Playing with Fire and Against the Grain at MAD

I had a lovely time at the Museum of Art and Design this afternoon. I saw two shows, Playing with Fire, which explored art and design featuring glass, and Against the Grain, which focused on wood. Both were wonderful exhibitions, very eclectic and tactile. Strange and haunting creations, many surprises.

NYC Ballet: All Martins

Last night I saw NYC Ballet perform an all Martins program. The dancing was fascinating, complex, and modern.

I confess I had some trouble with the music. It was 20th Century American composers, somewhat dissonant and sparse. But for every piece that started off challenging for me, I eventually found myself absorbed and enthralled.

The first piece was "Calcium Light Night" with music by Charles Ives. This featured two dancers, who did solos and a pas de deux. It was sparse and unusual.

Before the second piece, during the pause, the orchestra was elevated and the conductor took some time to introduce us to the music, having the orchestra play samples. The composer was Charles Wuorinen, and the ballet was called "River of Light". This featured three couples who danced with each other in mix and match pas de deux. Although again I found the music difficult, I was delighted with the magnificent dancing.

Then, "Barber Violin Concerto" with music by Samuel Barber. This featured two couples, one dancing classical ballet, the other modern dance. They eventually mixed with each other. There were many lovely moments, and I enjoyed the modern dance movements.

Finally, and most spectacularly, "Fearful Symmetries" with music by John Adams. This dance included many dancers, and it was fast paced and funky. Very dynamic and exciting. Unfortunately, by this point in the program I was rather sleepy and couldn't concentrate as much, so I didn't fully take it in. I would like to see it again.

What Maisie Knew

I was kind of blown away by What Maisie Knew, a wonderfully acted and brilliantly paced film I saw last night at Angelika.

It tells the story of a bitter divorce from the point of view of a young child. Divorce may not be that interesting a topic anymore, but the directors do such a great job of focusing on what some sociologists refer to as "microaggressions", the small, daily, covert meannesses that can occur in interaction. It is a very tightly focused film, and the little girl, who registers both comprehension and confusion, as well as dread and sadness, simultaneously and subtly, gave a wonderful, impressive, and painful performance.

What Maisie Knew zooms in on the narcissism of her two parents, who, while cloyingly cuddling her and proclaiming their love, abandon her over and over again. She seems so lost and so small in so many scenes. She is often left alone with strange adults, and her composure masks a haunting sense of sadness.

Added to the plot are the two new spouses of her parents, each who seem to see the way Maisie is neglected, and thankfully they provide some sense of safety for the little girl, which is some consolation.

I really felt affected by What Maisie Knew, and think it was a perfectly executed film.

New York City Ballet All Robbins

Tonight I saw a wonderful New York City Ballet performance of three dances choreographed by Jerome Robbins.

They were all marvelous. The first, "Interplay" was joyful and breezy and uplifting, to music of Morton Gould. The second ballet was "Fancy Free" to Leonard Bernstein music, and featuring a sailor motif. The dancing was terrific, although there were a few awkward moments: one dancer, when jumping over a chair accidentally knocked it over; another dancer had a band of frayed material trailing from her skirt in such a way that I was nervous she would trip.

But the greatest piece was "I'm Old Fashioned". This ballet blew me away. It was an homage to the music of Jerome Kern and the dancing of Fred Astaire. It began with a large screen projection of the entire dance Astaire and Rita Hayworth do in this clip (the dancing starts a little over two minutes in). Then NYCB performs a number of pieces to Morton Gould's take on the music; lovely, lovely waltzes, with duets and solos. Finally at the end, they bring back the projection of Astaire and Hayworth, and the dancers all perform the same thing. It was a stunning affect, truly moving, and a wonderful end to the evening.

The Central Park Five

I just watched the Ken Burns documentary, The Central Park Five which tells the story of the five young teenagers who were accused and convicted of the brutal attack of the Central Park jogger in 1989. Years later, the real rapist confessed and his DNA was matched with the crime.

If you are familiar with the case, as I was, this documentary doesn't provide much new information. What it does do, however, is tell an important story of a very grave miscarriage of justice, and it offers a glimpse into the young men who needlessly endured much suffering as a result of unbridled racism and aggressive and blind prosecutorial arrogance. I found myself very moved.

Unfortunately the prosecutors and detectives involved in the case refused to participate in the documentary. I am very curious about their perspective and how they would defend their actions.

La Perichole

Last night I saw a New York City Opera performance of Jacques Offenbach's La Perichole at City Center.

While I found the music to be really fun and delightful, I was put off by the production, which included many drawn out gags and pratfalls, long stretches of unsung dialogue that did not move the plot forward, and an unpleasant visual mishmash of costumes and sets. I first found the colors and sets charming, but after a while it became kind of annoying to look at (ongepatschket, as my people say).

All of this took away from what I found to be a wonderful musical performance. I loved Marie Lenormand as Perichole as well as the trio of sopranos.

I had previously seen Offenbach's Tales of Hoffman in rehearsal at the Met, and adored the music. So I think I'm an Offenbach fan. Not a fan of the NYCO artistic director, however.

Cha-Ching!

I gobbled up Cha-Ching! by Ali Liebegott in a couple of days. This is a wonderful novel set in San Francisco and NYC in the 90s, following Theo, a big-hearted neurotic who is so wonderfully easy to relate to, as she tries to start her life over during the last few months before turning 30.

Theo possesses a sensitivity to those around her, and an acute, sometimes painful, consciousness of self. Her reflections on and interactions with the people around her are alternately and simultaneously hilarious and poignant.

Liebegott does a great job depicting that stage of waywardness in life, when you don't have direction and are floating around, worrying and coping. As I said, Theo is very relatable. Even though I am in very different circumstances than the character, I identified strongly with her internal state. A scene that resonated in particular was when she had a meltdown in the dentist's office. I recently went to the dentist without a Xanax, and ended up trembling and crying in the chair!

Cha-Ching! is a fast, engaging, entertaining read. I was disappointed when it ended, as I felt a sense of loss. I already miss the companionship I felt with Theo.