Winter mind from desert choreographer Emanuel Gat

Say, I saw Gat in Durham with the Fabulous Kate (above). I think you captured something important when you say: "His head seems to be watching his body move. Assaf’s head, by contrast, follows the spine; if his body were a mind, it would be absorbed in thought." I'm not sure what it means but it TOTALLY felt that to me!

We got a chance to find out about that airplane drone you mention. I found it fascinating. It's Beatle’s “A Day in the Life,” but it’s hard to tell, since Gat has manipulated that song’s famous passage, the one where all the orchestra instruments play through their full range, simultaneously, crescendo-ing as they go. He has stretched this 20-second passage to fill 20-minutes.

Seems like you're doing just fine...but perhaps you might be interested in the NEA Arts Journalism Institute for Dance. It's 3 weeks of dance and reviewing and discussion at ADF in Durham. We (the writers) were all different levels and I think we all learned. We had great models and wonderful feedback on our writing from guests and colleagues.

Looking forward to reading more dance reviews - keep it up -

Rosie

[Apollinaire responds]: About the 20 minute drone--yes, of course it's the opening of the Beatles' song: it's a very droll way to begin the dance to extend that jet-hitting-the-sound-barrier of the song so the dance is its prologue almost. I loved that, but with 4oo words, I had to pick what to get into.

And thanks for the career advice: I'm sure a post like this seems to beg for it. I was really only trying to present what I thought was an interesting problem (with, yes, some requisite moaning, beating of chest, and tearing of hair). ~Apollinaire

Nice and thoughtful piece, Apollinaire. It can be tricky to define the feeling we have about a particular choreographer, especially when we have to quote physicality and atmosphere rather than text. I saw Gat's work for the first time last September, on his British debut (with the same works you discuss here). Although it seemed a little lost on a wide stage, I felt all those deft and feathery gestures invited some kind of narrative explanation. The pieces were full of questions (not just the irritated ones you found yourself plagued by) - but until I see his work again, I'm not sure I'd know which questions were the useful ones.

[Apollinaire responds]

David, wonderful comment--and thank you. Yes, Gat seems to me, too, to operate by way of question and experiment; the success of the piece depends, though, on him getting us engaged enough in the questions that we can sort through them and know "which questions were the useful ones," as you so aptly put it.

I liked the vast stage for so small an ensemble, particularly in "Winter Variations," where he so pointedly used only half of it for the first 20 minutes. I felt the idea of there being all this unused space, off to the side where it's so easy to forget about--reinforced, circuitously the space between the men, the unseen space as much as the seen.

But why is it narrative explanation--as opposed to emotional or psychological--that the "deft and feathery gestures" (how beautifully put!) made you think of? Write again!

I write about dance in Durham, NC, and reviewed the new Gat piece when it premiered recently at the American Dance Festival. Here is the link to Classical Voice of North Carolina.

http://www.cvnc.org/reviews/2009/062009/ADF2.html

It sounds as if I would have written differently had I sat through the "Silent Ballet."

[Apollinaire responds] Kate, thanks for the link. I'll check it out.