Don Giovanni

Entering the opera house in Lincoln Center, I knew I would be in for a great experience. Lincoln Center itself has one of the grandest atmospheres in Manhattan, and walking in that area, especially dressed-up and ready to go to the opera, is a special moment in New York City. After learning about Don Giovanni, I was curious to see how the performance would compare to my expectations. From the libretto, research, and discussions in class, I already formed my opinion that Don Giovanni was a tragedy. From the opening, Leporello complains about the trying life of having Don Giovanni as a master. Don Giovanni does not care about the morals of his servant; he pushes Leporello into vile acts so that his greedy thirst for women can be quenched. This behavior is completely self-centered, as it puts Leporello in a moral bind – and that is only the opening scene. From there, Don Giovanni is seen escaping from Donna Anna’s bedroom, which indicates a possible rape and he kills Donna Anna’s father while leaving. This man’s lifestyle cannot be characterized as merely indulgent or the womanizer lifestyle. This is a terrible man. While he may be humanized in the opera, it is also important to not that the opera was once called “The Rake Punished, or Don Giovanni,” acknowledging his evil deeds. The finale, his death, is a proclamation that those who sin are ultimately punished. But while in the opera, I did not feel it was performed as tragically as I’d hoped. I knew that Mozart wrote Don Giovanni to go smoothly from serious to comedy, but I felt like the plot should be done in a more serious manner, so that the audience does not lose sight of the fact that he is committing terrible crimes. In the opera house, I felt that Don Giovanni was taken more as a comedy that a tragedy.

The opera also takes on the heavy subject of class, at a time when class was very important to a person’s entire being. In Mozart’s illustration of the relationship between Zerlina and Don Giovanni gives a very clear distinction from the relationship between two members of equal status. He feels that he can easily persuade her to fall for him with the temptation of money, status, and the mere flattery of having a nobleman interested in her, and she is interested. Donna Elvira, on the other hand, is persuaded by a promise of love; he does not offer her anything but himself in that relationship. Similarly, Zerlina and Masetto have a purer form of love that is similar to the love between Donna Anna and Don Ottavio. The only two people of different statuses who seem to have some sort of equality in their relationship are Don Giovanni and Leporello. While Leporello is Don Giovanni’s servant and has an obligation to act upon his request, they have some sort of mutual respect.

Music in the opera played a crucial role in relaying the message of each scene. Especially in the intimate scenes, such as Don Ottavio’s aria, the music was key. The lyrics alone simply do not demonstrate the intense emotions, as they are often repetitive and simple, but the music has depth. This is how the viewer can see into the emotions of the characters, by the way they are sung and performed, rather than by the actual text, which is more of a skeleton for the rest of the performance.

After seeing all of our more contemporary performances this semester, it was very interesting seeing such an old art form performed in a similar setting. While there are a lot of differences between the old and new, the universal themes of Don Giovanni allow anyone to feel some connection to the characters. A reminder of our history, it is comforting to think that everything we are going through has, in some form, been experienced by our ancestors. The opera is a reminder of our past, a reminder of those who came before us and experienced those same experiences we are now. While we have modern technology, opera stand to show that some things don’t change. Despite this, I found the opera to be a different experience from other, more modern experiences. The feeling of entering an opera theatre is much more formal than any modern performance I have attended. It has an antiquated feel, which is natural, but also comes with a distant reverence that modern performance has tried to shatter by crushing the boundaries between high art and everyday culture. The opera is something untouchable, and while this can be off-putting for some, it also makes the opera a special experience.

 

Meira

House/Divided

After watching the Builder’s Association’s production of “House/Divided,” I feel like I have a new prospective on media in performance. The performance was filled with media, using it as the set, but also as a featured character. The presence of media in the mortgage crisis was a pivotal difference from the Depression era, to which this financial era was compared. The Depression era was brought into the story using the classic novel “Grapes of Wrath,” by John Steinbeck. While in that time the story of financial wo was spread by this novel, something everyone in that time period read and felt deep in their core to ring true with themselves and their surroundings, this era uses media to explain their troubles. All over the news, media announces the very personal struggles of the millions. Whether on the televised news, the papers, blogs (another revolution that is only used very lately), or radio, the pain is everywhere in the media, while in the Depression era there was less ability to spread news, as there were fewer media through which the news could travel.

The play compared this financial crisis to the Depression, which is not a far leap. But an additional difference that was made is the presence of corporations. These are businesses which often employ thousands of workers – workers who rarely have any choice to do anything but their job. There is no opportunity for kindness. As mentioned in the after-show discussion, the scene in which the cruel man from the Depression times lends the poor mother a nickel for sugar would be impossible in this era. The workers at big corporations could not offer assistance unless there are commands from higher up. It is much like soldiers often have no idea what they are doing when they work in an operation, they merely listen to their commander for orders, hoping that those above them know what they are doing. 

This play reinforced my support of Auslander, that is, media can enhance performance. I think that the idea this play was using, bringing in media to show the difference between the individual story and the massive companies, was brilliant and stark. On the other hand, much like the woman who fervently argued against the play’s ability to reach the audience, I think that the production could have been pared down quite a bit to emotionally connect with the audience. This follows the Phelan view, and though the play utilized media well, I think there needs to be a balance so that the audience is not over-stimulated.

 

Meira

Caretaker Study

For my Caretaker Study, the first person I thought to portray was my mother. She loves and cares about me and my siblings, it is evident from her poses. In my realistic pose, I am showing my mom in a specific situation. Her face is questioning me, wondering why my siblings and I made a silly error. The moment that I associate with this face just shows how strong her expressions are. The night of the accepted students reception for Macaulay, my parents were away. I carefully planned how to get to the reception from school, but when it came to getting back, I was nervous about traveling so late. I wanted to get home as fast as possible, and took the express train instead of the local. At the end of the line (which was closing for the night), instead of my neighborhood of Riverdale, I was in Harlem, and had no clue how to get home. Luckily, my siblings used the internet to find me a bus ride home, but when I told my mom about the night, she was shocked. Of course, she felt terrible for being away while I was in distress, but I could feel her giving me this stare as she asked me why I didn’t just call someone to pick me up. I knew she was giving me this look, because just from this face I know there was an obvious choice that I did not see. Somehow, this face makes me aware of the obvious choice — only it is usually after the fact.

My abstract pose is also of my mother. Despite everyone’s best guesswork, this pose was meant to reflect my mother’s caring nature. She works as a social worker with children below the age of three, so of course she loves babies. This pose, the fetal position, is meant to show this love of children and her care for family. She puts so much energy into creating a close family and raising me and my siblings well, which continues to amaze me. It is quite the challenge, bringing up two sets of twins that are only two and a half years apart. But somehow, she and my father have done a great job. Her caring and natural motherly nature has shaped the four of us in innumerable ways.

Meira Harris

Pina Bausch and post-modern dance

Pina Bausch’s “…como el musguito en la piedra. ay si, si, si…” is not post-modern dance, as the concept of the dance is opposing with the ideas in post-modern dances. “…como el musguito en la piedra. ay si, si, si…” is about sexuality and the relationships between men and women. She portrays this concept through humor, but most see grains of truth within the segments of the show. For instance, when one of the men is sitting in a seat on the stage, flattering every woman who walks past him as if she is the only woman around, one after another. This is performed in a humorous manner, exaggerated and repetitive in the action, but the audience recognizes some honesty in the scene. The concept of the dance focused on the body ad sexuality as central parts of our world. In post-modern dance, the focus is on movement. It is about movement for movement’s sake, often times, while this is about the body that is moving. This is about the person who is moving.

Pina Bausch was known for asking the dancers questions about memories they have from there lives. They would use these memories to build scenes and dances which evoked the emotions of real life. This technique is all about bringing the world and emotion into dance by using real human emotions to create the dances. “…como el musguito en la piedra. ay si, si, si…” most likely came from such techniques, as there are so many different legitimate emotions toward the topic of sexuality, love, and relationships.

In Pina Bausch’s dance had elements of post-modern dance, such as the moment when the girl in the loose white dress danced around in fluid, natural motions. Her segment was one of my favorites, and it has elements of post-modern dance, but the piece was theatrical rather than post-modern style. The girl was set on the stage in a similar position to a dog, but she reminded me of a horse. She posed quietly, peacefully in the corner, only to be approached by two men. When picked up, she screamed, and they were shocked and needed to set her down to calm her. They repeatedly made the mistake of picking up this girl, who I saw as a wild horse. Ultimately, the wild horse is trained so that she will trot in circles at a safe distance, separated from the men by a pole. When she is freed, she moves naturally and beautifully. This piece contains the simplicity in her motions of a post-modern dance performance, featuring minimal lighting changes and basic costumes. But she the dance is quite theatrical and poetic, which does not jive with the ideas of post-modern dance. As Pina Bausch said, she was “not interested in how people move but in what moves them.” This idea is prevalent throughout “…como el musguito en la piedra. ay si, si, si…”

 

Meira

Snapshot Day

I had never thought of myself as a photographer before. I still don’t. But after coming back to the Noguchi Museum in Queens, my mind insisted on focusing on great photographic opportunities. While at the museum, I imagined taking photos of the sculptures – and having photos taken of me looking at the works from wacky angles. Coming back, I saw a sand artist at Union Square, and I couldn’t help but think of the wonderful image the vibrant colors would create against a backdrop of gray-blue cement. I bumped into my photographer friend, and he convinced me to turn my ideas into my own pictures. We walked around, and I used his camera to create the images for the ideas that I had, instead of telling someone else to take them. These images were not spectacular occurrences, but everyday scenes. I knew I wanted to do something similar for Snapshot Day.

While I was riding the M15 bus to school in the morning, I knew this was my set. An excuse to take pictures of strangers, capturing the definition of the public transportation relationship? Perfect. Everything fell into place: I saw the bars of the bus and was inspired to take the photo in this spot. When I looked closer at the people, I felt even more compelled to take it, as the men had interesting facial features, such as the mustache on the man in the purple sweater. The purple sweater added a pang of bright color to the photo.

What I focused on in the frame was actually the woman looking over to see what street the bus was approaching, which is not in the frame. This reminded me of the photos we saw in class, which tried to bring the perspective out of the frame. To achieve this effect, I tried to used the Rule of Thirds, with the pole in front of the woman about a third into the picture and the man in purple’s face at the intersection of one vertical and one horizontal line. I also turned the camera so that the lens was guided toward the woman’s gaze. The lack of a visible gaze shows the disconnect between members of New York City — at least while riding the bus.

 

Meira Harris

I had never thought of myself as a photographer before. I still don’t. But after coming back to the Noguchi Museum in Queens, my mind insisted on focusing on great photographic opportunities. While at the museum, I imagined taking photos of the sculptures – and having photos taken of me looking at the works from wacky angles. Coming back, I saw a sand artist at Union Square, and I couldn’t help but think of the wonderful image the vibrant colors would create against a backdrop of gray-blue cement. I bumped into my photographer friend, and he convinced me to turn my ideas into my own pictures. We walked around, and I used his camera to create the images for the ideas that I had, instead of telling someone else to take them. These images were not spectacular occurrences, but everyday scenes. I knew I wanted to do something similar for Snapshot Day.

While I was riding the M15 bus to school in the morning, I knew this was my set. An excuse to take pictures of strangers, capturing the definition of the public transportation relationship? Perfect. Everything fell into place: I saw the bars of the bus and was inspired to take the photo in this spot. When I looked closer at the people, I felt even more compelled to take it, as the men had interesting facial features, such as the mustache on the man in the purple sweater. The purple sweater added a pang of bright color to the photo.

What I focused on in the frame was actually the woman looking over to see what street the bus was approaching, which is not in the frame. This reminded me of the photos we saw in class, which tried to bring the perspective out of the frame. To achieve this effect, I tried to used the Rule of Thirds, with the pole in front of the woman about a third into the picture and the man in purple’s face at the intersection of one vertical and one horizontal line. I also turned the camera so that the lens was guided toward the woman’s gaze. But while I find the gaze interesting, the lack of a visible gaze shows the disconnect between members of New York City — at least while riding the bus.

RoseAnne Spradlin’s “beginning of something” – Dance Review

Leaving the bright lights of the New York Live Arts lobby, the audience members of RoseAnne Spradlin’s beginning of something descended into the dark performance space. Passing the rows of unused chairs where the audience typically sits, this audience sat around the stage, a raised rectangular platform. The area was made smaller by cutting off the unused area with bead curtains, which RoseAnne Spradlin, the choreographer, said was an attempt to make the space more like her past performance spaces. She worked in small, intimate spaces before, so the setup of this dance was very natural. All the seats were surrounding the stage and in close proximity to it – close enough for the dancers to make physical contact with the audience, which they utilized later on in the dance. To increase the flow of light and enclose the area, mirrors were placed on the walls and reflective beads were used as a wall. As a nude woman played the bass guitar in a dark corner of the stage, the light hit a mysterious shiny object in the middle of the stage, and the show began.

From the beginning of the performance, the drama was intense. The woman removed the bass and gave it to the band. She stepped onto the stage just as the notes of “Don’t Make Me Over” began by the live band. She strutted toward the mysterious object, bent down, and put it on, a crown and collar of beads. Swaggering around the stage, she was joined by three other women, all partially dressed and looking far less confident. The women kicked and leaped, all the while vying for the audience’s attention and attempting to impress one another.

A powerful section is when the women reach out to the audience members, touching their hands, looking deep into their eyes. This is different from most other performances, as the dancers do not typically reach out. But in this performance, how relevant it was. Reaching out, asking the audience if they can see the true self inside the dancer. They are human, and this was an important idea throughout the show. The facial expressions were crucial to the performance, as this is where so much information about the dancers’ emotions was expressed. The fear, the anxiety, the anger – all this came through on their faces. One part of the performance also expressed these emotions so clearly. The women were strutting, then began leaping, screaming swear words and groans of sheer frustration. Their tension was distressing. Suddenly, a seizure-like attack hit them, and the women stripped into nakedness, stripping fears and allowing themselves to be free.

As they stomped across the room dressed, the tension was fierce, shown in their faces and abrupt motions. The nude women, on the other hand, smiled and beamed while striding about. The women cast off the ideas of perfection, using their differently shaped bodies to address and banish the notion that dancers must have a specific body type. The performance left all of the audience raving, as the ideas of the dance – that beauty and the individual go hand in hand – are inspiring for all.

Meira

Analytic Post-Modern Dance

Analytic Post-Modern Dance is a technique different from past styles. This new movement uses movement almost exclusively as the means of performance. While other styles use costume, lighting, set, etc. to express the meaning of the show, Analytic Post-Modern Dance kept anything besides the dancing simple. Dancers tended to wear ordinary clothes, and the stage is usually well-lit. The dancers did not need to be professionals; furthermore, they did not even need to dance, necessarily. Some Analytic Post-Modern Dance consisted of the performers eating, some the dancers were nude and expressing sexual imagery. The concept was that dance is only considered as such because it is put in the context of dance.

Trisha Brown was part of the Analytic Post-Modern Dance movement, but the pieces we watched were not Analytic Post-Modern Dance. The dancers were trained professionals in both “Glacial Decoy” and “Solo Olos.” They danced freely, with non-traditional motions, but this is not all that Analytic Post-Modern Dance includes. They were in costume, had a set, and had lighting.

Despite this, one might see this as Analytic Post-Modern Dance, as these factors were very limited. In ballet, for example, the costumes are specific and expressive. The lighting helps move along the narrative and the set gives a setting for the narrative in ballet. In Trisha Brown’s dance, the costume, set, and lighting merely create a stage for the dancers. The focus of the dance was entirely on the movement, which is the essential point of Analytic Post-Modern Dance. 

Meira

Stella’s Self-Portrait

Stella Chin always seems peaceful and collected. Her smile is ever-present, her laugh a constant. So it only make sense that her smile be the main point of her self-portrait. But Stella used her smile in a way that is different from what I am used to seeing. In Stella’s performance, she holds up a smile to her mouth. By doing this, Stella shows the audience a vital piece of who she is – her happiness. But that is not all. She then moves the smile to cover the rest of her face, which I interpreted to mean that she was using a smile to hide. She must have been nervous standing up there in front of a classroom full of peers and a professor, as we all were. Stella used her smile to hide her discomfort. This may be a reflection of her actions in general, though it may also be for this single event. The self-portrait was short and simple, taking up a minimal amount of space, only the area where she was standing. This minimalism allowed for her message to be clear. But her self-portrait was not just her performance. Her laughter at the end is a sigh of relief, a shine of energy. This laughter affirms the performance that Stella gave. She may get scared, but she’ll always have an inner happiness.