Sunday, July 24 – “Howling Near Heaven” by Marcia B. Siegel
On Sunday, I started off at Dollop Coffee (cute place, but they sadly did not have any pie when I was there). After taking a break to march with FURIE (Feminist Uprising to Resist Inequality and Exploitation) at Blame the System Not The Victim, I went to Two Zero Three for the afternoon (it’s a fancier coffee/wine bar, but I liked it a lot).
This book is one I’ve been meaning to read for an awfully long time, since Laura Wade recommended it to me. I read maybe 1/4 of it before the quarter ended and I had to give Laura her copy back, so I was really excited to finally get to finish it.
This did not reduce my love for Twyla in any way, but it didn’t necessarily blow my mind–her own autobiography told me pretty much everything this guy told me. There were, nevertheless, a few themes that stood out to me.
The first is the use of technology. Tharp used video in almost every aspect of her artistic process; she would videotape herself improvising to come up with material and then sometimes gave videos to her dancers so they could learn off of the video (especially when she was very pregnant) and she was one of the pioneers of putting dance on film. It’s exciting to see those sorts of things–things that we talk about and discuss in classes–coming to fruition on the page.
Another interesting concept that Siegel brought out with more definition than Tharp was the difference between form and content, and which of the two Tharp chose to make more complex at any given point in time. In this setting, by “form” I mean the overall arc and structure of the dance, and by “content” I mean the actual dance movements themselves. Tharp, argues Siegel, started her work with complex form and simple content, and then switched it. I know that I personally haven’t really made the distinction before, but it’s a really useful way for my brain to think about dancing and creating dance.
Another thing Tharp did a lot that we continue to see in modern dance choreography today was allowing her dancers to have some liberty with the movement, and building dances around the dancers she had. This is something I can appreciate a lot as a dancer and choreographer; pieces always tend to be stronger if they play to the dancers’ strengths.
Finally, in keeping with my tracking feminism throughout these books, I must note that Siegel describes Tharp as “no outspoken feminist,” though her work does reflect feminist notions. Again, a question of intention vs. product.
(Sorry again, Grossman).