Culture & Arts

I Remember Mama, John Van Druten's adaptation of Mama's Bank Account, Kathryn Forbes' memoir of her early 20th-century San Francisco upbringing, opened on Broadway October 19, 1944, with Mady Christians (please don't ask who that is) in the title role and Marlon Brando making his Main Stem debut as Mama's son Nels.

The film starring Irene Dunne was released by RKO in 1948. The CBS television series, starring Peggy Wood, bowed on July 1, 1949 and ran until 1957, when sponsor Maxwell House Coffee apparently decided that though the long-running show retained its popularity, viewers were not buying the product.

Jack Cummings III's Transport Group Theatre Company revival of the play is now at the Judson Gym and the first since the initial run. What readers may want to bear in mind is that it's being reviewed here by someone who didn't see the original production but did see the movie and, furthermore, never missed a television episode. Therefore, the reviewer has an admitted sentimental attachment to the subject matter that may have no meaning for anyone born long after the series cancellation or even immediately after it. Latecomers may think I Remember Mama is old-fashioned, maybe dated, but I absolutely do not.

That being established, I'm happy to say I admire Cummings's approach, which -- as with just about everything else he does -- is nowhere near conventional. And be aware that Van Druten's episodic play, which features Mama knowing best through a series of small family complications, unabashedly relies on the handy conventions of the time. They certainly were familiar. They'd been employed, for instance, in the long-running Life With Father (opening in 1939), for which I Remember Mama is something of an answer piece.

Cummings has done something akin to a deconstruction of the work about the joys and minor woes of a striving Norwegian brood. When the audience enters the Judson Gym's basketball-court sized gym, they're confronted with 10 dining-room tables, each laden with a different sort of domestic appointment -- glasses, flat wear, napkins and doilies -- as well as books, letters and especially old typewriters in which parts of Forbes's stories are rolling from the platens. Suspended over the tables are five rows of seven lighting fixtures.

Once the audience is seated on four sides of the playing area and I Remember Mama begins, nine cast members -- all women of a certain age, which is where the unconventional deconstruction comes in -- enter and sit one each at nine of the tables. Katrina (Barbara Barrie), Forbes's version of her younger self, recites the first line of the book from which Van Druten culled the nostalgic work. It's a form of the remark that began the tv series week in and week out: "For as long as I could remember the house on Steiner Street had been home."

(Yes, that flashback to an earlier time in my life got me in the gut.)

Mentioning the members of her family, Katrin leaves her mother until last, noting that "Most of all I remember Mama." That's the point at which Mama (Barbara Andres) enters and the action begins. Katrin starts running through sequences where Mama deals in wise fashion with complications involving young daughter Dagmar (Phyllis Somerville,) middle daughter Christine (Louise Sorel), son Nels (Heather MacRae taking over the Brando part), husband Lars (Dale Soules), sisters Trina (Rita Gardner), Jenny (Alice Cannon) and Sigrid (Susan Lehman) and English boarder. Mr. Hyde (Lynn Cohen).

Although various developments such as a sick cat, Mr. Hyde's reading-aloud contributions to the Steiner Street home, squabbles with seemingly penurious Uncle Chris (Cohen) and Katrin's loss of belief in her own writing are the besetting worries, the continuing undercurrent of concerns is financial, budgetary -- all of them minimized by Mama's insistence that everything can be solved without having to draw on her much invoked bank account.

(Incidentally, the deficiencies of Katrin's early writing are exactly like those Jo March faces in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. They clear up when the same piece of advice comes their way: Write about what you know. And you might want to check if Sally Benson was told the same thing before she commenced penning the New Yorker vignettes that became the Meet Me in St. Louis memoir and 1944 MGM musical or Ruth McKenney unfurled trhe stories behind My Sister Eileen and Wonderful Town.)

Although it's fair at the get-go for anyone watching Cummings' bold take unfold to wonder how well it'll go down, it's no time at all until it makes perfect sense -- and not just as a gimmick. A good deal of the success is due, of course, to the playing by women who simply take on the roles.

And note that in the case of those playing youngsters or men, they never do anything like comment on their being women assuming unexpected assignments. Cohen as Mr. Hyde and the wild-haired, belligerent Uncle Chris registers strongly. MacRae with a single braid falling down her back is appealing as the likable Nels as well as Aunt Trina's shy suitor Mr. Thorkelson. Dale Soules makes a perfectly fine Papa as well as the doctor ministering to Dagmar.

Barrie's playing Katrin's older and younger selves gets the convincing balance. Gardner, Cannon and Lehman, acting women their age, may have an easier time of it, but they each do nicely as Mama's more prickly sisters. Somerville is a bouncy Dagmar and also gives the role of Uncle Chris's longtime companion quiet dignity. Sorel lends Christine the right sibling edge and brings the proper hauteur to Florence Dana Moorhead, the celebrated author Mama consults about Katrin's writing talents.

Most of all, there's Andres' Mama. She has well in hand the warmth, understanding and direct approach required.

As this I Remember Mama strides along, it can increasingly seem as if Cummings has a strong reason behind casting as he has. More than anything the script is presenting a woman's world. With only women on stage, he suggests that families are, possibly more often than not, women's domains. If this is what he has in mind, he realizes his intentions extremely well.

Closing trivia that isn't so trivial: Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II produced I Remember Mama, which explains, at least to some extent, why Rodgers supplied the score for the forgettable 1979 musical treatment with Liv Ullman as the gallantly persevering mother.

More significantly, Rodgers and Hammerstein later wrote another blockbuster show about a mother who sets a family right -- The Sound of Music with problem-solving mom Maria von Trapp. If you want, you can think of I Remember Mama as their wind-up to the later one, and enjoy it on that level.

How To Start A Movement

A movie review of Chavez

Lloyd I. Sederer, MD

"Si se puede!" Yes we can! Cesar Chavez asserts to a restive crowd of California migrant workers whose hope has worn too thin. Chavez has to keep their spirit and a movement alive that will deliver them from fear, child labor, inability to read and write, and the $2 a day in wages that are breeding another generation of shame, suffering and early death.

The recipe for a successful movement has been cleverly depicted in a three minute TED talk by Derek Sivers that has been viewed over 3.5 million times. Start with guts, courage that will be dearly tested, and fashion a message and a plan that is simple to understand and follow. But you can't do it alone: the essential next step is finding one follower so you are not alone, not a "lone nut." Then a third person is needed because three's a crowd -- and a crowd is newsworthy. The remaining ingredients (not in the TED talk) are unrelenting dedication, usually a fair amount of hardship and persecution, and time, with long days blending into years.

Cesar Chavez saw the shame in his father's eyes when the Great Depression robbed them of the family farm. The son's path, that of the hero he would become, was emblazoned into his soul at that mutative moment. Yet a hero's journey is not of his (or her) choosing but rather what is harnessed to him as an inescapable destiny. Chavez now bore his social and personal mission: serve the many, like his family, who did not have a fair shake and elude the ignominy that broke his father's soul.

Chavez died more than 20 years ago, so his legend is fading as a new generation searches for its heroes. His movement started in the disruptive 1960s and ran well into the 1970s when farmworkers gained the right to unionize that would make them a collective force able to battle the power of the growers, the police and the local judges. Because his movement was in California he had both Ronald Reagan (as governor) and Richard Nixon (as president) -- both Californians -- working to defeat him.

The person the filled the role of his first follower was his extraordinary wife, Helen -- she was the first to go to jail. His next follower, making a crowd, was Dolores Huertas, a civil rights organizer who later co-founded the National Farmworkers Association (the forerunner to the United Farm Workers). While Chavez could not do it alone it was his spirit that kept the light burning at the darkest moments.

Director Diego Luna brought together a terrific ensemble of actors. Michael Peña gives us an understated yet engrossing rendering of the eponymous Mexican-American icon. We see how his fire burns deep -- how it chars him, not only fuels his cause. America Ferrera is Helen, his devoted (but not obsequious) wife who struggled to keep her husband from the tragic fate of a saint. Rosario Dawson energetically plays Huertas with what surely must have been her indomitable spirit. The great scene stealer is John Malkovich, who with his trademark creepy aplomb portrays the evil of unbridled capitalism.

Luna's directing is strongest in the fields and worker rallies where we enter their lives and their journey to a better life. But efforts to make Cesar and Helen more familiar, more human, through a running narrative of their family, eight children, a father-eldest son struggle, and spousal arguments seem to slow the film down and dilute its forceful documentary-like edge.

Every hero's journey needs an enemy. But don't be fooled, it was not simply the first generation American grape grower patron, John Bogdonovich, who built an empire with his own willful industry. The greater and deeper enemy, Chavez proclaims, is the violence that must be battled. But not the violence perpetrated against the workers, which is grim to witness, but the violence that is kindled in them as impotence, humiliation and rage combust and then want to explode.

Chavez had his noble calling for justice and dignity. He had a humble demeanor to boot. Like Pope Francis and President Obama he too made Time magazine's cover as Man of The Year. But it was his method, elegantly simple to understand and follow, that jumps from the screen: don't eat grapes, or their wine products, sold by growers who exploit their workers. Boycotting could (and did) bring an industry to its knees as revenue, their oxygen, was cut off. When the movement hit a huge wall Chavez doubled down, borrowing from Gandhi and other saint-like figures, and stopped eating himself, everything but water, for 25 days. He had the entire country engaged in his battle. It didn't matter what side you were on, what mattered was his passion.

Chavez's movement was radical, dangerous, innovative -- and non-violent. It was the 60s and we had the Kennedys, Dr. King, Vietnam, civil rights for blacks, youth taking mostly pot and LSD, not performance enhancers or numbing narcotics, assassinations, the early Bob Dylan poetry of protest, and even health care reform (Medicare and Medicaid were enacted mid-decade). This film takes us into an era since unrivaled in its pursuit of social justice and human potential. Go see it for that history lesson and to witness the work of a master movement craftsman named Chavez.
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Dr. Sederer's new book for families who have a member with a mental illness is The Family Guide to Mental Health Care (Foreword by Glenn Close).

www.askdrlloyd.com http://www.askdrlloyd.com

The opinions expressed here are solely mine as a psychiatrist and public health advocate. I receive no support from any pharmaceutical or device company.

Copyright Dr. Lloyd Sederer

Chapter III of Lars von Trier's Nymphomaniac: Vol. I, demonstrates the effect of his central character's actions on others. The character, Joe (whose youthful and grown selves are played respectively by Stacy Martin and Charlotte Gainsbourg), has been playing a game in which she schedules appointments with many men during the course of the night. She flips a dice to determine what her response to them will be. In the scene in question she tells her lover Mr. H (Hugo Speer), a man she can't stand that the reason she can no longer see him is that she loves him too much. After he leaves his family for her, H's wife (Uma Thurman) shows up with her children, just as Joe's next appointment for the evening appears, flowers in hand. Joe responds to H's histrionics with,

"You can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs."

Steve McQueen's Shame was a film about the consequences of sexual addiction, but von Trier's project is far more ambitious. Joe's lust is a combat against love. Actually the right word might better be called anesthetic. She says,

"For me love was lust with jealousy added"

and she forms a coven of women devoted to promiscuous sex who chant,

"mia vulva mia maxima vulva."

When she does fall in love with Jerome (Shia LaBeouf), the man who has deflowered her at 15, she remarks,

"I could suddenly see the order in all this mess. I wanted to be one of his things."

The form of the movie is a combination of erotic history like the Story of O, The 120 Days of Sodom, or Emmanuelle and a psychoanalytic case history like Freud's Anna O. The psychoanalytic aspect is underlined by the fact that Joe is telling her whole story to a kindly seemingly assimilated anti-Zionist Jew named Seligman (Stellan Skarsgard) who is a computer profile of the psychoanalyst/intellectual and who spends most of the movie trying to minimize her guilt and self-hatred by saying things like,

"it's extremely common to react sexually to a crisis."

One of the triumphs of Nyphommaniac: Vol I is that it 's totally devoid of eroticism even as it profoundly examines Joe's lust in graphic scenes which include fellatio and public masturbation. Nymphomaniac is the exact opposite of Blue is the Warmer Color whose examination of emotion was deeply erotic in and of itself. It displays an almost clinical approach to nymphomania similar to that of a gynecologist toward the female reproductive system. If you wanted to reduce the movie to psychology you could say that Joe had a rejecting mother who turned her back to her as she played solitaire and a loving physician father (Christian Slater). As her father dies in a hospital where the loss of his bodily functions is graphically portrayed, Joe's predatory sexuality reaches new heights. Volume I ends with Joe in an act of coitus interruptus crying out,

"I can't feel anything."

The sex games between Joe and her friend B (Sophia Kennedy Clark) and the use of the Fibonacci sequences as one of the many extracurricular film graphics (that include memories and newsreel footage) are part of the film's own peculiar form of Verfremdungseffekt which is curiously and perversely intimate. The notion of polyphony is a theme that emerges explicitly in final chapter of the Vol I, "The Little Organ School," in the discussion of Bach, but it constitutes the basic mode of disquisition. From the very beginning sequence when Seligman finds Joe lying in the street--a scene which has the threatening quality of German Expressionist masterpieces like Fritz Lang's M with its dirty brick passageways and water dripping on garbage can lids, there are two stories being told. Seligman is a representative of European culture and Joe's recollections are interspersed with his own memories of fly fishing which come to him by way of a classic treatise, the l7th Century writer Izaak Walton's The Compleat Angler; Or, The Contemplative Man's Recreation. In these early sequences the act of picking up men is equated with the notion of fish and bait. (a nymph is by the way an undeveloped insect). Nymphomaniac is not an exploration of sexuality or desire or love. It's a classic compendium of information about the human species. Hopefully it will be cherished by generations of filmgoers in the same way that original editions of the Walton volume are preserved by rare book collectors today.

{This was originally posted to The Screaming Pope, Francis Levy's blog of rants and reactions to contemporary politics, art and culture}

Brick walls are underrated. Just because a phone doesn't ring with job offers doesn't mean that it's gone completely silent. If you're lucky, if you've been through it a time or two, when you hit a brick wall and no one is calling you for work, then creativity meets boredom meets desire to push you into your next big thing.

I was talking to my friend, the photographer Michael O'Brien the other day about his book Hard Ground. He said the only reason he did the project was that he didn't have any other work. If it hadn't been for this serious dry spell, he would've missed out on the whole thing.

Michael's photos have appeared in so many magazines and ad campaigns that it's not even funny. He's a true pro. Award winning. His photographs are in the permanent collections of the National Portrait Gallery and the International Center for Photography in New York. And yes, as crazy as it sounds, even Michael O'Brien goes through stretches where the phone doesn't ring.

So what does he do when there is no work? He looks around for something to do.

Michael likes to take pictures. It's what he does best. Starting in 2006, during one of these strangely silent periods, he began volunteering at Mobile Loaves and Fishes, an Austin non-profit that distributes food to the homeless. As a favor to the organization, he started taking pictures of some of the people they served. And he kept on going, taking portraits for the next three years. Michael had time on his hands and no one was telling him what to do. So he chose to go completely old school, using an old view camera and Polaroid "Type 55" black-and-white film. The result was haunting, deeply intimate.

Doing this project, Michael was reaching back to his early days as a photojournalist, documenting the disenfranchised, the down-and-out in Miami. Now, as he took portraits of the homeless around Austin and wrote down their stories, he began to feel a deep connection to them. The result is Hard Ground. The photos are paired with poems by Tom Waits . It's a beautiful, heart-wrenching collection. I highly recommend it.

What I find interesting about Michael's story is that at a time when it would have been easy for him to throw up his hands and wonder why no one was calling (I'm sure he did a bit of this as well), he went out and built his own project. As he says in the book, taking pictures of "these urban wanderers gave me a reason and purpose for my work." At the very time when the photography industry was doing somersaults onto its own sword and Kodak was going bankrupt (ending his supply of film as well), Michael went back to the basics of his art. He used a lull in his calendar to push himself creatively.

Any artist that's been around for awhile knows all about these empty stretches of time when the phone doesn't ring. But like I said, brick walls are underrated. Michael O'Brien used his own brick wall as a kick in the ass to come up with something to do, something new. And in the process created some of the best work of his career.

That's how it's done, my friends.

Before Queen Elsa's blizzard tore through Arendelle, the voice behind the icy blonde tore through Oz's Western sky. I was 12 years old the first time I experienced Idina Menzel's powerhouse voice. I sat speechless inside New York City's Gershwin Theater, bewitched by a green-skinned woman I had never heard of propelling herself into the air through the sheer power of song. My mouth literally fell open as Menzel suddenly lifted from the ground and held her broomstick out in front of her like a scepter symbolizing her newfound freedom. "No one mourns the wicked," the townspeople screamed below her.

I couldn't blink as Menzel soared above the stage and belted out over the audience in a kind of voice I didn't know existed. It was high, deep, soft and rough at the same time. It was raspy, yet it also sounded smooth as ice. In one song, Menzel could make you feel weak, powerful, restrained and free.

I have seen Wicked six more times since that night, but no Elphaba has ever compared to the soul and power that Menzel thrust into the show's not-so-wicked witch. I followed Menzel's career ever since she enchanted me as part of Wicked's original cast, and with the release of Frozen, I am happy that the world has finally recognized a talent the Broadway community has relished for years.

The first time I saw Frozen and heard Elsa's sweeping reclamation of independence, I immediately thought of Elphaba. I don't know if I would have made an instant connection if it had not been sung with that same resilient voice, but knowing Wicked as I do, it is impossible to ignore the soul of Elphaba resounding through the kingdom of Arendelle, permeating Elsa's words and actions.

Both Elsa and Elphaba -- who even have uncannily similar names -- start their stories as misunderstood daughters who must learn to control the strange, magical powers with which they were born. Menzel's characters both learn to withhold the most significant and unique pieces of who they are. While Elphaba's green skin makes her uniqueness more difficult to hide, both girls are subject to the same social and political isolation.

In both stories, the girls' powers gain strength through emotional distress, and the more each girl represses her magic, the stronger it becomes. They are misconstrued as wicked and each resorts to self-banishment as a means to avoid ridicule and pain. In the end, the only way each character can find happiness is by learning to love her true self and accepting her special traits as gifts rather than curses. Elsa and Elphaba come to symbolize the need for each of us to embrace our individuality.

Both Frozen and Wicked are also centered on the power of female friendship. In Wicked, the competing love that Elphaba and Glinda feel for the school heartthrob, Fiyero, is no match for the strength of their friendship. While male-female love is a factor in the story, the real love story is between the two best friends, who learn to appreciate one another's differences and use their varied strengths to help one another.

Similarly, Frozen's true love story is of the love between sisters. The entire second half of the film is devoted to thawing Anna's freezing heart through an act of true love. Everyone assumes that true love's kiss will seal the deal, but ultimately, it is Anna's heroic act to risk her own life to save her sister that softens her insides. While Anna does fall in love with a man, the film focuses on her relationship to Elsa in two fundamental ways: 1. Anna's desperation to reclaim the closeness she once had with her sister, never giving up no matter how strongly Elsa pushes her away and 2. Elsa's selfless act of hiding her powers, and thus herself, to protect Anna's life. Only through the love that these sisters feel for one another can Elsa finally discover how to control her magic and use it for good.

The climactic moment in each story comes when the heroine finally decides to embrace who she is even if it means being an outcast in her community. Menzel takes back her freedom through the liberated ballads of each girl, one who chooses to defy gravity and another who lets it go. The songs communicate almost identical messages. Check out a few of these parallel lines:

Elsa: It's time to see what I can do, to test the limits and break through.
Elphaba: I'm through accepting limits, 'cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but 'til I try I'll never know.

Elsa: Let it go, let it go, I am one with the wind and sky.
Elphaba: So if you care to find me, look to the western sky.

Elsa: A kingdom of isolation...no right, no wrong, no rules for me. I'm free.
Elphaba: And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free.

Elsa: It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small, and the fears that once controlled me, can't get to me at all.
Elphaba: Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost. Well if that's love, it comes at much to high a cost.

Elsa: Let it go, let it go, and I'll rise like the break of dawn.
Elphaba: Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity, and you can't pull me down.

I know I am not the only one who has noticed the Wicked-Frozen connection, but something about Menzel playing both parts has stuck with me on a greater level than simple comparison. It is beyond typecasting. Perhaps there is a total essence that only Menzel's voice can bring to characters like Elsa and Elphaba. Characters who stand out, after all, also deserve voices that do.

There is, however, one very important difference between Frozen and Wicked, and that is the endings. In the Wicked finale, Elphaba must fake her own death to prevent the villagers from killing her, and, after a tear-jerking farewell duet with Glinda, she goes into hiding, presumably for the rest of her life. While Fiyero joins her in eternal solitude, Elphaba is still forced to give up everything. Elsa, on the other hand, is able to prove her innate goodness and returns to her kingdom as queen, living happily ever after with her sister by her side.

These stories were released 10 years apart, and I can't help but view them as one continuous narrative. Whether or not the Frozen writers had Wicked in mind when creating the script, choosing Menzel to play Elsa has caused Elphaba and the snow queen to become intimately linked. To me, Elsa is a reincarnation of Elphaba, returned to life in another body and another land, but with that same, tortured soul yearning to break free.

Through Elsa, this soul is given another chance to get it right, and this time, instead of spending the rest of her life in solitude, Elsa finds a way to show the people of her kingdom that she can use her powers for good. Elsa becomes Elphaba's second chance at redemption and finding the community she deserves. Finally, after ten years of fighting for it, Menzel's tortured character found a way to be herself and also be loved by others.

I listened to Wicked on repeat for about five years straight, and these days I have had Frozen playing on my iPod over and over, in my car, in the shower, while I'm cleaning, on my run, and anywhere else that does not require silence. Every time I scream "Let It Go" alongside Menzel, I think of my 12-year-old self, poised on my bed with my arms in the air, declaring to my imaginary audience how I was flying high, defying gravity. But even through all the inspiration, I always felt a little sad when I remembered that Elphaba's decision to let her storm rage on led to everlasting isolation.

Elphaba's link to Elsa shows us that you can always find a way to maintain your individuality without giving up everything else -- even if it takes a decade to figure out how to do it. Elphaba never gave up on her beliefs. Like Elsa, she let it all go and didn't let the cold, judgmental hearts of her community stop her from feeling free. Now I know that choosing to do so did not sentence her to loneliness forever. Through Elsa, Menzel finally set Elphaba free, and I want to thank her for taking on the Frozen role and showing her longtime fans that it is possible to both be loved for simply being ourselves. I want to thank her on behalf of all of us who have waited 10 years to see a happy ending to Elphaba's story.

Housed at the Walnut Street Theater, a small, but intimate setting, the cast of Accomplice hurriedly prepared themselves as a steady crowd of people gathered in the lobby for a thriller of a play. Now in its third and final week, so far those who have seen it have enjoyed it, according to Kirsten Quinn one of the actresses in the play.

Written by Rupert Holmes and produce by Isis Productions, Accomplice is a theatrical performance filled with twists and turns from the very beginning until its surprising ending. The play stars Rob Hargraves, Renee Richman Weisband, Mark Knight and Quinn.

This show is a fun whodunnit with a murder, mystery and wacky British farce . Accomplice will keep the audience guessing until the very end.

It's difficult to say too much about the play without giving anything away and spoiling it for those interested in seeing it. Weisband's performance brings on the play's initial mystery and then we are led through sinister and humorous murder plot.

Quinn, a Community College of Philadelphia professor, plays a character who is a struggling, yet quirky actress who, as with many characters in the play, is not who she appears to be.

Learning who's who turns out to be the ultimate fun of being part of the audience.

Accomplice premiered on March 6 at the Walnut Street Theater in Philadelphia. The final shows will be showed this weekend and will be shown in studio five of the theater.

At the center of the Flushing Meadows Park in Queens, New York, the shiny Unisphere sits as a relic of the controversial 1964 New York World's Fair. Dedicated to "Man's Achievements on a Shrinking Globe in an Expanding Universe," one of the themes of the Fair that year, the Unisphere was one of many of the futurist architectural gems commissioned to celebrate the dawn of the space age and the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

Another development project funded in this effort included the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center. The inaugural tenants in 1964, George Balanchine and his already popular New York City Ballet, included Balanchine's The Nutcracker to be a part of the opening season repertory. One of the most spectacular productions in the company's repertory to this day, The Nutcracker is Balanchine's ultimate tribute to the magical hopes of youth.

Just a few years earlier in 1962, Paul Taylor was creating his Aureole, which the great late dance critic Clive Barnes once described as:

Perhaps his first major success, was the first time Taylor combined his loping antelope style of movement with baroque music, and its grace and individuality instantly spun into orbit throughout the world of dance. There is an interestingly variegated luminosity of spirit that recalls fluffy clouds on Shakespeare's summer's day.

Despite the political environment of the early 1960s, two of New York's leading dance makers were creating hopeful, joyful works.

Paul Taylor at work. (Photo by Whitney Browne)

After George Balanchine's death, New York City Ballet has continued to call the New York State Theater its home, renamed the David H. Koch Theater following a $100 million gift from philanthropist David H. Koch in 2008. Having a dependable home base makes marketing for the company much more simple, giving the dancers, staff and donors the chance to create a real community housed within four walls and consistent annual performance seasons. With a permanent home, Peter Martins, New York City Ballet's Artistic Director, can not only program a diverse offering of Balanchine and Robbins classics that make up the repertory of New York City Ballet, but also stand behind his belief that "choreographic exploration is what sustains the company and the art form itself, and NYCB continues to present new work as an ongoing part of its performance seasons."

If George Balanchine is, in many ways, a Godfather to American Ballet, then Paul Taylor is a Godfather to American Modern Dance. Mr. Taylor celebrates his 83rd birthday this year, and his 60th as a dance maker at the David H. Koch Theater, with 20 repertory pieces and two world premieres -- bringing his total body of work to 140 dances in his lifetime. Celebrated as "greatest living pioneer of America's indigenous art of modern dance," Taylor joined the Martha Graham Dance Company in 1955, as was invited by Balanchine to perform as a guest artist with his company during his collaboration with Graham on Episodes, before pursuing his own company that to this day bears his name.

Paul Taylor (Photo by Whitney Browne)

The Paul Taylor Dance Company is in the process of executing Mr. Taylor's legacy plan -- Paul Taylor's American Modern Dance. Its mission is to be an institutional center for American modern dance in the United States, "a place where a new generation of contemporary choreographers will be nurtured and showcased; where the masterworks of the genre's great pioneers are preserved and presented; and where modern dance -- an indigenous American art form -- is large audiences to be experienced and celebrated." This mission mirrors that of New York City Ballet in many ways, and in this light, it makes logical sense for these two internationally respected companies to find themselves as roommates.

Making the move uptown presents new challenges for Taylor and his troupe -- the repertory looks different on a larger scale, a similar artistic obstacle that Balanchine faced as well when making the move from the much more intimate New York City Center stage to the larger State Theater. Changing the focus from a single choreographer model (currently, the company exists to perform Mr. Taylor works) to one that has a focus for pushing boundaries of modern dance and building upon other dancemaster's works as well, the shift poses other questions as well. How will Mr. Taylor's heirs curate and maintain his style? What will Taylor-trained dancers, refined in expressing his vocabulary, do with works by other choreographers? In which directions will the company expand?

Paul Taylor in the studio. (Photo by Whitney Browne.)

Having attended multiple performances this season, I can personally testify to ongoing strength of the artistic product and reputation of the Taylor company. The dancers tackled an extensive and diverse range of works this season, showcasing the humorous, poetic, sometimes violent, romantic, sometimes queer, and yet always engaging sides of Mr. Taylor's artistic legacy. With this new initiative and new home at the David H. Koch Theater, Taylor joins Balanchine as an artist whose achievements we will continue to celebrate on a shrinking globe in our ever-expanding dance universe.

I take ballet class with a woman who is turning 90-years-old at the end of April. (And she's not the teacher -- she's a student, like me!)

Clearly, my Saturday morning adult ballet class is host to a diverse group. Some students are local dance teachers; some are yoga or Pilates instructors. Some are former company ballerinas and some are students in their teens. Then there is Nancy, an 89-year-old great-grandmother, in class to take the barre. I guess she's there for the same reason I am -- love for ballet's discipline and musicality, and, of course, for the great way it helps you stay fit.

Wearing her leotard and nylon warm-up pants, leg warmers and ballet slippers, Nancy begins the barre by facing the mirror and holding on with both hands. Though she needs both hands for support, she is quite competent as she goes through the plié combinations, tendu, rond de jambe and battement.

Nancy's leg may be low, and she might not bend all the way to the floor, but she works hard, is graceful and is really quite remarkable. (We all adjust our movements for age and capability.)

Does ballet class have an age limit? I hope not. Nancy makes us realize that at any age or any level, continuing to take class offers the benefit of maintaining flexibility, strength and endurance. Add in the ballet mind-game of combinations and patterns, and there you have it -- the full mind/body workout.

Age is just a number, right? On Saturday mornings we take class, and are the better for it.

A version of this post originally appeared on adriaballetbeat.com

Beginning with the trial and conviction of schoolteacher Mary Kay Letourneau for having an affair with an underage student, the national media have taken a predictably salacious view of affairs between female teachers and male students. But in his world premiere play, Firemen at the Echo Theater in Los Angeles, playwright Tommy Smith paints a more nuanced and penetrating portrait of the tragic dynamics of this illicit and illegal liaison.

Smith, who hails from Washington state, where the Letourneau case was a front page headline, spins a compelling tale of Susan (Rebecca Gray), a middle school secretary, a single divorced mom and Ben (Ian Bamberg), a troubled student. When Ben develops a crush on Susan, sending her notes with sexual overtones, Susan reciprocates by beginning an affair with the boy.

Ben falls quickly in love with Susan -- and she with him -- and this begins a descent for both of them, but most especially Ben, into a maelstrom of confusion and self-hatred. Ben gets no help from his own divorced mom (Amanda Saunders), who is self-involved and overwhelmed. The only bright light is substitute teacher Gary (Jud Williford), who offers some man-to-man advice to the struggling young man.

Smith writes with an easy and natural touch, but seizes on the painful and dramatic truth of this dangerous affair. He penetrates deep into the psyche of the adolescent Ben, as well as the stunted and narcissistic personality of Susan. Perhaps the most poignant scene is when Ben takes out his rage and sexual confusion on Susan's young son Kyle (Zach Callison).

This production is favored with a marvelous cast. Gray brings a harsh truth to her character, and Bamberg explores Ben's inner struggle with great scope and perception. Saunders and Williford are excellent as they portray two lost characters with real empathy and pathos. Callison also gives a wonderful performance as Susan's bewildered son. Director Chris Fields is peerless in guiding the performers through the tricky shoals of this material. In the end, Firemen offers a haunting and even inspiring perspective on a controversial and challenging subject.

Fireman plays at the Echo Theatre Company through April 13.

(*Awesome. I'm always looking for good books to read.)

Recently, I've had a spate of people contact me, looking for help writing a book. Not editing or grammatical help, thank god, but help more along the lines of: "I wasn't an English major...can I write a book?" Questions like this make my inner obnoxious teenager want to roll her eyes and say, "I don't know, can you?" Listen, you're the one who wants to write a book; why do you need my, or anyone's, permission? Your human experience is valid. What you have to say is as valid as what anybody else has to say. Get to work. Also, as you probably know, the best writing comes from confidence: You're the author, take charge!

But the more I coach, the more I understand that empty, so-called "motivational" phrases aren't helpful, and in actuality, can cause a great deal of anxiety to people who have something important to say, but are still developing the confidence to believe in themselves. With those good people in mind, here's some steps to help you get started writing. (When you thank me in the credits page of your best seller, please remember to spell my first name with one "T.") Good luck!

1. Tell a story you care about. I personally am not interested in genres; I'm interested in characters who are believable and interesting stories. I'm interested in ideas. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, and who buys books, accordingly. If you want to write a paranormal romance, or whatever, instead of speaking to ten different "book coaches," and asking them if there's a market for your work, i.e. asking strangers for permission, realize there's always a market for good writing. Alternatively, if you decide you're only going to write something "trendy" or a sure-fire hit...what exactly would that be? Not to mention, for every classic that changed people's lives, there's a million other people out there who roll their eyes at the same book. Can't please everyone. But if you care about your story, you'll present it in a way that makes other people care. Give people some credit: trends come and go, but good writing always finds an audience.

2. Make a commitment to write every single day. If nothing else, set the egg-timer for 15 minutes, turn off your phone, Facebook, Pinterest, silence all beeping devices and write. You can read a thousand and one books about how to write a book...or, you know, you could set aside 15 minutes in the morning or evening, depending on your writing personality, and start writing paragraphs. Paragraphs lead to pages. Pages lead to chapters. Get enough chapters and oh my goodness, what do we have here? You wrote your first book. (You're welcome, America.)

3. You have to make the time in your life for this book TODAY. Life won't wait. It drives me crazy to hear people say, "Well, one day, I kinda want to write a book." One day when? If it's hard to write a book today, why on earth would you think it'll be easier in a year or three? No, the longer you wait, the harder it'll get. The less confidence you'll have. If you want to write a book decide that SOMEDAY is TODAY, and set aside 15 minutes today, RIGHT NOW, and start writing. Tell fear to get fucked, and commit to your better angels. Write an outline, write the first paragraph, write a title page. Write something and make your book become a little bit more alive. It's a process. But you have to get started to begin the process.

4. Write more, ask for permission less. If you feel you're not qualified to write a book until, for example, you graduate from the Iowa Writers' Workshop, understand that what you're really doing is giving yourself an excuse to not write. How likely is it that you'll get accepted to some prestigious workshop, or get an agent? Thus, how likely is it you're going to be able to avoid writing the book inside of you? Listen, you're not cheating anyone but yourself. But I think you deserve better.

5. Don't worry about being published, getting an agent, or anything like that. Just. Write! If you decide that you're not going to write your book because, well, Carlota, the publishing industry is in tatters, and um it's really hard to get published, and hey is that my phone ringing, I gotta go...Listen, you don't owe me any excuses. It's not my dreams you're destroying. You're just hurting yourself, and the people who might have loved your writing. Before you decide that you can only write if William Maxwell is your editor, how about you just simma down and start writing. If you can only do something if you're 100 percent sure it'll work out perfectly...how do you get up in the morning? How do you live your life? There are no guarantees in this weird, messy, frenetic, heartbreaking, marvelous world of ours.

Relationships come and go, friends drift away, people we love die, we age and life, inexorably, continues. For every published author's book you see in the stores, you know how many other unpublished, unreadable, failed manuscripts he might have in a box in the basement? Maybe he had to write all those books to get to the book that worked. Does that mean that the other books were failures? No, failure is giving up, or even worse, never starting. The other thing, that thing about trying again and again, that's called life. You're going to have to believe in yourself, and the importance of your story and commit to that. You're going to have to accept that no, not everyone will like your book, but there will be readers who will stay awake all night to finish your book, feeling a little less alone in the world. What a triumph that would be!

True story: when I was 17, I wrote a one-act play that went on to win the 1991 Young Playwrights Festival, and be produced off-Broadway, under the direction of Mark Brokaw. I wrote a one-act play about characters that interested me for me. The play is about two men in prison, so clearly it did not arise from my personal experience. It came from reading (almost) every play in the New York Public Library, and writing about people who interested me. Then, with my playwrighting teacher's help, I submitted the play to the Festival and won. If I had written a play to be popular, or if I had decided that well, I'm 17, what the hell valuable do I have to say, I would have lost out on some life-changing experiences. Start writing and stop censoring yourself! (Get to work. Seriously.)

Finally, I urge you to write the book(s) inside of you, because if nothing else, that process, and the confidence, hope and pride it brings is bound to change at least one person's life...yours.

If any of these hints helped you get started writing, I'm truly thrilled. If you have your own hints, awesome, please tell me in the comments, or, if you're feeling shy, don't hesitate to email me at carlotazee@gmail.com!

It's safe to say that when you hear the name Aladdin, the popular word association is Disney's beloved 1992 animated blockbuster based on a timeless Middle Eastern fantasy. But what you may not know is that the hugely popular film was also roundly criticized for relying on stereotypes and clichés at the expense of the cultures in which the fairy tale is set. The last twenty years have transformed how mainstream entertainment in the United States has come to understand and integrate Middle Eastern culture into popular American entertainment. So when Disney Theatrical approached the challenge of adapting the classic action adventure film into a Broadway musical comedy, its creators wanted to make sure to neutralize stereotypes with inclusivity and nuance, and to make the new stage production more relevant to contemporary understanding of the people and cultures of the region.

One important step that Disney took to address concerns and potential controversy was to bring BoomGen Studios on board to consult on the show. BoomGen Studios is a Brooklyn-based storytelling factory and incubator. We are often engaged by studios and networks to consult on projects related to the peoples and cultures of the Greater Middle East. At Disney's invitation, BoomGen has served as cultural and story consultants to Aladdin since October of last year. We have read every version of the script since then. Different members of our team have seen the show in various iterations beginning with its previews in Toronto. And at every step, we provided feedback to the Aladdin team.

The Broadway retelling of the Aladdin story is naturally different from the animated feature on which it's based -- and, in our opinion, for the better. It is essentially a Horatio Alger tale of luck, redemption, and proving one's worth that just happens to take place in a fantastical and wholly imaginary Middle East. Put simply, Aladdin on Broadway has greater depth, maturity, and cultural awareness than the film.

Yet instead of crediting Disney for its positive efforts, some in the Middle Eastern community and media have become transfixed by a rumor based on an anonymous blog post alleging that Disney intentionally neglected to cast anyone in the show of Middle Eastern descent. Others went so far as to accuse the company of having an agenda to deliberately exclude Middle Easterners from the creative process, and for not even hiring any Middle Easterners to consult on the show. Of those who took aim at the supposed Disney-Aladdin casting conspiracy, not one thought to see the show (judging from their commentary), and more unnerving, not one bothered to contact the company for comment or clarification. Simply put, the creative team of Aladdin was presumed guilty because Disney hired them.

The accusation that no one of Middle Eastern descent was included in the production's creative process is incorrect. To be sure, BoomGen was not involved in the production's casting, but this was the first question we asked. Disney as a rule practices what is called 'color blind casting' - meaning they don't ask the ethnicity of cast members before, during, or after the casting process. The practice is both a norm and a topic of debate within the Broadway community, because it's meant to help ethnic actors audition for non-ethnic roles that make up the vast majority of available work. It's not always easy to pick out someone of Middle Eastern ethnicity based on their appearance or name; unlike some continue to suggest, Middle Easterners are not all brown -- not by a long shot. Regardless of where one stands on colorblind casting, we can safely confirm that there's no secret agenda to not cast Middle Eastern talent in Aladdin.

The truth is we don't know if any of Aladdin's 34 cast members are of Middle East descent, and we don't know how many Middle Easterners auditioned for Aladdin. According to Disney Theatrical 3,000 people auditioned for the show in five major U.S. cities. The obvious result of this wide outreach effort is the self-evident ethnic diversity of Aladdin's cast. To be sure, the industry still has problems with ethnic representation and cultural diversity on stage. And the Middle East community has a long way to go to be adequately represented in the creative arts. For we at BoomGen Studios, the concerns are almost always in the content regardless of who plays the part. While it's important to be vigilant, it's equally (if not more important) for our community to increase its participation and investment in the creative fields like other minority communities have done -- be it culturally supportive, financially or otherwise. Middle Eastern communities need to do a better job of encouraging our next generation of singers and dancers and writers. If we want our stories represented by Middle Eastern actors, then we need to be more active in supporting entertainment and talent within our own communities.

To demonstrate the point, let us take this opportunity to acknowledge and celebrate the highly talented Iranian performer, Ramin Karimloo, in his critically acclaimed Broadway debut in Les Miserables as Jean Valjean (a Frenchman). That is why BoomGen Studios was built: to create a collaborative environment that facilitates better storytelling, and also showcases and advocates works and artists that demonstrate such progress, like Aladdin. It is why we support this show. It is why you should too.

Many people have, over the years, told me that I shouldn't judge a book by its cover. But no one ever told me that I shouldn't judge a sunset (or sunrise) by its beauty. After all these years, a group of scientists finally pulled the curtain off of the golden lights of dawn and dusk.

On March 25, the Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics journal published an article that addresses pollution in art. Soon I'll talk about that, but first a bit about the Arctic.

It was a cold November evening, in 2011. I was at a dinner gathering at the home of Peter and Helen Goddard. At the time, Peter Goddard was the director of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. I was engaged in a conversation about--pollution in art -- with art historians Christopher Wood of Yale University and Nicola Suthor of Freie Universität in Berlin. The question we were trying to figure out is this: Does a red sunset always mean that there is pollution in the air? The eminent theoretical physicist Peter Goddard stood there in silence, listening to our conversation. Perhaps he was curious about how a group of art folks would go about resolving a physics question. Even though I was "Once a physicist" and had an opinion on the subject, we art folks didn't conclusively resolve the question that evening.

At the time I was a director's visitor at the Institute, working on the anthology, Arctic Voices: Resistance at the Tipping Point (Seven Stories Press, 2013). Here is an excerpt from my introduction in the anthology, "From Kolkata to Kaktovik" that directly relates to that November conversation.

Musk oxen in the haze of a toxic north, Canning River Delta, Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, Alaska. Photo by Subhankar Banerjee, 8 May 2001.

There is a kind of Arctic pollution that a photo helped me to understand. Upon seeing one of my photographs people have asked, "Are these colors real or manipulated?" The photograph in question is of a group of musk oxen on the Canning River Delta that I had taken in early May 2001, in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (see here). The temperature was about minus 35 degrees Fahrenheit; deep haze severely restricted visibility, as I lay flat on my belly with the lens touching snow to make the animals visible, barely. Indeed, I began to wonder how could there be such vibrant colors in an environment that is supposed to be free of pollution? I remember from my childhood many colorful sunrises and sunsets in Kolkata, where pollution in the air was all around us; it still is. There had to be particulates in the air to create those deep red-orange colors in the musk oxen photo, and I surmised that the source of the pollution was perhaps the nearby oil fields of Prudhoe Bay, but on probing further I also came to know about the Arctic haze that a handful of scientists have been studying. I don't know if what you see in the photo is indeed Arctic haze or pollution from Prudhoe Bay, but, nevertheless, a fact sheet states:

"Arctic haze is a thin, persistent, brown haze that causes limited visibility on the horizons of what had been previously very clear Arctic skies. It is most visible in the early spring and can be seen from northern Greenland, the Arctic coasts of Canada and Alaska, and occasionally in eastern Siberia. ... The Arctic haze that accumulates by late winter, trapped under the dome of cold air, is as large as the continent of Africa! ... Arctic haze is made up of a complex mix of microscopic particles and acidifying pollutants such as soot, hydrocarbons, and sulfates. Up to 90 percent of Arctic haze consists of sulfates. ... We can find out where Arctic haze comes from because the chemicals that make up Arctic haze are like a footprint that can lead us back to their sources. The main sources of the sulfates found in Arctic haze are things like power plants, pulp and paper mills, and oil and gas activities. The other pollutants found in Arctic haze can be traced to industries such as vehicles, shipping and agriculture. The places in which these industries occur, and where these pollutants thus originate, are in the heavily populated and industrialized areas of Europe, North America and Asia."

The question is: What is the long-term stress acidification from Arctic haze might put on the fragile Arctic ecology? While we don't know this yet, the haze might also be contributing to the rapid polar melt. "Industry, transportation, and biomass burning in North America, Europe, and Asia are emitting trace gases and tiny airborne particles that are polluting the polar region, forming an 'Arctic Haze' every winter and spring. Scientists suspect these pollutants are speeding up the polar melt," the Science Daily reported in 2008.

Lindsey Konkel has written a wonderful article, "Old Masters' Paintings Hide Clues to a Past Climate" in Climate Central's The Daily Climate, to bring attention to the study by the German and Greek scholars. Her lucid prose makes their academic paper more accessible for the larger public.

The researchers have "analyzed 124 sunsets painted by European artists between 1500 and 2000." Apparently during this period there was fifty large volcanic eruptions, and the scholars found that "reddish hues in sunsets spiked during periods of volcanic activity."

The red, and other warm colors, during dawn and dusk, arise from scattering of light from particulates, called aerosols, in the atmosphere. Aerosols can come from varieties of natural and anthropogenic sources, including volcanic eruptions, forest fires, dust storms, agricultural burning, natural gas flares, soot from vehicles and coal-fired power plants, and burning of trash.

"Paintings may provide reliable estimates on aerosols in the atmosphere at times before instrumental measurements," Christos Zerefos, the lead author of the study and professor of atmospheric physics at the Academy of Athens in Greece, wrote in an email to Konkel. This is an important affirmation that art can provide valuable information for scientific analysis.

The team analyzed the "sunsets painted by famous artists as proxy information for the aerosol optical depth (AOD)." The data gathered from this analysis "significantly correlated with independent proxies from stratospheric AOD and optical extinction data, the dust veil index, and ice core volcanic indices." The researchers concluded that the "increase of AOD at 550 nm calculated from the paintings grows from 0.15 in the middle 19th century to about 0.20 by the end of the 20th century."

Scientists have been using plant stomata as a proxy to build a picture of the paleoclimate that goes back tens of millions of years. In a similar way, by using historic paintings as a proxy, the scholars in Europe maybe building a picture of, not only aerosols in the atmosphere during volcanic eruptions, but also a portrait (of pollution) of the industrial human.

Konkel points out that according to the researchers, "the deeper the red in the painting, the more pollution in the sky at the time."

The red and orange colors in paintings, such as Joseph Mallord William Turner's Red Sky and Crescent Moon, circa 1818, and Casper David Friedrich's Woman before the Rising Sun (Woman before the Setting Sun), circa 1818, can likely be linked to the 1815 eruption of Indonesia's Tambora volcano. "That eruption scattered particles high into the atmosphere that produced bright red and orange sunsets throughout Europe for three years," Konkel writes. These paintings provided a clue to past atmospheric pollution due to volcanic eruptions.

Casper David Friedrich' Woman before the Rising Sun (Woman before the Setting Sun), circa 1818 (source: Wikimedia Commons).

Furthermore, the team also found that "depictions of sunsets have gotten redder from the Industrial Revolution onwards, even during periods of no volcanic activity," Konkel writes. "Artists, they suggest, are inadvertently capturing increases in pollution during the past 150 years."

In the muskoxen photo, I too had inadvertently captured the increase in pollution, in the far North.

Aerosols, natural (volcanic eruption) and anthropogenic (Atmospheric Brown Cloud over Asia), are known to cool the earth temporarily, by reflecting back part of the incoming solar radiation. The anthropogenic aerosols that contain black carbon (Arctic Haze and the Atmospheric Brown Cloud), however, can have significant warming effect.

Irrespective of its impact on the climate, anthropogenic aerosols from coal-fired power plants, natural gas flaring, and other industrial sources have very significant health impacts.

"In India alone, about two million people die each year from conditions associated with atmospheric pollution," according to a 2002 UNEP report, Asian Brown Cloud: Climate and Other Environmental Impacts.

Furthermore, Iñupiaq cultural activist Rosemary Ahtuangaruak wrote in her testimony in the Arctic Voices anthology that in her community, Nuiqsut, in Arctic Alaska, between 1986 and 1997 there was "a 600 percent increase in respiratory patients in a village of 400 people." As a community health aide, she was able to analyze the cause:

"What was contributing to this increase in respiratory illnesses? The most overwhelming issue was that oil development around Nuiqsut had increased, and had gotten closer. The worst nights on call were nights when many natural gas flares occurred. Those flares release particles that traveled to us. Increased concentrations of particulate matter from flares occur during inversions, a bowl-like trap, with cold air trapped by warm air."

The UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has just released the "Climate Change 2014: Impacts, Adaptation, and Vulnerability | Summary for Policy Makers" report. I don't want to overstate the significance of art in addressing the Himalaya of environmental injuries that surround us today. I do want to point out, however, that while scientists have been telling us about earth's climate in the deep past, and into the distant future, artists on the other hand, have been bearing witness, in the present. They always have.

Crossposted with ClimateStoryTellers.org

On Saturday March 29, 2014 I captured an art world star-studded cast of luminaries at The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA as part of my continuing N(art)rative Series; a series that captures the important happenings in the art world through my photo essays. Here are a few pictures from that night.

The MOCA Gala at The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA. Photo by EMS.

FROM THE PRESS RELEASE: MOCA announced today that its 35th anniversary gala will be held on Saturday, March 29 at The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA in celebration of the museum's recent fundraising success, independence and the appointment of MOCA Director Philippe Vergne, welcoming guests from around the world to a preview of the highly-anticipated Los Angeles homecoming exhibition, Mike Kelley.

The gala will be chaired by MOCA Board Co-Chairs Maurice Marciano and Lilly Tartikoff Karatz and MOCA Founding Chairman and Life Trustee Eli Broad. MOCA Board Chair Emeritus Maria Arena Bell, MOCA Trustee Peter Brant, Valérie Chapoulaud-Floquet, President and CEO, Louis Vuitton Americas, Larry Gagosian and MOCA Board Vice-Chair Eugenio Lopez will serve as gala honorary chairs. NJ Goldston, Carolyn Powers, Sutton Stracke and Orna Amir Wolens will serve as gala dinner chairs.

Nancy Rubins and Chris Burden. Photo by EMS.

Joy Bianchi. Photo by EMS.

"With our new director Philippe Vergne and our fantastic partner Louis Vuitton, we are so excited to celebrate MOCA's outstanding achievements and to present the important homecoming exhibition Mike Kelley at MOCA," said MOCA Gala Co-Chair and Board Co-Chair Lilly Tartikoff Karatz.

Irving Blum (center). Photo by EMS.

"Louis Vuitton is committed to sharing our creative passion with the communities we serve. MOCA has been a partner in that endeavor from the innovative Young Arts Program, to the intimate Art Talk series. We look forward to supporting MOCA's 2014 gala and celebrating this partnership in the Los Angeles community," said Valérie Chapoulaud-Floquet, President and CEO, Louis Vuitton Americas.

"This is the beginning of a new era at MOCA. We look forward to celebrating our extraordinary accomplishments at the MOCA gala with our friends of the museum from around the world, and especially with our new director, Philippe Vergne," said MOCA Gala Co-Chair and Board Co-Chair Maurice Marciano.

Mr. Chow. Photo by EMS.

Lari Pittman and Roy Dowell. Photo by EMS.

Shepard Fairey. Photo by EMS.

Paul Schimmel. Photo by EMS.

In the past decade, MOCA's annual galas have included the notable 2007 MURAKAMI Gala, a collaboration between Takashi Murakami and Louis Vuitton. This memorable gala was the beginning of MOCA's strong relationship with Louis Vuitton. In recent years, generous support from Louis Vuitton for MOCA has included the MOCA Louis Vuitton Art Talks series and the MOCA Louis Vuitton Young Arts Program, an immersive arts education program for teens.

Larry Gagosian and Chrissy Erpf. Photo by EMS.

Werner Herzog. Photo by EMS.

The MOCA Board of Trustees recently announced that in less than ten months, it had met and exceeded its goal of raising the museum's endowment to an historic high of over $100,000,000, securing both financial stability and its independence as the only public museum in Los Angeles dedicated solely to collecting and exhibiting contemporary art. With its newly-appointed director Philippe Vergne set to lead the museum into its next chapter as one of the most important international contemporary art museums, the MOCA gala chairs, honorary chairs and partner Louis Vuitton invite national and international guests from the worlds of art, design, fashion, film, music, architecture and culture to join them in celebrating the exceptional legacy and the future of MOCA. (END PRESS RELEASE)

Doug Chrismas. Photo by EMS.

Yvonne Schimmel, Mark Bradford, and Paul Schimmel. Photo by EMS.

Phillipe Vergne. Photo by EMS.

Marnie Weber, Danna Ruscha, Bobby Gersh and Ed Ruscha. Photo by EMS.

Bobby Gersch and Ed Ruscha. Photo by EMS.

Ed Ruscha and Wener Herzog. Photo by EMS.

Jim Shaw. Photo by EMS.

Chrissy Erpf, Eli Broad and Larry Gagosian. Photo by EMS.

Larry Gagosian. Photo by EMS.

Eli Broad. Photo by EMS.

Lita Albuquerque and Michael Kohn. Photo by EMS.

Dita Von Teese and Liz Goldwin. Photo by EMS.

Ed Ruscha, Ed Moses, and Danna Ruscha. Photo by EMS.

RETNA. Photo by EMS.

Pharrell Williams and Helen Lasichanh. Photo by EMS.

(This article is part of an ongoing photojournalism survey of art exhibition openings in SoCal titled EMS N(art)rative. Through my lens I document a photographic essay or visual "N(art)rative" that captures the happenings, personalities, collectors, gallerists, artists, and the art itself; all elements that form the richly varied and textured fabric of the SoCal art world. This reconnaissance offers a unique view for serious art world players to obtain news and information on the current pulse of what's in the now, yet capturing timeless indelible images for posterity and legacy. Here is EMS N(art)rative Seven.)

March 25-31 at the Joyce

It takes more than a good share of talent, energy and choreographic expertise to deliver 65 minutes of non-stop exhilarating movement, but the 20 dancers of the Ballet du Grand Théatre de Genève delivered just that on Tuesday night at the Joyce. Their rousing and breathtaking presentation of Andonis Foniadakis' Glory had everything that truly excellent dance should have: technique, innovation, charisma, acting ability and an uncanny knack for showcasing both individual dancers as well as a sense of cohesion and team work.

The Swiss, in fact, have a long and storied dance tradition which deserves to be better known stateside. It incudes Béjart of course and Dalcroze, and was influenced as well by Diaghelev's Ballet Russes and the fabled Vaslav NIjinski himself. The Ballet du Grand Théâtre de Genève (the name itself is a mouthful) is its premiere contemporary institution and rightfully so. In the past century, it has put on classical ballets, as well as works by contemporary choreographers such as Lucinda Childs, Nacho Duato, Mats Ek, Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui and Benjamin Millepied. Most recently, under Tobias Richter and Philippe Cohen's inspired direction, it continues to bring some of the world's most cutting-edge choreographers to the stage.

Greek-born choregrapher Andonis Foniadakis' presentation of Glory was as much about music as movement. Julien Tarride's masterful remix of Handel presents the German master like never before. In movement after movement whether Ombre Mai fu, Dixit Dominus and even the Hallelujah Choir from the 1751 version of the Messiah the 20 dancers jived and rock and rolled on stage in subtle, melodic and sometimes pounding combinations. The strongest presence choreographically may well have been Duato's, which resonated in the dancers' mastery of modern and neoclassical combinations as well as in the wonderfully deconstructed baroque costumes by Tassos Sofroniou and inspired lighting design by Mikki Kunttu. Foniadakis also easily wove in elements as disparate as Martha Graham foreshortening of movements an unmistakable take on American or Scottish jigs.

The Messiah after all is about the coming of a savior and here the audience is treated to the interplay of light and darkness, white and black, perhaps even good and evil --elements that are mirrored in the contrapuntal movement itself. Everything is at once precise and Helvetic, passionate and Hellenic as well. Legs spread, bend and twist and arms flail as dancers leap or arms spread into the air. Whether synchronic and balanced or oppositional and out of kilter, movement is repeated, undone and repeated again in subtle variations until everything comes together in one, dare I say it, glorious whole. The performance is sensual as well: at one point towards the end of the hour long revel, one of the female dancers (Sarawanee Tanatanit?) is held aloft in a split position and carried forth in erotic annunciation by the very toned and handsome male members of the troupe -- she seems to revel in the physicality of both the dancers and the light that descends upon her. As elsewhere in the piece geometry was prominent as pyramids, circles and more intricate figures formed and unraveled. A bit slow-moving perhaps at first, Glory gradually quickens and crescendos with grace and fervor. As with any art form, dance depends in no small part on honesty -- here the dancers seemed to genuinely enjoy themselves and take joy in channeling Handel outwards into a receptive audience.

It would be unfair to single out a particular dancer not simply because all twenty performers were so good, but because under Foniadakis' direction they achieved a fine approximation of the definition of ensemble itself, each dancer an equal part supporting the whole. So here in a rare show of admiration, let me take the space to list them all: Céline Allain, Louise Bille, Fernanda Barbosa, Ornella Capece, Andie Masazza, Virginie Nopper, Yu Otagaki, Angela Rebelo, Sara Shigenari, Sarawanee Tanatanit, Daniella Zaghini, Loris Bonani, Natan Bouzy, Aurélien Dougé, Paul Girard, Vladimir Ippolitov, Xavier Juyon, Nathanaël Marie, Geoffrey Van Dyck and Nahuel Vega.

The only thing one could have hoped for was that the Ballet du Grand Théatre had performed at the Joyce for a more extended run, so that New York could take in their talent and enthusiasm more fully. Perhaps next year?

Heathers the Musical proves high school is a killer -- literally.

Twenty-five years ago, the teen cult film starred Winona Ryder and Christian Slater in a twisted tale of adolescent cruelty and angst. Now, the '80s movie has been revamped into an off-Broadway musical at New World Stages.

Co-written by Kevin Murphy (Reefer Madness) and Laurence O'Keefe (Legally Blonde), the pop musical recreates evil Westerberg High in Sherwood, Ohio, where the three clique-mad Heathers -- ringleader Heather Chandler (a convincing Jessica Keenan Wynn), Heather McNamara (Elle McLemore) and Heather Duke (Alice Lee) live to humiliate their classmates.

The three witches are joined by two bullies, dumb jocks Ram (Jon Eidson) and Kurt (Evan Todd) who get their comeuppance, courtesy of bad boy J.D. (Ryan McCartan), who orchestrates the ultimate revenge fantasy.

Veronica (a terrific Barrett Wilbert Weed), a popular but unhappy girl, worries about boyfriend J.D.; he's sexy but oh, so troubled. Then again, in this high school of horrors, mockery and violence are child's play. Yet the pop score never sings the blues in any deep way, a mixed opportunity. If you miss the lyrics, due to the decibel level, you can't miss the thrust: dark comedy commingled with pathos. Even when the musical turns macabre, the score maintains its frenetic pop pace and intense, monochromatic lighting.

The movie's distinctive phrases -- "How very," "What's your damage?" -- remain, as does Heather Chandler's red scrunchie. The sad, horrifying aspects of being 17, "freeze you brain, who needs cocaine," J.D. laments at 7-Eleven, home of his beloved Slurpee -- are all on parade.

Which is why Heathers the Musical will click with fans of the movie -- it's aimed at bringing a millennial crowd into the theater. Marguerite Derricks' choreography isn't inspired, but it is lively, while director Andy Fickman keeps the action in high gear.

Photo: Chad Batka

April 2014

Re: An Open Letter to Elaine Stritch

Dear Ms. Stritch,

I'm not unique, per se. I'm just another one of your fans who has spent many years idolizing you for your work in theater, cabaret, television and film.

However, rather than pining over your illustrious career that's already been well documented, I do want to share something publicly for the very first time, that you helped me with, that's changed my life, and has given me new hope, perspective and strength.

Viewing your At Liberty DVD one day, I finally acknowledged the nagging voice in my head that told me I had a drinking problem. Your stories resonated with me, many eerily familiar, like when you spoke about being a heavy drinker but trying to limit yourself to two drinks a day. "Two drinks a day. It doesn't work," you said: "Not when you want eleven. And not when you start shopping for wineglasses in the vase department at Bloomingdale's."

For readers less acquainted with Ms. Stritch, her drinking is a part of Broadway lore. Even Cheyenne Jackson, a recovering alcoholic himself, said at his concert this past weekend that when asked if he had ever been drunk on stage, he responded, no, jokingly adding, "I'm not going to pull an Elaine Stritch."

For the most part, I could function. My drinking was just one of my "quirks," so carefully managed behind closed doors, or by those who love me. However, their support was misplaced, albeit innocently, making excuses for me, carefully navigating me around parties, or literally carrying me home to sleep it off before work the next day.

You've told the story about how Judy Garland famously quipped, "Elaine, I never thought I'd say this, but goodnight." I have a suspicion that if I were there with you, you'd soon say the same to me, if one of my handlers hadn't already poured me into a cab.

It was so carefully managed, I figured I could go on forever, until I heard your story of being an insulin-dependent diabetic (which you've implied was brought on by alcohol), yet continuing to drink until you had a "major diabetic hypoglycemic attack," desperately needing sugar. That you were allegedly so soused, you collapsed in the hall at the Carlyle Hotel, and if a mini-bar waiter hadn't passed by, luckily with a Pepsi on his cart, you might not be alive today.

I suddenly realized that alcohol is a dangerous friend; it's fun in small doses but can literally take over, and end your life. The key is when you're like us and "two drinks a day" is just not possible. It becomes three, then four, then that becomes two or three bottles of wine.

Liza Minnelli has spoken publically about this too, that alcoholism is a disease and she, like me (and maybe you too), feel differently when we drink. While some people relax, we are the opposite and feel "great" or, as I say, "like a bucket with a hole that can never be filled."

I appreciate how Cheyenne Jackson puts it, that he hid his alcoholism behind "intense, deep shame," (a comment I can personally related to) but once he took that step toward change, he was amazed by the inner strength he found, and what he could do, "if I pull myself up."

(I applaud Mr. Jackson for his strength, and being so open about his personal battles. We need more current role models like him, to inspire others, including his throngs of adoring Broadway and pop music fans.)

Whatever the feeling I, or anyone reading this, has when drinking, I want you to know, Ms. Stritch, that since that reported experience at the Carlyle Hotel helped you to stop, I decided to give up drinking too. You inspired me.

It was hard at first, but I'm proud to say it's been two years since my last drink. I've had a lot of support, including my amazing partner, friends and from God -- but I also often think about your story and say, "If Elaine Stritch can do it, so can I." In a way, you became my unofficial "sponsor."

With adoration for you as a performer, as well as appreciation for how you helped changed my life, I jumped at the chance to be a backer for the documentary of your life Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me. It's an incredible film, but I do want to say that I was disappointed to learn that you are drinking again.

According to the New York Times, "As a recovering alcoholic, Ms. Stritch, after more than two decades of sobriety, decides to allow herself one drink a day, usually a cosmopolitan. She seems to be abiding by her rule, though it can't be easy."

I'm not your manager nor your maker, so it's really none of my business. However, in the past you've admitted you have trouble limiting your alcohol intake. To quote, "It doesn't work!" So, what has changed now?

In fact, after your incident in the hall at the Carlyle Hotel, you said "all of a sudden, there's God so quickly... I quit.. and I am not, this time kidding around. Party's over."

Ms. Stritch, you are a national treasure, and remain a memorable icon for many generations to come. However, I hope to see you around for many more years, and ask that you to look back at your own admission, and reconsider your alcohol intake.

You were there for me (remotely, via DVD), and I'm here to offer it in return, if you ever need support.

Additionally, for anyone reading this who may feel they have a problem, please know that there's always people willing and able to help. As hard as it is to admit you have a problem, it makes it that much easier to take steps toward finding a resolution. Acknowledging it is the hardest part.

If you do believe you have an issue with substance abuse, please contact Alcoholics Anonymous at www.aa.com or Narcotics Anonymous at www.na.org. You can even contact me for support at my website, below. I'll do what I can to help direct you to the correct resources. You are not alone.

Regards, and with admiration for Ms. Stritch and anyone who finds the strength to overcome substance abuse,

Steve Schonberg
Editor-in-Chief, Center On The Aisle
www.centerontheaisle.com

Two juicy titles recently debuted at the annual Association of Writers and Writing Programs Conference in Seattle this year, MFA vs NYC: The Two Cultures of American Fiction and Now What: The Creative Writer's Guide to Life After the MFA edited by Ashley Anderson Zapp, Michael Bayer, A.J. O'Connell, Erin Corriveau, Adele Annesi and Jean M. Medeiros. This may put you in a quandary. With trying to fit writing into your already full life, and reading on top of that, are they worth reading? Fortunately, I devoured both books over my spring break and I can help you with that. If you're a true writing geek, someone who's devoted herself to wedging writing into her life because she simply can't imagine it any other way, someone who's driven by having something she desperately needs to say, and who's committed to saying it whether or not she has loads of time or money, you can skip MFA vs. NYC but Now What might be just what you need.

I'll admit, my expectations were high for MFA vs. NYC, perhaps a bit too high. The minute I heard about the book, I breathlessly pre-ordered it from Amazon in late January and began counting the days until its release. If this sounds a little, well, geeky, to you, let me confess right now that in addition to being a writing geek, I'm also a geek when it comes to the history of creative writing in higher education, right up to the present day. The Elephants Teach, The Program Era, I've studied these books and many more and even written my own, and so I fully expected MFA vs. NYC to be the next volume in an informal series of sorts, a current, nuanced view of creative writing as expressed in higher education and in the publishing scene. And when one of the essays in the book, "The Pyramid Scheme," Eric Bennett's elegant investigation about, among other things Iowa Writing Workshop Director Paul Engle's CIA connections during the Cold War, was leaked in advance of publication, I thought my hopes might have been realized. Then Carla Blumenkranz's essay, "Seduce the Whole World," revealing infamous creative writing teacher and editor Gordon Lish to have been a megalomaniac monster, followed and I wasn't so sure. It was decades ago that Lish's controlling, insatiable ego (and sexual appetite) dominated the lives of would-be writers willing to pay thousands to be victimized by his teaching, but the essay reads as if these egregious practices would fly in creative writing programs today. I would argue that, by and large, they wouldn't, in part, because creative writing programs have actually changed a great deal since that time (and are still changing) and in part because today's students wouldn't stand for that kind of teaching. Growing up in a post-Anita Hill landscape, most of them know exactly how they should be treated in the classroom and in the workplace.

Which really gets at the main issue I have with MFA vs. NYC: it already seems out of date. In fact, one of the best essays in the book, "The Fictional Future," not surprisingly by David Foster Wallace, was published in 1988. 1988! Over 25 years ago! For better and for worse, the creative writing terrain has changed vastly since then -- publishing this essay in a volume that purports to describe the current culture is misleading at the very least. Additionally, other essays that describe publishing careers begun over 15 years ago (and dwelling on those early days) or chronicle lost years spent frittering away a $200,000 advance (hint, if you want to live on a $200,000 advance for more than a few years, don't live by yourself in New York) feel likewise outmoded. Of course, there were a few highlights: besides Bennett's piece, there's also Alexander Chee's wistfully elegiac description of his time at Iowa, "My Parade," and Lynn Martin's uncharacteristically (for the book) upbeat portrait of her work as a publicist at St. Martin's, as well as a few other bright spots. But on the whole, in its striving toward a sort of hipster cynicism, MFA vs. NYC simply comes off as overwhelmingly, disconcertingly passive.

By contrast, if it's genuinely useful information you're looking for, from people who, like you, are trying to keep body and soul and writing together, Now What is probably what you're looking for. Disclaimer: Now What is a publication of the five-year-old low-residency program at Fairfield University in Connecticut and was written for people who have graduated from an MFA program. In fact, it seems particularly aimed at those graduating from a low-residency program, who are more likely trying to fit a writing life in with other careers. However, I think it's also a useful volume for anyone considering or pursuing such a program. I plan to assign it to my students in the future and gift it to those I've already taught. And even if, after reading it, you decide such a program is not for you, you'll have learned a great deal about building a writing life along the way.

As program director Michael Bayer explains in his introduction, Now What "grew from a pamphlet addressing the needs of our graduates to a 300 plus page book with over forty contributors." Not surprisingly, emerging from a desire to be both "authentic and practical," what I like most about Now What is how proactive it is, declaring, as I tell my students all the time, "a good writing life after your program begins during your program" and then providing an abundance of resources that detail how a writer can take the reins and make that life happen.

Although a number of the contributors to Now What do make their living in teaching, writing, editing and publishing, they are also realistic about the kinds of conditions writers work in today, as demonstrated by sections with titles like "Life Happens: How to Keep Writing Anyway," "Writing Reality for Breadwinners" and "Health Insurance for Writer.s" It is this realism that aligns them to the writing geek creed*, best expressed by a quote from Baron Wormser's essay in the book, Life Comes First: "We get to live a life and write. We get to know some other people who feel about writing as strongly as we feel... What more could we ask?"

What more indeed.

*I have not yet written the "Writing Geek Creed" but this quote surely aligns with it in spirit.

Graphite Drawing #4, 2010; Graphite on paper, 25 x 19 inches

ART GIRLS opens 10 ACHTUNG BERLIN at the Babylon Kino in the Mitte of the post-unification art scene.

Billed as a romantic science fiction film genre-hopping into satire, ART GIRLS amounts to a full scale invasion trumpeting the emergence of new archetypes along with brave symbols of German/global integration: here the collapse of the beloved GDR remnant, the 1970s Sputnik style TV Tower.

As the newest creation of the avant-garde filmmaker, Robert Bramkamp, ART GIRLS evolved out of two previous films conflating Sumerian mythology with German reunification...

The Thomas Pynchon inspired Prüfstand VII applying the Avital Ronell and Laurence Rickels provocative (r)evolution of Kulturindustrie theory into a new cinematic invention: the documentarian deconstruction of the archeology of the rocket via a female "interventionist" Bianca (Inga Busch) modeled on Inanna, the ancient Sumerian Love Goddess.

His following film, Der Bootgott Vom Seesport Club, delivered the Aquarian male archetype of Enki into the former GDR...

www.enk100.net: where geography becomes destiny. Enki (Steffen Scheumann) superimposing the geography of the UNESCO biosphere Spree delta south of Berlin with the Tigris-Euphrates delta of ancient Sumer, the original E-din.

"Do you know what they called a blow job in Sumer?" asks the beautiful nurse. "Penis kiss."

ART GIRLS is chock full of such gems, including earthworms (!), referencing the rebirth of an ancient archetype. As with Sumer, the authenticity of the icon originates at the source.

Integrating the opposites in the former DDR: Filmmaker Robert Bramkamp and the multi-media artist Susanne Weirich, in their Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood cafe, have evolved their enduring partnership into a new global vision merging art, science and life with their genre-busting film fantasy. (Photo by LPS)

In the ART GIRLS (r)evolution, the high chakra palette adorning the film's protagonist signals the newly arising Aquarian archetype...

Plowing the new fertile field of the androgynous Aquarian archetype: Nikita Neufeld (Inga Busch) as a biodigital hybrid, past and future...

...poised at the crossroads reflected by the first of seven (the magical number!) tarot card "interventions" of "The Fortunetellingmachine" an interactive slide and sound installation which premiered in Haus der Kunst (2001)...

The King Kong phantom motif of Nikita's nemesis, Uma Queen (Megan Gay), is a metaphor for the unbridled greed in the art world.

ART GIRLS sifting through the sands of time: the German actress Inga Busch as Nikita Neufeld and the American actress Megan Gay as Uma Queen masterminding their assault on the post-unification Berlin art scene.

Even as it creates a fantastical story bringing art into everyday life via a quantum human evolutionary leap, ART GIRLS memorializes the vast raw urban spaces that made Berlin the destination for artists the world over.

Male Erected: Peter Lohmeyer (Peter Maturana/Laurens Maturana) as the mad genius twin "cured" from the dangerous fallout of his experiment by a "sex and art" collaboration with Nikita initiated in a live video contract implicating the audience as co-conspirators.

The word for "art" in German is "Kunst." This harsh sounding word drums a percussion vibration into ART GIRLS and presents a bold new dialectic for academics to ponder: could it be possible that KUNST, the modernistic goal projected out of German idealism is derived from KUNDALINI, the mysterious invisible power that drives genius?

The underlying quest takes narrative form with two mature female artists racing against the body clock to risk everything in a collaboration with the opposites, in the form of a pair of twins operating a shady biotech company seeking the elixir of life which turns their attention from the test tube to art.

By anchoring this excavation in such an ingeniously innovative, yet humorously entertaining weave of German thought within a genre-free narrative, ART GIRLS is clearly a global cultural signpost for the art of the 21st century.

Bolstering the authenticity of ART GIRLS genre shifting is the connecting thread of the visionary artworks of the film's co-producer, multimedia artist Susanne Weirich. Blending multiple mediums, her forms marry mysticism and realism into artifacts transmitting how very precarious was the journey for women to overcome the tension of opposites in order to transcend into a holistic feminine archetype...

Mitte is where art and sci-fi merge over Aquarian dead bodies: the "illuminated" curator in wheelchair experiences the Weirich/Nikita "Angels in Chains" installation conflating Charlie's Angels with Charlie Manson's hippie cult.

The essential THIRD element enters the narrative after Nikita connects with the "collective narrators" who inform her that she is the vessel for the "New Nature." Thus, the brave leap that Nikita makes is both personal and universal, delivering the Aquarian icon into the collective consciousness by way of its very container: ART GIRLS.

The five faces of Venus: Weirich's five channel "Silent Playground" installation enters the ART GIRLS narrative as a passage to Nikita's awakening...

...made symbolic here with the toppling of the beloved Berlin landmark...

...establishing a new threshold for interactive art that - incredibly for a feature film - actually drives a (r)evolutionary narrative.

ART GIRLS opens the Berliner Festialpremiere auf dem 10.achtung!berlin Festival -- New Berlin Film Award 2014 at Kino Babylon (Berlin Mitte) at 20:00 on April 12, 2014.

TESTSTAND 7 (PRUEFSTAND 7) and Der Bootgott vom Seesport Club are available online for download or stream.

ART GIRLS still photos used with permission of filmmaker Robert Bramkamp, owner of the copyright.

Lisa Paul Streitfeld is a cultural critic/philosopher whose three decade search for the newly constellating Aquarian archetype has landed her in Berlin in perfect timing with the ART GIRLS (R)evolution.

Opera lovers have been on the edge of their proverbial seats waiting to hear the latest about yet another company having trouble. No sooner did the news of the New York City Opera bankruptcy moderately settle, and the Minnesota Orchestra go back to work, than the 49-year San Diego Opera abruptly announce that it is closing. This news hit about ten days ago, and I purposely have refrained from commenting due to lack of a real picture.

A few weeks ago, I served on a committee at the umbrella organization Opera America, reviewing grant applications for operas by women composers supported by The Virginia B. Toulmin Foundation. Opera America has funds for everything from audience and repertoire development, to support for new works. This committee consisted of a musician/conductor, two composers, a stage director, librettist and myself. The two days reviewing over 130 applications (Encouraging to know there are that many female composers interested in the art form.) It was one of the more dynamic informative experiences I have had recently. A frequent discussion centered on what exactly defines an opera today. Many of the works submitted were more of a prolonged song cycle with instruments. Others were multi-media presentations first and foremost. We whittled the grants to under ten works. I do not speak for Opera America as I write, and these are my own thoughts, which apply to the situation mentioned in the first paragraph above.

OPERA: THE RECIPE

STEP ONE: Start with one or more singers, not miked. There is no opera without singers. Period.

STEP TWO. Add accompaniment -- which can be with just piano or just a few instruments or with a full orchestra or even electronic or ethnic instruments.

STEP THREE: Mix in a story -- an opera really needs a story -- an arc that has a beginning, middle and an end, as Oscar Hammerstein once said when defining a song. Older works often are composed to a libretto with a poetic meter and later they evolved to be more prosaic. Both have to have a dramatic line, one that draws an audience into caring about the characters and quite often with a conflict and a resolution. It need not be literal and can be symbolic.

STEP FOUR: Slowly add stage direction and movement.

STEP FIVE: Add money and stir.

OPTIONAL INGREDIENTS:

Scenery: Depending on the size of a theater, it can be quite extensive and with multiple scenes. Some early Italian operas actually took place at homes of patrons, some even employing the use of exterior locations, courtyards, what have you.

Costumes, props, makeup, wigs: suggested but not always necessary.

THE MENU:

Please note: Flavors and portion sizes of and operas are extensive.

Depending on your budget, there are a variety of meals available, all good for the heart. High-calibur singers are available with all menu items.

The appetizer: $

There are pieces with a few instruments and excellent singing in a small setting, sometimes a bar or a museum. The singers are often young, but not always.

Small, flavorful plates: $$

There are some very successful companies of various sizes that produce opera in more intimate settings, with simpler production elements highlighting the drama and the singing. There are many wonderful singers today who are amazing actors, as well, and who look their parts.

The five-course meal: $$$

Opera has evolved over the last century to become a large art form that is costly to produce due to that many facets not to the least of which are size of theater, new technology for the visual aspects and more and more people involved in the production of it. Hundreds of people help to make an opera in one of the "big" houses (The Met, Lyric Opera of Chicago, San Francisco Opera, to name a few). Scenery is often built from scratch and will fit in anywhere from five to twenty semi trucks. Costume shops make amazing costumes with every detail paid to the period. Then, of course, the orchestra musicians, varied sized chorus if required, stage managers, lighting and scenic designer, conductor and stage director, stage crew, makeup and wig people, dressers and then all the supporting administrative staff. International "stars" often appear at these companies. The experience attending an opera at one of these companies is thrilling with the spectacle alone, not to mention the great singing that accompanies it.

Does the five course meal need to be the default model? The answer is no. It is my opinion that only a few companies in the world can continue with this type of production and these are the ones that are the oldest, most donor-supported and well-endowed.

The scope of opera can be as large as a Las Vegas show. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." It does not necessarily always belong elsewhere. There are some very successful companies of various sizes that produce (or should start to produce) in more intimate settings, with simpler production elements highlighting the drama and the singing. There are many wonderful singers today who are amazing actors as well. Just because they do not have a publicity machine behind them does not mean they are not worth experiencing. By the same token, there are many singers who are in high demand who are willing to tailor their fees to suit the situation.

For all of the above, it is important that the art does not stray from the sound of the unadulterated human voice as much as possible. I would really hate to see this lost as it pretty much separates opera from all other art forms. In a world of high tech "reality," this is all the more important.

A healthy lifestyle, with diet and exercise leads to longevity.

We need to get on the arts treadmill, cut out the fat and keep its heart healthy.

First Nighter: Kathryn Forbes' I Remember Mama Well Remembered

How to Start a Movement: A Movie Review of 'Chavez'

The Angle on Nymphomaniac: Vol. I

Bouncing Off the Brick Wall

How Idina Menzel's Portrayal of Frozen's Elsa Finally Set Wicked's Elphaba Free

Accomplice

An Expanding Universe: Paul Taylor's American Modern Dance

Does Ballet Class Have an Age Limit?

Firemen at the Echo Theater in Los Angeles

So, You Want to Write a Book?*

What's Right With Disney's Broadway Adaptation of Aladdin

Beautiful Sunsets (and Sunrises) in Art

MOCA Gala 35th Anniversary (PHOTOS)

Ballet de Du Grand Théâtre de Genève: Holla, the Swiss Are in the House!

Stage Door: Heathers

Praying a Broadway Baby Quits the Booze

The Geek's Guide to the Writing Life: MFA vs. NYC vs CT

Nicola Tyson on the ImageBlog

"ART GIRLS" (R)evolution in Berlin

Chew On This: Operatic Mastication