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Sunday, August 30, 2009

My Dance Style

Lately, I have been obsessed with the origins of certain words. I feel like unraveling their history is deciphering a key element in understanding my relationships to them, especially when examining my interaction with aesthetic experiences.

Yesterday, I treated myself, my better half, and my neighbors to Dance Houston's City Wide Dance Festival. Kudos to Executive Director Andrea Cody for putting together such a diverse, energizing, and sublime (my word du jour) roaster of spectacular and colorful companies that presented folk, ballroom, contemporary, cultural, classical, and urban styles. I believe anyone who is exposed to this art form at one point says to themselves "I want to do just that," or perhaps "I want to fit in that fabulous outfit."

For me, it did something more than just entertain. It allowed me to examine my reactions to each of the fourteen companies and genre's presented. Without prior knowledge of most of these companies, I carefully noted my involvement level. It was easy to be captured by the delicious colorful costumes of Compania Folklorica Alegria Mexicana and their peasant like zapateado, the exotic, angular and expressive hand gestures of the Sreepadam School of Arts with their exquisite cultural outfits, the deep, thoughtful and programmatic narrative by Urban Souls Dance Company and the overwhelming energy of each and every dancer of Wyld Styl. Each group's work was unique, accessible and I could go on for ages. In the interest of your interest, go next year.

There was one group that went beyond taking my breath away and that was Houston Ballet II performing "Den III" choreographed by Garrett Smith. I was captured by their simple and graceful lines, intriguing shapes, the dramatic yet uncomplicated use of light, shadows, mirroring and repetition. The work was hypnotic with powerful minimal costumes in red and black, accompanied by medieval like music that featured a constant drum not dissimilar to a heartbeat. I was bewitched by the four dancers' ability to use and fill the stage. They appeared larger than life-like.

I was surprised that Houston Ballet II's performance would have such an effect. After all, I salivate at the idea of Indian cultural dance, sexy tango, and high energy samba and ballroom moves. I learned that my eye is drawn to the formalized movements that are associated with the art, especially when sprinkled with other dance elements.

I researched the etymology of dance and found:

From Middle English daunsen, from Anglo-Norman dancier, from Old French dancer (to dance) of Germanic origin akin to Old High German dansōn "to stretch, draw out (the arms as if motioning), extend, dance"; Old High German dinsan "to draw out", Gothic aþinsan, Old English. þenian, þunian "to extend, stretch", "be stretched"

I associate stretching and extend with the beautiful formalized lines demanded by classical ballet. As a musician, I always enjoyed the challenge of bringing creativity, color and life within established parameters of the stylized and accepted form of the baroque, classical and romantic periods. I rationalize that I was mesmerized by "Den III" for similar attributes.


Wednesday, August 26, 2009

...moving...

In response to a Facebook posting announcing my intent to visit the Holocaust Museum Houston, my dear friend Sophia (Artistic Director of Psophonia Dance Company) wrote to me and shared that for her, "the whole experience was very moving." Aside from a curious synchronicity between her kinesthetic art and her description as moving, I decided to investigate the etymology of moving as it relates to being affected emotionally and deeply. Of course, as we dissect the word emotion, we find easily a semantic connection with the root of both words.Googling moving proved disastrous as I was over bombarded with companies wanting to help me move to a new home and store my valuables. Wikipedia was not helpful at all, as it concentrated on the moving industry. I did learn however about music albums named as such (Pater, Paul and Mary), about a Japanese film and a British sitcom.

As the words etymology, emotion and moving were swirling around in my consciousness, I searched for the etymology of emotion. Therein lay my answer and I found it fascinating.

Paul Thomas Young in his book "Motivation of Behavior - the Fundamentals Determinants of Human and Animal Activity" explains that the word emotion is derived from the Latin e (out) and movere (to move). Originally, in the 1600s the word was associated with migration, to move from one place into another. In the 1700s, the physical meaning was gradually transfered to political and social agitation. He associates the meaning to tumult and popular disturbance. It was later in 1762 that it was used to describe any agitated or excited mental state of an individual. Other online dictionaries supported this semantic development.

Interestingly, there seems to be a negative connotation when one describes an individual as emotional. We assume they are unstable, inadequate and weak, not unlike its roots. We associated its origins with strong feelings, developing into conscious emotions, and moving into irrational behavior. When we describe an artistic work as emotional, we assign it a special power to move (not to be redundant) and to affect our physiological state in terms of mood, temperament, disposition, and possible personality. That indeed, is a positive attribute.

This also brought light to another colloquialism many of us use: fleeting emotions: something that passes quickly, always in transition and fades away. My experience at the Holocaust Museum Houston will not be fleeting and will not be forgotten.

I had the opportunity to view the Besa: Muslims Who Saved Jews During the Holocaust exhibit. In Albania, Besa is the code of honor "to keep the promise" and featured photography by Norman H. Gershman. I learned about many heroes that remained unrecognized for a long period of time given the political climate in Eastern Europe. The photography was soft, emotive and captured the beauty and sanctity of the essence of the personalities pictured.

(Left) Nadire Proseku, holding a photograph of her husband - Lived near a Train Station in Tirana - Muslim, protected three Jewish strangers. (Right) Petraq Xhimitku (back) and Sofir Simsia (front) standing in the wall where his father was set to be executed for sheltering Jews from Kosovo, saved by a partisan group who moments before, shot the executing officers.

I was moved, although the stereotypical fleeting emotion will certainly stay with me for a long time, perhaps weaving in and out of consciousness. The beauty lay in the bravery and purity of intentions that came out of horrible adversity and unimaginable circumstances. Perhaps, like Ashley McLean and Traci Matlock, I had found the sublime.

Below are also photographs of a train used to transport entire targeted communities to concentration and death camps. Amazing to think what is now a stationary exhibit in a museum may have been many people's last memory. I encourage you to see it for yourself.






Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Matcha and Shiatsu

I make my biweekly pilgrimage to the Path of Tea for my irresistible cup of frozen soy matcha smoothie. There is a strange energy always bringing me back here for this elixir, perhaps it's because I feel slightly high after, or the wonderful melange of creative and thought-provoking beings lurking around. At any rate, I am here today and right now.

I rushed back from a client walk (driving at almost 100 mph) to learn about Shiatsu. Prior to that, I just thought it was a fun word to say, but like most, had little idea of what it was all about. The word itself is somewhat sexy, but then again, I have somewhat of a peculiar mind.

I ordered my frozen nectar and sat next to what started as a stranger, an artist who worked in chinese calligraphy and sumi-e painting, realizing we had many friends and colleagues in common (a sample of a creative and thought-provoking being lurking) . We were introduced to Guy Hiscock, who started rambling in somewhat stream of consciousness fashion about his therapy practice. I have to admit I was a little confused at first trying to grasp for meaning and cohesiveness. Then I started to get it.

Integrative Shiatsu works on our three levels of existence: physical, emotional, and spiritual. The concept is that energy systems become unsynchronized due to stress, and by realigning them, the body is empowered to accelerate the healing process, preventing disease, and work at its best capacity. Guy was communicating with all these planes, then back to us, and his communication to us was extremely energetic, hilarious at times, and somewhat fragmented due to the different pathways of information reaching him. Of course, this is a much simplified definition of the practice, that was just my take away today.

Guy did demonstrations at random. Names were drawn out of a basked, and alas, I was a "chosen one." I felt like the virgin form the Danse Sacrale of the Rite of Spring, given that I was one of three men in the room. But hey, I am ready, willing and able. I am not sure why there was a little nervous anxiety inside of me, as I am usually very open to experiences outside of my realm.

His presence is calming. He asked me what I was afraid of since I was 6 years old (I informed him of my bad rotator cuff) when I fell of the monkey bars and broke my arm and I blurted out quickly and immediately: failure. That quick interaction brought something into my consciousness that I had not been aware of thought in a long time.

Using pressure points identified by the physical he made me aware of some meandering thoughts hidden somewhere deep in the vortex of what is my consciousness. Then I started to understand and made me wonder about what longer therapy would uncover. Am I ready, willing and able?

As i ponder, I'll order another matcha soy smoothie.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Hearing Visually and Visualizing Sound

Multimedia presentations are not new. The concept of combing artistic disciplines is rooted in folkloric cultural traditions. Music incites movement. Dance is enriched by music. Opera has traditionally combined music, dance and theater, and to a different extent visual arts (if one could consider set design artistic). The concept of gesamtkunstwerk (gesamt = entire, kunst = art, werk = factory/work) describes universal artwork, one which includes and synthesizes all art forms.

Although the term is generally associated with Wagner (1813-1883), it was first used by philosopher Eusebius Trahndorff in 1827, and aligned quite explicitly romantic ideologies: a reaction against the rational and scientific thinking of the Age of Enlightenment in favor of the sublimity of and strong emotional contrasts of the aesthetic experience. Today of course, our accepted list of what is colloquially considered art or artistic is largely expanded and continues to be challenged. In a post-modern world where everything goes and technology keeps that threshold moving, the concept of gesamtkunstwerk is not only ideal, it’s perhaps impossible to achieve without established limits.

Jade Simmons, pianist amidst many other abilities, crafted a short lecture recital at Wade Wilson Gallery that combined two disciplines. Selected Etudes of Alexander Scriabin and works of Wassily Kandinsky were paired in Hearing Color, Seeing Sound. One thing was certain, Jade loves cool colors, and her playing is sinfully delicious (music and culinary arts, now there is a synesthetic experience cannot live without).

I always describe Scriabin’s music as drunk and high on pot Chopin. A peculiar and frail personality, a hypochondriac (ironically dying from a cut, boil and lip infection while shaving), Scriabin claims, although disputed, to have had synesthetic experiences. Synesthesia is the concept that one sensory stimulant leads to another involuntary one. We use this in language as metaphors quite often. For example: loud colors (those in design know exactly what I meant), bitter cold, and green with envy.

Although I do not agree with musical keys assigned only one color, I do believe sonorities in context can be associated more successfully. Scriabin went as far as aligning each note with a color (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scriabin) Although I am hesitant to be quite literal, and to be fair, I have not done enough research to truly understand Scriabin thought process, colors for me are drawn from a visual representation of the symbolic nature of each piece.

Take the key of C and it's association with the color red. I can't imagine the last movement of Beethoven's Fifth and Mozart Piano Sonata in C Major K.545 being associated with the same color no matter how we shade and discuss. I know the suggestion is horribly simplistic and a little jejune given the scope of both works, but if one is make the argument of synchronicity between color and key, it should be universal right? Or did Mozart write this in the wrong key?

Listen to Beethoven's Fifth, Last Movement

Listen to Mozart's Piano Sonata in C Major K. 545 First Movement

Psychologically the color red symbolizes passion, strength, energy, fire, sex, love, romance, excitement, speed, heat, arrogance, ambition, leadership, masculinity, power, danger, blood, war, anger, revolution, radicalism, communism and aggression. Now think of all companies that use red in their logos. Is that saying something about them?

Here is a piece of music most will be unfamiliar with unless you are a masochist flutist or pianist who loves flutists. I had a clear image when I was learning to play the first movement of the Liebermann Flute Sonata. That of a frozen civilization, icicles, clear, pristine, brushed with grayish blues, whites and glimmers of light. Incidentally, I always hear flat keys in terms of cool tones. Did I get it right?

Listen to Lowell Liebermann's Flute Sonata First Movement

I think it's more valuable to explore the possibility rather than to come up with a strict guideline. Enriching the way we hear, see, touch, taste and smell translates into heightening the way we feel and interpret. Keep up with Jade and let's see what she comes up with next.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Learning to find the "Sublime"

Photography is such an interesting and relatively new art. The word itself is derived from greek roots and can be simplified to mean "drawing with light." The first permanent image was recorded in 1825 by French inventor Nicéphore Niépce (gotta love the French) making it a much younger form when comparing it to the classical arts.

At Spacetaker's SPEAKeasy, a monthly event where artists present and speak about their works, aesthetic process, philosophy, and language, I was introduced to the "sublime" work of a collaborative team of photgraphers: Ashley MacLean and Traci Maclean. Together they call themselves Tethered to the Sun.

They presented a line of images that to the naked and untrained eye may seem thematically disconnected. Although I could appreciate and react the images from a variety of different angles, I struggled to make sense to decipher some sort of cohesiveness. However, in their artist language and artistic philosophy, they were connected by their search to exhibit the "sublime."

Straight from dictionary (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/sublime):
Pronunciation: \sə-ˈblīm\
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French sublimer, from Medieval Latin sublimare to refine, sublime, from Latin, to elevate, from sublimis
Date: 14th century[French sublimer, from Latin sublimare]
a (1) : to elevate or exalt especially in dignity or honor (2) : to render finer (as in purity or excellence)
b : to convert (something inferior) into something of higher worth

In aesthetics, the sublime (from the Latin sublimis ([looking up from] under the lintel, high, lofty, elevated, exalted) is the quality of greatness or vast magnitude, whether physical, moral, intellectual, metaphysical, aesthetic, spiritual or artistic. The term especially refers to a greatness with which nothing else can be compared and which is beyond all possibility of calculation, measurement or imitation.

When thought of it as a verb rather than an adjective, it is something we do. In the artists language and communicative style, they were turning things into the sublime according to their own aesthetic and artistic values. For the viewer, we had to search for it, and the exercise exposed some of our own judgements and limits. The photography was not stereotypically "pretty" but required sometimes a strong response as it sometimes (but not always) contained violent and sexual overtones. It could be offensive to some.

My take away: as a verb, we have the ability to view beyond content and find the sublime in these works, sometimes it is readily available, some times we have to work to uncover it. This in turn opened a new life philosophy: finding beauty in the most unexpected of places and situations.
It's all about attitude.

I am providing a link to the artists website below. The content may be difficult for some to experience.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Look, I am ART!

If you have not been to a Spacetaker event or a Winter Street Studios open house, you are missing an opportunity to be exposed to a variety of different art mediums, styles and experiences. A melange of upcoming, established, and well-known creative personalities, critiques and leaders strolled through the various studios and exhibition spaces, all while listening to a loud band play cover tunes. The chips and salsa were a definite bonus.

I ran into Carrie Schneider. I met Carrie somewhere between here and there and somewhere else (we are both puzzled as to how we know each other), and connected at a Contemporary Arts Museum, Houston essay discussion group. The essay was extremely academic, and soon we were off topic discussing the dilemma of art institution outreach programs, marketing, and development departments. At what point do we try to add interactivity and interconnectivity just to please foundations, corporations, government entities and donors looking to affect the most change as well as to gain the most visibility? And, does this mean selling out in favor of creating a profile that looks good to those that have the money.

Carrie caught my attention with two pieces. One of them happened to be me. YES, I WAS ART. How? She placed a mirror, a dry erase marker, had people go to town, and of course, the reflection of you and those around you became a part of the work. Interactivity and interconnectivity were essential to the success of the aesthetic experience. Process and product were equally important.

I sent an email to my mother with this picture with a quote. Look Mom, I am ART. She is an artist also.