Myths vs. Storytelling – Bejart

From the prior posts: I think my understanding of myth is somewhat personal.

What is the difference between a myth and a story?

Is is the presence of archetypal vs. ‘human’ characters?
Is it the presence of non-human, magical characters – like Sylphs?

I remember reading some Joseph Campbell when I was growing up – the Hero’s Journey, and some analysis of Star Wars… I don’t know. Didn’t really stick I guess.

Two years ago I went to Paris for a week to research Marie Taglioni at the Garnier Opera Archive. I was staying with a young scholar I had met in New York (we met while we were both working in the NY Library for the Performing Arts.) I was researching ballet families (Vestris, Taglioni, Coulon) and she was researching Balanchine.

While I was over there, we went to see Bejart Ballet.

Bejart passed away in late 2007. Here are a few excerpts from Lewis Segal’s obituary. (Bear with me – I know this seems disjointed: it comes together.)

Although he began his ballet career dancing the 19th century classics in pristine versions staged from the choreography notebooks of what is now the Kirov Ballet, Bejart eventually developed a complex style of contemporary ballet. It incorporated movement influences from a number of cultures, along with a flamboyant theatricality very much in the neo-Expressionist tradition of Western Europe but foreign to classical dancing. A key element of that new style was its refusal to accept conventional notions of what kind of dancing, roles and prominence “belonged” to males versus females.

Mauric Bejart

Contrary to their original versions, Bejart cast a man in the title role of his “Firebird” and in “Bolero” created a sexually indeterminate ballet: It is danced with 40 men and one woman, 40 women and one man or with an all-male cast.

“I and a few others have fought for men’s liberation in ballet — true equality,” he said in a 1985 Times interview, “though, of course, it is normal when you fight for equality that it looks like you are too much on the other side.” Above all, his approach to ballet was personal and intuitive, insisting, as he said, that “dance is a tool for expressing myself totally, for being, breathing, living, becoming myself.”

……. [C}ritics often disapproved of works that were long on philosophical and dramatic content but short on pure dance — particularly ballets that emphasized sensual and often openly homoerotic male dancing.

In hindsight, many of the attacks seem to be barely veiled homophobia, but Bejart took them in stride. “A creator who does not shock is useless,” he said at the time. “People need reactions. Progress is only achieved by jostling.”

Maybe myth is the difference between jostling, and attacking, an audience. One of the uses of myth is to create that slight distance necessary for audience comfort.

When I saw Bejart’s Ballet Mechanique, and his Bolero, I saw today’s myths. I saw the use of a highly dramatic, romantic peice of music, and a slowly expanding spot of light, to explore idealization, division, remove, and – what’s that word – ah yes, obsession.

I feel like I’m in good company with certain realizations about character/gender.

Maya Plisetskaya version of Bolero – 1st part:

Someone else – 1st part of the dance:

What are the myths of today? What are the lessons that we need to learn? Are they the same as the lessons transmitted by the greeks?

Have you seen today’s visions?
The ones that reflect and remove today’s barriers?

Who here got something from Balanchine’s Prodigal Son? Who here got something from Graham’s Errand into the Maze? Limon’s Moor’s Pavane?

Bejart has passed, joining Balanchine, Graham, Limon…. What’s next?

Finding the Meaning

So: to continue about La Sylphide from my last post…… A few years ago, I produced something called the D.C. Contemporary Ballet Festival. We took over the Takoma Theater for a week. I partnered with Mason/Rhynes Productions to pull it off. Cheles (and Gesel, and Liz, and I) really worked to fix up what was a run-down space with little tech.

I was really proud of what we did. Eight choreographers. Three classes, two shows. But no-one came to the classes, and only a few hundred came to the shows. I lost money on the event, and when I didn’t get any of the grants the next year, didn’t do it again.

I wrote a program note for the festival attempting to define contemporary ballet. What is ‘contemporary ballet’ anyway? I benefited from a conversation I had with Jonathan Jordan trying to figure out what the difference is between ballet and modern dance. (Congratulations to Jonathan, who earlier this week won the MetroDCDance Award for Best Performance.)

Jonathan posited that:

Modern dance tends toward the expression of the personal, while ballet tends toward the presentation of the universal, the archetypal.

While I can’t eat that one whole, I do think there’s something there.

The storyline of Sylphide is: there’s this Scottish dude who becomes enthralled with this otherworldly woman. She’s not actually a woman, though. She’s a sylph. She has wings. So, dude leaves his fiance, and tries to settle down with the sylph. (We’ve all been there, right?) But she keeps flying away. Dude meets a witch, who promises to help him secure his love. The witch says: just put this scarf around her, and she’s yours. So he does, and her wings fall off, and she dies, and dude ends up watching his ex-fiance marry his best friend. Curtain.

Here’s a clip of Nureyev in Sylphide:

The lessons there are real, the emotions real. The storyline is stupid. Myths allow us just enough remove to be entertained while we learn. Myth – not story – is one realm in which dance can thrive.

Awards for Dance

Justice is Bling

I have been sitting up (just now) cramming for a meeting tomorrow.

I am in my third year sitting on the Metro DC Dance Awards Finals Selection Committee. The public narrows it down to three, or five, nominees and then this committee decides who gets the awards. We each get one vote. We’re supplied with DVD’s of everything. The performance/performer with the most 1’s wins. The system is set up to run quickly, so we really only discuss if there are two items with same number of #1 votes.

I’ve sat on a few grant committees. I don’t mind the work of it. I find it interesting, and I like that my judgment is trusted. For some reason, I’m really uncomfortable tonight. Yes, I’m about a week late turning in my ballots (which are supposed to be turned in before the meeting), but that’s not it.

Some of what I watched, I watched with more pleasure, cause it was more to my taste. Who am I to say that my taste deserves an award? Is the thing that I and most people will give a ‘1’ too really the best? Moan, struggle, angst… but seriously: the stuff I ‘liked’ more – does that mean that it’s ‘better’?

I’m tired of judging my peers work. Ok. I’m not tired of judging my peers. But I’m tired of my judgment impacting them. There were very few performances that I saw that didn’t deserve an award, and none that I saw that I was like – holy shit, that just has to win. And there were things that weren’t nominated that I thought should be. That I saw cause there were other categories, or people, in the video, so I happened to see them watching for other things. (Chris Morgann’s sonnets thing for citydance really didn’t suck at all. Little rambly, but good.)

Lady Justice

I like sitting on grant panels. Hearing what people might do. Seeing what they have done. But I don’t like these awards. I know they serve a great purpose for our community. They really help to raise the winner’s profiles. And that’s a service. Shit, I want one! Nevertheless:

I read in the LA Times last night that from 1918 to 1948 (or something) art was in the olympics. You could win a medal for watercolor painting, or sculpture. I’m glad I wasn’t a judge. I’m off the committee after this year anyway, but I’m really struggling with trying to fill out these ballots. I’m not sure how to give my peers justice. I don’t feel it’s mine to give. And I’m tired of giving them judgment.