Author Archives: Anton Goretsky

Posts by Anton Goretsky

M. and Madame Butterfly

Posted on November 21, 2017 by Anton Goretsky

These two shows were a fundamentally new, but amazing experience for me. But that’s not because I haven’t seen any Broadway musicals, plays, or operas before, but rather I have never seen any shows in which I was a learned observer. I have never prior to the show come in with the knowledge of the play’s history and story, nor have I discussed the criticisms or its wonderful moments. While seeing both Madame and M. Butterfly, my viewing experience was fundamentally different, rather than wondering what the next bit of the story was, I was excited to see how the actors would showcase a scene I vividly remembered and talked about. What would their actions be? How would they convey its message? Would I be as engaged as I was while reading? These thoughts definitely kept me on the edge of my seat during the performances. It was also one of the reasons why I felt I actually enjoyed the opera, words which I never really expected to say.

Of the two art forms, however, I definitely enjoyed M. Butterly more. It was engaging, lively, comedic, serious, and interesting, all at the same time. I loved how the actors broke the fourth wall and spoke to the audience, acknowledging that they were telling us a story about what happened. They critiqued themselves, what they did, and their own words. Gallimard himself eventually recognized the hypocrisy in his life and beliefs about Butterfly, although he did refuse to accept it. It was very interesting watching Gallimard react to differences in Chinese opera, which was depicted as anything but submissive and quiet, but rather very active and loud. The split in the screens which created the backdrops for the play was a very clever way of transitioning from one world to the next. They were not intrusive but rather were very instrumental in shifting the audience’s mindset from France to China. All in all, it was a wonderful performance, where I very much enjoyed listening to the critique of the Western depiction of Eastern culture, the complexities of the human mind and gender itself.

Subway Visit #2

Posted on November 8, 2017 by Anton Goretsky

In order to start producing the film, we elected to go on a day of shooting. We didn’t have a full script, a defined shot list or concrete storyboarding, but we decided to go out anyway, just to practice, and see what would happen. The day of shooting and exploring the space for new shot opportunities allowed to us to see the potential of the space, and create a more concrete storyline tying together all of the ideas we had previously. We noticed the reactions of people as we were filming, annoying them with our talking, the camera and monopod. As I was filming Michelle sitting down in the train car, the guy next to her kept falling asleep, leaning down and then constantly jolting up. We took that opportunity to film her annoyance and discomfort in the situation. We found creepy tunnels and spaces at a station in Brooklyn, giving us an opportunity to showcase another unfortunate “subway situation.” Although it wasn’t necessarily the idea in the beginning, the film most likely will have a fairly dark feel, as the majority of the situations are either annoying, unpleasant, or actually terrible. However, we feel that they are definitely a possibility, and should be shown, rather than purposefully making the short film light. As we were outside, filming Michelle walking to the station, we decided that the most efficient way to tie together all these situations was a dream, or rather a nightmare, in which she is imagining each of her annoyances, fears, and pleasures as she goes about her today on a ride on the Q train from point A to point B. There is a whole host of feelings and events that go on in this space, and we wish to bring them to life.

Constant Commotion (Site Visit 1)

Posted on October 25, 2017 by Anton Goretsky

Our iMovie project is centered around the New York City Subway. The subway is the great equalizer. Everyone takes it, from your local schoolteacher to businessman or nurse. It’s a necessary part of everyone’s New York experience, and thus a melting pot of both people and experiences. If one just takes a second to look around, you can notice a lot. Who just took a shower 10 minutes before getting onto the train; their hair still glossy wet. Who is off to work at a hospital, their scrubs on or in a bag. You notice those who are impatient, constantly checking their watch or shifting their weight from one foot to another. Sometimes you can get some silent fashion advice from those who put themselves together well. So much can be seen. But I’m not out to glorify the subway. It can be fantastically useful, even fun at times when a good performer comes on to the train. But often you just want to be alone, not crammed into your seat, or while standing, jostled around by the hundreds of people coming in and out of the train at every single stop. The smell of sweat when some asshole decided not to put on deodorant, and just keeps his arm raised the entire train ride. A performer steps on that really shouldn’t be performing anymore, their voice and musical skills are not quite there, and you end up listening to screeching strings through your morning headache. Or maybe you have one of those scary moments, where you’re alone in the train car at night, and some creepy guy comes on, and you can’t help but let your imagination run wild. All in all the subway is an urban space rich with experiences, one we take for granted, but is certainly there for us each day.

Buried Child Response

Posted on October 18, 2017 by Anton Goretsky

The 1996 Broadway production of Buried Child certainly lived up to and past expectations. It was a moody, slow, and very dark production, quite true to Sam Shepard’s script and his depiction of American 70’s rural decay. The setting was greatly taken into consideration in the production of this play. The grime and decay were very well depicted, with the dirt and stains on Dodge’s clothes and blankets, as well as the rest of the furniture and the floor. James Gammon powerfully plays a frail man greatly burdened by a very large secret. Tilden’s emotions are very effectively conveyed by Terry Kinney, showing how even more broken he had become after the murder of his son. He is very visibly upset at Dodge, screaming to Shelly and the audience that “He won’t tell any of us!” referring to what happened to his child. Bradley’s violent and brutal behavior is also incredibly well established, with his exertion of dominance over Tilden, Shelly, and Dodge.

Time has passed this family by. None of them recognize the way things used to be prior to the secret. When the photographs of him were pointed out to be hanging upstairs, he replied with the words, “I am me.” and said that he never was that person. Traditional family values have entirely been eroded from this family. Dodge, the patriarch, head of household, has been removed from this position and is left entirely at the mercy of his family. He is treated as entirely incapable by his wife, Halie, to the point where she is having an affair with the Reverend, and while we don’t know, but one can assume that her behavior started prior to this affair, as the baby was born of an incestuous relationship with Tilden. In addition, he is humiliated and taken advantage of by his violent son Bradley, who cuts Dodge’s head harshly while shaving his hair. He realizes with sadness that this is happening, stating near the end of the play that if he were to die right then and there nobody would notice.

 

The family is so overrun by shame that they have accepted this dysfunctional state as the status quo. They pretend that the secret never exists while it clearly eats at them every single day. This fact is only realized by Shelly, the outsider. Seeing the performance was very different from reading the script itself. The dramatic and dark undertones and emotions are so much more visible and powerful, with the character’s agony being felt more greatly. All in all, many seemingly small lines and set pieces are brought to life, things that could be missed while simply reading the script. The performance brought power and perspective to the words.

Café Muller and The Rite of Spring

Posted on October 8, 2017 by Anton Goretsky

Cafe Muller and The Rite of Spring are seeming opposites. Cafe Muller began quietly, slowly. One may not have even realized the dance had begun, as at first, there was no bright stage lighting, only the sound of the dancer bumping into a chair brought your attention down to the floor. The piece was often very quiet, with slow movements, periodically interrupted by quick, dramatic, loud and repetitive actions. What astonished me most researching this play was the fact that Bausch made most of the dancers dance with their eyes closed. I think this speaks to the incredible amount of trust between the group, and the emotional work that goes into creating a production of the sort. I have never been to an interpretative dance performance before, and throughout the piece I was frantically searching for a meaning, a connection between the spontaneous pieces. The best connection I could relate the play to was relationships. Stumbling blindly through the darkness, moments of peace and love, but also ones of dramatic chaos.

 

The Rite of Spring contrasts greatly with Cafe Muller. I’d regard it as more of a traditionally choreographed dance, with a lot more, well, dance. And this is supported by David Jays’ statement, where he says, ” From Bluebeard (1977) onwards, Bausch abandoned development and progression: all her subsequent pieces are loose, unpredictable montages of scenes, strung together by free association. The Rite of Spring was set prior to her shift in development, and Cafe Muller post. I greatly enjoyed this piece, due to its set, realism, and interactions between dancers. The Rite of Spring was originally premiered in 1913 in Paris, but Bausch took said piece and transformed it into a feminist statement, where the chosen one, (the woman in the red dress), is sacrificed to the misogynistic men. And you could truly see the attitudes of the dancers on stage towards her. Once she put the red dress on, the women avoided her, seemingly disavowing her existence, while the men idolized her.

 

But while I’d like to say that Cafe Muller and The Rite of Spring differed in every right, that would not be correct. They both were dramatic, quick, sometimes violent displays of emotion, greatly challenging the audience in interpreting their message. And this was largely their point. Bausch herself stated, “It is almost unimportant whether a work finds an understanding audience. One has to do it because one believes that it is the right thing to do. We are not only here to please, we cannot help challenging the spectator.” Bausch tells a story with her work, and we the audience try our best to understand what she is saying. And I understand her mentality in that statement. When I am writing a script or filming, I don’t want to explicitly state my message. I try to run the audience through different emotions, clues, bits and pieces that they have to piece together. I don’t believe a message can have full impact unless the audience pieces together its meaning and conclusion themselves.

Nature’s Undying Conquest

Posted on September 12, 2017 by Anton Goretsky

The park that really never should have been. One of those strange success stories that no one really ever imagined was possible. An old, rundown freight railroad slated for demolition saved by nature itself. In 2001, photographer Joel Sternfeld published a book titled, Walking the High Line, showcasing the wild beauty of this railroad. Nature had taken over: grasses and flowers grew around the track and through the ties, even trees began to grow above the streets of Manhattan below. It brought color and life to urban decay, inviting and inspiring. Rallying the public via public and private organizations, some organized by local residents, such as Friends of the Highline, revived the railroad in the public eye, allowing us to experience its wonder.

I believe this photograph captures said essence: nature taking back the railroad, and bringing beauty with it. The flowers and plant life are the priority, taking the center stage, sitting directly in the focal point of the camera. As one shifts their focus to the background, railroad tracks are visible, extending into the distance and fading away under the curtain of the grasses. Nature has taken over, and only left remnants of the structure that stands. The colors are vibrant but warm, bringing a sense of comfort to the scene, belonging. A soft green is present everywhere, also signifying nature is the most important part of the photograph.

Both the photograph and the High Line to me symbolize the power of nature in all aspects. It has the power to take back what we have built, taking over piece by piece, in between every railroad tie. But it also has the power to bring people together. Without its beauty, we would have never seen this park ever built. With its help, an important piece of New York’s history has been saved, and with it came the opportunity to bring a little of the outdoors to the middle of the concrete jungle.

 

Comments by Anton Goretsky

"It's interesting how you say that you felt like you were watching a play rather than a dance due to the style. I can say I definitely felt that as well. While the story or message itself may not have been entirely evident, you most certainly felt that one was being told, albeit without being too explicit. I honestly very much enjoyed this sort of "sly" form of storytelling, by invoking certain emotions with the often violent and sudden choreography too leaving only small clues with the setting. The audience was most definitely allowed to have the own interpretation of the artwork, and connect it with their own experiences."
--( posted on Oct 8, 2017, commenting on the post Similarities and Differences of Pina Bausch’s work )