DV8

I had the pleasure of seeing "To Be Straight With You", a piece by the UK based dance theater group DV8. The piece is about homosexual oppression, across the world, but mainly centered in Islamic and fundamentalist Christian countries. It’s true documentary theater; all text came from interviews. It was beautifully done, though I had a couple of moments where I wanted a little more.

The movement was fantastic. One actor did a monologue as a 15 year old muslim boy who was kicked out of his home for being gay. He did the entire thing while jumping rope. The same actor did a monologue of a man explaining his dual life, with a wife and a male lover, while doing intense Bollywood style dance to Shakira –and at one point joined by a man doing the same dance behind him, mirroring him. Not without humor. What blows me away is the acting skill of all the performers while dancing. It is movement, but some of it is just straight out dance. The more static moments of straight theater actually felt a little less effective to me.

It feels odd being critical of this at all, since the subject matter is so serious and pressing. It’s apparent there is a growing Muslim community in the UK, as well as a Jamaican and native Christian community that can be very violent. They address the Buju Banton “murder music”, projecting translations of the lyrics calling for gay men to be burned and killed. Those are heart-stopping. The stories of violence, oppression, and death seem endless, coupled with never-ending hate speech. One segment that sticks with me is a performer speaking the words of an imam talking about reconciling his religion and sexuality and the community difficulties while reacting suddenly from invisible forces bearing down on him and surprising him from all sides. Fear.

The projections used are incredible. There is a spinning globe which a performer uses to highlight different countries and modes of punishment. One man explains his many lives as father, husband, imam, and gay man while walking through borders of a comic book. Two women tell there stories, completely drawn and illustrated but for hands and faces.

The performers are beyond skilled, the movement is wonderful. There were a lot of moments, with the movement itself, where I was astounded they were doing what they were doing.

I would say, as a US viewer, some of the dialects were challenging to understand. And from where we were some of the sound was muddy, but that's probably the hall we were in.

One of the criticisms I have is that the women were underutilized (one astounding sequence had a woman with her arms bent at the elbows, spinning and doing Chaîné turns in an oval shape for about two minutes while speaking the words of a 70-year old rabbi saying “I’m very tired”). The women I was with mentioned it often felt like this in pieces generated by gay men, and I imagine it’s that and just the invisibility in general—in some ways it speaks even more to the oppression.

The other thing I felt was that it was a documentary without a form - I didn’t know what the point or the focus was. It had segments, but no overall form, and was an exploration of issues only by accident, not by shape. There were a lot of issues raised from the breadth of the interviews, but since this touched on so many (violence, rape, misogyny, religion) it almost felt diffuse. You could do an entire show about the murder music in Jamaica and men being stoned to death; on women in Africa and sexual oppression; on the double lives of Muslim men; on the growing Muslim community in the UK and intolerance; on closeted gay men beating other gay men out of self hatred (in one heartbreaking scene a man has gone to prison for 4 ½ years for assault on gay men and only once out of prison can he admit he’s gay). So I know it’s probably an impossibility to focus it, but it felt a little like one awful injustice after another. Yes, people were safer in the UK and had asylum, but there is still the brokenness and disappointment. It’s quite intense. The focus, if there was one, was on religious persecution being the base.

I also wanted more physical connection. The women held hands, the men barely touched. Perhaps they’re known for that and wanted to depart? I don’t know, but I do know it would have added a level to have actual physical intimacy on stage. Not only to affirm gay/lesbian desire/affection/eroticism, but perhaps to point out the audience’s own discomfort (if they had it) to gay/lesbian affection and desire. And for a production that had no problem illustrating violence, it seemed squeamish about desire. Maybe like our culture--violence is fine, sex is to a point, but affection is odd and threatening.

Which leads me to the big question— what is this for and will people see this who need to? At least in LA, in a theater that was nowhere near close to sold out, it felt like preaching to the converted. I hope that when it toured in the UK it was seen in schools. The other thing that might have helped would have been more information on how to help. What to do. One prominent activist is interviewed speaking about how he has been harassed and threatened with death. It’s obvious this is life-threatening. I would have thought there would have been a website or instructions on what action could be taken. Maybe that’s just me, but if we’re just watching it, and doing nothing about it, while clucking our tongues, who does that help?

For me, I realized that the company I work for does business with countries where I would be jailed, imprisoned, or put to death. That was disturbing for me to think about. I need my job. I’m sure much of this is coming about now that we are a global culture. Like it or not, we are all connected. And some of this is finding out maybe you don’t necessarily want to be connected. I haven’t figured it out.

I guess I got gratitude for the freedoms we have here, and knowledge of just how precious they are, and how different it is in the UK right now. We’re protected from a lot, I think. And I was reminded of the power of theatre, and why I fell in love with doing it in the first place.

I hope to hell we can keep our freedoms. If nothing else this reminds me of all we have, and why we fight so hard.

Here’s a trailer for the show:



I couldn’t find sequences online, but I did find Dead Dreams of Monochrome Men a film DV8 did from the late eighties. I guess the whole film is loaded on youbtube. Handy

La Danse

One of my favorite movies of recent years is Tout près des étoiles: Les danseurs de l'Opéra de Paris, a wonderful 2001 documentary about the Paris Opera Ballet. I love it. I saw it twice in the theatre (the dinky Cinema Village in NY), and have seen it on DVD several times. I have a wierd obsession with dance movies, most specifically ballet. I don't know why, and really, why analyze it? The movement is spectacular, and I probably like the military regimen in the service of art. And, frankly, it's astounding what these people can do. And, I do love the Red Shoes - here you can read my hero-worship.

So, I'm basically completely stoked about the new three hour documentary on the Opera Ballet, Frederick Wiseman'sLa Danse, The Paris Opera Ballet. 3 solid hours of watching technically accomplished performers do what they love and talk about it. Heaven.

Here's the trailer

Poetry

Feel like posting something, so I'll share that I submitted 4 poems to Poetry Magazine. Not expecting much--I don't read a lot of contemporary poetry and much of what I read I don't find interesting--but just the action was nice. Once they're (or I should say if) they're rejected, I'll post them.

It's so easy to submit things on line now. Crazy.

Smackdown '56

Check me out over at the 1956 Supporting Actress Smackdown. Really interesting year, and some movies I'd never seen, like The Bad Seed.

Just saw Michael Jackson's This is It. Not sure I needed to, now that I've seen it. I was told by a lot of people how great it was, and it is, to watch the rehearsals--but I've never been a huge fan. It's clear how talented he is, and how many people are devoted to him, but it's more interesting for me as a look at a talented artist, hero worship, and just how sad the whole thing is. I'm sad for him and his family, but also for all the dancers and musicians who were living out this dream and never got to perform it. It was a rehearsal of the concert, and you realize how thrilling it would have been for all involved. It also struck me how much he lived in fantasy seemingly, even his final song was about a love that saves him and how wonderful it is. By all accounts, though, it was something he never found. Sad story.

I've seem some other stuff, but between play rehearsals and work, I've not been finding the time to write. So, I'll make a point to do that. The one thing I have in my head is sadly getting larger and larger. I'll see if I can get it down and trim it a bit.

Happy reading!

11:11

Today it’s 11:11. Since I first heard the Rufus Wainwright song "11:11”, I’ve been asking myself when I see that particular time if I’m where I want to be. Kind of a loaded question to ask, but I’ve found myself asking it in my car and at work a great deal. This is not my soul-searching blog (for the most part), but I’ll share that it’s surprising how many times I've seen the clock at 11:11 since then--some periods twice a day. So I have many opportunities to ask myself if I’m satisfied, breathing, grateful. And, if not, what I can do to get there. I have no idea why that started, but I heard the song, and it did.

I’ve heard that he wrote this about 9:11, and that’s pretty clear, and that 11:11 looks like twin towers. Am I wrong in seeing it as hopeful? It feels like it's about gratitude and grief at the same time--no easy feat. No matter, I love the song, and wild how these little superstitions, reminders, can become part of your day. Mine, at least. I am a creature of art, can’t help it. And OCD.

And side note, which makes me laugh--"holding a notion of you" on a couple of sites was "loading a dump truck of human", which definitely makes the song more bleak. If incorrect. Ah, Rufus--diction's not his thing.



"11:11"

Woke up this morning at 11:11
Wasn't in Portand and I wasn't in heaven
Could have been either by the way I was feeling
But I was alive, I was alive
Woke up this morning at 11:11
John was half-naked and Lulu was crying
Over a baby that will never go crazy
And I was alive and kicking

Through this cruel world
Holding a notion of you at 11:11
Tell me what else can I do
What else can I do?

Woke up this morning and something was burning
Realized that everything really does happen in Manhattan
Thoughts were of characters and afternoons lying
And you, you were alive

Oh the hours we are separate
11:11 is just precious time we've wasted
So patch up your bleeding hearts
And put away your posies
I'm gonna have a drink
Before we ring around the rosies with you
Oh the hours we are separate
Oh the hours we are separate
11:11

A must read, and stuff

Passing along this inspiring blog entry about a kid who did something amazing with an upsetting illness. Thank you, Patrick for writing it.

Still germinating thoughts about A Serious Man, so hopefully something on that soon.

Talked with my amazing 90 year old Grandma about life, the above movie, Judaism, depression, and keeping up spirits. I'm so lucky she's in my life.

And saw the LA Derby Dolls on Saturday night. The Fight Crew, the team I was rooting for, won. Shannon is an excellent team captain, and big shout out to Bill, her husband, who wore a lobster costume with an leather aviator helmet and sunglasses to be their mascot. There wasn't a time he wasn't moving and getting the crowd riled up. He even wrestled with Bacon, the other team's mascot. Bacon and Lobster roll. Entertaining. Who knew roller derby was such a blast? Then again, what's not to love about a group of adults playing sports with drag names? Amber Alert was super tough (as were Haught Wheels, Broadzilla, Paris Killton and Tara Armov), and I loved the scrappy Judy Gloom, complete with horn rims. Referees included Ofelia Melons and Oliver Clothesoff. Good times.

Book Swap

I supposed I must've just needed an isolatory weekend on some level, so that's what I did. And on Saturday afternoon, I went to Vroman's (met a friend who wanted to get rid of some books, too), and went to a book swap hosted by Good Read's and Vroman's in Pasadena.

What a dangerous thing for uncluttering streamliners like myself. Ha. This is to get rid of the books you don't want, and get new ones. But, like one guy I talked to, I got as many at least as I turned in (myabe 1or 2 less, so that's a start). He told me when he went to the last one at Book Soup, he brought six books and left with 40. I have to say, it was kind of fun to see people in this much of a frenzy about books. I was one of the first people, and there weren't many people there, so I thought it would be kind of lame. Within 20 minutes, there were more books than you would know what to do with. There was a lot of crap, but also some things that I've wanted to read. And what's one person's trash is another's treasure, which is what was wonderful about this event. It was also fun to see such a large group of people just looking at books and looking to see what other people were holdling. It was slightly social, with people commenting on books they'd read and telling you if it was good; also fun with people pointing out "That's mine" or "I brought that one." It was fun, and I hear they're going to try to have one a few times a year.

So I got:

American Sucker, David Denby's memoir about losing money in the market crash, the dissolution of his marriage and his internet addiction. Denby can irritate me, but I thought I'd give it a try. And the guy I thought was attractive was the one who donated it. He said he liked it. This, though, not being a Jane Austen novel, did not lead anywhere. Except to more books.

The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith, upon which the HBO series is based. Looks like it's a good one, and I'm interested in reading it.

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People by Toby Young. This book looked to me like it could be annoying, so I never bought it or saw the film base on it. But hey, the price was right to try it out.

Working Stiff, by Grant Stoddard, subtitled "The Misadventures of an accidental sexpert." This was the friend's book, and he liked it. And so did somebody else who walked by, so I picked it up. Like you would a sexpert, I guess.

Cleopatra's Nose, Essays on the Unexpected by Daniel J. Boorstin, essays about American culture and institutions. Interesting. Also, written in '95, so we'll see if it has aged well, if at all. Love cultural essays--yay!

The Creative Habit, by Twyla Tharp. I had just seen her speak at USC on Tuesday (something else I wanted to write about), so this was fresh on my mind. I didn't get the book then, I guess so I could get the hardcover for free. Right place at right time.

Dishwasher, by Pete Jordan, a memoir about washing dishes in all 50 states. I've heard him on This American Life, so I've been intrigued, and now I get to read his book. I guess I love,too, that now he's a bicycle mechanic and writer in Amsterdam. How would someone like that not write an interesting book?

Lost, by Gregory Maguire. By the author of Wicked, it's his take on A Christmas Carol. I did like Wicked, a surprisingly dense read, so I'm looking forward to this. I haven't read any of his other stuff. And mint hardcover first edition, so we love that.

Varieties of Disturbance by Lydia Davis. This is a book of stories, and it was a finalist for the National Book Award, so I figure it must be pretty good. The book is certainly covered with praise. I got it because of the Grace Paley quote, "Davis is the kind of writer about whom you say, 'Oh, at last!'" No small praise.

And then this wierd little book called "Bill Nye's Comic History of the U.S." illustrated by F. Opper. It's blue with red and white embossing, and looks like it was printed in the 40's or 50's, but the publishing information just says "Copyright 1894, by J. Lippincott and Company". I imagine it's a reprint, but it's bizarre. And the original was blue clothbound, like this. Maybe I just picked up a $35 original! And, once again, it's free.

So it looks like I'm in books for a while. Fun!