Posts Tagged ‘Dance’

More sexist crap about ballet

Sunday, March 7th, 2010

I was looking for a sentence in Rupert Christiansen’s article in last week’s Telegraph (‘The New Recruits to Ballet’s Boot Camp’) that might serve as an example of a new kind of sexism and homophobia that I see embedded in so much journalism about ‘boys’ ballet’.  I gave up, because I might as well quote the whole article, starting with the title.

The title says it all: you can talk about ballet as long as you couch it in masculine terms: discipline, boots, camps, recruits. Bye bye to all that girly stuff, ballet is for men. If you knew how hard it was, how abusive the training could be (I’m not making it up, the word ‘abuse’ is used further down in the article as a positive term), you might not worry about your son wanting to take it up. “It’s not effete, it’s not wimpy,” says Christiansen, in a paragraph which includes the words “Billy Elliot”, ” highly athletic”, “energised”, “testosterone”, “physicality”, “competitive sport” and “nifty backflippers”.

We move on, predictably, to Balletboyz. Guess what, Michael Nunn and William Trevitt are “visibly and audibly regular guys. Married with children, they radiate a likeably lippy attitude”. Oh well, that’s all right then: as long as they’re not gay or anything. I’m intrigued to know what ‘audibly regular’ means: I guess it means they don’t have a lisp, they swear a bit, and can usefully erase any trace of  the plummy accents they might have picked up in Floral Street, and don’t talk about art or anything effete like that.  Likeably lippy. Regular guys. Good for them. And, continues Christiansen, “they have popularised the idea of men dancing with an intense physical intimacy that doesn’t automatically radiate homoerotic overtones”. I think they have a while to go before Balletboyz could be classed as popular culture, but aside from that,  what’s so wrong with homoerotic overtones? What was Stonewall for?

In any case, the point about overtones, if the metaphor is borrowed from acoustics,  is that they’re overtones, not fundamentals, the things that give a note its timbre rather than its pitch: I wouldn’t mind betting that it’s the homoerotic overtones that make it interesting, otherwise you might just as well watch wrestling. In fact, I’d rather watch wrestling than watch two men dancing without any erotic overtones.

Why do I think this is sexist crap? Well, all those words that envelop male ballet with respectablity such as athletic, physicality, competitive sport and energized are equally true of female dancing, if not more so: after all, in classical ballets, men get an easy ride while the women are dancing away on pointe – it may look pretty, but it’s harder work than gesturing nobly from the side of the stage.  There are at least two solos in the ballet repertoire where the music now used for male solos – big ‘butch’ and loud – was originally written for a woman.

But this is to miss the point again: we shouldn’t have to defend ballet by saying ‘don’t worry, it’s all quite masculine really’, or try to butch it up by aligning it with athletics, machismo, discipline, (sports) science and taking all the eroticism and vulnerability out.  That’s an archaic model of masculinity which is as dull, oppressive and misleading as the ultra-pink and sparkly patina of ballet as seen in popular culture. Celebrating the ‘manliness’ of ballet – and this article is only one of many – is insidiously sexist and homophobic in its implicit denigration of everything conventionally regarded as ‘feminine’, or not conventionally masculine. It’s the small change of hate and violence and it leads nowhere. Oh, and it’s completely untrue, too. Ballet may be tough, it may be physical and challenging, but there’s nothing ‘normal’ about men who do it, whether they’re straight or gay.  That’s why they’re interesting  and wonderful people.

If ballet dies as an art form, it will be this that kills it.  There is a side of ballet which disrupts and challenges, offers alternatives to mainstream machismo, and celebrates the beautiful, the exotic and the unusual, femininities and masculinities.   Take that away, and what’s left? Me, I’ll be watching Beautiful People, thank you very much.

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“Push a little button”

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

This is the nicest story I’ve come across for a long time. Ninette was a student on a course I taught  on the BA (Hons) in Dance Education at the RAD a few years ago. All of a sudden, a song she recorded when she was 15 found its way onto the new licence fee adverts, and now the song’s been re-released after all these years.  Unfortunately, I never recorded a song for PYE when I was a kid, so I’ll never know what it feels like to have this happen to you, but I can imagine!

There’s a facebook group “Push a little button and help get Ninette to Number 1!

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Moira Shearer on ‘The Red Shoes’

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010

A wonderful 1994 interview with Moira Shearer who played Vicky Page in the Red Shoes. If you ever for a moment thought that the real-life dancer (or the dance) had anything in common with the film, think again.

The Red Shoes is one of the best places to find  evidence of all the things the books tell you about the social construction of composers as male geniuses, and women as brainless bodies, so helpless in the presence of music that they dance themselves to death while the men carry on enjoying a taste of immortality without actually having to die just yet. There is an insidious misogynist violence about the film, insidious because the misogyny is carried out with the excuse that it’s all in the name of art, and art transcends life, so that’s all right then.

At one point, Lermontov silences Vicky with a swipe of the hand that looks like he’s slapping her, and then raises his index finger as if to put them on her lips to shut her up: “I will do the talking. YOU will do the dancing!”

Well it’s nice to know that Vicky/Moira Shearer  finally does get to do the talking, and what she’s got to say is far more interesting.

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Johann Strauss the African

Monday, February 8th, 2010

Andre Rieu’s album of Strauss Waltzes and other bon-bons, Forever Vienna, is number 1 in the classical album charts this year, and beat Susan Boyle’s album in the top ten of the pop album charts.  This isn’t  particularly fresh news, even though the BBC only reported it today: the Telegraph had the same story on 18th January.

It’s interesting how this story has been kept out of the mainstream media, but not altogether surprising: it’s just not damn cool enough. Philip Tagg, musicologist and specialist in popular music studies delivered a wonderful speech in 2000  called ‘High and low, Cool and uncool, music and knowledge: Conceptual falsifications and the study of popular music’ in which he showed how popular music studies is prone to a ‘cool’ agenda where music which is genuinely popular doesn’t get studied because it’s not ‘cool’.  On a straw poll he conducted at the conference, he found that there was only a 27% likelihood of the Blue Danube being studied on the popular music curriculum (compared to 92% for the Sex Pistols  God Save The Queen). Rieu’s first album in 1995 apparently beat Michael Jackson’s in the European charts, but that’s not going to be a popular story. How uncool does that make us. All those ‘Cool Britannia’ years, with MPs singing pop songs and inviting rock stars to No. 10 were a misrepresentation on every level: they should really have had Susan Boyle and Andre Rieu in Downing Street.

What I like to believe about this story is that it shows just how important the body in music is. “Waltzes were not meant to be conducted,” [Rieu] says firmly. “I lead with my bow, my head, my whole body, just as Johann Strauss did.” (source).  Will ’serious’ music ever get this kind of audience, without some kind of movement involved? Did ballet evolve as a means of making up for the boredom of sitting in the dark watching an orchestra?

Perhaps the most challenging thing here is the racist stereotype of the starched white urban European compared to the globally southern native, in touch with their body, a Descartian split across racial lines with the European as the brain, and the African as the body.  Heinrich Laube, describing  Johann Strauss I in 1833 wrote:

The man is black as a Moor; his hair is curly; his mouth is melodious, energetic, his lip curls, his nose is snub… Typically African too is the way he conducts his dances; his own limbs no longer belong to him when the desert-storm of his waltz is let loose; his fiddle-bow dances with his arms; the tempo animates his feet; the melody waves champagne glasses in his  face; the ostrich takes a swift run preliminary to beginning his  flight . . . The devil is abroad.

From Jacob, H. E. (1940) Johann Strauss father and son: A century of light music. (Wolff, M., Trans.) New York: Greystone Press. Available from Internet Archive.

As Dahlhaus wrote in The Idea of Absolute Music, our concept of what music was in the 19th century is skewed by the fact that we got aesthetically fixated in the 20th century on ‘absolute music’, whereas in the nineteenth century this was just an ‘enclave’ as Dahlhaus puts it, in a mass of what we’d call popular classics – opera, romances, virtuoso pieces and salon music and so on.

So perhaps we shouldn’t be so surprised if Strauss makes it to the pop charts. In the wider scheme of things, Strauss played by a violinist who moves is probably going to be more popular than rock music played by someone who stands still, because we like movement. The popular/classical divide is a misleading category, and it’s the omission of the body that misleads, as this story illustrates beautifully.

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Taruskin on ballet music

Monday, January 25th, 2010

Taruskin, Volume 4

One of the excitements of this year is being able to afford a volume of The Oxford History of Western Music. I snapped it up in Blackwells the other day, when I noticed that there was an entire chapter devoted to ballet music. I always glance through the index of music history books to see whether ballet gets a mention at all, or whether, as usually happens, it gets either erased altogether, or is treated like not much more than a bit of sellotape annoyingly stuck to the great big walking boot of serious music.

Knowing that Taruskin is one of the few people in the serious music world to admit that ballet happened at all in Western culture, and that he’s written at length about Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky’s ballet music, I was hopeful.

And indeed, there it is in chapter three, under a heading ‘A MISSING GENRE’,

“It is time to confess to a scandalous omission. An entire genre, with a history extending back as far as the sixteenth century, has been virtually missing from this account of Western art music, and it is high time to redress the neglect.” (Richard Taruskin, The Oxford History of Western Music, p. 131)

There are still big gaps, and a tendency to discuss the big names more than the people who kept the whole enterprise running (imagine a history of 20th century music that mentioned  Andrew Lloyd Webber only in passing, before moving on to a meaty interpretation of West Side Story), but it’s a darned good start.

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Chout-ed and booted

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

Another cautionary tale for choreographers: Alexey Miroshnichenko’s new (kind of )work for NYCB The Lady with the Little Dog is onto its second score (this time around, by Rodion Shchedrin) since the Prokofiev estate refused Miroshnichenko permission to make cuts to Prokofiev’s score of  Chout (The Buffoon). The choreographer had planned his piece around the score, but was denied permission only weeks before the show was due to open last January. A surprisingly humourless affair for a ballet called Buffoon. Enter Rodion Shchedrin who allowed Miroshnichenko to make cuts to his own score.  So they postoned the premiere a year, and on it goes tomorrow with the new score: The full story from the New York Times

I just wish there was only one story like this – but I’m beginning to collect them.

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Jumping in Red Shoes

Tuesday, January 5th, 2010

Oh the suspense!

Searching for an online script of The Red Shoes I came across this great page which has all kinds of interesting details about the making of the film. One thing in particular interested me:  apparently director Jack Cardiff in his 1997 autobiography Magic Hour wrote:

“I had a gadget made to change the camera speeds during a scene so I could go from normal speed to double speed [48 fps]. This was used to great effect when a dancer leapt in the air; just before the apex of flight, I slowed the action for a fraction of a second, so that they appeared to hover in the air.” (From The Powell & Pressburger Pages)

Over the years, I’ve heard some ballet  teachers offer this is a kind of ‘correction’ – “hold!” or “suspend!”, together with an explanation that this will give an illusion of hovering.

So was Cardiff attempting to do something which is part of what real dancing looks like? Or did he contribute even more to the belief in the possibility of an illusion that is only achievable with a camera trick?

My guess is a bit of both, and that music can play a role too: it’s possible to give an illusion of suspension in music by subtly lengthening a note (an ‘agogic accent’), which in effect is the aural equivalent of what Cardiff was doing – slowing down the passage of perceived time at a crucial moment.  Maybe for musicians this is part of what playing well for dance means: knowing what to do to contribute to the illusion.

Another interesting fact about the film is that the 17-minute ‘ballet of the Red Shoes’ took six weeks to film. I’m just going to go away and ponder that.

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