designers, stage managers, singers, performers — signed up or were hired by ART.
Six weeks ago, I flew out for the official press opening for FUTURITY, which now had such an unlikely cast of collaborators and institutional partners that it was written up nationally in American Theater magazine. It was a great leap of faith by ART, which applied its theater creation know-how to the inspired DIY civil war vaudvillians rock musicial. Now it has landed on our doorstep and Minnesotans only have three opportunities (April 26–28) to see it, before it continues what is sure to be a long future life.
After 24 hours of travel this February to Johannesburg (or “Jozi” as it was now called by locals), I landed in what looked like a transformed city, at least since my last visit in 2001. Meme, a young driver awaiting to shuttle me into town, said that South Africa’s hosting of the 2010 Soccer World [...]
After 24 hours of travel this February to Johannesburg (or “Jozi” as it was now called by locals), I landed in what looked like a transformed city, at least since my last visit in 2001. Meme, a young driver awaiting to shuttle me into town, said that South Africa’s hosting of the 2010 Soccer World Cup led to many new roads, upgraded buildings, and a city-wide cleanup. Clearly, she seemed optimistic about the future. After dropping off bags and getting a quick shower in a guest house in the “trendy” Melville neighborhood, it was off to the first of more than a dozen contemporary dance performances (including 23 different companies or choreographers) that I’d see in the coming week. Several purposes drove my journey: a key three-day meeting of the African Consortium, a group of nine U.S. based organizations (including the Walker) and six African affiliate artists or arts centers; the chance to attend the annual Dance Umbrella Festival, a diverse three-week showcase of South African new dance and performance; and an opportunity to independently seek out music, visual, or theatrical work and make connections with interesting local artists.
Driving over the trippy, multicolor, illuminated Mandela Bridge that first night, I was sleep-deprived but also re-energized, ready to throw myself into as much dance as I could and connect with African artists and colleagues. We arrived at the legendary Market Theater, in the heart of the city’s semi-redeveloped downtown arts district of Newtown. In many ways, the Market — famed as the theatrical “home of the struggle” in the ’70s and ’80s, where many works by Atold Fugard, William Kentridge, Mbongeni Ngema and others originated — remains a theatrical center of Johannesburg.
The festival started out strong, with a premiere by Gregory Maqoma, one of the acclaimed dance leaders here. His Exit/Exist is a dance-music reclamation of Black historical memory, a semi-abstract dance rumination on the renowned 19th century Xhosa chief Maqoma, a distant relative of the choreographer and a black hero of the “frontier wars,” a conflict which felt similar to American Indian-White settler conflagrations in our own history. While primarily a solo work, inclusion of projected text and visuals and live music by the South African a capella vocal quartet Complete and Italian fusion guitarist Giuliano Modarellies made its scale and ambition feel larger.
Finally catching up with the intense, fiercely committed movement work of Maqoma was something of a revelation. The post-show interview by the grand dame of South African dance critics, Adrian Sichel, ended with a Xhosa audience member, another of Chief Maquoma’s distant relatives, giving a moving testimonial about how just a few months earlier he’d organized a rescue and reburial of Chief Maquoma’s remains from Robben Island (where he had died in prison). A few days later, Gregory explained to me how little of the pre-European history had been taught in schools: “We had basically been taught that history began with the arrivals of the Dutch.” This would not be the first time in the coming days that I felt how fresh and bitter land-rights issues remain here.
Sunday gave me polar-opposite dance experiences: a morning witnessing more than a dozen youth ensembles performing short works with simple, often naïve choreography, but also performed with great heart, joy, and often breathtaking physicality — a sheer pleasure. The evening was spent with the nearly three-hour raw, site-specific work Qaphela Caesar by Durban’s Jay Pather (head of the Performance Studies department at University of Cape Town), which extended throughout the deserted offices, halls, and the trading floor of the abandoned Stock Exchange in downtown Johannesburg. Beginning with a walk-through of six rooms of living installations in empty ’70s-era offices, the expansive performance spectacle shifted seating and viewing perspectives at least six more times, even after it got down into the very odd, film-set-like, deserted old stock market trading floor. The sprawling work included a teenage Afrikaner punk band, free glasses of wine, a live exotic dancer, choral song, recorded music, videos of anti-apartheid rallies, and more. Many scenes were visually and aurally powerful, and the ensemble cast was strong. The echoes of collapsed economic power were resonant throughout the space during the two hour-plus South African riff on Shakespeare’s power play.
The next day, spent traveling through the historically important black township of Soweto on the outskirts of Joburg, was alternatingly fascinating, infuriating, and inspiring — if nothing else, it felt essential to understanding the context of so much here. Black residents were forcibly removed (dumped?) here throughout much of the 20th century by both the British and Dutch apartheid regimes. This sprawling settlement, with a population of at least 1.5 million (locals insist it’s more like four million), now sports recently opened parks as well as shrines to the anti-apartheid struggle, including Nelson Mandela’s modest home and the Hector Pieterson Memorial and Museum, named after the 13-year old who was shot and killed by police during the ’76 Soweto uprising. These stand in stark contrast to the still-remaining sprawling shanty towns like Motsoaledi, which despite deep poverty seems to retain a strong spirit and sense of self-organization — collective day care, mini-play areas, small gardens, even makeshift driveways for the few who are able to afford cars. But there’s also no running water in homes, unpaved dirt paths, fragile-looking shanty homes. Many new larger housing units have been built to replace migrant worker hostels, but we passed long stretches of them sitting empty due, I’m told, to bureaucratic delays. People we met seemed remarkably resourceful and even hopeful, but the entire day served as a visceral damnation of the apartheid system and the entrenched inequities and humiliations that continue today and, likely, will continue long into the future.
In six days, one can only begin to untangle dense layers of history, racial and economic dynamics, post-colonial and, more important, post-apartheid challenges still facing the country. I was reminded at many turns that there are 11 African tribal languages spoken here, in addition to English and Afrikaans. Aside from the Black tribal-affiliated populations (the largest being Khosa and Zulu), there are white, Indian, Colored (mixed race), and, at the bottom of the economic ladder, diverse African immigrant communities.
The seeming danger and intensity of urban Johannesburg feels like it has softened considerably in 11 years, yet as a (white) visitor from the West, it is not the easiest city to navigate. With streets in many areas still considered unsafe to walk in, at least at night, one has to depend on prearranging rides or on the rare appearance of “maxi taxis,” making spontaneous travel difficult.
Nonetheless, I saw 23 contemporary dance works spread across 12 programs in six different venues. A few things were clear: the interest and energy around contemporary dance has only grown in recent years, while the infrastructures in place remain as challenged as ever, particularly around the lack of what we think of as presenters or performing art curators who are actively helping artists develop and offer their work to the public and direct necessary support for artists. For the handful of the most prominent artists, European (or occasional Asian) commissions help pay them to be able to present their work here, essentially self-producing. An exception is, of course, the Dance Umbrella Festival and, while the relationship between the Festival and many of area artists seemed a bit strained, it at least continues to offer a rare platform.
There was a lot of uneven work, but that’s not unusual for a festival focused exclusively on its own national dance scene (as opposed to a more international orientation). While powerful, often virtuosic physical dancing was very strong, sometimes amazingly so, the choreographic ideas didn’t feel like they were breaking a lot of new ground. Many artists locally concurred: they discussed the need for outside stimulus, choreographic training programs, and exchanges.
Other performance highlights of the week included: Neli Xeba’s Angels and Uncles, a sophisticated feminist performance solo plus live video manipulation that interrogated the Reed Dance, a traditional celebration of virgin girls which has made a revival in the age of AIDs; Inter.fear by Johannesburg dancer Athena Mazarak and Barcelonan Hansel Nezza (about states of fear and paranoia); and Boyzie Chekwana’s intriguing but opaque three-minute performance work (part of his Influx Controls trilogy, which he characterized as just a starting sketch of some new ideas). Robyn Orlin’s work provoked the most discussion and debate, both about its highly stylized and elaborately anarchic, extremely well produced slapstick performance art, and its racial underpinnings, which, depending on one’s point of view, was either boldly courageous or racially/historically insensitive. Other artists showing intriguing aspects of their work included Alfred Hinkel, choreographer/dancer Otto Andile Nhlapo (from the major feeder company Moving Into Dance), and PJ Sabbagha.
One of the big disappointments was not being able to access more live music. The music scene in Johannesburg seems to have shrunk, with the ascendance of South African House (primarily DJ-based) music fully overtaking Kwaito (black South African Rap/hip hop) as the dominant form. A few jazz and reggae clubs are open on Friday and Saturday nights, but my sense is they’re not breaking much new ground and primarily serve an older audience.
By midweek I had befriended Thando Lobese, a 20-something award-winning costume designer from the Market Theatre, who was willing to connect me with some other artist and musician friends that she felt were right for the Walker’s interest. Thando along with Nomvula Molepo (Market Theatre’s resident lighting designer) drove me to the upscale neighborhood of Bramley to attend a rehearsal of the indie-Afro-futuristic rock/performance collective The Brother Moves On, made up of five accomplished musicians and three performance artists. A mix of blacks, whites, and artists of Indian descent, the playfulness and DIY aesthetic was infectious, and I only wished I could have seen them in full performance, like the one scheduled for a few days after my departure. Still, it felt good to music/performance that felt young, fresh, and fearless.
The next day, Thando and young theater director/writer Princess Zinzi Mhlongo and I went to the hip hop club Kitcheners for an art opening for pioneering graffiti artist Themba “Dreader” Malaza and a host of DJ’s, rappers, and young graf artists who were painting out in the courtyard of the sprawling club: homemade beer, lots of interesting artists, administrators and producers, good (again only DJ-based) music. We left at 2:15 am with the club/opening in full swing.
On my final day, I escaped town with Laura Faure, director of the Bates Dance Festival; Neli Xaba; Memella Nyamza; and Makgati Molebatsi (who is on the board of the Bag Factory visual artist residency center) and a few others to drive an hour into the country to visit the The Cradle of Humankind site, which lies mainly in the Gauteng province.
The seven members of the U.S. Consortium there met for two long meetings over three days, joined by three of affiliate artists from South Africa and written updates from four others from Mozambique, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Kenya, and as well as much discussion of associated artists and organizations from West and North Africa. The consortium was continuing to plan the latest in its ongoing efforts around building deeper relationships between performing art scenes in U.S. and Africa. Plans were discussed on how or whether to expand the network, how to encourage more U.S.-African choreographic or performance collaborations (versus. touring and educational exchanges), where new funding might come from in the U.S., how to help influence/support arts organizations small and large to support artists and the development of new work, and how the work of this nine-year-old consortium might continue to develop and thrive, despite limited arts resources on both sides of the U.S. African divide.
Amadou’s blues-infused Malian electric guitar playing is inventive and infectious; Mariam’s seemingly effortless singing, often skittering above or weaving around and then right in stride with Amadou’s deep voice, grabs your attention immediately. But most impressive is their openness to new sounds from all over, which has helped them redefine 21st Century African music.
After a decade of trying, I nearly gave up on bringing Mali’s Amadou & Mariam to the Twin Cities. Over the years, Rob Simmonds at the Cedar Cultural Center and I have tried to cook up many efforts, looking into possibilities for large venues at the University of Minnesota, outdoor events like Rock the Garden, or shows at First Avenue or in one of the historic theaters on Hennepin. For one reason or another, it just never seemed to work out. The worldwide demand for the blind husband-and-wife team, the gracefully cool blues/Malian rockers, just seemed to make a tour of the Midwest less and less likely.
But stars have aligned, and three organizations—the Cedar, Sue McLean Presents and the Walker–join forces to finally bring the duo our way this coming August 7. It’s sure to be one of the great nights of international music of the year in the Twin Cities.
So what drove the last decade’s worth of effort? First they’re personal heroes of mine. Then the music: Amadou’s blues-infused Malian electric guitar playing is inventive and infectious; Mariam’s seemingly effortless singing, often skittering above or weaving around and then right in stride with Amadou’s deep voice, grabs your attention immediately. But most impressive is their openness to new sounds from all over, which has helped them redefine 21st Century African music. American R&B, Cuban Son, Egyptian and Syrian traditional music, Euro electronica, Puerto Rican Salsa, and tabla-based Hindustani music can all be heard in their recent recordings. But it never even hints at the kind of forced fusion we sometimes heard in an earlier era of world music; it seems to simply define who they are. After all, as Amadou mentioned in a very good recent Songlines article, his earliest influences were Hendrix, Cuban music, and John Lee Hooker. African music of an information age.
I also think it’s cool that they met and fell in love more than 35 years ago (at the National Institute for the Young Blind in Mali), got married and had three kids (one of whom now leads the Malian hip hop group S.M.O.D.), and have been touring the world since. Their gigs, which began in small clubs in Bamako and then Paris, are now held at events like the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize Concert, the opening ceremony of the FIFA World Cup Championship in South Africa, and huge rock festivals like Glastonbury and Lollapolooza.
Their new Nonesuch recording Folila (out in March) reflects the couple’s ever-expanding range of influences and collaborators, featuring guest turns by TV on the Radio; Nick Zinner of the Yeah, Yeah Yeahs; Theophilus London, and Bassekou Kouyate. Check out their collaboration with Santigold from the record, the first cut to be released.
Come August, I can’t wait to welcome Amadou & Mariam, at long last, to Minnesota.
Note: If you’re a Walker member, don’t miss out – special window to buy your tickets now, before they go on sale to the general public on Friday, February 10.
Gob Squad is the hit of New York’s Under the Radar Festival! I just returned home today from the exhausting, and sometimes exhilarating Association for Performing Arts Presenters (APAP) conference in New York, which now umbrellas four simultaneous performance/dance festivals, hundreds (maybe thousands) of showcase performances alongside dozens of panels, meetings, gatherings, and on the [...]
I just returned home today from the exhausting, and sometimes exhilarating Association for Performing Arts Presenters (APAP) conference in New York, which now umbrellas four simultaneous performance/dance festivals, hundreds (maybe thousands) of showcase performances alongside dozens of panels, meetings, gatherings, and on the fly conversations with artists.
Within an hour of arriving there last Friday, three colleagues all stopped to tell me the same thing, Gob Squad’s Kitchen (you never had it so good) was the must see event. This mantra continued unabated over the next four days…of course these folks didn’t realize the show was already coming this week to the Walker.
The Walker first introduced the work of Gob Squad to Minnesota more than a decade ago. I travelled to Stockholm nearly two years ago specifically to see Gob Squad’s Kitchen, was totally knocked out by it, and I have been working on bringing the show to Minneapolis since then. Mark Russell, good friend and brilliant producer of Under the Radar Festival in New York, is also a fan of Gob Squad’s and didn’t have the chance to see this latest piece live. And, remarkably enough, Gob Squad had never yet shown their work in New York. I am grateful Mark trusted in my enthusiasm around the piece and was thrilled that it was such a hit with presenters and the public alike.
If you’re interested in new performance, theater, contemporary art and ideas, and of course all things Warhol – or, if you just want to have a great time in the theater – you owe it to yourself to see this unique, smart, joyous show.
Here is New York’s Culturebot review that I think captures it perfectly:
“If there’s one show that’s already played over the last week that’s generated real buzz, it’s Gob Squad. Pretty much everyone I’ve talked with has had nothing but praise for the London-Berlin based company’s take on Warhol’s filmic work…” Click here to read more.
I look forward to seeing you in Gob Squad’s KITCHEN this weekend!
- Philip Bither, Walker’s Senior Curator of Performing Arts
Click here for tickets to this weeks performance running Jan 13th-15th.
Renaissance man; band leader of multiple great groups; astute follower of fashion, design, architecture and active collector of visual art; tour de force solo pianist; forward-thinking composer; self-directed jazz historian and good friend of the Walker, Jason Moran was just awarded the coveted MacArthur “Genius” Award. Moran has performed at the Walker five times, in [...]
Renaissance man; band leader of multiple great groups; astute follower of fashion, design, architecture and active collector of visual art; tour de force solo pianist; forward-thinking composer; self-directed jazz historian and good friend of the Walker, Jason Moran was just awarded the coveted MacArthur “Genius” Award.
Moran has performed at the Walker five times, in a wide variety of contexts, since 2001. One was a stunning music-video theatrical concert called Milestone (involving collaborative compositions with conceptual artist Adrian Piper), a moving farewell solo for ex-Walker director Kathy Halbreich, a brilliant large group post-modern tribute to Thelonious Monk, and unique collaborations with Greg Osby and Sam Rivers. He was not only one of the few performing artists to receive a MacArthur Award this year, but he was also one of the youngest. Congrats to Jason for this much deserved honor!
Last week I returned from a nine-day research trip to Indonesia—an incredibly rich, transformative experience with a jam-packed itinerary. I was one of 10 performing arts presenters, funders or organizers from the U.S. who traveled there to witness dozens of performances, both traditional and contemporary, and meet with artists and arts organizations. Organized by the [...]
Last week I returned from a nine-day research trip to Indonesia—an incredibly rich, transformative experience with a jam-packed itinerary. I was one of 10 performing arts presenters, funders or organizers from the U.S. who traveled there to witness dozens of performances, both traditional and contemporary, and meet with artists and arts organizations. Organized by the Asia Society (New York), the New England Foundation for the Arts (Boston), and the Kelola Foundation (Jakarta), the tour was as much about cultural exchange and the breaking down of misconceptions (on both U.S. and Indonesian sides) as it was an investigation into new artists and new forms. Asia Society’s Rachel Cooper, a trusted friend and colleague and an expert in Indonesia’s music and dance, was our expert guide.
A diverse, inspiring, sprawling country, Indonesia is more than 17, 000 islands spread over thousands of miles. So in traveling to Jakarta, Surakarta (Solo), Yogyakarta (Jogja) and Ubud, Bali, we only saw one sliver of it, but these places are viewed as something of a cultural corridor, if you will. (Ubud is home to Cudamani, who performed at the Walker last fall in collaboration with Ragamala Dance.) I had been planning my own research trip to this country, not just because of the vibrant arts presence, but also the remarkable conversation happening between traditional and contemporary work, and the fascinating, sometimes volatile mix of what Indonesia is today: Muslim and Hindu (and many other faiths), simultaneously traditional and post-modern, rural and urban.
Indonesia has layers of complex nuanced history, with wildly distinct regional differences but also unifying national elements. Both Bali and Java are noted for classical dance and gamelan traditions, so to witness firsthand the distinct differences between these approaches was fascinating. Beyond the stunning cultural traditions thousands of years old, we got a sense of how many artists are experimenting with contemporary dance, music and performance, making work that often draws deeply from the country’s rich traditions – and sometimes works consciously in opposition to them.
Yet the people of Java and Bali are, of course, also negotiating the realities of 21st-century urban life, one filled with millions of Facebook users, cell phones, pop and hip hop music, video downloads – and contemporary artists are incorporating these elements or their influences into their work. Each of the four cities I visited had seemingly vital scenes with young performers sharing their work with each other and their communities, people making new things without a lot of financial resources. One afternoon in Solo, we saw five contemporary dance artists each show us 20 minutes of their works, and our sense was that this was only a fraction of artists making new dance in Solo. Overall, we saw about 40 ensembles, from youth gamelan orchestras to experimental performance artists, to royal court classical dance to a kind of street theater done in a radical way (on a stage) for primarily young audiences. In addition, we were meeting with cultural organizations, new galleries and performance spaces, many of which had only started in last five years.
Being in each city for only one or two days was kind of heartbreaking; just as we were starting to grasp a feel for a place—the smell and sounds, the local concerns and cultural structures—we had to move on. It’s not just the art we saw, but the architecture and food, the homes and streetlife, that gave us the context to really feel rather than just watch or analyze the culture from the outside. Wherever we went, even where it seemed people were struggling financially, we were presented with full plates of food and drinks and warm welcomes—there seemed to be such a sincere and deeply rooted generosity and graciousness built into the national character. The trip was just another reminder of how essential it is for curators and programmers to travel and spend time in the countries that they plan to actively present work from; it offers a whole different view of artists and their work that you don’t get at international festivals. Granted, eight days was all too short for a country like Indonesia, but it was a good start, an introduction to draw on for the future.
Another striking thing was the amount of interest in and awareness of the U.S. there seemed to be – not just because we were visiting just weeks before President Obama’s visit. Many people wanted to know what Americans think of Indonesia and its people. There was a great deal of appreciation, and surprise, that ten arts leaders from the U.S. would take the time to come and learn a small amount about the arts in Indonesia; several major publications, including The Jakarta Post, the largest English language paper in Indonesia, interviewed us and followed each step of our trip. Indonesia is clearly interested in being seen, understood, and considered an important part art of the global arts community.
Photos courtesy fellow traveler Margaret Lawrence, director of programming at Dartmouth College’s Hopkins Center.
Three of Brazil’s most fascinating, multi-talented and innovative musicians are coming our way for a rare concert at Cedar Cultural Center Thursday, December 11, co-presented by the Walker. It’s a concert that, as unlikely as it sounds, will appeal to fans of classic Brazilian music, electronica, indie rock, global pop and combinations of all four, [...]
Three of Brazil’s most fascinating, multi-talented and innovative musicians are coming our way for a rare concert at Cedar Cultural Center Thursday, December 11, co-presented by the Walker. It’s a concert that, as unlikely as it sounds, will appeal to fans of classic Brazilian music, electronica, indie rock, global pop and combinations of all four, it promises to be one of the season’s musical highlights in the Twin Cities and I don’t want you to miss it.
In 2000, Moreno Veloso (son of pioneering Brazilian composer/singer Caetano Veloso, one of the creators of Tropicália movement in the 60s) released his own first recording in Brazil called Music Typewriter. Word started to spread to the States about this fantastic release and a few years later it was released it in the U.S. to great acclaim (“…An original, deeply affecting sound….taking cues from genre masters while delicately incorporating modern touches…” JazzTimes; “If Brazil continues to produce albums as delicate and emotionally complex as Music Typewriter, that country’s music will occupy as honored a place in the 21st century as it did in the 20th.” – Time Magazine).
I am generally suspicious when it comes the talents of children of famous musicians, but once I heard Music Typewriter all reservations melted away. Moreno clearly had his own sound and vision. In early 2002, Moreno + 2 were organizing their first U.S. tour and I jumped at the chance for the Walker to present them. The resulting concert which filled the old Walker Auditorium on March 2, 2003 was as beguiling and charming as it was inventive and unpredictable. Here was a band who’s unique mix of samba, bossa nova and other regional Brazilian styles fused effortlessly with infectious electronic beats, loops, and experimental effects, creating what critics saw as “the sound of New Brazil” — idiosyncratic yet seductive, Brazilian music that somehow seemed to simultaneously embrace past, present, and future. Here’s what the Chicago Sun Times wrote about that first tour:
In a music world saturated with manufactured (music) events, it’s easy to become jaded. But then along comes a band like Moreno Veloso + 2 to prove why music still matters. The Brazilian trio….delivered the kind of show that had a history-in- the-making impact. In years hence, after Veloso and company have gone on to join the ranks of world-music superstars, the lucky crowd can claim “we saw them first” bragging rights.
Music Typewriter launched what is today a Brazilian superstar trio, which included not just Veloso, but also Domenico Lancellotti and Alexandre Kassin. All three are prominent, highly respected composers, producers, multi-instrumentalists and members of multiple bands. They so enjoyed working together on Music Typewriter, the trio decided to release a trilogy of records, one under each of their names. Domenico +2’s Sincerely Hot from 2004 was more experimental and electronic, but an equally fascinating record released on David Byrne’s intrepid Luaka Bop label (“Innately creative and defiantly adventurous, they are concerned only with hurling their talents together and stamping new identities onto Brazilian music.” —Global Rhythm Magazine).
The Walker was all set to present the trio again on its next tour in March 2006 but a failed airline sponsorship and other challenges that seem to bedevil Brazilian artists getting to the States forced a rare cancellation for the Walker. That didn’t however, lessen my total admiration of what these three artists were now regularly cooking up together. For instance, late last year, the +2’s third release came out – this one called Futurisimo under the name Kassin + 2. It was met with acclaim that might have even outstripped the first two: “an effervescent collage of samba, airy folk, and sheer mysticism” SPIN.
Let one of Brazil’s most exciting new groups warm up your December by heading down to the Cedar on Thursday, December 11 for what promises to be an unforgettable night of music.
Look forward to seeing you at Veloso, Domenico and Kassin at the Cedar on December 11th.
“The Sound and the Fury (April Seventh, 1928)” at New York Theater Workshop features, in foreground, Susie Sokol and Vin Knight. Photo by: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times I was so pleased to wake up this morning and read Chief New York Times Theater Critic Ben Brantley’s rave review of our friends Elevator Repair Service’s [...]
“The Sound and the Fury (April Seventh, 1928)” at New York Theater Workshop features, in foreground, Susie Sokol and Vin Knight. Photo by: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times
I was so pleased to wake up this morning and read Chief New York Times Theater Critic Ben Brantley’s rave review of our friends Elevator Repair Service’s production of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury (April 7, 1928). The Walker has long been in ERS’s corner, ever since I first saw their deliciously ridiculous Cab Legs at PS122 in 1998. On their first Minneapolis visit, we presented their odd-ball, ecstatic Total Fictional Lie as part of Walker’s 2000 Out There series. They returned with Room Tone (2003 Out There) and, most recently, we co-commissioned their audacious, every-word-of-the-novel marathon production of The Great Gatsby (GATZ) ,which received its U.S. debut here in September 2006.
Rights issues with the Fitzgerald estate have tragically not allowed the brilliant GATZ to yet be seen in New York City, but a year after the Walker introduced the work to the U.S., it did successfully tour to cities like Portland OR (at PICA’s TBA Festival), Philadelphia (at the Philly Live Art Fest.) and Seattle (On The Boards). So, it’s a bit irritating that both Brantley and Justin Bergman (who wrote an ERS preview last Sunday in the Times) seem oblivious to the fact that GATZ ever came to the U.S. at all (“ the famously venturesome Elevator Repair Service” wrote Brantley “ …toured Europe with a seven-hour rendering of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “ Great Gatsby” …).
While Brantley and Bergman maintained the Times’ long-standing New York parochialism (assuming nothing of cultural interest takes place West of the Hudson), Brantley did do a nice job of articulating the steep challenge that director John Collins and ERS set up for themselves in taking on the notoriously dense and, at first read, confusing, first section of The Sound and Fury, which is told from the point of view Benjy Compson, a 33-year old mentally disabled man. “ Trying to translate this perspective from the page to the stage would seem to be an act of folly and hubris,” wrote Brantley… “ Benjy’s nonlinear, noninterpretive point of view has been the bane of uninitiated English students for decades. But reading this account of a Mississippi family’s decline is like looking at an impressionistic painting that at first seems to lack discernible forms, but stare long enough, and details emerge so precisely that it’s finally sharper than any photograph….”. In the end, the company’s rigor and ingenuity wins over Brantley completely – “ (ERS) brings a sanity, humility and theatrical ingenuity to their interpretation that, like the novel, illuminates the clarity within apparent chaos.”
Congratulations again to director John Collins all our friends at ERS. I can’t wait to catch up with the production (and all of our ERS pals) on my next trip to New York in mid-May.
I just returned from New York where it seemed everyone involved in modern dance or contemporary art was talking (or perhaps “ raving” is more accurate) about the Jérme Bel project that won over full houses at Dance Theater Workshop and was the unanimous critical hit of the Performa ’07 visual art-performance festival. In last [...]
I just returned from New York where it seemed everyone involved in modern dance or contemporary art was talking (or perhaps “ raving” is more accurate) about the Jérme Bel project that won over full houses at Dance Theater Workshop and was the unanimous critical hit of the Performa ’07 visual art-performance festival. In last Friday’s New York Times Jennifer Dunning called Jérme Bel and Pichet Klunchun’s performance “ funny, touching and provocative… (which) says a great deal about the subtleties of skilled performing and the nature of dance.” She went on “ the fascination of the must-see Pichet Klunchun and Myself should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with Mr. Bel’s career” (full review below.)
Alas, this difficult-to-describe (or at least difficult-to-make-interesting-sounding) show has not yet fully found its audience and I am afraid it will come and go quickly and many will regret not making a point to come. The piece speaks directly to our artistic times, turning a seemingly simple exchange into an illumination of issues spanning globalization, conceptual art, cross-cultural understanding, post-modern dance, the place of tradition in artistic practice and other key subjects. And, Jérme and Pichet do all this in the most witty, sometimes moving, often beguiling ways.
I think the work also helps illuminate where contemporary dance, performance work and even conceptual visual art practice has been heading in recent years. In other words, seeing this work I think helps one gain a different kind of understanding around other artists also coming to the Walker – from Miguel Gutierrez (opening Out There) to Romeo Castellucci, from Tino Sehgal (exhibition opens in December) to Back to Back Theater (June ’08).
I recently scanned reviews and on-line comments from other international cities (the piece is only making three stops in America) where this two-year old work has toured and could not find a single negative response. One critic picked it as her favorite show of the massive 2006 Melbourne Festival (involving scores of remarkable projects). Another, a guy writing on the “ countercritic” web site was perhaps my favorite. He began by summing up how many people probably felt when they read descriptions of the work before seeing it:
“ When I walked into the theater and I saw two chairs facing each other, separated by about 20 feet, two bottles of water and a laptop, I was sure this was going to be an utter disaster, a pretentious piece of shit, and something unduly excruciating that I would not be able to escape…” Instead, he says he found “ an altogether mesmerizing and soul-filling experience…It’s also very entertaining, and it communicates massive amounts of information, in a way that works of art cannot always communicate on their own. This is art about art. Dance about dance. And, mainly, its about today.” click here to read the rest of this thoughtful review.
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