City Scene: Sunderland Club, Buenos Aires

Having grown up in the Soviet Union, I thought I have seen it all in terms of unorthodox approaches to solving everyday problems. But a recent trip to Buenos Aires disabused me from my imperial arrogance. The two photos above were taken at the legendary Sunderland Club, a neighborhood sports center where serious tango is danced on a seriously challenging floor of a basketball court (how it is possible to play basketball on that floor is another question). On the night that we visited, some 600 people packed into the hall to watch the final of an inter-milonga championship. To display a PowerPoint slide with the names of the finalist couples, the projector was suspended - extension cords, power strip and all - from a basketball net more or less above our heads. When I saw this, my heart hiccuped with nostalgia and I realized that we've been outplayed. Bow to the masters of temporary solutions, children!

Violentango at Argentinian Consulate

Violentango at the Argentinian Consulate, 5.5.15

On Monday night, at Valeria Solomonoff's consistently enjoyable Tango Playground Practica, I exhorted my partners to be present without ambivalence, misbehave and “milk it” - "it" being all the particularly delectable morsels of music and movement. I noticed that those born north of about 25-30° north latitude are often inhibited when it comes to this to-do list, and I myself, hailing all the way from 60° N, am no exception.

No such exhortations were needed on Tuesday evening at the Argentinian Consulate, where Violentango played a free concert. Whether or not their music has much to do with violence or with tango (although, at least according to Borges, tango has always something to do with fighting), these guys know how to go for it with a vengeance and not just play music, but play with the music of two generations before them – their grandfathers’ tango and rock music of their parents, plus a gamut of other voices and influences, – and make it all sound intriguing and contemporary. A little over a week ago, Astoria Tango Orchestra performed with Daniel Binelli, – and it was great to hear and dance to the traditional sound of orquesta tipica. The music of Violenango is not for keeping milongueros on their feet, but it is also traditional in the sense that it is made of the same ingredients: talent, skill, and inspiration of the players, with nothing canned or boxed other than some juice to amplify the sound of their instruments – two guitars, bandoneon, electric bass and percussion.

‘Tis a season for conversions in my artistic tastes: never a big fan of new tango music, I went to the Consulate with a pragmatic purpose – to scout out the space for a future event, – and was pleasantly surprised to discover Violentango and their unadorned sound. They played their own compositions as well as a couple of pieces by Piazzolla and a few oldies but goodies, such as Milonga de mis amores, which lends itself well to instrumental inventiveness and embellishment. Musically, these guys know how to misbehave and milk it for what it’s worth, with improvisation, ingenious sounds and quotes from a variety of styles, from jazz to folkloric, thrown in with cleverness, virtuosity and humor. It occurred to me that, unlike traditional tango, this music has the momentum to go somewhere, as it allows itself to be discontented and seek a way to escape its own status quo or upset it, out of its own abundance, boredom, mischief, or subversion – or just for the heck of it.

There are plenty of Violentango videos and recordings online, but they do not give you a sense of energy that these guys whip up while playing live. It is, quite simply, great fun to watch them make noise in front of you. There is indeed power in doing – not with 1s and 0s, but with one’s body and mind, – and seeing and understanding how music is being made by five people is quite entertaining. Plus, to be honest, as my own biological usefulness dwindles, my appreciation for good XY chromosomes only grows – and there was plenty of that on display. I was happy to see that the audience at the Consulate reacted to the music of Violentango with enthusiasm that was not immediately predictable – because most of the people in the room were old enough to be these guys’ parents.

Violentango plays four more concerts in NYC: May 6 – Shrine, May 7 – Silvana, May 8 – The Parkside Lounge, May 9 – The West End. Find the details on Violentango website and go see these guys play live for a dose of good music and terrific energy.

Violentango: Adrián Ruggiero (bandoneón), Juan Manuel López (guitar), Santiago Córdoba (percussion), Ricardo Jusid (bass), Camilo Córdoba (guitar)

Program: Le Petit Rhone y la Cigale; Fuga y misterio; Menos sol; Escape porteño; Milonga de mis amores; Napoleon; Barceluna; Milonga del Angel; Libertango

Tango and Babushkas

Mariana Parma and Leonardo Sardella in 2013 production of Recuerdo Tango.
Photo from Mariela Franganillo Dance Company website. 

Yesterday I spent half a day attending a production of Recuerdo Tango, a show by the Mariela Franganillo Dance Company, this time performed at Kingsborough Community College, in far, far Brooklyn. In my graduate school years, I used to live in Sheepshead Bay and thought nothing of commuting every day to NYU, but now, after a decade spent living in Queens, that part of Brooklyn has become almost a different planet. And it is on that planet of Brighton Beach pensioners (and a few of their grandkids), Mariela & Co. have decided to perform their show, as a residency at On Stage At Kingsborough supported by the CUNY Dance Initiative. This production model has its upsides and downsides: without these residencies, the show would most likely have never been staged, but as a residency, it is performed only once (or very few times) and does not bring the performers any returns except for a chance to be on stage and receive public and media attention.

Last time Recuerdo Tango was performed in 2013 at the Michael Schimmel Center for the Arts at Pace University, which, besides being a much more accessible location, has long traditions, such as Inside the Actors Studio, a deliciously addictive and insightful series of interviews with well-known actors. You can watch Recuerdo Tango taped at Pace online: Act 1 and Act 2.

Yesterday’s production was performed by (almost) the same cast as in 2013: Leah Barsky, Hernan Brizuela, Carlos Cañedo, Ana Padron, Mariana Parma, Walter Perez, Leonardo Sardella, and Yaisuri Salamanca, with LA-based Marcos Questas stepping in as a guest artist to replace Diego Blanco. Four women and five men – and there lies the hook of the story, which features a series of vignettes about a love triangle unfolding over several decades against the backdrop of the New York City life. From office cubicles to a glitzy ballroom to a subway brawl, a bar fight or a domestic quarrel, to a shabby old café, a dark city street, or Central Park, the story flows with knowledge and humor through familiar city scenes. These scenes unfold both onstage and in video segments in the background, accentuated by the powerful performances of singer Sofia Tosello and accompanied by live music of piano, bandoneon, violin, and bass, which add another layer of complexity to the production.

Until recently I had been convinced that tango does not lend itself to a longer form than a ten-minute tanda or a three-minute exhibition. Too much of a good thing is not great, I thought, especially considering all those tropes and clichés with which stage tango has overgrown like an old ship with barnacles. But after seeing a recent production of “milonga” at the New York City Center, a wonderfully imaginative dance show based on tango choreography by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, and then Recuerdo Tango, I converted, noting with surprise that an hour-and-a half tango show can indeed successfully and pleasantly hold my attention.

Yesterday’s performance was thoroughly enjoyable, although it felt a touch more measured and calculated than the 2013 production, which was performed with delightful abandon. One big difference between the two shows was the audience: in the 2013 video, you can hear the audience at Pace applaud at appropriate moments, but good luck getting the Brighton Beach retirees to clap mid-show! On my way out of the theater I heard a couple of them say to each other, “Very pretty dancing, but I didn’t understand anything!” Oh well. Elderly Russian-speaking Jews are perhaps the most receptive audience for the guts-on-the-floor emotions of tango, but a dance trio on a subway train may be a little outside of their comfort zone. The babushkas were pleased though, judging by the vigorous applause after the show.

For me, this was yet another occasion to remind myself of the great good luck of having access to the concentration of talent and professionalism that the New York City tango performers and teachers have to offer. I wonder why this city cannot take them up on this offer more frequently and enjoy more of such shows and performances. It is also always fascinating to observe a transformation that occurs onstage to people you know: Yaisuri was the person who taught me my very first tango steps, Walter and Leonardo are my current teachers, Ana and Diego host the practica that I used to frequent, Mariela is a long-time host of another old haunt, and a few friends study or studied with Mariana, Hernan and Carlos.

On the bus on the way back, I overheard a creaky voice of an old woman speaking Russian: “We old folks ought to kiss every pebble here. I haven’t done anything for this country, but it gives me so much: SSI, cheap apartment, food stamps, Medicare, everything I need!” Wow, I thought, on Brighton Beach this is decidedly a minority view. I also doubt that anybody from my generation is in any danger of ever receiving the goodies from that bus philosopher's list. And I also reflected on my lean, yet somewhat structured existence as an office worker compared to the complete unpredictability and lack of security of a life as a dance performer. Perhaps it was not by accident that as I left my building on my way to the show, I saw on the ground a book with a missing cover and a title: Among the Brave. To brave folks then – and to the good memories of New York City!

Pre-show sidewalk oracle near my building.

Credits:

Recuerdo Tango, The Mariela Franganillo Company, May 2, 2015

Directors: Mariela Franganillo and Bob McAndrew

Assistant Choreographer: Cecilia Saia

Music Director: Pedro Giraudo

Musicians: Emilio Teubal (piano), Juan Pablo Jofre (bandoneon), Nick Danielson (violin)

Vocalist: Sofia Tosello

Dancers: Leah Barsky, Hernan Brizuela, Carlos Cañedo, Ana Padron, Mariana Parma, Walter Perez, Leonardo Sardella, Yaisuri Salamanca 

Guest Artist: Marcos Questas

Design: Barry Steele
Lighting: Jimmi Lawlor

Production Manager: Calvin Anderson

NYC Scene: Campo del Cielo Meteorite

Fragment of Campo del Cielo meteorite
Astro Gallery of Gems, 5th Ave. at 38 St.

If you find a chunk of ore

Take it to a New York store.

Here the price is always right -

They will sell your meteorite.

Killer Heels

At the “Killer Heels: The Art of the High-Heeled Shoes” exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum of Arts (until March 1), one item is accompanied by a quote from an 18-century Dutch comparative anatomist Peter Camper (1722-1789):

"The wealthy women walk... by reason of the height of their heels, on the fore-ends of their feet, and consequently, very badly; they walk... like the majority of quadrupeds - on their toes only."

(Dissertation on the Best Form of the Shoe, 1781)

Yeah baby! Finally someone said the truth!

How I Chose My First Dance School

When four years ago I decided to start dancing tango and needed to find the right place to learn, I sampled several dance schools in Chelsea – NYU area. Triangulo and Dance Manhattan provided fabulous moments of low comedy, but were not a good fit and were thus rejected. Next on my trial-and-error list was Sandra Cameron Dance Center, which at the time rented space at 440 Lafayette Studios. When I arrived at the 440 Studios for an introductory class, the first thing I saw after stepping out of the elevator was a large sign written on the wall: THE ROBERT MOSS THEATER. It was a much bolder and rougher affair than the sleek, but anemic version installed since then and pictured above. My fate was sealed. I decided to follow Robert’s skillful way of navigating by coincidences, everyday oracles, and personal symbols, and chose to interpret the writing on the wall as a sign that any place where a Robert Moss runs the show was the place for me. For the next three years, I reaped generous rewards of this decision.

But "Where are they now?" Dance Manhattan closed in November 2014 (see DM RIP on Robert Bononno’s excellent blog Tango High and Low). Sandra Cameron closed her studio in the summer of 2013. Triangulo is still alive and kicking. Jeni Breen, who used to lead the tango program at Sandra’s studio, formed her own Jeni Breen Tango Academy and is still teaching at 440 Studios, under the newly gentrified glass sign of the Robert Moss Theater.

NYC Scene: Another 2nd Avenue Cross

Epiphany Church, New York. Photo: LB

Epic leak from higher source:

Conquer Evil with the Force!

Aim above the red brick wall,

Toss One Ring to Rule Them All!

Here is another oft-seen, yet never consciously registered place on Second Avenue that I have discovered lately. The Roman Catholic Epiphany Church in Gramercy (239 East 21^st Street), a Modernist creation by Belfatto & Pavarini constructed in 1965-67, looks appealing in bright light, but at dusk its windowless façade stirs up thoughts of Mount Doom and Red Square. The original Church of the Epiphany of Our Lord was founded in 1868 on the site of Rose Hill, the mansion of Horatio Gates, the Revolutionary War hero and the victor in the Battle of Saratoga. This rather grand church with a single tower was designed by Napoleon LeBrun, who designed several other churches in New York and Philadelphia. In 1963 the church was destroyed by a gigantic fire. Four years later the new building on the same spot was dedicated by the powerful and controversial Cardinal Spellman. 

Epiphany Church, 2nd Ave façade
stained glass above the entrance

The Epiphany Peace Garden nearby is dedicated to the neighborhood people who died in 9/11 attacks. A plaque on the fence honors Tadeusz Kosciuszko, another hero of the American Revolutionary War and the leader of the 1794 Uprising in Poland. In America, Kosciuszko distinguished himself as a military engineer who constructed, among others, the fortifications at West Point. Kosciuszko participated in the Battle of Saratoga and served under Gates’ command, and a plaque commemorating his visit to Gates’ Rose Hill estate in 1797 was installed on the fence of the Epiphany garden. This plaque reads: 

Estate of General Horatio Gates (1728-1806) Victor of the Battle of Saratoga 1777

Major General Tadeusz Kosciuszko (1746–1817)

Colonel of Engineers in the Continental Army (1776–1784) – designer of the fortifications at West Point, veteran of the Northern and the Southern campaigns – the patriot of two continents stayed here 10–29 September 1797 – to visit his former commander – to renew friendships forged in the struggle for American liberty – & to mourn the passing of comrades-in-arms. He received here the sympathy & well-wishes of New Yorkers for his daring & gallantry in leading the Polish Insurrection of 1794 against overwhelming invading forces. He is as pure a son of liberty as I have ever known, and of that liberty which is to go to all, and not to the few and rich alone. Thomas Jefferson to Gates 1798.

Erected 1997

Epiphany Parish * Knights of Lithuania * Kosciuszko Foundation * Pilsudski Institute * Polish-American Congress * Sons of the Revolution NYS 

Plaque commemorating
Kosciuszko's visit to Rose Hill in 1797

For the New York drivers, the Kosciuszko Bridge, first opened in 1939 and now doomed for demolition and replacement, is a frequent source of frustration as a bottleneck between Brooklyn and Queens. However, another Kosciusko Twin Bridge (on the way upstate a "z" got lost), over the Mohawk River near Albany and Saratoga, in my personal geography leads to happier places - to the Gore Mountain in the Adirondacks.

Photos: LB 2013

NYC Scene: Climbing the Walls

24 Bond Street, New York

Golden dancers by Bruce Williams (1998)

People climbing up the wall

Wearing naught but coat of gold:

These days NoHo prices sting,

Choose between your pants and bling!

I must have passed by this building on Bond Street (24 Bond Street, between Lafayette and Bowery) dozens of times before, but never paid attention to it until recently an out-of-town guest pointed it out while we were walking up Lafayette Street. With a fresh eye, my guest has spotted these golden figures on the wall of an old house, "dancing ivy", as one blog called them. 

A brief search revealed that the gold figures on the outside of the building were created by Bruce Williams in 1998 and had to be approved post factum (and not without resistance) by the NYC Landmarks Preservation Commission in 2008, when NoHo Historic District was expanded and absorbed Bond Street. It appears that the figures were installed in two batches: the first group perched in front of the second story window followed by the second group that climbs higher up the wall on the left side, which was added around 2010. The authors’ sketches suggest his ambition to extend the dancing troupe all the way to the roof. Note that not all of these agile creatures are human, a few are well endowed and put their assets to good, if naughty use.

The Landmarks Preservation Commission Report (which contains interesting historical information and numerous photos) describes 24 Bond Street as a store-and-loft building constructed in 1893 by Buchman & Deisler, the architectural firm that also created Nos. 21 and 42-44 on Bond Street and a number of other buildings in the city.

Earlier in the 20^th century, the building was occupied by businesses (paper box, photo engraving, and artificial flower companies), but after the decline of the manufacturing in Manhattan in the 1970s, a different crop of inhabitants moved in. Between 1972 and 1989, the space on the second floor was occupied by the studio of Robert Mapplethorpe (1946-1989), a famed photographer known for his sleek, yet shocking black-and-white images. In the 1980s Mapplethorpe moved his studio to a loft on 23^rd Street, which was purchased with the money provided by his long-term companion and mentor Sam Wagstaff (1921-1987), but maintained a darkroom in the building on Bond Street. Both Wagstaff and Mapplethorpe died of AIDS. Not long before the photographer’s death, the Mapplethorpe Foundation was established to promote his work and artistic vision and to support the HIV and AIDS research. A collection of Mapplethorpe prints is kept at the Guggenheim Museum. A video report about a recent exhibition of his photos can be found here (exquisite and explicit).

Update 7.7.13. A rare case when Google's snooping on me (and haven't we heard about this lately?) turns up something useful: here is an interview with Patti Smith, the legend of punk rock, who was Robert Mapplethorpe's lover and lifelong friend, about her memoir of their relationship, Just Kids, quite interesting. To refresh my memory, I listened to her Horses (that is her portrait by Mapplethorpe on the album cover) and was surprised to discover how enjoyable it was.

Since 1986, the ground floor has been used by the Gene Frankel Theatre. Gene Frankel (1919-2005), an influential theater director and acting coach, was one of the key figures in the creation of the Off Broadway scene in the 1950s and 60s and won three Obie awards for his productions. Apparently at one point the theater on Bond Street had its share of troubles with the Landmarks Commission because of its brightly painted facade, and the Commission seems to have won, because now the ground floor looks low-key, if not pristine. 

Photos by LB 2013

Kykuit: A Patchwork Fairytale

Kykuit, view from south-east.

Kykuit (KY-kit or KY-cut, from the Dutch for “lookout”), the Rockefeller estate in Pocantico Hills near Tarrytown, NY, is like a fairytale: to enjoy it, you must accept its logic and suspend your disbelief. If you ask questions, especially those that start with a “why?” (e.g., “Why did Cinderella’s father marry a shrew and let her mistreat his daughter?”), the tale instantly loses its charm. So is Kykuit – delightful and enchanting on its own terms, when the rules of the outside world are placed on hold and the back story is forgotten.

Milonga with Eric Jorissen

Eric Jorissen at Tango El Corte.
Screenshot from "This is El Corte!" film.

This was my third workshop with Eric Jorissen at Dance Manhattan. The previous two workshops about a year ago focused on colgadas and volcadas and were so well attended that there was barely any room to move, just like in a milonga. This time there were fewer people, plus I was in the middle of an energy dip, so I was phoning it in most of the time. However, looking back, I conclude that this workshop was useful.

Eric first observed the group dancing (oy vey!) and pointed out that many people were making quite large steps. Eric then proceeded to define a “footprint” of milonga as the length of the step that one can firmly take without reaching or lifting the heel of the leg that bears the weight before the step. This distance is surprisingly small, about shoulder width. Eric then asked the group to step and transfer weight from one foot to the other. The easiest direction to step out of the "footprint" area is forward. There was hardly any problem making small, tidy steps sideways or back, but the temptation was great when stepping forward. Since the leader mostly steps in forward direction, it is up to him to set the scale of this movement. The feet stay close to the floor; and the faster the pulse of the music, the smaller and cleaner the steps become.

NYC Scene: Riddle of the Girdle

74 St & 35 Ave, Jackson Heights. Photo: LB

Drop a shoe or half a dress

To become a new princess.

Monarchs are in short supply –

Time to let that girdle fly.

NYC Scene: Junk in the Trunk

5th Avenue at Washington Square. Photo: LB

Too much sitting in one place

Isn’t good habit for one’s waist.

It’s a fact, you must agree:

You’ve got flab, - and you’re a tree.

NYC Scene: Bike Share

Rental bikes on LaGuardia Place, New York; photo: LB

If your life has lost its spice,

You should try this new device:

Risk and thrill by Money Mike,

Rent today a Citi bike!

Gancho, Tibetan Style

Lords of the Charnel Ground, Tibet, 18th century,
Rubin Museum of Art, New York

Take a look at the double gancho (leg hook) executed by the Tibetan lords of charnel ground, who dance ecstatically to celebrate their joy of being free from attachment. These deities are brother and sister. The brother wears a garland of freshly severed human heads, and the sister wears a garland of dried skulls and holds a staff and a golden vase. They are revered as powerful protectors.

The prayer on the back of this plaque says (according to the Rubin Museum exhibit description):

“Eliminate misery from harmful spirits, fire, water, and lightning, the perseverance of ill-will, robbery, thievery, and harmful underground and earth spirits; in short, protect from outer, inner, and secret adverse conditions from today until attaining great awakening.”

Photo: Tatyana Rector

NYC Scene: Not My Problem

ABC Store, Jackson Heights, Queens

If your tail is flat and bony,

But you wish it weren't as scrawny,

Your defects are yours to hide:
Reupholster your backside!

In the Temple of Goddess Louisa

The Cloisters, New York

Once I was given the following meditation task: “Imagine being a minor deity. Create your own cult. Build your own temple. Be as decorative and aesthetically excessive as you wish. Do not edit or judge.”

I was inspired by this exercise, and part by part, quite effortlessly, my temple sprung into existence.

The first discovery that I made was an unexpected color scheme. I have always considered deep jewel tones – burgundy, ultramarine, purple, and emerald green – to be my colors. But my temple began to emerge in a much lighter and more subdued palette of moss-eaten stone, weathered yellowish and gray marble, light purplish pink of heather, deep green of pine needles, and light ochre of sand. A large compound of stone buildings quickly grew in front of my mind's eye, with arches and galleries, spacious chambers and quiet cloisters. Fountains and basins filled with water appeared in many places and filled the space with reflections and gentle sounds.

Сон: Цитирую Гребенщикова на том свете

Photo: www.russianlook.com

Я нахожусь где-то на том свете, хотя ещё не померла, и вместе с другими обучаюсь всякой премудрости. Нашим обучением руководит Главный Дух, дядька средних лет в голубой рубашке и штанах-хаки, который выглядит как слегка потёртый школьный учитель. Мы, учащиеся, разыгрываем скетчи и сценки, которые должны объяснить нам какие-то мистические концепции на наглядных примерах. Одна из изучаемых тем – это прижизненные преображения души в результате всяких перипетий и испытаний. Главный Дух что-то объясняет по этому поводу, а я его и спрашиваю: “Это что, как у Гребенщикова про йогина, который ночью на кладбище отсекает привязанности, скармливая себя "голодным духам":

Они съедят его тело,

Они выпьют кровь до дна,

И к утру он чист-безгрешен,

Не привязан ни хрена. ”

Главный Дух отвечает, “Ага, именно так”.

* * *

I am somewhere in Otherworld, but not dead yet. Together with others I receive instruction in otherworldly wisdom. The proceedings are supervised by the Chief Spirit, a middle-aged guy in a blue shirt and khaki pants, who looks a bit like a slightly scruffy school teacher. We the students play-act various scenes and sketches that are supposed to expound different mystical concepts using simple examples. One of the studied themes is the transformations that the soul undergoes, while still dwelling in the body, as a result of various trials and tribulations of earthly life. The Chief Spirit explains something about this subject, and I ask him (in Russian), “So, is it similar to what Grebenshchikov wrote about a yogi, who severs attachments at night on charnel ground and feeding himself to the hungry spirits:

They will eat his body,
They will drink his blood to the last drop,
But by morning he’ll be pure and sinless,
Not attached even one bit.”

The Chief Spirit responds, “Yeah, exactly so.”

* * * 

Boris Grebenshchikov is an influential figure in late Soviet and later Russian popular culture, as a rock musician and the frontman of Aquarium, one of the oldest and most prominent Russian bands. Grebenshchikov is a prolific songwriter and frequently includes ideas and images borrowed from Buddhism and other Eastern philosophical traditions into his songs. His songs thus possess certain quasi-profound or mystical charm, which many people find attractive. I have never been a big fan of Grebenshchikov’s art, even though we finished the same high school, so it is all the more curious that I chose to quote his song in a dream.

Сон: Чапаев на пляже

Я стою на пустынном пляже, руки в боки, и, щурясь на солнце, оглядываю окрестности. Со мной ещё двое. Наконец кто-то из нас троих произносит: "И на фига этот идиот Чапаев снова распахивает Куршскую косу на своей тачанке?"




I am standing on a deserted beach, arms akimbo, surveying the seaside. There are two other people with me. Finally one of us says, "Why the heck is this idiot Chapaev plowing the Curonian Spit on his tachanka again?"

* * *
Vasily Chapaev is a historical character turned cult figure of the Soviet era folklore and a hero of numerous off-color (but many of them very funny) anecdotes. The Curonian Spit used to be a border zone, and during the Soviet rule its dunes were indeed regularly plowed by tanks, in order to expose any tracks crossing this strip of land.