Carolyn Brown's book is a personal account of her dance career as a member of the Merce Cunningham dance troupe. It's a very enjoyable book to read, full of her reactions to the important people and events in her life. It does not attempt to be scholarly, and sometimes I wish it were a bit more detailed.
What interests me most about the book is hearing a dancer talk about dancing; what makes her do it, what the ups and downs are, performing versus training, her views on other dancers and choreographers, touring, etc.
What impresses me about Brown and the other Cunningham dancers is how disciplined they were for so little worldly reward. They endured many years of critical disparagement and poverty as they rehearsed with almost military intensity. Their devotion to their art surely must be an example to the rest of us.
Thanks for the book, Carolyn.
And now I want to see the dances themselves!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Catalog d'oiseaux
How we change.
Listening to Messiaen's "Catalog d'oiseaux" today brings back memories of listening to it 25 years ago and not liking it very much. It seemed like such a crazy enterprise, and the pieces didn't even seem to be trying for any kind of unity or development. It seemed like swatches of music stuck together in a patchwork. The swatches themselves were interesting but also did not develop within themselves. The repetition drove me crazy.
Today, listening to the Anatol Ugorski recording, I think that I must have been young and impatient. The pieces seem immensely vibrant, written in a musical language of great originality and power.
It may be partly due to recording technology; Ugorski's piano sounds fantastic, whereas the older LPs (Loriod playing?) probably were analog recordings. It could be Ugorski's playing, too; I think he probably takes faster tempi and possibly uses less pedal.
But I am a more patient listener now, more accustomed to music that is not going anywhere. Striving and becoming is not everything; listening to Messiaen is more like prayer than drama, and sometimes prayer is just what we need.
Listening to Messiaen's "Catalog d'oiseaux" today brings back memories of listening to it 25 years ago and not liking it very much. It seemed like such a crazy enterprise, and the pieces didn't even seem to be trying for any kind of unity or development. It seemed like swatches of music stuck together in a patchwork. The swatches themselves were interesting but also did not develop within themselves. The repetition drove me crazy.
Today, listening to the Anatol Ugorski recording, I think that I must have been young and impatient. The pieces seem immensely vibrant, written in a musical language of great originality and power.
It may be partly due to recording technology; Ugorski's piano sounds fantastic, whereas the older LPs (Loriod playing?) probably were analog recordings. It could be Ugorski's playing, too; I think he probably takes faster tempi and possibly uses less pedal.
But I am a more patient listener now, more accustomed to music that is not going anywhere. Striving and becoming is not everything; listening to Messiaen is more like prayer than drama, and sometimes prayer is just what we need.
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