One of my favorite things about Clybourne Park is that its connection to Hansberry’s classic is subtle. If you aren’t familiar with the scenario of Raisin or the Younger family, Clybourne Park still provides two meaty scenes: Act I is an a unflinching look at the claustrophobia of suburban life during the Eisenhower era, and Act 2 is a noisy, hilarious tableau of our disconnected present. (more…)

I’m pleased to be your new blogger about classical music, and to be sharing this space with the esteemed writer from Symphony Magazine, Jennifer Melick. A little about me: while yes I too am a freelance journalist, I’m mostly a composer. So I’ll be bringing you things from that perspective, writing about concerts I’ve seen (or intend to see), CDs I’ve come to love (or not), books I’ve read, etc. Also I’ll share a little bit about life as a working artist in the trenches of New York City, my favorite place on earth.

I’m a huge believer in and enthusiast for “the blog” as a medium. I’ve run my own for years, and I think it is not only an important outlet, but is now an entrenched part of how we as thinkers (not to mention do-ers and consumers) shape our world. I read people’s thoughts online all the time—be they the thoughts of a volunteer or a professional writer at, say, the Times. Either way, this kind of fluid content is how information now gets passed, and I’m honored to be part of it in this professional capacity. And if this is my job—writing about the thing I love in the city I love—how hard is that, really?

This weekend, for example, is pretty choc-a-bloc full with musical events—which is good because as a chore I’ll be spending the next few days trapped in an airless room at An Important Musical Organization judging a competition. It’ll be not only good but necessary to counter that. Tonight I’ll be seeing that much-adored harpist-songwriter Joanna Newsom at Town Hall. (I am set to love her, I really want to love her, but so far I’m not loving her—tonight I hope will change all of that.) Tomorrow night, at Galapagos in DUMBO to hear Archipelago, which is apparently a great group (it will be my first experience with them)—though I’m really there to hear my friends soprano Melissa Hughes and composer (and singer!) Matt Marks perform his own piece, “The Little Death.” Both of these are sponsored by the formidable New Amsterdam Records, one of those “indie” labels that is genuinely independent. And Matt’s music is rangy and fascinating, like little other music I know—an oddly delicate send up of a lot of Christian pop, pop culture, and deep into issues of sex and death.

Past that, on Saturday night, I’ll be at the Juilliard School in the brand new state-of-the-art performance space, the Rosemary and Meredith Wilson Theatre, to hear one night of the Beyond the Machine festival. While I am there to hear my friend Paola Prestini’s piece “Listen, Quiet” (she is an absolutely fantastic composer: highly recommend her CD Body Maps on the John Zorn’s Tzadik label), I’m also looking forward to works by Edward Bilous, Kiresten Kelly, Michelle DiBucci, Milica Paranosic, Jakub Ciupinski and Cristina Spinei.

Somewhere in there, I’ve a piano trio (which is a piece for piano, violin and cello) for the Finistera Trio and a whole passel of teaching to do, so it promises to be the busiest of weekends. But full of music, which is how I like it.

Oh and if you cannot get to these events, do yourself a favor and get a copy of Osvaldo Golijov’s La Pasión Según San Marcos on the Detsche Grammophon imprint. It’s a fantastic piece in a stunning production. It’s what I’ve been listening to these last few days. Well—well—worth it.

Despite all the live elements, the most powerful artifacts in the show, curated by Klaus Biesenbach, are the wall labels. Without them, we most likely wouldn’t get the point of all the action. Besides provocation and shock, this is one consequence of conceptual/performance art, and a testament to the power of language—the ideas are so powerful that the re-enactments can be secondary. It was curious how unaffecting the re-performances of Point of Contact (1980) and Relation in Time (1977) were; perhaps it was the sterile enclosed white cube setting, the inherent stillness, or the necessity for the audience members to spend more time. And I only felt sympathy for the naked woman in Luminosity (1997)—straddling a bicycle seat, suspended high in the middle of a wall, she engaged viewers’ attention, only to have them hurry away in embarrassment. And yes, part of the point is to make people confront their own limitations, so mission: accomplished.

Abramović endures as one of the most compelling performance artists of her generation, which induced (or incited) viewers to complete the works by participating. She has created high-strung tension with viewers by daring them to manipulate her body with dangerous implements lying near her; the caveat being that she—in theory—took full responsibility for their actions, no matter how dire (Rhythm 0, 1974). Performances that tested her and Ulay’s physical limits and capacity for pain remain vivid in the many videos in the exhibition. She has created quieter, haunting works such as The House with the Ocean View (2002), which entailed living for twelve days in a suspended habitat in Sean Kelly Gallery, with the only ostensible egress down a ladder whose rungs were knives.

In the last decade or so, Abramović has undertaken re-performing well-known performances by other artists, including Joseph Beuys and Vito Acconci, arguing that they need to be kept alive. But these performances are the result of an individual in a moment in time. They are otherwise documented by what fellow performance artist Chris Burden calls “relics”—artifacts from the performance—and the standard video and photography. “Individual” can’t be emphasized enough, since the artist’s persona, mythology, and ego are essential to the action at hand. And that is another perhaps unintentional byproduct of the MoMA show—Abramović lingers in the mind’s eye as a narcissist, afraid of disappearing from view for a single minute. To that end, during the show’s run, she will sit at a table in the giant atrium, silently inviting visitors to sit with her. Never out of sight, never out of mind.

Image: Marina Abramović. Holding Milk (The Kitchen Series). 2009. Still from video (color, sound). 12:43 min. © 2010 Marina Abramović. Courtesy the artist and Sean Kelly Gallery/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York 

The choice of music for each dance helped with the comparison—for Beach Birds (1991), John Cage’s delicate score, played live, of plinking piano notes and rain sticks; for Duo, Thom Willems’ offstage live piano, similarly spartan, and augmented by an additional gentle soundscape. (more…)

“Melissa represents a fresh voice that offers new insights into the arts and culture of New York City,” says Neal Shapiro, President and CEO of WNET.ORG. “Her decades of experience in her field make her an amazing addition to our already-stellar team of art historians and commentators.”

Chiu is a renowned expert who lectures on contemporary arts and culture at festivals, symposia, and conferences around the world. She is Director of the Museum and Vice President of Global Art Programs at Asia Society in New York, where she has worked for nearly a decade. Prior to this, she was Founding Director of the Asia-Australia Arts Center in Sydney, Australia. Chiu holds a PhD in art history and has organized more than 30 exhibitions of international art. Her books include Breakout: Chinese Art Outside China, 2007, focusing on the international Chinese artistic Diaspora, Chinese Contemporary Art: 7 Things You Should Know, 2008, and a forthcoming survey of Asian contemporary art published by Thames and Hudson and Monacelli Press.

“I am delighted to be joining the SundayArts team and look forward to sharing my perspectives on the arts through interviews with pioneers in the fields of art, architecture, film, music, and dance,” says Chiu. “Each has a story to tell that we can learn from and be stirred by—in looking at their inspirations, aspirations, failures, and triumphs—in short, what has made them who they are today.”

The installation’s flow and layout work well with the material at hand. Videos are screened on full walls in cube-shaped rooms with wide doors, integrating them into the larger installation, rather than ghetto-izing them, as often happens with curtained video projection spaces. (more…)

The first is Theatre For A New Audience, which last year presented two highly regarded Shakespeare productions (Hamlet and Othello), who is currently mounting Measure For Measure directed by Arin Arbus (who helmed the aforementioned TFANA Othello).

Measure For Measure is not as satisfying a drama as either of those great tragedies; indeed it is usually classified as a “problem play.” Arbus’ problematic production has moments of comedy—best delivered by Jefferson Mays. Mays excels as Vincentio, the oddly aloof Duke of Vienna. He is charming, fey, quirky, and always engaging on stage, providing a bizarre, if ultimately benevolent royal. (more…)

Personal performances aside, the 2010 Biennial (through May 30) feels like a good cross-section of what’s being seen in galleries today, without the more sensational big-name artists sucking the air from the place. (more…)

The dance segments shifted in vocabulary enough to defy categorization. (more…)