There is something magical about that tiny window of time where all the museum workers have vacated the worksite and I am left to my own thoughts. It is a special kind of calm where my thoughts are not colliding but entering politely one at a time. So composed, so serene. I could get used to this pace but this window is fleeting but while it is here, I’m allowing myself a moment for mental stretching.
Recently I watched a PBS series about sleep and they discussed how sleep gives you the time/space to settle mental confusion. This struck me as appropriate because I routinely dreamed choreography threads for the rehearsals with my dance company. The dreams were vivid, I can still see them today. The human mind is remarkable like that because years later certain memories are clear as a bell. Sleep is always inspiring
One memory involves the beautiful performer, designer and artist Geoffrey Holder. Last year his son wrote a brilliant tribute to his father and described the last hours of his life. According to his story, Mr. Holder was choreographing and dancing not just to the end but through the end of his last breath. He is a huge inspiration. RIP Mr. Holder, even in death you are guiding us towards the joy of living.
Continuing this exploration of inspirations, I recall attending McArthur Genius Awardee Basil Twist’s “ballet without dancers” at Jazz at Lincoln Center’s Rose Theater. It was a trilogy of kinetic theater highlighting Stravinsky’s “The Rite Of Spring” with the St. Luke’s Orchestra performing the still haunting picturesque music. The “dance” presented was profoundly amazing puppeteering on all accounts because the scale and timing were pitch perfect. Mr. Twist has a knack for other-worldliness and he deserves high praise for delivering a masterful work. He calls himself a choreographer and one of his dancers referred to being Mr. Twist’s puppet during the lovely wine reception offered by the White Light Festival.
Finally the telephone is the supreme interrupter with different ring tone for different members of my family and friends. In this case my best beloved is letting me know he is hitting the train to come home. So my window just closed and it appears that a door is about to open for me to exit. Sweet dreams you’all.