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Sharing the Wealth

Ivan the Fool and the Humpbacked Horse Meet the Princess of the Sea Photo: Stephanie Berger

  Of late, I’ve been having a recurring daydream—probably prompted by the Mariinsky Ballet’s recent season at the Metropolitan Opera House (July 11 through 16), as part of the Lincoln Center Festival. Ballet companies square off like kids on the playground. “Nyah, nyah! I’ve got more Ratmanskys than you do!” “You do not!” “Do so!” “Well I’ve got the best Ratmanskys.” “Take that back or I won’t share my candy bar with you.” Ballets by Alexei Ratmansky have become hot commodities. Not only does he … [Read more...]

Dark Matters in Summer Spaces

Peter Chu and frenemy in Cristal Pite's "Dark Matters." Photo: Christopher Duggan

  I like New York City in summer. Outdoor performances, picnics in the park, sidewalk cafes, late sunset strolls beside the Hudson or on the High Line. On the other hand, if you can swing it, not much beats lying on the lawn at Tanglewood and listening to music; it seems to be coming from the galaxy above. Another venerable Berkshire institution, Jacob’s Pillow, draws dance aficionados and culture seekers. There’s something satisfyingly summery about dining (or picnicking) on the grounds and taking in a free performance on an … [Read more...]

A Critical Journey

Tanger: My Late and Favorite Editor

Hello out there. This is me blogging. As a wordsmith, I don’t love the term, even though I know the derivation. “Blog” has a family resemblance—aurally anyway— to “bog,” “fog,” “blob,” “gob,” “glop,” and “block.” None of these makes my mind or my keyboard fingers feel nimble. Nevertheless, I blog. And am happy to be so doing. We who’ve made a living of sorts writing for newspapers grouse about the possible demise of print journalism. Some people still like to hold a paper—or a book, for that matter— in … [Read more...]

Amazons and Kaleidoscopes

Beth Gill's Electric Midwife -  Photo: Steven Schreiber

Although I often think about chocolate, I don’t think about it when I go to see a performance at the Chocolate Factory in Long Island City—unless, maybe, the dark, unsugared kind comes to mind. No scent of cacao clings to the building’s whitewashed brick interior to hint at its former status, and sweetness is only occasionally an attribute of works presented there. Whenever I ride the #7 train across the East River to the Vernon/Jackson and walk to the place, I’m prepared to be surprised. Will we spectators be guided down a few steps … [Read more...]

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