Show Me the Money!

Today, the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) announced that it will distribute just under $27 million in grants to 1,207 projects. Included in those numbers are 994 projects ($23,828,500) in the “Access to Artistic Excellence” category. According to the NEA press release, 1,697 eligible applications were submitted seeking funds for the creation and presentation of work in a variety of disciplines--a 22 percent increase over the prior year. For those keeping track, that means that just under 59% of the requests were funded (though many may have received a smaller grant than requested).

NEA Chair, Rocco Landesman stated that these grants will support “projects that have great works of art at the heart of them; that work to inspire and transport audiences and visitors; and that create and retain opportunities for artists and arts workers to be a part of this country's real economy."

With ten Oregon arts organizations receiving grants totaling $232,500, that works out to be just about 1 percent of the total. According to population estimates from the U.S. Census (2008), Oregon has 1.2 percent of the nation’s population. Seems to me, we got screwed out of .2 percent of what's due. But let's not quibble over rounding errors. You might note that six of the ten Oregon projects are to theater companies.

Here’s the list of Oregon's awardess, with project descriptions from the NEA. On behalf of Culture Shock, I extend a hearty congratulations to all of them:

Miracle Theatre Company
Category: Theater
$15,000
To support the West Coast premiere of El Quijote by Santiago García, based on the early 17th-century novel Don Quixote by Cervantes. Artistic Director Olga Sanchez will direct the piece.

Oregon Children's Theatre Company
Category: Theater
$20,000
To support the adaptation and premiere of Small Steps by Louis Sachar. The play will be a sequel to Sachar's novel Holes, which also was successfully adapted for the stage.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival Association
Category: Theater
$50,000
To support the development and world premiere production of American Night, a new piece by the theater ensemble Culture Clash to be directed by Jo Bonney. The project will be the first production in the company's American Revolutions: the United States History Cycle, a decade-long public dialogue, commissioning, and production initiative.

Portland Center Stage
Category: Theater
$15,000
To support the 12th annual JAW (Just Add Water): Playwrights Festival. The festival supports playwrights in the development of new works to enhance the repertoire of the American theater.

Third Rail Repertory Theatre
Category: Theater
$10,000
To support a final workshop and world premiere production of The Gray Sisters by Craig Wright. The production will be directed by Producing Artistic Director Slayden Scott Yarbrough and performed by company members.

White Bird
Category: Dance
$25,000
To support the presentation of dance companies in the White Bird Uncaged series. The project will include master classes and lecture-demonstrations.

Portland Art Museum (on behalf of Northwest Film Center)
Category: Media Arts
$35,000
To support the Northwest Film and Video Festival and its tour throughout the Northwest. The festival showcases new work by media artists living in Alaska, Idaho, Montana, Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia.

Eugene Symphony Association, Inc.
Category: Music
$12,500
To support American Encounters: Steven Stucky. The series will include performances of Stucky's recent compositions, a radio broadcast, and educational activities by the composer.

Artists Repertory Theatre (aka Artists Rep)
Category: Musical Theatre
$20,000
To support the development and production of Gracie and the Atom by Portland playwright and composer Christine McKinley. The production will be promoted through the theater's education and outreach program Actors to Go, which features student matinees, artists in classrooms, and post-show discussions.

Portland Opera Association Inc.
Category: Opera
$20,000
To support new productions of a chamber opera triple-bill comprising Leonard Bernstein's Trouble in Tahiti and Monteverdi's one-act operas Il Ballo Delle Ingrate and Il Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda. The artists will include the Portland Opera Studio Artists (POSA) and the POSA Chamber Opera.

Portland Taiko
Category: Presenting
$10,000
To support the development and presentation of Ten Tiny Taiko Dances. The series of new works will be created in collaboration with invited choreographers, musicians, and performance artists.

Although the organization is based in Vancouver, there’s one more project that touches Oregon:

Confluences (aka The Confluence Project)
Category: Design
$32,000
To support a landscape art installation by artist/architect Maya Lin at Celilo State Park. The installation will be located near The Dalles, Oregon, where one of North America's largest waterfalls was once located.

One final note: This post is an example of the new citizen's journalism that will soon be crushing "legacy media," which is what we're supposed to be calling that old fashioned stuff like newspapers. Frankly, I don't see why we need real reporters anyway. All I had to do was extract text from a press release, pull a list from a website, and do a quick Google search for census data. Any idiot could do it.

Chunky Move: Two Faced Bastard

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.

New General Manager at White Bird

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.

White Bird Uncaged: Skinner|Kirk + Bielemeier

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.

Photo Credits: Chris Roesing