art, book reviews

A review of Don’t Think, Dear: On Loving and Leaving Ballet, by Alice Robb…

Several months ago, I went on an Amazon book downloading spree. That’s when I discovered Alice Robb’s book, Don’t Think, Dear: On Loving and Leaving Ballet, published on February 28, 2023. I purchased my downloaded copy on March 11th, and just now finished reading Robb’s fascinating book about the world of ballet.

I started reading Don’t Think, Dear last month, as we were coming home from our trip up north. I remember being delighted as I dove into the new book, which instantly captured my attention. Robb writes this book from the heart, as she was, herself, a serious dancer when she was growing up. For a time, she even studied at the School of American Ballet, which was co-founded by famed Russian born, but ethnically Georgian choreographer, George Balanchine. Mr. Balanchine is considered the “father of American Ballet”. He also founded the New York City Ballet, and was its artistic director for over 35 years.

Don’t Think, Dear, is a look at American ballet, particularly at the School of American Ballet and the New York City Ballet. Robb writes about the many hardships ballet dancers endure so that they can be on stage, looking incredibly graceful, athletic, and powerful. She profiles some legendary dancers like Gelsey Kirkland, Alicia Alonso, Suzanne Farrell, Misty Copeland, and Margot Fonteyn. But, Robb also writes about less famous dancers… ones who spent their entire youths working toward a goal of being employed as professional dancers. Only a few achieve that elusive goal, and many are left with permanent injuries, physical scars, and emotional problems at the end of their quests.

George Balanchine was famously picky about how his dancers were to look. He liked the women very thin and leggy. While today, artistic directors and choreographers are less blunt when they tell a dancer she needs to “lengthen” (lose weight), Balanchine would actually bark at them to “eat nothing”. If a previously anointed dancer fell out of favor with him, he would ignore her completely. As Robb points out, some of the women– like Gelsey Kirkland– would go on to develop severe eating disorders and addictions. Balanchine was also very jealous of his dancers’ attentions. They weren’t really allowed to date, unless they were dating him. If they did, Robb claims their careers suffered for it. Balanchine married and divorced four times before his death in 1983, and he had many other love affairs– all with his dancers.

Gelsey Kirkland dancing for “Mr. B.”

In between “vignettes” of famous and not so famous dancers, Robb writes about related subjects. For instance, she includes a very interesting passage about pointe shoes, and what it takes to break them in properly. Pointe shoes aren’t cheap, but new ones have to be beaten into submission before they’re any good, and that means doing everything from shaving them to putting them in boiling water. And even after that, they are extremely uncomfortable and leave dancers with bunions, broken toenails, and bleeding cuts on their feet. Someone did come up with a more comfortable shoe, but apparently dancers who use them are seen as wimps. Or, at least that’s what Robb implies. If you aren’t wearing your painful Capezios, you aren’t a serious contender.

Suzanne Farrell dancing Mr. B’s choreography as a Sugar Plum Fairy.

A couple of criticisms…

By her own admission, Alice Robb was a somewhat mediocre dancer herself. Yes, she got into the School of American Ballet, which was in and of itself an achievement. But she didn’t stand out from the crowd, and mostly just got small parts in the annual Nutcracker production. She does not possess the rare qualities that make someone a contender for a career as a ballet dancer. I’m not sure if that reality colored her view of ballet as a whole. I did get the sense, however, that Robb sort of has an ambivalent opinion of ballet.

Yes, there are some very admiring portraits of great dancers and their stories. Some of the benefits of studying ballet are discussed in Robb’s book. She writes about the feeling of flying when a dancer has a strong partner, and the thrill of being able to do more pirouettes with help from a male dancer. However, she also includes a lot of negatives about studying ballet.

Robb implies that dancers are basically conditioned to be extremely compliant by their very strict teachers. I came away with the idea that dancers are often prey to abusive, predatory men, or are basically beaten into submission by teachers who tell them not to “think”, but to “do”. Robb writes a lot about dancers who had to quit dancing due to injuries, as well as dancers who simply couldn’t cut it because of things they couldn’t help, like the ability to “turn out” properly or “bad feet”. And yet, in spite of all of that, Robb still dances “casually”. Obviously, there were some positives for her.

But overall, I liked it…

I enjoyed reading Don’t Think, Dear. I’m definitely not a dancer, so nothing Robb wrote was a threat or insult to me. I appreciated that her writing was good and mostly engaging. She includes a lot of sources for additional reading; I even ordered one of the books she referenced, even though it’s out of print. She also includes quotes from books I’ve already read, like Gelsey Kirkland’s Dancing on My Grave and Hilde Bruch’s The Golden Cage. The book is clearly well-researched, both by other written accounts and observations, as well as Robb’s personal experiences with ballet. I don’t regret falling down the rabbit hole of ballet through Robb’s pen, even though I thought it might be more of a personal memoir than what it is– basically a look at the world of American ballet.

So why did I read this book?

No, I’ve never taken a single ballet class myself, but I was exposed to ballet from an early age on account of my eldest sister, Betsy. Betsy is 13 years older than I am, and when I was very young, she was a pretty serious ballet dancer. We lived in England, which gave her the opportunity to audition for the Royal Ballet School. She was accepted, and finished high school by correspondence. Then, while we were still in England, Betsy moved home to Virginia and started college… all on her own.

Betsy kept dancing for awhile after her year in London. I remember meeting her exotic dance friends and attending their performances with my parents. I was enchanted by the music and colorful costumes, although it probably took awhile before I appreciated watching the dancing itself. I did once try on Betsy’s pointe shoes… and I don’t know how anyone could stand to wear them for more than a minute, let alone dance in them.

Years later, I ended up studying voice at the Eastern Virginia School of Performing Arts, which was primarily a ballet school run by a husband and wife. My teacher, Ron Boucher, is a dancer, but he was also a professional singer in New York. His wife, is Sandra Balestracci, and she has trained many wonderful dancers. She is also the mother of one. But before Sandra taught ballet, she was a great dancer herself. She even appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show.

I loved taking lessons with Ron, and watching the beautiful young dancers in their studio. I envied their discipline, grace, and youth, even though I was still in my 20s at the time, myself. So, you could say I’m a “fan” of ballet. I admire it, even if I can’t do it. 😉 Kind of like I’m a fan of women’s gymnastics, even though I’ve never so much as turned a decent cartwheel. Sigh… I miss performing arts.

Anyway…

I liked Don’t Think, Dear by Alice Robb, although I see it kind of gets mixed reviews on Amazon. Some people found the book too “wandering” and “rambling”. I suspect some of the people who read the book were looking for more of a personal story, rather than a general look at stories about ballet dancers. But, as someone who is just a ballet fan, I think the book is interesting and insightful. I would recommend it to those who are intrigued by it. I certainly have more respect for ballet dancers now that I’ve read Alice Robb’s expose.

As an Amazon Associate, I get a small commission from Amazon on sales made through my site.

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art, communication, dogs

German choreographer takes a big dump on his own reputation…

The day is still somewhat young, and I’ve already been engaged in an online debate with someone. This person saw an article I shared on Facebook about a German choreographer named Marco Goecke who was in the news because he smeared dog shit on Wiebke Hüster, a German dance critic. Ms. Hüster had been watching a ballet on Saturday night, and was taking a break from the performance, when Mr. Goecke suddenly appeared in front of her and did the disgusting deed.

Just that morning, Ms. Hüster’s negative review of Goecke’s latest dance, “In the Dutch Mountains”, was published in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. Mr. Goecke, who is the ballet director of the Hanover State Opera, is 50 years old and has a pet dachshund named Gustav. He confronted the dance critic, asking her why she had written such a negative review of his work. Then he pulled out a bag of excrement– presumably from Gustav– and smeared some of it on Hüster’s face.

Ms. Hüster, naturally, was shocked and started to scream. She has reported the incident to the police, and said that although she will still be a dance critic, her days of watching and reviewing Marco Goecke’s dances are over. Many people in the German dance world are left bewildered. From the article:

…much of Germany’s dance world is trying to understand why a respected choreographer would attack a critic, and whether it represented a sign of a damaging shift in how artists view criticism.

Prior to this incident, Goecke was a very highly respected choreographer. According to the article:

Manuel Brug, a critic for the German newspaper Die Welt, said in an interview that Mr. Goecke was “the most important ballet choreographer in Germany.” His signature style, Mr. Brug added, involving rapid arm movements, makes dancers look “like flying birds.”

I suspect Mr. Goecke will face some shitty consequences for his stunt. He has already been suspended from his job with the Hanover State Opera. In addition, Mr. Goecke is the associate choreographer at the Nederlands Dans Theater. Representatives from the Nederlands Dans Theater have stated that Goecke’s actions are contrary to their values. They have not yet decided what repercussions, if any, he will face for his antics. I doubt he will go to prison for smearing shit on a critic, but he’ll probably face fines and other unpleasant sanctions. We’ll see.

My position is that Mr. Goecke was absolutely wrong to physically attack Ms. Hüster over her review of his work. My friend’s position is that Ms. Hüster “had it coming”. So we had a bit of a back and forth about that. My friend’s take is that critics make a living “tearing down other people’s work.” My friend wondered how critics can sleep at night, earning money expressing negative views of people’s art.

I vehemently disagree that all critics make a living tearing down people’s work. In fact, given that critics are usually writers, I would say that what they do is also artistic. It takes talent and skill to write well constructed and reasoned opinions that interest other people. Moreover, no one is forced to read or heed the critic’s opinions. I have read plenty of opinions with which I disagreed. I have never felt it would be appropriate to physically attack the person with whom I disagreed, even if I was extremely opposed their views.

I used to write a lot of product reviews. I tried hard to be fair and balanced when I shared my opinions. It was very rare occasion that I couldn’t find something positive to include in my reviews, even if I really didn’t like something. I knew that my reviews helped people make buying decisions, but it certainly wasn’t the deciding factor. I’ve enjoyed entertainment that a whole lot of critics didn’t like. Their opinions didn’t stop me from enjoying things. They just offered a perspective. I am very opposed to the idea of squelching opinions, even if they’re negative.

My friend doesn’t like James Taylor’s music. I have never known this person to hold back opinions, so they were very comfortable letting me know that James Taylor isn’t their cup of tea. A few months ago, this friend also stated that they thought the beautifully prepared trout I was enjoying for lunch looked like someone had vomited on the plate. Personally, I disagreed with both of those opinions and actually felt a little hurt regarding the trout. It was delicious and beautifully presented, in my view. It’s not nice to yuck on other people’s yum, you know. But the idea that expressing negative opinions might be hurtful to me didn’t stop my friend from commenting.

What’s the difference? A talented newspaper journalist makes a living writing reviews. Some people care about their opinions, but a lot of people don’t. It’s a living. What they do is also creative.

As someone who makes his living in the arts, it should have been very obvious to him that alienating critics is not the best move for a choreographer. At the very least, it was completely unprofessional and embarrassing for the dance company, which is competing for audiences against a lot of other companies. At the worst, it was psychologically damaging and humiliating for Ms. Hüster, not to mention unsanitary and potentially unsafe.

It’s been said that all publicity is positive publicity. One might not like reading a negative review about one’s own work, but I think when it comes to the arts, a negative review is better than being ignored. Ms. Hüster is a respected dance critic who works for a major newspaper. She has said she won’t give Marco Goecke another chance. That means less publicity for Goecke AND the dancers, who are already in a tough business. Less publicity means less money. We all know that money is very important. Indeed, it makes the world go around. 😉

What Marco Goecke did may also have a “chilling effect” on other critics, which isn’t a good thing. It’s never a good thing to make people afraid to share their opinions. Sometimes, someone’s well-considered and constructive opinion leads to better and nicer things for everyone. In a free society, people should be free to express themselves and share ideas and opinions. If the opinion is that poorly considered, I would expect that Ms. Hüster would face consequences in the form of a demotion or job loss. She shouldn’t have to worry about her physical safety for practicing her craft as a journalist.

I would have been much more impressed by Marco Goecke if his response to Ms. Hüster’s criticism of his dance had been more like Tim Minchin’s. Tim once got a bad review by a journalist at The Guardian named Phil Daoust. Did Tim smear shit on Mr. Daoust for sharing his views? No… Instead, he used that review as fuel for another project. Behold:

Tim Minchin channeled his anger at Phil Daoust’s review into creating a new song… no shit involved, unless you count where he refers to Daoust as a “fucking poo face.” We all had a good laugh out of that, and Tim Minchin made some more money and fame.

You see, I think the sign of a true artist is channeling what they feel into something else. There’s nothing creative or artistic about Marco Goecke smearing shit on a woman’s face while she’s in public. There is no excuse for that conduct, even if some people think it was a funny thing to do (and it really isn’t– people laughing at this would NOT be laughing if it happened to them).

Marco Goecke should use his considerable artistic abilities to be constructive, stop dumping on his own reputation, and save the dog shit for the gray bin. That’s my critical opinion. 😉

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bad TV, celebrities, music, nostalgia

Kelly Ripa as a teen…

Last night, just before retiring for the evening, someone in a fun Facebook group I’m in posted this poofy video…

This video was from a show called Dance Party USA. It must have been a local series, since I never saw it in Virginia.

I think the person who shared this did so because of the song. It’s Debbie Gibson singing her hit, “Only In My Dreams”, which was a hit when I was a teenager. I was never a Debbie Gibson fan, but a lot of my friends were. I was familiar with the album this song came from, as well as Ms. Gibson’s formidable talent. Her music wasn’t my favorite, but like me, she has perfect pitch. Unlike me, she plays piano and composes her own songs. At least back in 1988, when she was about 18 years old, she had an appealingly girlish voice.

I got a kick out of this video. The fashions and hairstyles, while cringeworthy in 2020, were quite familiar to me. Some of the dance moves were good. Some were pretty hilarious. And then, there she was… the great Kelly Ripa.

Isn’t this cute?

I’m not a big Kelly Ripa fan, but I do recall seeing her in ads and hosting morning TV shows. I’ve never been one to watch those shows myself, but my parents did. And I know that Kelly Ripa, also two years older than I am, has gone on to become a television presenter and talk show host. Wasn’t she famous for taking over Kathie Lee Gifford’s spot with the late Regis Philbin?

I thought the above clip would be thrilling enough, but then I spied another upload featuring the great Rick Astley of “rickrolling” fame and huge hits like “Never Gonna Give You Up” and “Forever Together”. I actually kind of liked Rick Astley when he was popular, although it didn’t escape my attention that his songs all sounded quite similar.

Oh my dear LORD!

Rick seems kind of low key, especially compared to Kelly Ripa’s hair, which is permed to poodle perfection. Seriously, kids, if you want to know what we looked like in the late 80s, here ya go. Jesus Christ! And I thought the Bradys were tacky!

Ooh… Bobby Brown is showing off his moves!

I actually liked Pretty Poison. I wonder what happened to them.

I’m sure this was fun at the time. It’s kind of embarrassing now.

Here’s a more recent look at Kelly Ripa. She’s aging nicely. It helps to have professional makeup artists and hair stylists fixing her up. She now hosts Live with Kelly and Ryan.

I think those choppers have been used to sell toothpaste, too.

Ordinarily, I would post this on my music blog. Maybe I will post it there eventually, although I’ve kind of lost interest in that blog recently. Besides, Kelly isn’t a musician. She’s just a cutie pie who presents stuff on TV. I was pretty shocked to see her on Dance Party USA, though. I guess people have to start somewhere. I’ve read that that show was taped in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and Camden, New Jersey. They had a lot of cool celebs on there. According to their Wikipedia page, it looks like none of the hosts ever went on to the big time, unlike Kelly, who was apparently an occasional guest star.

I just can’t believe how quickly the past 32 years have flown by. It seems like yesterday, I was a teenager mucking out stalls and impatiently waiting to launch my life. It just goes to show that before you know it, you’re an old bat like me, with an aching back and lots of memories. Maybe shows like these took off after Sarah Jessica Parker, Helen Hunt, and Shannen Doherty made Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

I’ve never been one for dancing. Well, except for maybe slam dancing… a good slam dance was fun, especially when I was in my 20s and inebriated. I don’t dance anymore, so don’t ask me. I wonder if Kelly still does.

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musings

What inspired this?

I have a feeling this song was inspired by something besides sunshine and flowers…

Last week, I started watching the new show Fosse/Verdon, a series about Bob Fosse and his wife, Gwen Verdon. Ever since I saw the 1979 film, All That Jazz, I’ve been a fan of this famous Broadway duo. I also remember watching the 1985 film, A Chorus Line, in which their daughter, Nicole Fosse, starred. All That Jazz was based on Bob Fosse’s life; the movie, which starred Roy Scheider as Broadway choreographer Joe Gideon, ended with the protagonist’s rather surreal death, although Fosse lived until 1987.

This is one of the more memorable scenes in All That Jazz.

The first time I saw Gwen Verdon dance was on the old 1980s TV show Fame, based on the film of the same name. Gwen Verdon was a guest star, and she and Debbie Allen did a number. I gotta say, as talented as Debbie Allen is, I was left kind of awestruck by Verdon, who even in older later years danced like a dream.

She makes it look so easy.

I am not myself a dancer. My eldest sister got those genes and she was pretty good at cutting the rug– especially in ballet. Thanks to her involvement in dance, I was often dragged to ballets and other cultural shit when I was a kid. I developed an appreciation for it, even if I am myself somewhat unrefined about some things. Still, as I watched the first video in this post, I was kind of wondering what made Paul Simon come up with those sunny lyrics. Although I don’t know for certain, I kind of get the impression that maybe it was the green, green “grass” that has inspired so many artists over the years. Or maybe he was just high on life.

Listening to Simon’s lyrics, coupled with the strange “Dr. Suess-esque” set and Verdon’s own impossibly fluid dancing, makes me think the world would be a better place if more people enjoyed a little weed. On the other hand, it’s entirely possible that this number was inspired by the weirdness that was the 1970s. I only remember the mid to latter years of that decade myself, but to me, it was a magical time… probably because I was a little kid with no responsibilities.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I smoke weed myself. I’ve actually only tried it once, and that was in June 2015, when we visited Haarlem, in the Netherlands. Marijuana is legal in the Netherlands, so it was a prime chance for me to see what all the fuss was about. While I’ve heard that some people don’t like pot, I found it kind of relaxing and fun. It definitely made the drive back to Germany less dull. I think I could use another trip to Haarlem, not just for marijuana, but also because it’s just a really nice little city that manages to be quaint even though it sits next to Amsterdam. I had decided to stay there based on Rick Steves’ advice and several of Bill’s Dutch colleagues congratulated me for that. Apparently, Haarlem is one of the better kept secrets to visiting Amsterdam, which I found expensive, overwhelming, and not all that charming.

Anyway… watching Verdon’s floaty dance moves in her pink outfit, looking like she stumbled into Dr. Seuss’s world as she flitted and flowed to Paul Simon’s “groovy” lyrics made me wonder what inspired that number. And my thoughts about potential drug inferences might have come from Desperate Housewives, and a memorable scene set to “Feelin’ Groovy” as Lynette Scavo tries to deal with the chaos of dealing with four, young, very active little kids. A little better living through chemistry… quite tempting when things get crazy. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who got the connection.

Whoa… obviously I’m not the only one who gets the reference.

I actually meant to write about politics this morning. I’ll probably get around to it, after I pull the sheets out of the dryer. But anyway, I like Fosse/Verdon. Michelle Williams does a great job as Gwen Verdon and has come a long way from Dawson’s Creek. Watching FX’s new show reminded me of how lovely Gwen Verdon was and seeing that clip from the Carol Burnett Show was a treat this morning. It kind of makes me wish I’d taken some dance lessons myself.

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