I follow Ellen DeGeneres on Twitter. Yesterday, she posted a tweet:
This week concludes Solo Ringing Month at the Handbell Podcast. My fourth and final (for now!) appearance was Tuesday night. (I was also on the show Apr 6, Apr 13, and Apr 20.)
We did a review of solo music. We looked at "Peace" by Matthew Compton, "A Hope" by Daniel Reck, and "Danza Espinola - Orientale" arr. by Larry Sue, and we talked a bit about my Clearinghouse of Choreography website.
Here's a link to the show:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 29 – Solo Music – Recorded 4/27/2010 and uploaded 4/29/2010
and here are links to the other 3 shows this month:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 23 – Solo Ringing (Michele Sharik Guest) – Recorded 4/6/2010 and uploaded on 4/8/2010
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 25 – Questions and Concerts – Recorded 04/13/2010 and uploaded 04/15/2010
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 27 – Techiques for Solo Ringers – Recorded 04/20/2010 and Uploaded 4/22/2010
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I've been reading Miss Music Nerd's blog for a few years now, ever since my good friend Paul Kinney mentioned her on the old Handbell-L. I follow her on Twitter, too.
Anyway, she's preparing for an upcoming recital & today blogged about her preparations for it, specifically, about her Musical Monkey Mind! She says:
One issue is what goes through my mind while I’m actually playing the piano. You’d think my mind has enough to do just looking at notes and sending the signals to my fingers to play them, but random thoughts do creep in, from whether it’s too hot or cold in the room, to that thing that guy said the other day that annoyed me. Or, if I feel I’m playing well, I’ll start thinking, “This is going really well!” or, “Dang, I’m good!” which basically guarantees that I’m about to go splat. Chiding myself doesn’t work any better — no point in thinking, “That bit didn’t go quite how I wanted” when that bit is in the rearview mirror.I *totally* understand what she's talking about in this post. There have been SO MANY TIMES that my mind just seems to wander while I play, and to random things as she says. And she's absolutely right that when your brain starts into the "Wow, that went well! I am so good!" you're 99.44% certain to mess up within the next 5 measures!
Performing music is a very Zen activity. The only thing that really works is just to take it moment by moment, not worrying about what just happened or what’s going to happen in a few minutes. And if something goes less than perfectly, you have to instantly forgive yourself and move on.How many times do we hang on to our mistakes, not forgiving, but rather kicking ourselves over and over again? And then we seem surprised that we keep making mistakes! I know I've been guilty of this myself, but I'm working on it & maybe someday I can overcome it. (Not soon enough, though! LOL!)
Today was a big day!
First was a Tech Rehearsal 10am-11am at school for the upcoming Dance Department concert. We all showed up in costume at the theater and stepped through the dances bit by bit while our professor and the tech people figured out the lighting. Then we ran both dances in real time while they did lights, etc. It was alternatively exciting and boring, but definitely a good thing to do. We have our regularly-scheduled class times this Tuesday & Thursday. Wednesday night is Dress Rehearsal for the whole department, with concerts both Thursday & Friday night. I'm looking forward to seeing the other dances on the program!
After Tech Rehearsal was over, I hopped in my car & drove up to California Baptist University in Riverside for "Ring Out California," a handbell festival put on by Desert Bells International from Phoenix, AZ. Kay Cook was the main clinician for the event & I got to play along with Scottsdale Handbell Ensemble in the massed pieces as well as their solo number. After the festival, we got a group picture of me with the groups from Desert Bells International (Scottsdale Handbell Ensemble, Bronzeworks, and Palo Verde Bells):
As I believe I've mentioned once or twice, April is Solo Ringing Month on the Handbell Podcast, so they'll be interviewing me every Tuesday night.
Here's the third of four shows, in which I answer more listener questions & talk about various solo/ensemble techniques:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 27 – Techiques for Solo Ringers – Recorded 04/20/2010 and Uploaded 4/22/2010
And here are the other episodes from this month, too:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 23 – Solo Ringing (Michele Sharik Guest) – Recorded 4/6/2010 and uploaded on 4/8/2010.
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 25 – Questions and Concerts – Recorded 04/13/2010 and uploaded 04/15/2010.
UPDATE: Here's the fourth & final episode for April:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 29 – Solo Music – Recorded 4/27/2010 and uploaded 4/29/2010
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DNCE 320
{underconstruction}: Liam Clancy
April 6, 2010
On Wednesday, March 24, the “Homegrown Dance Series” presented Liam Clancy in “{underconstruction},” described as “an evening of works in process/progress.” The printed program lists three works to be performed, but there were actually two videos shown, one at the beginning of the program, and one in the place indicated on the printed program.
Both videos were part of a project by Liam Clancy and Eric Geiger called “site-influence improvised dances,” in which they go to a public place, such as a park or building, and dance for an indeterminate length of time. In the first such video shown, the two men were dancing in what appeared to be the inside corner of a building, perhaps even a balcony. There was a closed door there and some sort of gas or electric meter. The camera was very close to the dancers so that most of what I could see was just their torsos, their faces and legs only coming into view if they bent over or kneeled down. One or the other of the dancers moved out of the view of the camera fairly frequently, then I'd see just an arm or a leg peek into view from the side until eventually the dancer's torso re-appeared. The two dancers weren't dancing with each other in the sense of a duet, but neither did they ignore each other. When their independent movements brought them into contact with each other, they acknowledged and interacted with each other, sometimes touching each other, and other times just looking at each other in a way that let me know that they consciously saw the other person. This actually gave a sense of intimacy to the dance and reminded me, of all things, of walking down a crowded street and choosing to either acknowledge or ignore the other people I encounter along the way.
Another thing that was interesting to me about this video was the fact that the dancers were not dancing to music. I could hear the traffic sounds and the rustle of their clothing as they moved. There was music to the video, a soulful slow jazz trio with vocal solo, but it was obviously overlayed during post-production. As a result, their movements had no conscious synchronicity to the music, which created for me a sense of surrealism as the soulfulness of the music combined with the intimacy of the dance. I wondered why they chose that particular piece of music to play over their video?
In the second video, the two dancers were in a park. The camera was lying on the ground, on its side, so that the sky was a vertical swatch of blue along the right side of the screen. The camera was resting on mulch, then there was a very low concrete barrier some distance out dividing the mulch from a green grass lawn which had a sidewalk along the far side, next to a tree-lined road (so the tableau was: mulch, barrier, lawn, sidewalk, road, trees, sky, all vertical rather than horizontal).
Once again, there was no music at the site, I could hear the traffic noises and the sound of the dancers' movements, but there was music overlayed in post-production. This music didn't seem as relevant to me as did the music for the first dance, since I can't even remember what the music was like! I'm actually surprised by that, as music is usually a focal point for me in any environment or experience. I suspect it's because I was lost in thought during this video.
At the beginning of this video, one dancer was very close to the camera and someone walked by along the sidewalk. At first I thought that was just a passer-by, but it turned out to be the other dancer. However, this made me start thinking about passers-by to these dances. What do they think when they see two men dancing in the park (or at a building or wherever)? There's no music, so do they recognize it as dance? Do they just see two men cavorting in the mulch and grass? Do they see the camera or do they just see the men? Do they think the men are homosexuals? I wonder if the passers-by ever interact with the dancers (they didn't in either of the videos shown), and if they do, what do they say or do? Do they harass the dancers?
In the days since the performance, I've been wondering what I would do if I saw two men “cavorting” in the park. Would I recognize it as dance? Would I make assumptions about their motives, their intentions, their sexuality? Or would I recognize it as dance? Would I attempt to join in or interact in some way? Would my reaction be different if it were two women or a man and a woman, rather than two men? Why or why not? I don't have answers to these questions, but I'm very glad the video prompted me to ask them.
In between the two videos was a solo piece entitled “the dirty solo.” The program says that this piece was “created with Leslie Seiters as director, witness, shaper, editor, map maker, question-asker and friend.” In the question and answer period after the concert, this was explained a bit. It turns out that for each performance, Leslie takes some potatoes and places them in a formation around some objects found at the venue, plus a few at the front of the stage area. For our venue, the objects were a work lamp (that is, a stand with three work lights clamped onto it) and a chair. She aimed each light in a different direction, then the house lights were lowered, leaving the lamp as the only source of light.
Liam then entered the stage, dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans, and barefoot. He picked up a potato and delivered a speech to the audience, excerpts from “Lightness” by Italo Calvino. After the speech, he turned around to face the potatoes and props. This is the first time he has seen them as they are arranged on this stage. He stood there for a moment, looking at them. He later told us that this is when he is formulating in his mind how he might move among them and what he might do to and with them. Then he began to move, slow movements with angular arms and bent knees, and circled around the potatoes toward the back of the stage. He picked up some potatoes, rolled them across the floor, into and out of the circles of light.
The music during this piece was a “phase piece” played on high notes of the piano. In a phase piece, the same short musical motive is played over and over again by at least two “voices,” but at similar but not exact tempi. The result is that the motive moves in and out of phase with itself, similarly to how your car's turn signal will move in and out of phase with the car in front or behind it as you wait to turn a corner on the street.
All the while, he danced in liquid movements, his own shadow mirroring his movements, but on a much grander scale, on the white walls of the theater. I watched his shadow more than I watched his body. It fascinated me how the two-dimensionality of the shadow obscured the three-dimensionality of the dance. From just watching the shadow, I couldn't tell if he was facing toward the light or away from the light, I couldn't tell if his arms were in front of his body or behind, I couldn't tell if he was holding potatoes or not, unless he held them out for their shadow to fall upon the wall, too. I realized that only by looking directly at him could I see clearly what he was doing, and that made me think again about how we interact with the people around us. Do we look at them directly so we can see them clearly, or do we instead watch their shadows and try to figure out what they are doing without knowing their true direction? Do we ourselves move in or out of phase with them?
By the end of the dance, he gathered the potatoes into a group, then sat down as if to tell the potatoes a story, and quoted from a piece by Gertrude Stein about trees with no roots. When he finished talking, he sat perfectly still for a moment, then broke character and stood up to indicate the piece was over. As Liam left the stage, the lights dimmed again and the screen was lowered for the second video. Meanwhile, Leslie returned to remove the props, but she apparently forgot some of the potatoes up near the front of the stage area.
After the second video was over, the screen was raised again and some people came onto the stage carrying what looked like sound equipment. It was indeed sound equipment, as a man came out with a violin and attached it to the equipment, then began to play. As he played, he recorded bits of what he was doing and played them back in loops and sometimes with some electronic processing, and played other things along with them. This way, he built up many layers of sound from just one instrument. Over the course of the piece, he varied this in a number of ways, so that it was not static, but constantly changing.
Nine people appeared on stage from various directions, entering at different times. Some stayed near the back of the stage, and it appeared as if they were trying to climb the wall. Others walked quickly back and forth across the stage. Still others jumped up and down or came into the audience seating area. As the piece progressed, the dancers interacted with each other, creating various vignettes around the stage that had little or nothing to do with each other. My attention was constantly drawn this way and that as I wanted to watch everything at the same time!
It seemed to be completely random, and made me think of College Hour on the quad at school. There were groups of people scattered about the area, all aware of the others' presence, interacting with them if they came within their sphere of influence, or sometimes seeking the others out so they could be interacted with, but at the same time each group separate, doing their own thing to their own schedule (or none at all), sharing space, but not necessarily sharing themselves.
At 30 minutes, this was the longest piece on the program. At the question and answer session, they said that the piece is usually an entire hour, but they were under time restraints this time. I think 30 minutes was the perfect length of time and I wonder if the effect would be diminished over the course of an hour, if the various vignettes and tableaux would become tedious to watch rather than a fascinating look into the interactions between groups and individuals.
My prof wrote: "Wow - 7 pages of train of thought, description, and analogy, meandering through a post-modern piece. Thank you for taking me along."
I played a solo concert at St. Bede's Episcopal Church in Menlo Park, CA, this past Sat, Apr 17, 2010. I'll write up a post about it soon - but in a nutshell: I am VERY satisfied with that concert. I feel like I played really well and had a great connection with my audience.
However, one part of the concert didn't go as well as I would like -- BUT, unless you are a soloist and are familiar with the piece, you wouldn't know it.
Last week, when I was being interviewed on the Handbell Podcast, we talked a bit about having a "toolkit" so that you can recover from errors. I think this is an excellent example of what happens when you spend the time practicing how to recover from mistakes!
Here's what happened: The beginning of this piece ("Be Still My Soul," arr by Christine Anderson & Anna Laura Page, AKA "Finlandia") has a fairly complex setup. I always set up while I'm doing the spoken intro to the piece. I've been playing this piece for years & years and have gotten the setup down pat.
Except for this time! I don't know what happened, but I mixed up some of the 4ih ("four-in-hand") setups this time.
The setup is supposed to be this:
1) Remove D#6 & F#6 and set aside (you will use the space they normally live in for something else)
2) Set B6\C7 (rh 4iH C7 over B6)
3) A6\G6 (rh 4iH G6 over A6)
4) E6/F6 (lh 4iH E6 over F6)
5) C6\D6 (rh 4ih D6 over C6)
6) Switch B-flat 5 & B5 (that is, put B-flat between A & C and put the B-natural up where the flat usually lives)
7) Set A5/B-flat5 (lh 4ih A5 over B-flat5)
8) F5\G5 (rh 4ih G5 over F5)
Here's what I actually did:
1) forgot to remove them
2) set up correctly
3) set up correctly
4) nope, set up F6/E6 (lh 4ih F6 over E6) -- wrong bell is on top!
5) set up correctly
6) ok
7) nope, set up A5\B-flat5 (rh 4ih B-flat5 over A5) -- wrong bell is on top AND set up for the wrong hand!
8) nope, set up G5/F5 (lh 4ih G5 over F5) -- set up for the wrong hand!
Here's a video of me playing the beginning of this piece (it stops just before the main tune enters):
(If this video is too small, you can go directly to YouTube and watch it there.)
I noticed the problem with #4 during the piano intro & fixed it before I started playing. I noticed the others just before I was supposed to play them, so you can see me switch the "hand" of the set up just before I need them. After the run, I'm supposed to end up with A5 in my left hand & D6 in my right. I had the D6, but because of #7, I had to disassemble that 4ih cluster & pick up the A5.
I am actually very proud of myself for this. Not only did I not panic, but I didn't let it affect the musicality of the piece. If you close your eyes and just listen to it instead of watching the clip, you can't tell that anything went wrong!
If you watch my face closely, you can see my frown at one point -- I'm thinking, "What the ...? Why are these set up wrong?!?"
I did fix #1 during the piano interlude between verses, but that's an easy fix, so I didn't include it in the video clip.
ADDENDUM: My good friend and fellow soloist Linda Krantz was at the concert. I talked to her about this after the show & she said that she immediately saw that I had set it up incorrectly, but didn't know what to do. She said, "I wanted to interrupt you and say, 'No! Stop! It's not set up right!'" LOL!
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DNCE 320
Journal, Week10
March 25, 2010
Gates, Jr., Henry L. "The Body Politic." The New Yorker 28 Nov. 1994: 112-24. Print.
This is a biographical piece about dancer-choreographer Bill T. Jones. He is an artist who is very aware of his audience's "gaze" -- he not only knows *who* is looking, but one also gets the sense from this article that he is also acutely aware of *why* they are looking, even if they-who-look are not themselves fully aware. As an avant-garde artist, Jones "embraces the controversy," challenging his audiences with images of a strong and virile black male body, but one who is homosexual, and thus plays upon the dichotomy of masculine vs. feminine (as many people imagine homosexual men to be), black vs. white (in his choice of dance partners and lovers), and now in his HIV-positive status, also of healthy vs. terminally ill. It is no surprise that his work "Still/Here" also embraces the controversy by taking death as its subject -- and not just "death," but the impending death of still-living terminally ill people. In this way, even though Jones calls himself "an artist first -- a black person second," he still embodies one of the main Africanist aesthetics that influences dance -- and all art -- today.
Croce, Arlene. "Discussing the Undiscussable." The New Yorker 26 Dec. 1994: 55-57. Print.
I have to say that by opening her article by declaring that she not only has not seen "Still/Here," but has no plans to review it, Croce made me wonder why she was even bothering to write about it at all. The author seems to be making a case against the type of art that "Still/Here" represents, yet admits to not seeing the work in question -- so how does she *really* know what type of art it is? Because someone told her? She asserts, "No one goes to 'Still/Here' for the dancing."
Here my prof wrote, "FYI, I did!"That's a mighty bold statement coming from one who seems proud of never having seen it! It makes me wonder why she believes she's even remotely qualified to discuss it. Since when did hearsay become a legitimate basis for critical analysis? This entire piece strikes me as coming from a place of unexamined privilege. I was entirely unsurprised to read that Croce served on an NEA panel in the late 1970s, a time of which she waxes nostalgic: "in those years, art and art appreciation were unquestioned good things to support, and 'community outreach' had its own program." She laments the demise of these Good Old Days: "private funders soon knuckled under to the community- and minority-minded lobbies." Oh my stars and garters! Is she upset that Western art has turned in a direction away from its Eurocentric heritage and is now even encompassing *gasp* the community! and *double gasp* minorities!? Let us all clutch our pearls in alarm! Of "Still/Here," Croce claims that "by working dying people into his act [sic], Jones is putting himself beyond the reach of criticism." I beg to differ. Art is, by its very nature, voyeuristic.
Here my prof wrote, "I agree."Artists, no matter their medium, perform and invite their audiences to *feel* something as a result of their performance. Is that not what Jones' work does? Jones is himself dying. If he were to dance now, would his work be "beyond criticism?" If so, why? Is it only because he incorporates the words and experiences of others into "Still/Here" that Croce labels him as "the most extreme case among the distressingly many now representing themselves to the public not as artists but as victims and martyrs." How does this work preclude Jones representing himself as an artist? How does a work which examines people's approaching death -- and their reaction to it -- a "spectacle" of "victimhood?"
Here my prof wrote, "Isn't dealing with mortality - imminent or otherwise - a very human topic?"Croce never tells us *why* this must be so, she merely asserts that it is. She asks of modern dance, "what happened to politicize it?" This makes me wonder if, despite being an art critic, she does not truly understand the distinction between "art" and "entertainment."
Here my prof wrote, "A powerful analogy."Practice Journal
My prof wrote, "Turn right - lean left..
Michele - I so enjoy your exchange of ideas, and found myself chuckling at parts (ahh, sarcasm) and "hear hear"-ing at the obvious and ridiculous irony."
DNCE 320
Journal, Week 9
March 16, 2010
Note: there was no journal for Week 8, which was our Midterm exam
Gottschild, Brenda Dixon. "Stripping the Emperor: The Africanist Presence in American Concert Dance." Moving History / Dancing Cultures: A Dance History Reader. Ed. Ann Dills and Ann Cooper Albright. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan UP, 2001. 332-3341. Print.
The author of this paper has identified five characteristics of Africanist dance that have influenced American concert dance, including ballet. The author asserts that many people may not even be aware that these processes, tendencies, and attitudes are Africanist in nature. The five characteristics are:
1) Embracing the Conflict. This is described as "an aesthetic of contrariety." Instead of trying to avoid or resolve conflict, this aesthetic instead emphasizes and examines the conflict.
2) Polycentrism/Polyrhythm. This is described as movement emanating from two or more parts or “centers” of the body simultaneously.
3) High-Affect Juxtaposition. "Mood, attitude, or movement breaks that omit transitions and connective links valued in European academic aesthetic." In other words, going from one type of movement or mood to another, contrasting type without necessarily having something in between.
4) Ephebism. From the Greek for "youth," this means a flexibility or vitality that exudes a youthful exuberance, no matter the age of the performer.
5) The Aesthetics of the Cool. This is an attitude combining composure with vitality.
The author then goes on to examine how American ballet differs from classic European ballet, largely through the influence of George Balanchine, a Georgian immigrant. Many examples are given of African influences in Balanchine's choreography such as the articulated torso, non-traditional (to ballet) timing, etc.
De Franz, Thomas. "Simmering Passivity: The Black Male Body in Concert." Moving History / Dancing Cultures: A Dance History Reader. Ed. Ann Dills and Ann Cooper Albright. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan UP, 2001. 342-249. Print.
This paper is an overview of black male concert dancers of the 20th century, beginning with Hemsley Winfield in the 1920s, who organized the Negro Art Theater and choreographed in the style of St Denis and other modern dancers. The work of this company is described as “modern dance by a large group of men which didn't trade on minstrel stereotypes” and which, subsequently, “stood well outside performance norms of the time.”
The dances of the Creative Dance Group, founded at Virginia's Hampton Institute by Charles Williams, are described as “exploit[ing] the physical dynamism of Hampton's male dancers in traditionally masculine settings.” The success of this group led to the founding of many other companies in southern black schools.
In New York, Asadata Dafora, who was influenced by West African dance, “defined successful black concert performance as serious, ritual-based exotica, unimaginably complex and distinct from mainstream modern dance.” Unfortunately, because was seen as so complex and outside the mainstream, this led to an “Othering” of black male dancers. They were seen as being only able to dance this way and not able to integrate, as it were, into the mainstream.
In the 1930s, perhaps as a result of Dafora's work, the American Negro Ballet and Negro Dance Theater were formed with the “racialist purpose of proving the ability of the black body to inhabit classical ballet technique.” However, both companies were forced – due to pressures of funding and audience interest – to “capitulate to stereotypical negro themes” which “obscured issues of the body, black dancers, and western classicism.”
In the 1950s, Alvin Ailey, who was heavily influenced by Gene Kelley (who he described as a “man dancer,” a male who danced in a masculine fashion with “no tights”), worked to “redefine popular stereotypes of the black male body on the concert stage to include the erotic.” Black Suite is given as an example of his work in which he explored political themes of gender, race, despair, and rage, within the black community.
Practice Journal
I'm actually feeling pretty good about the dance right now.
Here my prof wrote, "Hurray!"I think that spending a lot of time in class going over the quality of the movements and repeating the dance over and over has been very helpful to me. It's hard to practice on my own. I am a visual learner (with a strong dose of kinesthetic learning thrown in, too) and not having anything in front of me to use as a reference while practicing makes it difficult to remember what's supposed to happen next. So, the repetition is good for me.
As I wrote before, April is Solo Ringing Month on the Podcast, so they'll be interviewing me every Tuesday night.
Here's the second of four shows, in which I answer listener questions & talk about putting on a concert:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 25 – Questions and Concerts – Recorded 04/13/2010 and uploaded 04/15/2010.
UPDATE: and here are the other shows from this month, too:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 23 – Solo Ringing (Michele Sharik Guest) – Recorded 4/6/2010 and uploaded on 4/8/2010.
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 27 – Techiques for Solo Ringers – Recorded 04/20/2010 and Uploaded 4/22/2010
UPDATE: Here's the fourth & final episode for April:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 29 – Solo Music – Recorded 4/27/2010 and uploaded 4/29/2010
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DNCE 320
Bahok: the Akram Khan Company
February 18, 2010
The ArtPower! Series of UCSD presented Bahok by the UK-based Akram Khan Company on Friday, February 12, 2010. The work was choreographed by company founder and Artistic Director Akram Khan and was presented without intermission.
As the audience entered the theater, the stage was bare except for a hanging electronic sign like the ones at airports and train stations, center stage and blank. After the opening announcements, the lights went out, plunging the audience into pitch blackness. The music began, pounding drums and insistent guitars. Suddenly the music stopped and the lights returned to reveal a tableau of four women and four men arranged about the stage, barefoot and dressed in casual clothes such as jeans and t-shirts. Some sat on plain ladder-back chairs, a few stood, their backs to the audience, looking at the hanging sign, and one sat on a suitcase, his head in his hands. All looked bored and/or frustrated.
In the silence, one woman pulled a piece of paper out of her jacket pocket and read it. She frowned and put it down on the vacant chair beside her, then pulled another paper out, then another, then another. She ruffled through the pages, and seemed to silently panic. Meanwhile, one of the men who was standing and looking at the sign dropped his hand luggage. The noise it made falling to the floor caught the woman's attention and distracted her from her papers. She softly padded across the stage, looked at the man, and then silently picked up the bag and put it back into his hand. While she still stood there, he let the bag drop again. She seemed not to know what to do. Suddenly the sign came alive, and the dancers all jumped up to look at it. The letters clicked and whirred as they jumbled through the alphabet stopping one by one until a phrase emerged: "PLEASE WAIT."
It was then that the music began again, a low electronic hum soon joined by other softly pulsing electronic sounds. The woman began to move, her feet sliding across the floor, her arms encircling her head. One by one, the other people on stage began to move, too. As the tempo of the music increased, the pace of the movements increased, until everybody was dancing and tumbling around, about, and across the stage, arms flailing and bodies sliding across the floor in frenzied moves that reminded me of 1980s break-dancing. It was as if they were venting all of their frustrations in their movements.
The sign came alive again and the dancers stopped to watch the changing letters, their hope and anticipation almost palpable. A single word emerged from the chaos: "DELAYED." The dancers all seemed to deflate and moped back to their chairs.
Many scenes played out over the course of the show. There seemed to be as much acting as there was dancing, sometimes with dialogue, sometimes with gestures. Always the sign would interrupt with messages such as "RESCHEDULED," and "GATE CHANGE."
As the work progressed, relationships emerged. In one period of silence, a man tried to sit on the chair holding the woman's papers, but the woman pushed him away. He tried again and she pushed again. He tried one last time and she pushed again, shaking her fist and shouting at him. Giving up, he ended up sitting on a chair next to a sleeping woman, who, disturbed by his movement, slid down until her head was resting on his shoulder. He tried to push her off, but she was limp and couldn't be pushed. He stood up, she stood, still leaning on him. Every time he tried to stand her up by herself, she fell onto him again, wrapping her arms (and even legs) about him. He appealed to another man for help, but the man thought they were lovers and just laughed as he walked away. As the man tried to free himself, the music began again, a beautiful melody played on the cello. The couple ended up on the floor bathed in a spotlight while the rest of the stage was dark. The man lay on his back while the woman straddled him, facing the audience. From this position they began to move their arms sinuously, looking like a single creature with four arms. Their arms played about the woman's face and body, caressing her as tenderly as the cello seemed to caress its notes. At the conclusion of this dance, the man lifted the woman and placed her back in her chair and sat down beside her. He put his arm around her shoulder and that's when she woke up, realized where she was and what he was doing and pushed him away. I had to wonder, was the beautiful romantic dance only his fantasy?
In another scene, a man and a woman were apparently called in to the Immigration Office. They sat in their chairs downstage left, facing the audience. The woman, speaking English, answered questions from an Immigration Officer (unseen and unheard by the audience). Based on her answers, the Officer was asking standard questions such as why they were traveling together (were they married? No, she said, they work together), why did the man want to visit London, does he have a return ticket, and what's in their suitcases? The woman said the man doesn't speak English very well and she tried to relay the questions to him, but the Officer apparently accused her of "giving him the answers," because she grew more defensive as the questioning continued. When she was asked what was in her suitcase, she said, "Only my father's shoes" and pulled them out of her bag, then said, "I'm not going to answer any more questions." She leaned back in her chair, silently clutching the shoes, as the man looked at her. Then the spotlight focused on him and the woman stood up and walked away, taking the shoes with her.
The man turned to face the Officer (that is, the audience) and started to speak as soft music began to play. I'm not sure what language he was speaking, but as he spoke, the sign translated his words into English. As the others on stage began to move in time to the music, the man told a story of old men spitting into a river near his home. He said that the men looked at him, as if they wanted him to spit, too, but he didn't want to spit, he just wanted to disappear, like he wanted to disappear now. He asked, "You don't understand me, do you? I am a foreigner. So are you. Can I go now?" The spotlight faded on him and came up on the other dancers. They danced together and apart, individual dancers joining first one group and then another, until finally everyone was dancing together.
This seemed to me to be portraying a desire of the individuals to be a part of a group, any group, and we want to lose ourselves, to disappear in the comfort of that group. Or maybe which group doesn't matter really, because we're all ultimately part of the same big group, anyway, and our petty differences don't matter.
Then, the woman who had been in the Immigration Office entered, but I didn't recognize her at first, until I saw the shoes. She was wearing a large jacket over a hooded shirt, the hood pulled up over her head. As she entered with her back to the audience and slowly moved across the stage, I saw that she was wearing "her father's shoes." She stood in one position for a long time until the other dancers noticed her and backed off. She began to ... "vibrate" is the only way I can describe it. The vibrations seemed to rise out of the shoes until her entire body was shaking, then she seemed to break free and danced wildly around the stage, the big jacket giving her torso a sense of blocky solidity in contrast to the fluid motions of her arms and legs. Finally she shed first one shoe and then the other, then removed the jacket and the hood. She picked up the shoes and returned to the Immigration Office and repeated her last lines, "Only my father's shoes" and, "I'm not going to answer any more questions."
In the final scene, the woman with the papers ended up with another man's cell phone (he had dropped it during the previous dance). She held the phone to her ear and asked, "Mama? Mama?" She lowered the phone from her ear and clicked it like a remote control. The sign came to life again and read, "ARE YOU LOST?" She looked at the sign, pointed the phone at it, and clicked. The sign responded with, "YOU SEEM LOST." The man whose cell phone it was noticed her actions and tried to take it back from her saying, "It's not a remote control!" but she kept the phone, pointed it at the sign again and clicked. The sign said, "IS IT IN YOUR PAPERS?" The man and the others now noticed that the sign was responding to her clicks. She clicked again. The sign said, "DO YOU REMEMBER?" Click. "HOME." Click. "HOME." Click. "HOME." Then the stage faded to black.
This performance was very different from what I expected. I expected it to be mostly dancing, a story told without words. But there were words, some spoken, some written, intermixed with the dancing and the acting. It's interesting as I was gathering my thoughts to write this paper, I searched the web for a reminder of what the sign had said in various sections of the show. I found what purported to be a transcript, but it included many more things for the sign than I saw in the show last Friday, interspersed throughout the show. Maybe they were having technical difficulties with the sign, or maybe Khan changed the show to remove some elements, but as an example, in the transcript, the last three words of the sign, instead of being "HOME" three times, were "HOME," then "HOPE," then "HOME." Does that transcript change my perception of the show? Not really. I think the show told a convincing story of human nature in a stressful, yet still boring situation (that is, waiting in a travel center) and how we might communicate when we can't understand each others' word, how we deal with the misunderstandings that arise from that effort, and how we find a common ground.
My professor wrote, "Thank you for the telling. Though there is less 'Michèle' here than in your previous work, I enjoyed the almost objective, disjointed account. It sounds like the program, though unified by "place," was surreal. A dreamlike experience where the unexpected arises from nowhere and makes sense on a psychological level."
That's right! April is Solo Ringing Month on the Handbell Podcast, and so podcast hosts Dean Jensen & Paul Weller are interviewing me each Tuesday night.
Last Tuesday, we talked about beginning solo ringing. You know, stuff like how to get started, what you need, and where to start. They invited listeners to submit questions for this week's show, and there were some very good questions from the Handbell Community site.
This week, in addition to answering questions, we also talked about preparing for a concert. Next week, we'll tackle some more detailed technique issues, such as the difference between "four-in-hand" and "traveling four-in-hand" as well as some "six-in-hand".
Each week, Dean & Paul upload two podcasts. Tuesday's upload is a general interest show and Thursday's upload is all about me! ;-)
I'll try to remember to come back to this post and update this list with links to all of "my" shows, just so they're all in one place, but I'll also create a separate post for each, too.
So without further ado, here's the Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 23 – Solo Ringing (Michele Sharik Guest) – Recorded 4/6/2010 and uploaded on 4/8/2010.
UPDATE: here's the Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 25 – Questions and Concerts – Recorded 04/13/2010 and uploaded 04/15/2010.
UPDATE: here's the
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 27 – Techiques for Solo Ringers – Recorded 04/20/2010 and Uploaded 4/22/2010
UPDATE: Here's the fourth & final episode for April:
Handbell Podcast Season 5 Show 29 – Solo Music – Recorded 4/27/2010 and uploaded 4/29/2010
Enjoy!
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A couple of weekends ago (Mar 20), I flew to Boston for the Massachusetts Spring Ring. I had to get up at the insane hour of 3:00 am on a Friday to get to the San Diego airport by 4 for a 6am flight, but it was totally worth it!
My good friend David Wurth is the Massachusetts Chair of AGEHR Area I. I met him 3 years ago when he hosted me for a concert at a church in Marblehead. When he asked me if I would like to be the guest conductor for the MA Spring Ring this year, of course I said yes. I shared the podium with AGEHR past-president (and honorary Life Member) Karen Leonard.
There were approximately 17 groups in attendance, about 200 ringers & Karen & I each conducted two pieces.
Here's a pic of the various groups setting up:
Karen conducted Cynthia Dobrinski's "Celebrate with Joy" for the adults and Tim Waugh's "Reperqussio" for the youth. I conducted Arnold Sherman's "How Can I Keep from Singing," and Michael Glasgow's "Simple Dance" (both for the adults). The groups all worked really hard on the massed pieces & I think they sounded really really good!
Here's a pic of Karen conducting the adults:
We had an Irish fiddler (and also a member of Back Bay Carillon) play along on Michael's piece & she added some Irish ornaments in to the melody, which sounded GREAT!
In addition to the 3 massed Adult pieces & the one massed Youth piece, most of the groups played solo numbers, too. One thing I liked that I haven't seen in some of the other ringing events I've attended and/or directed was that when each group was done, they acknowledged the audience's applause & even bowed! I think most groups just don't plan for that & it was refreshing to see that these groups had. :-)
Colett Camp Daniels played a solo (“Simple Gifts” by Sue Garton) with guitar. The beginning & end are played 6-in-hand & she played the middle section using only a 3-foot table. I really liked that during the 6iH sections, she came out from around the table and stood next to the guitarist and interacted with him that way. Again, it was refreshing to see somebody do something "out of the ordinary"!
I also played a solo, my arrangement of the Bach/Gounod "Meditation". Karen brought her keyboard & Allie played violin. Everybody seemed to enjoy it - and I think the 3 of us played quite well together.
This is going to sound like a non sequitor, but I use Twitter. (You can see my tweets over there in the right-hand nav panel!) I use TweetDeck on my laptop to read tweeters that I follow & have a column to show me all tweets that include the word “handbell”. I often reply to those tweeters to ask for more info about whatever handbell topic they're tweeting about. That weekend, one popped up saying something about going to a handbell festival somewhere. I asked which festival & where. They replied with:
OK, I know I'm behind in blogging. I've got to post some Dance journals and a paper, plus I need to blog about my trip to Boston. Tonight, I'll be interviewed on the Handbell Podcast, which I'm really excited about!
But first, this is just a quick note to share what we did in eMus ("Computers and Music") class today. Some background info:
My lab partner (Grace) and I were working with ProTools. The professor had us do some simple things just to familiarize ourselves with the software. We used a microphone to record a vocal track - Grace sang "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and I sang the Alphabet Song. We then added fade-in and -out to our track & then reversed the audio.
Then we added other MIDI instruments. We used some sort of percussion (maracas, tambourine and bongos, maybe??) and something called "Big Belly Pad" plus "Soft Panpipes." We used the "Pencil Tool" to randomly draw notes into the tracks because we were too lazy to go get a MIDI controller keyboard from the cabinet on the other side of the room.
The result? Very very creepy, but very cool! I bounced it to disk & here's the wav file. It's almost 12M in size, so give it some time to download, then the sound starts about 6-8 seconds in (hey, we're new at this!).
Enjoy!
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