When we love something, and are passionate about it, we want to help others to love it as we do and when we succeed in doing that, we have transcended a barrier that locks us and others within ourselves. In Pina, the Oscar-nominated documentary about the modern dance artist Pina Bausch, is her interpretation of Igor Stravinsky's 1913 ballet The Rite of Spring that helped me to love it as she does (and I seriously never liked it, but until I saw the film, I just didn't have someone who could make it accessible to me, but she did).
Knowing the sequence is called Trust gives it an entirely different flavor; or does it? That's for you to decide. But, if we are going to "dance," as Pina exhorts us to do, there is more than one way to dance, but there is only one source from which every form of dance comes: within. It's impossible to make the inner journeys necessary without someone else, without the love and steadfastness of those who can prevent us from getting lost within. It's also true, however, that we can't join ourselves with another until we have found ourselves first.
There is only one person in the Trust performance above: the man in black--black symbolizes death--is the part of the self that must die in order for the dignity of the new self to come into full being (the woman in the gold dress symbolizes self-worth, dignity, what we have when we attain wisdom at various stages). The woman in the gold dress is like the baby taking the first steps, while the inner-part about to die, about to resign complete control of the full being (the man in black), helps the new-found dignity to gain strength and presence so as to rule the self completely. (As always, this is just my interpretation, but I hope it will help you in finding your own).
That is art.
Isn't this how a relationship works? The ups and the downs, the highs and the lows, the slow pacing and the sudden rush. The sudden exit. The love song in the background, in the background of our hearts and minds that thinks, "This is how it goes, this is how a relationship works and this song tells me how I can know if it's real," yes and no, because the song (or film or whatever art form you like) does share experience, but no in that each of us will experience intimacy differently, and for some, the real romance is being alone, with your inmost self.
Actually, it's probably not the most abstract of all of them, maybe that goes to the Cafe Muller (full clip below). But this is the thing about dance: if it's not abstract, it's only motions; if it's abstract, then it's motions and philosophy; and what is it that defines "abstract?" In the beginning of the film, a woman comes out and talks about the seasons, giving little hand gestures for the dominant, natural occurrence at the proper time of the year (such as freezing for winter). With this most simple of dances, Pina instructs us on what the language of dance is, why it is a language and how we can learn to listen to ourselves when we watch others. It's not simple, but nothing in life is.
Pictured just above is what might be the strangest of the dances: veal ballet shoes. The dancer takes two veal patties and puts one in each of her ballet shoes, then dances in this industrial setting; during the whole performance, she is on her toes as pictured (I know there is a technical term for it but I don't know the term). The veal could be said to be the dancer's own body that she/he turns into chopped meat in a sacrifice to dance and the industrial setting is the way the dancer has turned the body into a product, a manufactured product even, because of the torment they put themselves through; how do we, the question arises, put veal in our ballet shoes?
Rotten Tomatoes (94% of critics liked it and 81% of viewers liked it).
In conclusion, the Academy felt Pina was worthy of an Oscar by the standards of film making and I find the dances preserved and explored therein to be of the highest standard of art. Art should never ever be snobbish and we should not let others dominate our tastes and what we ourselves like, so if this doesn't look interesting to you, don't hesitate to not watch it, don't guilt yourself into doing something you don't want to do because art is always for us, the audience, the viewer, the consumer (the person who will ingest it and digest it and make it a part of themselves) and if we are not going to consume art, we should find the art we do want to consume. If you do decide to watch it, I hope you will enjoy it and that the world of dance will be opened to you as it has been for me! (While Pina contains only selections of Cafe Muller, the entire clip is here and Pina herself does dance in this clip).
Knowing the sequence is called Trust gives it an entirely different flavor; or does it? That's for you to decide. But, if we are going to "dance," as Pina exhorts us to do, there is more than one way to dance, but there is only one source from which every form of dance comes: within. It's impossible to make the inner journeys necessary without someone else, without the love and steadfastness of those who can prevent us from getting lost within. It's also true, however, that we can't join ourselves with another until we have found ourselves first.
There is only one person in the Trust performance above: the man in black--black symbolizes death--is the part of the self that must die in order for the dignity of the new self to come into full being (the woman in the gold dress symbolizes self-worth, dignity, what we have when we attain wisdom at various stages). The woman in the gold dress is like the baby taking the first steps, while the inner-part about to die, about to resign complete control of the full being (the man in black), helps the new-found dignity to gain strength and presence so as to rule the self completely. (As always, this is just my interpretation, but I hope it will help you in finding your own).
That is art.
Isn't this how a relationship works? The ups and the downs, the highs and the lows, the slow pacing and the sudden rush. The sudden exit. The love song in the background, in the background of our hearts and minds that thinks, "This is how it goes, this is how a relationship works and this song tells me how I can know if it's real," yes and no, because the song (or film or whatever art form you like) does share experience, but no in that each of us will experience intimacy differently, and for some, the real romance is being alone, with your inmost self.
Actually, it's probably not the most abstract of all of them, maybe that goes to the Cafe Muller (full clip below). But this is the thing about dance: if it's not abstract, it's only motions; if it's abstract, then it's motions and philosophy; and what is it that defines "abstract?" In the beginning of the film, a woman comes out and talks about the seasons, giving little hand gestures for the dominant, natural occurrence at the proper time of the year (such as freezing for winter). With this most simple of dances, Pina instructs us on what the language of dance is, why it is a language and how we can learn to listen to ourselves when we watch others. It's not simple, but nothing in life is.
Pictured just above is what might be the strangest of the dances: veal ballet shoes. The dancer takes two veal patties and puts one in each of her ballet shoes, then dances in this industrial setting; during the whole performance, she is on her toes as pictured (I know there is a technical term for it but I don't know the term). The veal could be said to be the dancer's own body that she/he turns into chopped meat in a sacrifice to dance and the industrial setting is the way the dancer has turned the body into a product, a manufactured product even, because of the torment they put themselves through; how do we, the question arises, put veal in our ballet shoes?
Rotten Tomatoes (94% of critics liked it and 81% of viewers liked it).
Pina Bausch. |
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