I'm So Glad that I Didn't Leave at Intermission - Friday, 1 November

Those of you who know me well know that I'm not shy about skipping the second half of pretty much any performance if I don't like it or if the piece isn't engaging me or if I've just "had enough" - I feel as if I would get more value from my ticket money by leaving at intermission than by sticking it out.

Well, despite two rather weird pieces comprising the first half of tonight's production by the Paris Opera Ballet, I stayed. And I'm sure glad that I did.

The first piece was called "Darkness is Hiding Black Horses" by Japanese choreographer Saburo Teshigawara. It felt downright apocalyptic, with spurts of smoke rising from holes in the floor, dancers in ragged costumes, electronic music interspersed with sounds of beating hoofs, strange video projections, very isolated and sharp/jerky dance movements, long almost-motionless stances, and multiple dancers on stage all in their own "zone" and not interacting for most of the piece.  It was interesting for the first 5 minutes, but it went on for 20 more minutes.  Zzzzz.

Second, Trisha Brown's "Glacial Decoy" with no music. I didn't "get" this piece at all and the lack of music gave me pretty much nothing to focus on. Four women in white pleated long almost nightgown-like dresses, dancing mostly independently with movements that to my eye were highly repetitive and didn't communicate much. Short almost peek-a-boo entrances and exits from the wings. Video projections that didn't seem to relate to anything. Like I said, I just didn't "get" this piece.

Then finally, after intermission, a piece called "Doux Mensonges" (sweet lies) by Czech choreographer Jiří Kylián. The music was a cappella Gregorian chant and madrigals by Gesualdo and Monteverdi, beautifully performed by the eight singers of Les Arts Florissants on stage and in the pit.  Movement and music, dancers and singers, entered and exited on red-light-lit square platforms ascending and descending the stage. It was especially interesting to hear the music arise from below the stage and return to it - like things hidden and revealed and hidden again.  For one piece five singers stand on their platform in their little huddle (the platform is lifted only about half-way up so you see just their torsos) and they take one small step clockwise every measure or so, rotating as a group and thus changing the sound. Magical! Two pairs of dancers create absolutely stunning fluid images, suggesting (to me) risk and trust and danger and beauty and agony and peace and mystery. An abstract fabric "cloud" hung above the stage. Costumes were simple burgundy leotards with grey tops and tights. Again there were video projections - filmclips that appeared to have been made in the Opera Garnier and under the stage - I didn't think they added all that much, but they weren't obtrusive. I absolutely loved this piece, and it ended way too soon! Here is a video report showing a couple snippets from a rehearsal:  http://www.ina.fr/video/PA00001250416

And here's the partially-obstructed view from my seat in the front-most box on the side of the Orchestra section of the hall.  Not bad, hey?!?

One more tidbit of the "good news" variety: I found the handicapped entrance (climbing those front steps can be a bit daunting)! It was on the side of the building, as I thought, but it's on the west side (not the east, where I thought it might be, next to the restaurant). So the bad news is that I had to walk all the way around the building to find it. In the rain. But once inside an usher took me to a special small private elevator (he had to use a key to run it) that was unbelievably beautiful - I'm guessing that it's used for heads of state and other very special guests. I wish that I had had the nerve to take a picture inside it! But you'll just have to trust me on this.