Degas ballerina sculpture … and meandering storytelling

Photo by Edie; sculpture on display at The Frick Pittsburgh, July 2018

I know Degas’s paintings for his ballerinas but I never knew he also made this sculpture – bronze with cloth for the tutu and hair ribbon. Cloth for the tutu and hair ribbon. It seems it would’ve been very unusual in his time period (1880s) to step outside the usual all-bronze cast.

When I googled the sculpture, it turns out that Degas did use an unusual medium, but not what I thought. His original sculpture was made using a real bodice, tutu, ballet slippers, and real hair – and cast in beeswax. The full sculpture was covered in beeswax except for the tutu and hair ribbon.

Apparently the bronze version (a number of them) was made afterwards by his heirs.

The sculpture by Degas received mixed reviews at the time, for numerous reasons.

I’m fixed on the cloth. I imagine an artist who sidestepped the classics because he had to go his own way, bringing the texture to life.

This makes me think of Nikki Giovanni who sidesteps the classics of poetry books when her writing moves among poetry, prose, mail correspondence, a movie:

From Whence Cometh My Help*

It should be a movie. Starring S. Epatha Merkerson as Ethel Smith. She would be driving down I-81 right before the Hollins exit. There would be some smooth jazz, a Coltrane piece from Giants Steps or maybe something by…

and then more poetry (Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea: Poems and Not Quite Poems). Giovanni and Degas both had to do their own thing, which makes great art.

Playwright Diana Burbano has recently written a blog piece about why fewer women than men seem to send plays out for production—even when invited, “qualified women will say no.” Burbano notices a number of wonderful plays by women that don’t follow “a strict narrative structure” (or classic structure). “Why isn’t it OK for these plays to change the way a story is laid out?” Burbano says; “I wonder if trying to shoehorn themselves into a rigid structure isn’t half the reason so many women feel uncomfortable submitting? Perhaps they feel they will never get it ‘right.’”

I agree with Burbano that we’ve got to keep sending out our plays, written our way. I’m ever optimistic that great art prevails. “The narrative is starting to change,” Burbano says: “People like me LIKE your meandering storytelling, and we are starting to be the people who will be the first to learn of your work.”

*From whence cometh my help: the African American community at Hollins College

Coming to Pittsburgh this year! SWEAT

Here’s the info!

Best plays read in 2018

Sweat & The Ghosts of Lote Bravo

I pay no attention to NAFTA, as the world of economics is someone else’s specialty. However, these plays that share the same side of the same coin, yet exist across the border from one another, bring NAFTA down to the gritty real world. Sweat by Lynn Nottage steps into a bar in Reading, Pennsylvania right at the time the factory workers find out a good amount of the equipment was snuck out at night-time and moved across the border. Nottage’s play goes beyond “down-and-out factory workers”; her main characters, because they encompass both people of color and Caucasian, bring complexity into the story that has rarely been seen in mainstream news or on the Broadway stage. Add to the mix where middle-aged women and their teenage sons are front & center, we get a vibrant moment in life since all the front & center characters get to speak more than 100 words. My favorite line: “Sometimes I think we forget that we’re meant to pick up and go when the well runs dry: Our ancestors knew that.”

Hilary Bettis knows this in her play, The Ghosts of Lote Bravo. Her characters haven’t yet gotten comfortable; they’re still looking for the right well. They search near the border upon the arrival of the US factories called maquiladoras; but the maquiladoras offer far, far, far, far less than a livable wage in a community where control is gained by those who levy the most violence. I read that the play was written in order to shed some light on the hundreds of women who, over decades, have turned up murdered. This play shows a community of people striving to work in an environment that the production notes write, “The stench of sweat, shit, and decay is so constant that people no longer smell it.” Hundreds is numbing. So this play brings us into the private lives of one mother and her teenage daughter.

Favorite line: A virgin knows nothing about the sins a woman must endure for survival.

If I were a theater, and if I could get the rights, I would produce these plays in repertoire where the audience could see either one of these first, have dinner to sit quietly and let the feelings surface in all their mess, then see the other one.

The character I most want to see on stage: La Santa Muerte, the Saint of Monsters and Ghosts.

Double Rainbow over Niagara Falls

In this photo I see 2 turning points, turmoil, and a resolution that leaves us longing for what's next.

Holocaust theme: Best books read in 2016-2017

I constantly go back to this theme. I find very well written books, and I find books published, I think, for the information regardless of the quality of writing. I care about the quality of writing when addressing this topic.  My favorite book, now, of all time is Ida Fink’s A scrap of time. This is a book of short stories, and I didn’t find any more books by Ida Fink until I did one more search, recently, on amazon. The short stories are, I think, autobiographical, and written not for the purpose of stating what happened so the world will know, but to re-experience what happened in its complexity in order to understand it. I read the book in 2016, couldn’t put it down. I came across it again in 2017 and, again, couldn’t put it down. Here is the opening of the book:

I want to talk about a certain time not measured in months and years. For so long I have wanted to talk about this time, and not in the way I will talk about it now, not just about this one scrap of time. I wanted to, but I couldn’t, I didn’t know how. I was afraid, too, that this second time, which is measured in months and years, had buried the other time under a layer of years, that this second time had crushed the first and destroyed it within me. But no. Today, digging around in the ruins of memory, I found it fresh and untouched by forgetfulness. This time was measured not in months but in a word—we no longer said “in the beautiful month of May,” but “after the first ‘action,’ or the second, or right before the third.” We had different measures of time, we different ones, always different, always with that mark of difference that moved some of us to pride and others to humility.

Survival in Auschwitz, by Primo Levi. I’m constantly drawn to how people survive. Like Elie Wiesel’s Night Trilogy, this particular book of Levi's is very well written and insightful of what life was like in the death camps and what type of decisions people made in order to survive even though the act of survival was “by chance” with no rhyme or reason based on what people did to try to survive. I did learn, however, that anger helps us live. When the Kapos beat the prisoners, they actually saved their lives because the anger in response to the beating produced energy which was vital to extending life.

All that I am, by Anna Funder. What a fantastic novel of everyday life at the time Hitler became chancellor and the first resistance group that tried to tell Germany and the world what a danger he was. Again, a story of courage in the face of life and death by people who couldn’t sit still. While we may all like to think we’d do the same, this book brings us to the reality and fears, unlike the Hollywood movies that make us feel victorious because we already know the ending of the movie where we survive. I also read this novel as Trump entered the White House and Facebook was filled with dread and horror and questions of “am I over-reacting” etc. Beautiful writing—here’s the opening:

When Hitler came to power I was in the bath. Our apartment was on the Schiffbauerdamm near the river, right in the middle of Berlin. From its windows we could see the dome of the parliament building. The wireless in the living room was turned up loud so Hans could hear it in the kitchen, but all that drifted down to me were waves of happy cheering, like a football match.

Best non-fiction read in 2016-2017

An uncommon soldier: The Civil War Letters of Sarah Rosetta Wakeman, alias Pvt. Lyons Wakeman, 153rd Regiment, New York State Volunteers, 1862-1864, edited by Lauren Cook Burgess. I read this book for the collection of letters written by a woman soldier who snuck into the Civil War as a man, which was apparently common for women looking to get paid for their work. As research for a series of one-act plays I’m writing that takes place during that time period, this book is very insightful for the culture as well as for how people talked.

Best poetry read in 2016-2017

Of Poetry & Protest: From Emmett Till to Trayvon Martin: The editors Philip Cushway and Michael Warr first proposed this book of poetry in celebration of the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech, and as they were putting the book together the Black Lives Matter movement took off, so the editors redirected the focus. Each poet provides a statement of her/his evolution and purpose as a poet, followed by one poem. The editors chose an image to go with each poem. In choosing top, dynamic poets, and providing “historical and cultural underpinnings from which these poems arose,” the editors created a book of art accessible to poetry readers as well as non-traditional poetry readers. The editors noted that many of the poets cited Gwendolyn Brooks as their influence and mentor. I noticed that many of the poets began publishing with Cave Canem, which makes me infinitely proud of writers who make a home for voices otherwise not heard. For an anthology, 18 women poets to 25 men poets could be improved, but it’s better than most. The poets, also, are across generations. Too many favorite poems for me to call out a favorite, but I do tend to gravitate to the Emmett Till poems.

The nerve of it: poems new and selected, by Lynn Emanuel. My favorite thing about this book is that Lynn mixes up old poems with new in order to make for a new reading experience. That’s the first I’ve seen this done, and it works beautifully. Lynn creates various projects, writing poems vastly different from one another. My favorites: “inside gertrude stein” and “Halfway through the book I’m writing.” I studied the opening lines of each poem to understand how Lynn pulls us in:

(a) In the cooking pot my aunt's long spoon pets the lamb's

In the cooking pot [INCITING INCIDENT] my aunt's long spoon pets [ACTION VERB] the lamb's [UNEXPECTED, TENSION]

(b) in the teary windows, the woodlands heave

in the teary windows [INCITING INCIDENT; METAPHOR] the woodlands heave [ACTION VERB, TENSION]

Dear All, by Maggie Anderson. Favorite poems: the title poem, and “The Sidney Lanier Best Western Motel in Gainevsille, Georgia, I think of the great Polish poet” – because what I learn from each poem actually changes my life. This is what the poets Judy Grahn, Pat Parker, and Adrienne Rich did for me when I was in my 20s, and here Maggie is doing it for me now. Wow.

If I write it this way, will it be doable?

Come From Away, the musical about 9/11

Whenever a playwright wonders – If I write it this way, will it be doable? – all they need do is study this script and watch the performance. Irene Sankoff and David Hein moved the stories of close to 7000 people stranded from their flights and 9000 people who lived in Gander, Newfoundland, into numerous characters through 12 actors for a play that could be performed by the full ensemble or by even fewer actors for small stage sets. And the full ensemble is basically onstage for the duration. Here’s a wonderful interview with the writers and cast member and Tony nominee Jenn Colella. I saw the musical at the Ford’s Theater in DC.

A contemporary musical I could see again and again!

It’s puzzling

It’s puzzling why I haven’t bought a ticket yet for The Color Purple, the musical.

I was introduced to the story through the movie first, and still believe this film shows the absolute best performances by Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey. When the film came out, I saw it over and over and over. My favorite lines:

When Sophia says “Get my children out of here”

Shug: I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple…and you don’t notice it”   

Celie: Her entire dinner speech 

Then I heard one of the writers in my feminist writers’ group comment how the movie was sculpted as a film about him, rather than staying to the story about her. So I knew I needed to read the novel. Yet, I resisted reading the novel because it was so long and I’ve had trouble getting into novels in general. I pushed through my resistance and Alice Walker’s book is among the best I’ve ever read where I learned that a way to write history into a story is to show the effect on the character’s current life.

As I keep re-watching the film (however painful it is), I could probably look at how the screenplay focuses on him, but director Steven Spielberg certainly lets the best acting come out of his cast – we’re there; and no matter how many clips I look through to say “my favorite” – it’s just too, too many. Who played young Nettie in the film? Ah! Akosua Busia. Who can beat this performance?   

Alice Walker on the novel and the film.

I may be afraid that the musical won’t live up to the film or the book. Stop it. I mean really.

Next time the musical comes to Pittsburgh, I’ll be there.

FUN HOME, the musical

 Fun Home – Yes!

Best plays read in 2016-2017

Fun Home: A musical based on Alison Bechdel’s graphic novel Fun Home – When a young woman comes out, it unravels other family secrets where family members are now able to confide in one another. Favorite song: “Changing my major”.  This musical is the first Tony Award winner where the book, lyrics, and music composers are all women - Lisa Kron (lyrics, book) and Jeanine Tesori (music).

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Credit: Pittsburgh Playwrights Theatre Company

Miss Julie, Clarissa and John, by Mark Clayton Southers (2016) - Inspired by August Strindberg's Miss Julie, Mark places the storyline in the US reconstruction-era in the South. This play that deals excellently with the various characters' complexity was also produced in the 2017 Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland.