This is my story, this is my song,

[raybear]

One of the drawbacks of having grown up so rigorously united methodist (and loving to sing) is that I have numerous hymns lodged into my memory banks that will get triggered at random moments. Like seeing the word "assurances" in a legal contract I'm editing and suddenly I can't stop singing on repeat in my head "Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine" which would frequently get interrupted with phrases of "Isht! No" or "Fckity fck" because I was wrestling with the format of a document.

I'm only a few dozen pages into Special Topics of Calamity Physics, but I'm enjoying it okay. I think it will be a fast read. It annoyed me right off the bat, because it had two devices I'm burnt out on: a) the Extremely Quirky/Savant-esque Narrator (why does everyone have to be so damn special?) and b) the Self-Consciously Aware of Being a Novel Novel, i.e "I'm writing this book because....". Its a novel, its ok, we suspend disbelief by opening the thing up. Just embrace the device, or subvert the device, but I'm tired of always showing awareness of the device, mostly because it feels sloppy. Like maybe the writer doesn't trust themselves to pull off creating this whole world that the medium requires. Which doesn't instill a lot of confidence as a reader. But, you know, aside from all those strict opinions, I'm reading it. Besides, part of what I'm saying is more about my personal preference as a reader, not so much grand declarations in the literary theory realm. Really, my biggest complaint about this book is that its big and heavy and so carrying it around takes up lots of space in my bag, and it was perhaps not the wisest idea for me to bring it along when I decided to walk half of the distance between home and work downtown. It was even more annoying for me to stop at the library and check out two DVDs and two more books, to add to my back. Oh well.

I was really social for almost all of this weekend. By late Sunday night I was definitely feeling it, so strangely I had the mix of weekend end/monday morning lows, mixed with relief at having back my time alone that comes with a work week. But I'm glad for all the people I saw and things I did all weekend. Well, except for the one piece in a dance performance that was kinda fcked up. I was actually inspired enough by my frustration to write an e-mail to the choreographer this morning, so I suppose that's something. Though maybe a little sad that I never track down strangers to tell them when I like something they've created.

Comments

[anjibobanji.livejournal.com]

That's interesting, I have never done that, emailed the choreographer, although I have complained loud and long. My friend Drew was a performance artist when we lived together (now he is an associate editor of new yorker online magazine, so strange!) and both my sisters were dancers growing up, when I moved to NYC in 1983 my sister was dancing for this downtown so and so and anyway, for some reason I have seen a lot of dance! And much of it awful although the medium gets so little love, oh another best friend of mine was a dancer too and then dance died. She was like, I spent 20 years on something no one cares about. Now she lives in NYC and is a stylist. Oh and my friend Tommy was in Bela Lewitsky, god I am old now! I should have parlayed all this dance knowledge into something, an email to a choreographer at least!

What did you say?

[sharkysmachine.livejournal.com]

When I heard the phrase "modern dance" I die a little inside, even though I know there are so many great things happening in the world of Movement and such.

[raybear.livejournal.com]

i love you for caring! (just when i think i couldn't love you more!) i know very little about dance other than "i like it" or "i'm bored", but i like going to see it and having those assessments and learning to talk about it. this piece was definitely boring, but it was also a 'message' piece and it was a fcked up message. instead of telling you what it was, i'll just cut and paste my e-mail and you can probably figure it out.

Hi,

I attended the Saturday evening performace at Glade Memorial Hall. It's rare that I am so affected by a piece that I am moved to contact the person responsible for it, but with your piece, I have overcome the inertia that often comes with being an audience member. Unfortunately, my motivation comes because I was extremely frustrated and even offended by your piece "Diss-able."

I of course recognize the positive intent of your piece (I think) which is to bring attention to an issue of the falibility of bodies and the emotional process of dealing with when they become disabled by disease, accident, aging, etc. But your piece to me was a two-dimensional rendering of the issue, and an inaccurate one at that. I wondered, have you ever significantly interacted with someone who is disabled? Or someone with a disability who is also a dancer or performer? Are you aware that there exist dance companies that mix differently abled dancers together on stage, using the same "props" as you, such as a cane, a chair, a walker? Except in their case, they are tools of the trade, not objects of fear and loathing. Though I suppose your props supported the message your dance piece conveyed -- disability is the ultimate fear and tragedy. What could possibly be worse than to not be able-bodied? Look at the tragic heroism of paralyzed person who manages to lift a finger or stand up! They are trapped in their mind and can only relive their days as an able-bodied persion, they are no longer worthy.

I will acknowledge that these are not the messages you intended to convey with your piece, but these are the messages I received while watching. Fear and pity. Which in this context, is offensive. And boring. We live in a culture that hates our bodies in a myriad of ways -- having to do with weight or gender or ability or youth or race. These messages are everywhere, all the time. The dance piece reasserted these same messages. 'Being disabled is the worst thing that can happen. We should shake our head and wipe away our tears and count our blessing and thank heavens we can still walk.' That is pity. That is also dehumanizing and unrealistic. People who live with disabilities are LIVING. Yes, there are trial and struggles that come with failing bodies, and I'm not saying it isn't an emotional landscape we shouldn't examine, but it should be done in all directions, in three dimensions, and, in the case of a dance performance, with research and input of the experience of people that are supposedly the subject. And perhaps some dramaturgy could also be involved.

Sincerely,
Raybear

[anjibobanji.livejournal.com]

Oh Dear Lord (not oh do lord, oh do lord, oh do remember me oh lordy!) what a terrible piece! Your letter is excellent.

[raybear.livejournal.com]

Her other crime was using the music of Ennio Morriconi, which I like. I hate when people ruin music by making boring, tedious, offensive art with it!!

I decided to leave that out of the letter though.