Monthly Archives: October 2006

When the deep purple falls


Holy Trinity Church in Trinity Road at dusk on October 26th 2006‘Dappled light’ and the thing it refers to is one of my favourite words, and so I’m never happier than this time of year when you see light like the picture on the left, which is of Holy Trinity, Upper Tooting at around 5.30pm yesterday. It reminds me of that gorgeous lyric by Mitchell ParishWhen the deep purple falls over sleepy garden walls / And the stars begin to twinkle in the sky….”.

Young classical choreographers


As some of my dancing friends reach their early thirties, I often wonder at what point the press will cease to call them ‘young’ or ‘upcoming’. But I’ve discovered that if you want the secret of eternal youth, subscribe to the Dancing Times. For the princely sum of £1 (which was a lot of money once, I guess) you can get a ‘Dance Study Supplement’ from their bookshop called “Young Classical Choreographers”. The list in full comprises David Bintley, Michael Corder, Ashley Page, Graham Lustig, Susan Crow, Jennifer Jackson, Jonathan Burrows, and Michael Pink.

Without wishing to be ageist or insensitive to those stellar figures of the dance world, I am sure that last time I looked most, if not all of them, were quite definitely pushing 40 from the wrong side.

To order your copy of this fascinating document, visit the Dancing Times Education page. “Dancing Times makes every effort to keep abreast of changes in dance in education”, they assure us.

Exclusive claptrap


Let us rebel against poisonous academics and their preposterous claptrap of exclusion is an article by Robert Fisk about the way academics litter their disciplines with language that serves to mystify rather than clarify anything to anyone. I know what he means. Just look at this description of a ‘performed paper’ called musings on documentation: performative self-ethnography as a methodological tool for documenting practice as research in performance – and this is mild compared to some of the claptrap that’s out there.

I got out of bed the wrong side this week, and Fisk has inspired me to be even more impatient with such nonsense. What does all this mean, for example? And who cares? And why?