This Saturday, Oregon Ballet Theatre (OBT) is hosting a free arts shindig “Fall-ART-Live” in its studio and out in the parking lot of its home base at 818 SE Sixth Avenue (between Belmont and Morrison).
The event will include short performances and studio workshops for both kids and adults. Most of the performances will be dance oriented (OBT, Polaris Dance, Linda Austin Dance, Josie Mosely Dance and Northwest Dance Project), though the Portland Opera is also on the roster. The workshops cover dance and theater. Do Jump! is in the mix, as is one of my favorites, Philip Cuomo (Portland Actors Conservatory and Third Rail) teaching “Body Imagination: An Intro to Physical Theatre.”
OBT has offered space and tables for other arts organizations to promote themselves and answer questions. Look for some of Culture Shock’s friends from Miracle Theatre, Portland Center Stage, Oregon Cultural Trust., Live Wire!, Mississippi Studios, White Bird and others. If you drop by in the afternoon between 2-3:30, I’ll be pulling a shift at the Oregon Children’s Theatre table. And if that’s not enough, you’ll find a beer garden (Bridgeport) and food from purveyors such as Bunk Sandwiches, Koi Fusion BBQ and the ubiquitous Voodoo Donuts.
OBT threw the event together quickly in the aftermath of its wildly successful Gala fundraiser and emergency appeal earlier this summer. The event is inspired by the organization’s new-found commitment to engaging the community, and is also intended to partially fill the gap created when it cancelled this year’s “OBT Exposed” which has been putting a rehearsal stage smack-dab in the middle of Portland’s Park Blocks for the past decade or more.
Over at the Mercury’s Blogtown site, Stephen Marc Beaudoin posted a jaded take on the event. Under the classy headline, “Fall.Art.(Dead?),” Mr. Beaudoin yawns and smirks at the whole thing. He seems to have gotten the impression that the OBT-initiated event is supposed to be a “new city-wide arts fest.” While OBT does call Fall-ART-Live a “festival,” nobody is seriously pretending that it’s anything more than a day-long arts fair and it's unfair to prejudge it as anything else.
In a follow-up comment Mr. Beaudoin points out that “many of the organizations hawking tickets at the event opted out of providing performers.” (In his post, these organizations are there to “pimp their wares”). Makes those organizations sound kind of sleazy and cheap, doesn’t it? Where do they get off not performing anyway?
How about if we try phrasing it this way: “Many of the organizations that were unable to perform are happy to have a chance to distribute information, meet the public and advocate for the arts.”
Dear readers, there’s a fine line between good-natured acerbic wit and just plain dickishness. Do me a favor and remind me when I step over that line. Which I will. Except that I'll claim it's just my world-weariness showing.
Good news from Conduit, the dance incubator of Portland, announcing today that they have raised $14,500 toward their critical goal of $15,000. I was out of town for the benefit performances -- any scuttlebutt from our readers?
So Conduit lives another day. But what does the new fiscal year look like for you? Are you, like OBT, 1/3 smaller than you were before? (That would mean an annual budget of $30K, barely enough to pay for the air conditioning.) Or will you "grow up" and "be taken seriously?"
Arts organizations that provide services more than performances tend to have a difficult time explaining their unique critical role in the community. In many ways, RACC and BCA fall into this category, too. What do they do, anyway? Do we really need them? Is Conduit just a middleman of the dance community, and an undercapitalized subsidizer of dance space -- or rather a vital, essential developer of new works and a hub for the emerging dance community? I see the value, but it's time to articulate it to the rest of the community and get past thinking of Conduit as the city's "Best Kept Secret." (Portland Monthly's Light-A-Fire Award bestowed to Conduit in 2006.)
Has Culture Shock given you more arts advocacy than you need or want? Are your gullets glutted with our pro-arts sentiments?
Perhaps you're already sold on the notion that arts and culture are societal salves --balms to cure economic catastrophe, reverse rampant underachievement, and assuage the anomie of the aimless. If so, our relentless advocacy may smack of beating a horse that already drank the Kool-Aid.
Or, heavens forfend, some of you may not be buying it at all. You've heard all the arguments in favor of the arts and all you can say is "pish posh" and "pizzletwist." For you, the arts are nothing more than a shiny charm bracelet--a little gris-gris stuffed in a juju sack to make us feel better. Or you think the arts are elitist and unable to survive in the rustle-tussle of the marketplace. "The fat lady has sung, " you declare. Enough said. Period. End of story.
To every one of our dear readers, it's my duty to tell you that we're duty bound to be hidebound on this issue. What would you have us do? Throw up our hands and throw in the towel?
Every once in a while, somebody famous says smart things about the arts that are ... well ... more eloquent than anything we can say. Rachel Maddow, for instance. That MSNBC pundit says smart things all the time--about all kinds of issues. She recently spoke at Jacob's Pillow, the annual contemporary dance festival in the Berkshires, and shared this brilliance with the audience:
Sometimes we choose to serve our country in uniform, in war. Sometimes in elected office. And those are the ways of serving our country that I think we are trained to easily call heroic.
It’s also a service to your country, I think, to teach poetry in the prisons, to be an incredibly dedicated student of dance, to fight for funding music and arts education in the schools. A country without an expectation of minimal artistic literacy, without a basic structure by which the artists among us can be awakened and given the choice of following their talents and a way to get to be great at what they do, is a country that is not actually as great as it could be.
And a country without the capacity to nurture artistic greatness is not being a great country. It is a service to our country, and sometimes it is heroic service to our country, to fight for the United States of America to have the capacity to nurture artistic greatness.
Not just in wartime but especially in wartime, and not just in hard economic times but especially in hard economic times, the arts get dismissed as ‘sissy’. Dance gets dismissed as craft, creativity gets dismissed as inessential, to the detriment of our country. And so when we fight for dance, when we buy art that’s made by living American artists, when we say that even when you cut education to the bone, you do not cut arts and music education, because arts and music education IS bone, it is structural, it is essential; you are--in [Jacob’s Pillow founder] Ted Shawn’s words--you are preserving the way of life that we are supposedly fighting for and it’s worth being proud of.”
Though Maddow's statement is spreading on the interwebs, I credit the website Dancing Perfectly Free as the first place I spotted it. The photo is by Christopher Duggan.
As I mentioned in the preceding post, today is the start of a new fiscal year for many nonprofit organizations. The accountants are all hung over and sleeping under desks, their heads resting on curls of adding machine tape. The beginning of a new year seems like a good excuse to bring back the video dance mashup that premiered on the Culture Shock Channel exactly six months ago.
Long-time Culture Shock readers will have fond memories of the post in which I bade farewell to 2008 (“Get the hell out of here old man!”) and welcomed 2009 (“Look! It’s a baby wearing a top hat!”). Many of you have been clamoring to see my tribute video again, wanting to relive the moment. New readers are saying, “I wish we were around when Culture Shock was still new and fresh and all the cool kids were reading it.”
After my film (can I call it a film?) premiered, I had a dream in which one fan wrote, “I sure hope someone will post this video again in … say, six months.” I asked a palm reader whether I should post it again; she said, "All signs point to YES!"
This post is dedicated to all the arts organizations struggling to stay afloat in these troubled times. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to update the titles and remix the soundtrack to “Billie Jean.” For young readers, the funny man at the beginning of the film used to be the President of the United States.
Well let me just say that saving a ballet company has never been so much fun! Last night's emergency gala fundraiser performance, Dance United, thrown together in three weeks flat, was an extraordinary evening of dance and community involvement. The audience was a who's who of arts supporters, and the dancers were, in a word, amazing.
Bodyvox founder Jamey Hampton emceed the event, and reminded audiences what a watershed moment this really was for the company and for the arts in Portland. He reported that the ballet was $690,000 toward their $750,000 goal, so it appears that the immediate crisis will soon be over and that the ballet can begin rolling up its sleeves to do the hard work of presenting the 2009-2010 season while bringing down the organization's accumulated deficit of approximately $1 million. The organization will be about 28% smaller next year, but I don't think any of that will be evident to audiences, and lots of little things are taking place behind the scenes to help reduce the organization's operating expenses, including concessions recently made by the PCPA to reduce the user fee (basically a ticket tax) from $1.50 to 50 cents per ticket for all three major users (the ballet, symphony and opera) for the next few years. (PCPA also donated the hall for last night's benefit.) Many folks are anxious for an announcement regarding the fate of their somewhat controversial lead executive, Jon Ulsh, so that's something to keep an eye out for this summer.
But enough on the administrative details. Let's talk dance.
The program opened with OBT's "Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude," which was a little short on exactness for my taste, but the costumes were fun. (Is that being too harsh?) John Michael Schert of the Trey McIntyre Project was brilliant in a short excerpt of some Peter, Paul and Mary in "Leatherwing Bat." Bodyvox performed third with their lovely, haunting Victorian fantasy, "Falling for Grace."
Ballet West gave us a beautifully performed pas dedeuxfrom "White Swan," followed by Aaron Rogers who represented the Joffrey Ballet fantastically with his "Aria," which was visually intriguing as he danced in and out of his mask. More visual stimulation followed in the form a silly little Linda Austin Dance number, performed by David Bragdon, Peter Bragdon, Scott Bricker, Peter Ames Carlin and James Harrison with fish on their heads. This dance provided a light interlude before OBT returned to the stage with a pas dedeux from "Almost Mozart." Here, the heart and soul of OBT shone through brilliantly -- Alison Roper and Ronnie Underwood were exquisite. Absolutely exquisite.
New York City Ballet took the stage to close the first act, and let me tell you. What. A. Treat. Their "Tarantella" was as energetic and athletic and flawless as a person could ever ask for. Dancers taking flight. I've heard it said that OBT is a Balanchine company, and at first I thought they were only referring to the style of Nutcracker they present. I'm still not quite sure exactly what it means, but if this is ballet and if this is Balanchine then I want a permanent box seat. Even if I have to fly to The City for every performance.
At intermission I did the obligatory mingling -- you know, the major arts leaders, the press, the mayor, blah blah blah -- and everyone was absolutely beaming with enthusiasm and renewed confidence in the organization and the power of dance. As I took my seat for the second half, I noticed that it was a very full house -- only a few empty seats at the far back of the first and second balconies.
After a brief video designed to loosen more of one's purse strings to ensure OBT'ssurvival, Pacific Northwest Ballet performed a lovely pas dedeux with "Diamonds," and Minh Tran & Company danced beautifully with excepts from "Kiss." Houston Ballet, the country's fourth largest ballet company, gave us an absolutely fantastic performance in "Falling," a Mozart pas dedeux.
Chauncey Parsons from OBT gave us a brief and delightful variation on "Don Quixote," followed by Oslund + Co. and their trademark ultra modern style. "Antatomica," Oslund's newest piece, was performed very well here and resonated in the large Keller hall better than I thought it might.
Next up: Boston Ballet. "Zero Hour," from Vivaldi'sFour Seasons, was as impeccable a ballet as I have ever seen, choreographed by the very dancers who performed it here last night. I apologize that my description here could never do it justice, so I won't even try, but I'm still trying to find out if/when Boston has performed this number before, since the program notes don't list a premiere date like most others. Boston was followed by ZdenekKonvalina of the The National Ballet of Canada and a Greek dance that was thoroughly charming and inventive.
The San Francisco Ballet gave us "After the Rain," one the most technically precise and beautiful dances of the entire evening. Sometimes I lose my attention with these slower dances, but I was completely transfixed on the artistry of these two beautiful dancers. And then, to close the show, OBT came out with their big-company number, the third movement of "Rush," choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon. A fine exclamation point on a truly remarkable evening.
Clearly, I am not an aficionado of dance and I fear that my comments may have revealed some of my ignorance of the form, which is why I invited my next-seat neighbor and a smart little cookie in her own right to provide a follow-up review and commentary this weekend. Look for it here soon. I also see that in the time it has taken me to write this post, Barry Johnson has given us his complete run-down at Arts Watch. Have a look.
In the meantime, this much is certain. OBT and their comrades from across the country gave us an amazing gift last night, and I am confident that the citizens of this City will return the gift in spades and support OBT's shot at a second life.
Don't you hate it when technology fails you? I arrived at work this morning to find my computer stuck midway through some kind of automated Microsoft Office update. (We're told to leave our computers on at night so Microsoft can access them for such things). Encountering some kind of error, it left my computer in a suspended state where I could neither complete the installation nor access any of my Microsoft programs (including Word and Excel, which I rely upon daily, but especially Outlook and all of my emails, contacts, and calendar information now held hostage).
Handy Andy, our trusty IT assistant, tells me that portions of the hard drive are ruined, and set me up with some workarounds including a temporary laptop with a facsimile of my Outlook (with data that was thankfully is stored on a network not my hard drive). But can I just say how frustrating it is to take twice as long to do things on a machine that is not set up to my preferred specifications? It reminded me the extent to which customization is important in our daily lives.
With Mighty Toy Canon enjoying a much deserved holiday and me dealing with these maddening computer issues, I only have time today to point Culture Shock readers to pertinent conversations taking place elsewhere, especially Barry Johnson's continued top-notch coverage of the ballet situation, including the earliest of conversations about what happens after the ballet raises this first critical hurdle of $750,000, plus fresh new fundraising ideas provided by PCS publicity manager Tricia Pancio. (And thank you, Tricia, for recognizing the Red Dress Party's fantastic front of house divas and talented fundraisers in their own right, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence!)
Speaking of the ballet, I've heard from several folks today who are frustrated that the $50 tickets are sold out and only $75 and $150 tickets remain -- in the back of the second balcony at that. Well, those and the multi-thousand dollar box seats. Now part of me says, first come first served when it comes to saving the ballet, and if you didn't get your $50 tickets and that's all you could afford then you're just going to have to miss out. But I'll be interested to see if the ballet actually manages to sell those last 900 tickets if they're as costly and distant as I hear they are.
Mr. Johnson was also first to share that Giving USA has published their annual tally of philanthropic giving, which shows that 2008 experienced a 5.7% decrease in giving when adjusted for inflation. The other thing worth noting here is that once again the arts lost a little more market share of all charitable giving (a trend since the 1980s) -- and what are we going to do about that?!? I have high hopes that a PR campaign to secure a dedicated funding mechanism for arts and culture in the Portland region in the next 2-5 years will also spark increased giving to arts organizations locally as an "unintended consequence" of the heightened awareness and visibility.
Meanwhile, you may have noticed (but probably not) that I have decided to discontinue my Last Call Friday installments because it's bad form to encourage in any way this behavior of procrastination. Instead I will endeavor to better encourage (and be encouraged by) folks to attend really great performances and exhibits earlier in their run. Plus, some weeks, I'm sorry, but there's nothing worth mentioning that's closing. In fact sometimes I have to restrain myself from writing an "hasta la vista" column.
Lastly, I am honored to have been invited to be a contributing author to the Americans for the Arts blog ("ARTSBLOG"), specifically when it comes to telling you all about what's going on at the AFTA national conference being held in Seattle next week. This year's conference theme is "arts in sustainable communities," and I'll certainly be cross-posting several of my reports here on Culture Shock as well, but hop ofter to AFTA from time to time, too, to see what other conference participants are saying. There's some other really interesting content posted there on a regular basis.
I've been sitting on this post for three days for two reasons: (1) Not enough time to refine my thinking and edit the damn thing; and, (2) Reluctance to risk apostasy among my art advocate colleagues by raising uncomfortable questions. Here goes anyway.
If you've already read the Oregon Ballet Theater (OBT) story Barry Johnson broke on Portland Art Watch last week, you have my permission to skip this quick recap:
OBT has said that it must raise $750,000 by the end of June if it is going to keep its doors open. The company has fallen short of budget targets for the year. To blame are the snows of Christmas that buried sales to the Nutcracker and a precipitous drop in contributions. The drop in revenue has emptied the OBT coffers and left a long list of past due bills. Despite efforts to trim the budget midstream, the Ballet has come up short at the end of the year. More specifically, it appears that it has run out of cash, with no reserve funds and no access to a line of credit. Welcome to the Great Recession. I know OBT is not alone, locally or nationally (see Culture Jock's report from earlier this morning). By the way, this isn't just a nonprofit arts problem; this kind of cash crunch is also killing off plenty of for-profit businesses that would otherwise have sustainable business plans).
With Gandalf-like guidance from George Thorn, everybody's favorite arts consultant, OBT has reportedly pared its budget for the upcoming season by 28%, including trimming staff positions and pay, reducing the number of dancers, curtailing live music for most of its program, etc. That budget is conservative in its assumptions (theoretically) and, to use Portland's favorite word-of-the-moment, "sustainable." The problem is that OBT needs help to get from here to there. It needs a quick cash infusion to finish out this dismal year so it can start afresh in July. The call for help has been issued far and wide, so consider going here to give what you will.
When the Oregonian ran Barry Johnson's column on the front page of the print edition and the OregonLive home page, the story incited a flurry of nasty comments (134 to date) from the booboisie, including one from this paragon of reason: "In a town like Portland with so many strip clubs- why would ANYONE want to watch girls in leotards dance?"
Those opposed to doing anything for OBT mount several arguments: (1) Ballet is a dying, elitist art form with no value to the community; (2) Ballet bores me, so it should die; (3) The marketplace has rendered its judgment on the value of ballet; (4) OBT deserves to close because it has been grossly mismanaged by overpaid people; (5) Everybody is suffering in this recession so why should OBT catch a break? Clearly, we have a lot of education and advocacy to do.
Many strong counterarguments have been made in support of saving OBT. Rather than repeat those, I refer you to Jamey Hampton at BodyVox, Bob Hicks at Art Scatter, and Barry Johnson at Portland Art Watch. I also just listened to a compelling interview with OBT's Artistic Director, Christopher Stowell on a podcast from Metroscope PDX (Entercom).
Before going further, let me be perfectly clear in saying that I like OBT and think it deserves to live. However, there are a few questions I think need to be answered. The community is being asked to pony up to save the company, but have been given scant financial information upon which a reasoned (as opposed to an impassioned) decision can be made. In all the public reporting, very little has been explained about the company’s financial status, other than coupling the need for $750,000 with a threat of closing the doors. Here are the questions I think prospective donors should ask:
(1) What portion of the $750k is needed just to pay current bills?
(2) How much will be left to pay past due accounts?
(3) Will there be enough cash left to continue paying current bills until new cash starts to come in the door?
(4) Is there a middle ground? What if OBT manages to raise only half of the target?
(5) Would a bridge loan provide the infusion of capital OBT needs to get over this hump?
While OBT’s new budget may be conservative and balanced, cash does not typically flow in and out of an arts organization on an even schedule. Many count on spring subscription sales to provide the cash to keep afloat until the season gets underway in autumn and single ticket sales and contributions start flowing in. OBT's immediate problem appears to be a cash crisis, not a budget issue. Even if next year's budget is sound and sustainable, will the company have enough cash to pay the bills over the next few months?
If I were a major donor, I’d want answers to those questions before I invest in OBT's future by writing a big check. I presume that major donors are already asking these questions and getting honest answers from OBT. So what about everyone else? I posted my questions as a comment on Portland Art Watch, and Barry said he'd check with OBT for some answers. I'll let you know what comes back.
The more I think about this topic, I realize that OBT is just an example of a bigger issue. I'm more interested in questions of transparency, information sharing and the relationship between an organization and its public. I'm interested in hearing more honest dialogue, rather than spin.
I understand why nonprofits want and need to cultivate positive, confidence-building public images. Who wants to buy a subscription if you think the company might fold before you can use your tickets? Who wants to make a contribution if the money is just going to pay off creditors before the doors are shut anyway? It's hard to sell tickets and garner contributions when doubts about one's viability exist.
Of course, we can't be expected to air our dirty laundry all the time. But I keep hearing that in this age of instant communication and social networking we need to be ratchet up our transparency and information sharing. We have to cede some control over our image and our secrets, including being willing to show signs of weakness or failure. When you've declared that you are on the verge of closing the doors of an important institution, I think it's time to lay the books bare. On the other hand, maybe I'm just trying to satisfy my personal curiosity and satisfy a latent urge towards schadenfreude.
Would the loss of OBT diminish Portland? Yes.
Can OBT be saved? I don't know. I just don't know.
Lest you think our ballet's struggle is something unique to Portland, Time Magazine this week gives us a glimpse of how arts organizations across the country are struggling mightily. Have a look-see.
And, in response to some of the comments left here on Culture Shock about how you can help the Ballet with its current situation, may I direct you to Bob Hick's very fine four-point plan. I can't help but feel like this is all some kind of reverse metaphor for an episode of Grey's Anatomy in which, shortly after a patient comes into the ER, we realize that there may or may not be anything the doctors can to to help. Seriously: he is badly broken, with life-threatening injuries to almost every part of his body, and, for added drama, we learn that the patient has some deep moral flaw that gives some of the doctors pause about whether they should even bother operating with full vigor and resolve. But the code of conduct for this situation, like our own impulse, is always the same: let's get the heart beating first, and we'll figure out what to do with the patient if and when he recovers from the immediate trauma.
Barry Johnson has posted his story that the Oregon Ballet Theatre is on the brink:
Oregon Ballet Theatre has become the first of Portland's major arts groups pushed to the wall by the global recession. Unless the company raises $750,000 by June 30 to cover expenses and pay creditors, it may have to close its doors. "It is not clear that we will survive," said Jon Ulsh, the company's executive director
Again: how time flies. And before we know it, these too will be gone:
El Gritodel Bronx is in its final performances at Miracle Theatre. It's a "memoryscape" of a brother and sister and their abusive father. Sounds gloomy and grisly, I know, but the reviews have been great. Closes Saturday.
OBT has been getting strong notices as well with its intimate performance in the Newmark Theater, Left Unsaid. Bob Hicks explains it all for you in his review, and you've got five more chances to catch it, with 2:00 matinees on Saturday and Sunday, plus evening performances on Friday, Saturday and Sunday at 7:30PM.
Have you ever been to the Art Gym at Marylhurst University? There's a fun film and video installation going on now that may entice you: "Guys Doing Guy Things" by Oregon artists Mike Bray, Dan Gilsdorf, Mack McFarland and Stephen Slappe features projected images, interesting installation art and integrated sculpture. Ends Monday.
Many are anxiously awaiting the announcement by Profile Theatre of who their featured playwright will be next year. Hopefully someone more interesting (if less prolific) than Neil Simon. Stop by their announcement party on Monday at 5:30 at Theater! Theatre! to be among the first to find out. It's free.
Although my own cultural journey will take me on a different path this weekend (including "Crazy Enough" at PCS, the CAP art auction, and "Left Unsaid" at OBT), here is a run-down of mighty fine offerings that will close in the next few days, so get 'em while you can.
Mighty Toy Cannon has already encouraged you to enjoy "Chunky Moves," Australia's thrilling, genre-defying dance company presented by White Bird at the YWCA (1111 SW 10th). Final shows Friday at 8pm, Saturday at 2pm and 8pm, and Sunday at 2pm and 8pm.
Oregon Repertory Singers closes their 2008-09 season with 4 Classics and a Premiere, including Haydn’s Creation, Handel’s Messiah, Purcell’s Come Ye Sons of Art, the final movement from Mendelssohn’s Symphony #2, Lobgesang, and, you guessed it, a new premiere. Sunday at 3:30 and Monday at 7:30 at the First United Methodist Church (SW 18th and Jefferson).
There's also a PlayWrite performance on Monday night (7:30 at Miracle Theatre) in which young writers from Portland Night High School will direct professional actors in a staged reading of their original works. Admission is free.
I just rolled in from the performance of "Two Faced Bastard" by the Australian dance company, Chunky Move--the last company to be presented by White Bird in its "Uncaged" series this season. This time White Bird took over the gymnasium at the 10th Avenue Athletic Club at the YWCA on SW 10th.
Here are three excuses for not writing a real review tonight:
1) I don't want to give anything away because it's a show full of surprises and secrets.
2) It's late and tax day has wrung me dry.
3) The house was swarming with real critics like Martha Ullman West and Marty Hughley, and that may have been Barry Johnson I spotted across the gymnasium.
(I suppose, "swarming" is a bit of hyperbole when talking about three people, but notice how putting those names in boldface type classes this post up a little. I could list whole bunches of boldface names I spotted at the performance and make this a regular society column if I wanted to).
So quickly: I was grinning the entire time. The show is a mix of theater and dance -- choreography with touches of Pinter, Beckett and Kafka, a little exegesis on the nature of performance and art, and some slapstick. Oh, and a battle scene that leaves the stage strewn with debris, and a solo that is achingly beautiful. The audience sits on opposite sides of the gymnasium. A slatted curtain divides the stage with different action happening on each sides -- some hidden, some seen in flashes only, some spilling between the two halves. At midpoint the house lights come up, the action is paused and the audience is invited to move to their opposite side if they so choose. (I stuck with the northsiders throughout). White Bird is offering to sell a $10 ticket to anyone with a ticket stub who wants to see the show again from a new angle. I bet they're going to have a lot of takers.
Hint and/or spoiler: I was completely satisfied with what I experienced from the north side. However, while we spent the first 10-15 minutes witnessing a kind of panel discussion with only glimpses of dance (the women next to me took the opportunity to read her program and fidget), the other half of the audience was treated to a solo beautifully danced by Stephanie Lake(or so I was told). But really, there were parts that we saw that they missed, and Ms. Lake does another solo turn at the end. And the panel discussion was quite absurdist. In other words, pick a side, enjoy what you're seeing and imagine what's going on across the curtain when you hear everyone over there laughing like crazy. Your turn will come soon enough.
It's Friday --and that means it's time for our weekly round-up of can't-miss arts opportunities that won't be around by this time next week.
Portland Chamber Orchestra performs "The Four Seasons" Saturday night at 7:30, in the Kaul Auditorium of Reed College. Love the Vivaldi this time of year!
Tahni Holt will dance the last "event.space" dances TONIGHT at 7PM and 9PM, at the Ace Cleaners (403 SW 10th). Could be interesting -- a "rumination on society's voyeuristic tendencies and how they manifest in modes of architecture and technology."
Speaking of dance, the annual "Mad Hot Ballroom" gala fundraiser for Young Audiences is this Saturday, with local celebs Connie Greenblatt, Anna Song, Ed Tonkin, Thomas Lauderdale, Paul King and Walter Jaffe among those being paired with professional ballroom dances. Tickets are steep at $250, but it is one of the "funner" fundraisers in town.
Monday night is Mayor Adams' follow-up Town Hall on arts and culture, and he will be joined on the stage by other electeds and art leaders like Jose Gonzales and Thomas Lauderdale. 5-7 PM at PCS ("The Bob"). Look for DK Row's story on Monday morning, and come get your copy of the region's new Creative Action Plan -- hot off the presses. It helps explain why I've been working so hard the past two weeks! (Past two years, actually.)
Hey, good blogging and commenting this week, people. Thank you all!
Here we are, Friday's pretty much over and I have yet to post "Last Call" for the weekend of April 4-5. Sorry about that! I appreciate the work that Mighty Toy Cannon has been doing to post some really interesting tidbits this week while I've been slaving a way on the final draft of the final report of the Regional Creative Capacity Project. I know, I know. You've been holding your breath and you are atwitter* with anticipation and all of that. But seriously. Save the date for April 13 and come to the Town Hall meeting at PCS at 5PM where all will be revealed and the revolution will officially begin.
Meanwhile, your Last Call.
Don't miss the Foot Opera Files, which performs Saturday at 7:30 PM. (The final show on Sunday is sold out.) The reviews have been mixed, but for me the Tom Waits ballads as performed by three by trained opera singers fit fantastically with the Bodyvox style, wherein modern and whimsical dances are performed by classically-trained ballet dancers. The movements aren't always precise and the music sometimes feels strange in this stylistic in-between, but the collaboration is constantly magical. Bodyvox really shines in an intimate venue like this (their new home) and the live music contributes to the feeling that this is what a really good, late-night, old-fashioned cabaret must have felt like.
The Portland Gay Men's Chorus performs an international smorgasbord of music on Saturday at 8pm and Sunday 2pm with "Earthy Harmonies." Really, the Chorus just keeps getting better and better and this tour of China, Africa, Mexico, Estonia, Israel, India, and the South Pacific should be really great.
That's a shorter list than usual, so if you know of any other must-sees that are about to disappear, please tell us in the comments section!
* This seems like an opportunity to adapt Twitter somehow. CynSeattle, can you get on that?
This morning, while dropping in on Portland Art Watch, we learned that White Bird has hired its first General Manager. The PAW report includes a link to a longer Oregonian article from Grant Butler. As noted by the Oregonian, the selection of Phil Busse, former Portland Mercury managing editor with a "checkered history in Portland" is sure to stir up some controversy. That and the fact that Busse isn't bringing years of arts administration and fundraising experience to the job. I can only imagine what they'll be saying over at Blogtown about this.
Since Paul King and Walter Jaffe launched White Bird in 1997, the organization's staff has grown commensurate with the scope of its programming and audience. All that time, Mr. King and Mr. Jaffe have not only been White Bird's visionaries, community ambassadors and chief curators, they have been enmeshed in the day-to-day business of running an arts business. (All without pay, I might add). Over the eleven performances of anoukvandijk dc's STAU at Oaks Park last month, the pair were even called to duty as stage crew, wrangling seats and risers out of the way for the second half of each performance. It was inevitable that they would need professional management help, and the Murdock Trust was generous enough to grant them three years of funding to underwrite the addition of a full-time General Manager.
Grant Butler quotes Jaffe's comments about the prospect of controversy: "It's obviously not someone you expect since he's not been directly involved with the arts. But there's a level of managerial experience that we needed, and he came to us with some very good ideas. We were impressed with the seriousness of his approach. He has been a controversial figure, but we managed to get beyond that."
Over a dozen years, White Bird's founders have made many bold decisions in their program choices. (I particularly enjoyed watching audience members leaving in the middle of Compagnie Maguy Marin's incredible performance at the Schnitzer several years ago). Their decision to transform the White Bird/PSU series to "White Bird Uncaged" with the temporary closure of Lincoln Hall took some guts and fortitude. Perhaps in these times, a bold choice in management is preferable to a safe choice. And, it is probably smart that the first person to fill a role that will work very very close to the company's founders is not going to be a milquetoast administrator, but someone with ideas. We wish them luck.
The procrastinator in me of late has taken to scanning the arts calendars each weekend to find out what's closing, so that I might prioritize my options and be sure to catch anything good that I've missed. Since I'm doing this "research" anyway, I thought it might be helpful to share my findings with the readers of Culture Shock. Ideally this will become a weekly installment, with input from my colleagues, but let's see how it goes.
Rather than a laundry list of all the things that are about to close, I'd like to focus on the performances and exhibits that have received broad critical acclaim, because I think it's important for us to point audiences (and ourselves) to arts experience that reinforce why we invest our time and money in arts and culture in the first place. I admire the braver, more adventurous souls among us who muck through a lot of so-so art to find the gems that are out there, but frankly, that can get pretty exhausting. I'll venture out for the unknown on occasion, but for the most part, please tell me what's good and I'll make a point of seeing it.
So with that, here are the more sure-fire arts events that will disappear soon, so be sure to catch them while you can:
How to Disappear And Never Be Found at PCS. British playwright Fin Kennedy has received many accolades for this new work; the American premiere is directed here by Rose Riordan and features the brilliant Ebbe Row Smith. A few tickets are available for final performances on Friday at 7:30, Saturday at 7:30, Sunday at 2:00 and Sunday at 7:30. White Bird presents anoukvandijk dc at the Oaks Park Dance Pavilion. This thrillingly interactive piece from the Netherlands is part of White Bird's "Uncaged" series exploring modern dance in interesting new venues. Final shows tonight (Friday) at 7:00 and 9:30 PM.
Honus and Me, staged by Oregon Children's Theatre in the Winningstad, is reported to be "one of the best children's plays that will grace a Portland stage this year." (--The Oregonian.) The Steven Dietz play, based on a novel about baseball cards by Dan Gutman, has tickets available for the final performances on Saturday at 2PM, and Sunday at 2 and 5PM.
Don't forget that 24/7 is this weekend. As reported here before, Bill Crane and Thomas Lauderdale have lined up 24 hours of intriguing live concerts to punctuate the fact that our country has been at war for seven years now. 7PM Saturday through 7PM Sunday. And lastly, you may have noticed that Coraline got bumped out of the 3D theaters a couple weeks ago by the hideous Jonas Brothers and their own 3D ambitions, but I am pleased to report that the Laika Studios hit is BACK at Lloyd Center and a few other select 3D theaters through next Thursday. To see it in anything but 3D is to miss out on something truly special. Check fandango for theaters and movie times.
I need to apologize to our readers, to artists and to all who support the inclusion of arts funding in the economic stimulus package. Like you, I’ve been reading about how the “batshit crazy” rightwing anti-culturalists have been maligning arts funding as non-stimulative pork. I was just as disappointed as you to learn that Senators Wyden and Merkley voted for a stimulus bill that included this egregious amendment from Senator Coburn:
None of the amounts appropriated or otherwise made available by this Act may be used for any casino or other gambling establishment, aquarium, zoo, golf course, swimming pool, stadium, community park, museum, theater, arts center, or highway beautification project, including renovation, remodeling, construction, salaries, furniture, zero-gravity chairs, big screen televisions, beautification, rotating pastel lights, and dry heat saunas.
I was dismayed to learn that a recent editorial in the National Review sarcastically opined that increased funding for the NEA would mean that "the unemployed can fill their days attending abstract-film festivals and sitar concerts."
Then it all started to sound vaguely familiar. I got a sinking feeling that I may have inadvertently contributed to the problem. A quick scan of my files brought the memory back and verified my complicity: Just last year I wrote a grant proposal to the NEA on behalf of a regional arts organization. (Professional ethics and common decency bar me from revealing the client's name).The proposal must have been leaked to the Republicans by a disgruntled grant panelist! Since the project is unlikely to be funded, I will share a synopsis of the proposal:
Describe the Project: [NAME REDACTED], Oregon’s leading collective of multidisciplinary dance, theater and abstract film artists, seeks NEA funding for a project through which it will engage the community in dialogue that will inform a co-creative process of examining, exploring and explicating the multidimensional intersections and interstices between consumer culture, Wall Street fraud and organized religion.The site-specific, time-based performative project will draw upon influences as diverse as Andres Serrano, Karen Finley and Robert Mapplethorpe. Seminal materials will be used. We mean urine.
The project’s artistic collaborators will construct a temporary public art installation on the eighteenth hole of the Bandon Springs Golf Resort. This site was selected to provide opportunities for broad-based cultural access to underserved rural communities. The installation will consist of two vitrines to be fabricated, in situ, by 48 glass artists using recycled wine bottles melted in massive anagama kilns. Each vitrine will measure 20’ x 20’ x 20’ (8,000 cubic feet) and will be filled with liquid.
The first vitrine will represent the primeval ocean from which all life evolved. It will be filled with sweat collected from 800 dance artists commissioned to perform an extended choreographic masterwork in a giant dry heat sauna to be constructed in the abandoned warehouses of Laika Studios. At risk youth from inner-city neighborhoods will be employed to scrape the sweat from the dancer’s bodies over the course of the 18-month dance performance.
Once the vitrine is filled with the salty fluid, hundreds of chinook salmon will be released into it. Their futile attempts to migrate and spawn will be accompanied by a techno-industrial score performed by a 32 piece sitar orchestra and four dozen unemployed construction workers with jackhammers. The salmon will then be slaughtered by marauding sea lions in a bloody orgy of classist oppression.
A live video feed will be sent by fiber optic cable to a state-of-the art Imax theater to be constructed at a remodeled Oregon Aquarium (Newport). Simultaneous video feeds will be sent to Spirit Mountain Casino (Grand Ronde) and Chinook Winds Casino (LincolnCity), where spectators will view the salmon slaughter on big screen televisions while placing bets on which fish will be the last to survive. To highlight the interconnectedness between the project sites, Highway 101 (Newport to LincolnCity) and Highway 18 (LincolnCity to Grand Ronde) will be beautified by a nighttime display of rotating pastel lights as well as abstract film.
The second vitrine will be filled with urine. Members of Portland’s burgeoning creative class will be invited to a three-day outdoor concert at which free PBR and Stumptown coffee will be served. Participants will then urinate into special holding tanks. (Many participants may choose to kiss each other while doing so). They will also be encouraged to ride bicycles to the concert site.
Once this vitrine is filled, a figure of Jesus Christ suspended in a zero-gravity chair will be smeared with dung and chocolate and submerged. The vitrine will be lit by more rotating pastel lights (or perhaps primary colors this time). The artistic co-creators will initiate intra-, extra- and inter-community dialoguing sessions to find, create and shape meaning.
The proposed project budget of $2.75 million will leverage an estimated $18.7 million in direct spending in the region, as well as an additional bunch of fiscal stimulus through the economic multiplier effect we’re always talking about. The project will create at least 1,500 family-wage jobs for artists, as well as employing construction workers and teenagers who would just as soon cut you. The long-term infrastructural improvements to roads, fiber optic networks, casinos and art centers (did we mention art centers?) are incalculable, but are sure to be sustainable. Letters of support from the big screen television, rotating light and zero-gravity chair industries are attached.
Figure 1: Let's look into our crystal ball, shall we?
Figure 2: The Crystal Ballroom, site of the Portland Jazz Orchestra's upcoming “Intricate Rhythms," one of 102 projects receiving funding for 2009.
While our friends at Art Scatter were shaking the money tree last Wednesday, the RACC Board was quietly approving record sums of grant funding for artistic projects in 2009. Now that artists and organizations have had time to receive their award letters (and rejections), I'm giddy to help announce the winners.
Actually, let me just link you to the full description of all projects that have received awards for the year ahead. This is one story that actually gets a fair amount of attention each year, as the media and bloggers have fun picking out the projects they are most excited to see. What's your favorite?
Two themes are especially noteworthy here, in my opinion. First, how many of these project grants would you guess are going to the "same old" groups vs. first-time winners? Would you believe 50-50? It's true.
Secondly, this is the most money ever awarded by RACC for project grants, and while the recipient artists and organizations have plenty to cheer about, I suspect it will trigger a few critical remarks from folks who think this a frivolous investment amidst serious economic woes. You'll notice that the press release was written to counter any such sentiment, but we as an arts community must be sure to respond swiftly and intelligently to any Letter to the Editor or other public document that ridicules these investments or calls for arts funding cuts. It's time to gear up for the spring budget cycle, and we have much work to do to maintain arts funding locally as well as renewing statewide arts funding, including the Oregon Cultural Trust, for the next biennium as well.
I don’t know how to write about dance. I wish I could, but I suffer from a few handicaps.
First, my short-term memory seems to be atrophying. Coupled with the ephemeral quality of dance, that means I can't remember much of what I’ve just witnessed on stage, unless the work was so stunning, intriguing or bad that it was seared into my brain. By the time I’m in the car and starting to think about ice cream, most dance performances have already begun to fade.
Second, although I’ve seen a lot of dance, I lack the depth of experience and knowledge upon which a real dance critic draws to put a performance into context. I have a limited pool upon which to compare and contrast what I’ve just seen, and certainly no book-learning on the subject.
Third, my powers of description are as weak as a cup of coffee that is brown but not dark brown like strong coffee would be. I would be an unhelpful crime witness ("I dunno, he was a guy with a knife ... or maybe a gun?"), or wine critic ("Mmm ... tastes winey ... or is it wine-ish?").
Finally, I was raised with the adage, “If what you say behind someone’s back is unlikely to stay there, better to not say it at all.” The Portland arts community is small, convivial and full of hard-working, well-meaning people, so it’s uncomfortable for me to be critical out loud. (And don't think for a minute that Mighty Toy Cannon is a shielding alias--anyone who wants to know who I am can drop me a note).
With that caveat, the following is my take on the Skinner/Kirk + Bielemeier performance presented by White Bird on Wednesday night (continuing through this weekend).
For the next two years, White Bird has been exiled from PSU’s Lincoln Hall while the building is renovated. White Bird opted to take the smaller and edgier of its two subscription series on the road under the sobriquet, White Bird Uncaged. The dance presenters are bringing the four companies in the series to diverse locations – from Oaks Park to a YMCA gym. Regrettably, we missed the first in this year’s series in November – Kidd Pivot at Kaul Auditorium at Reed.
For this second outing of Uncaged, White Bird has adapted the black box of the Portland Opera Studio into an effective, intimate dance venue with approximately 200 seats. No doubt the Opera has the venue tied up for most of the year, but it would be fun to see more dance in that space. The dance floor is surrounded by seats on risers, creating a theater-in-the-round with good sight lines for everyone. Ticketing is general admission with a section of seats reserved for subscribers (which made me feel so special). In choosing where to sit, consider how much you like the frisson of almost getting kicked in the head – in the front row, you’ll be that close to the action. Here's a shot of what you might see if you sit up front:
The lighting design by Peter West, and the light installation by Hap Tivey are arresting: Shafts of light penetrate the space like a … um… like a Jedi light saber … or, how about… piercing beams of light trace filigree patterns while limning the illusion of solidity in a diaphanous ether. (whew). A gentle touch of “theatrical haze” gave the light effects dimensionality – an appropriate use of a stage trick that usually wearies me. (Note: Theatrical fog should be reserved for performances that are: (1) set in London, or (2) involve pirates or headless horsemen).
The first piece, Here and There, Now and Then, choreographed by Eric Skinner, was pleasant enough, though not much of it stuck with me. The dancing lacked the precision needed, and was marred by a few awkward lifts and mid-stage collisions. (More accurately, the problem wasn’t the lifting as much as the putting down). This may reflect first-night jitters or inadequate rehearsal time, so subsequent performances may be smoother. The piece featured a nice duet movement between Eric Skinner and Zachary Carroll. As it commenced, I braced myself for the banal four-step trajectory that typifies many male dance duets, e.g.:
Step One: Swaggering and strutting. "I'm the cock of the walk!"
Step Two: Wary circling. "You lookin' at me?"
Step Three: Wrasslin’ and tusslin’. "I'm gonna kick your ass!"
Step Four (traditional): Bemoaning the fallen enemy. "What have I become!"
Step Four (alternative): Falling into a homoerotic embrace. "Let's get a room."
Skinner’s choreography surprised me by not going in that direction, and was much more interesting as a result (though two days later I can't recall any details, so sorry about that). I liked the women's costumes: simple black frocks with a little ruffle of colored petticoat peeking out (see picture above).
The advance press on the show reported that Daniel Kirk would be absent, called away to tend to a serious family illness in California. Fortunately, he was able to return to Portland and perform last night. As the stagehand rigged the ropes in the darkened space before Semita, my warning system shrieked: “Aerial Dance Ahead!” Fortunately, rather than flying around in loopy-de-loop circles and other standard aerial vocabulary, Kirk used the trapeze as a simple sling from which he was suspended as the lights came up. Slowly, he uncurled from a Half-Pietà to a Full-Crucifix Extension. Some stigmata and a thorny crown would have enhanced the effect.
Kirk’s dance partner, Elizabeth Burden, slinked in on her back, slowly inching her way along a path of projected light. She rose from the floor, he dismounted from the sling, and the rest of the piece was a slow-motion duet that was quite lovely in its stillness and precision. Kirk’s physique (which I understand is referred to as "chiseled") may be the most memorable aspect of the piece, likely to be appreciated by anatomy students and aficionados of Renaissance sculpture.
The final piece, Half of Some, Neither of Either, was packed with Gregg Bielemeier playfulness, wit and energy. For a few moments I thought I was seeing a reprise of some of the gestures and poses struck in Skinner’s opening piece, as if Bielemeier was parodying that work. (Which I thought would have been hilarious, if a little unkind).
A highlight of the performance was Habibi Addo, a titan-sized dancer whose rotund heft evaporated under the grace, fluidity and humor she brought to the stage. In a playful duet, she and Eric Skinner shoved and tugged at each other in repeated phrases as they crossed the stage on a diagonal. The movement was fun in and of itself, but Addo imbued it with personality that popped and was a joy to watch. Unfortunately, much of the rest of the ensemble work didn’t reach a level of infectious elation I think Bielemeier intended – the kind that spills from the dancers to the audience. While a few choreographic jokes got chuckles, the audience struck me as attentive but affectless through most of the performance.
Mild disappointment was setting in until Bielemeier arrived to perform a high-energy solo that stood out in both technique and emotion. Catching my attention was the way he conveyed a balance between exuberance and world-weariness. I may be projecting a lot into it--that dichotomy may not have been the choreographer's intent. Since seeing Oslund+Company dance two weeks ago, I’ve been thinking about dance artists, such as Oslund and Bielemeier, who have played a hugely influential role in this region, yet who struggle year-after-year to secure grant funding, solicit donations, obtain commissions and sell tickets so they can pay the bills and pass some along to their dancers and designers. I admire the artistic drive that keeps them from throwing in the towel, and am intrigued by the idea of artists who are pushed, inevitably, to create and perform no matter the financial and physical obstacles. World-weariness would certainly be an appropriate emotion. (More on that topic in a future post).
Throughout the final piece, vocalist Lyndee Mah wandered the periphery of the stage scat-singing over a recording of herself scat-singing a score she wrote with jazz composer David Ornette Cherry. It was a nice theatrical effect and fun, though I had a hard time discerning Mah's live singing from the taped loops, and it was all a bit busy.
Conclusion: This isn't the dance performance of the season, but go see it anyway for three reasons:
(1) Venturing out and discovering new performance venues is a good thing. I think it's a challenge to get audiences to venture out of their geographic comfort zones to see performances. Bravo to White Bird for an experiment that may help break that pattern.
(2) Supporting local choreographers and dancers is laudatory. Bravo to White Bird for continuing to support local dance -- now it's your turn.
(3) This show may not be groundbreaking or memorable, but it is engaging and has enough stand out moments to make it a worthwhile way to spend 60 minutes.
Final Note: If you’re going to this show, look up the directions to Portland Opera’s Hampton Center carefully. Instead of relying on Google Maps, a GPS system or your own, unerring sense of direction, visit White Bird’s website for specific directions. The City's Big Pipe project has blocked some of the routes that may be what you're used to. Give yourself time to stroll over to the river’s edge to gaze at the sparkling view of our beautiful city. (As we left the performance, a perfect partial moon was pinned just above the skyline to the west).
UPDATE: Go visit to Art Scatter for a more detailed and skillful review of the performance, apparently from the Friday evening show.
A quick cultural shout-out and recommendation before the weekend gets started. Oslund + Company/Dance will be performing this weekend at Imago Theatre, presenting three works choreographed by the talented Mary Oslund:
“Bête Perdue,” which Mary first showed last April, uses a score/soundscape created in collaboration with Obo Addy and Katie Griesar (who acted as sound engineer and “translator”). Barry Johnson's insightful review on Art Scatter describes the work more ably than I ever could.
Oslund+Co. will also premiere “Thirst” -- a duet Mary choreographed for Bonnie Simoa (dance faculty at Lane Community College) and Walter Kennedy (dance faculty at U of O). As described on her website, the piece “is influenced by the film making of Taiwanese director Tsai Ming-liang and his focus on deadpan humor, pollution/consumption, and the connections between people.” The music is composed by Katie Griesar. (As a talented musician and soundsmith, Katie is the resident composer for Imago and also a member of the Portland band, Durango Park).
Finally, Mary’s troupe will present “Prrr” – a work that was commissioned by Ten Tiny Dances for PICA's TBA 2008 Festival, with music from Aussie composer, Darrin Verhagen, with whom Mary has often worked in the past.
If you care about dance, you should see this show for the simple reason that Mary Oslund is one of Portland’s most important and influential dance artists. If you’re not sure whether you care about dance, you should see it because it is a remarkable deal, with ticket prices about half of where they deserve to be.
Oslund+Co. is performing on Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights (8:00 show times) at Imago (17 SE 8th Avenue -- just off SE Burnside). Tickets are available via Brown Paper Tickets: $16 general/$14 students and seniors. Seriously, this is a deal. Send Oslund+Company/Dance some money too.
Posts
