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Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts

Monday, June 21, 2021

My body wants something different for me now.

 

 

My body wants something different for me now.

In August, I will turn 69.

A handful of people have already heard from me that I am retiring from reviewing dance and, indeed, from much engagement with writing about dance, serving on artist selection panels, speaking on panels and similar activities. Some folks have responded with shock or just surprise and sadness, especially to see a Black woman, or any rare person of color, leaving the field of dance criticism and journalism. Others have kindly expressed relief for me and even excitement that, after more than 45 years pursuing this work--I first took dance criticism courses at The New School and Dance Theater Workshop in 1974--I finally feel free to say I’ve done my do, given what I can, and now I’m reclaiming my time.

Like so many others, I have the pandemic of 2020-21 to thank for a radically-altered life.

But, actually, retiring from this work has been on my mind since before I suddenly got hired as Gibney’s curator in July 2018, a life transition that plunged me even deeper into a whole mess of unanticipated things.

However, these drawn-out months away from you all and the live performances I dearly loved have rewired me. On the physical level, I now find myself incapable of staying awake very far into the evening, making even the thought of turning up alert and receptive for night-time shows completely impossible. Seriously, my body rules it out, and I’m not going to fight that body wisdom. I cherish the extra sleep.

And on the mental level, well, my mind seems to be making its selections crystal clear. If something does not spark and hold its interest, engagement is short-lived (or never-lived). That means I might prioritize certain things and let others slide, not always rushing to be there for everything and everyone. No apologies. This is real.

But there’s unexpected fun, too, at this moment. Suddenly and brilliantly, BodyMind has skipped in the direction of healthier (and more colorful and flavorful) eating. Things I somehow just know to throw together work out well and have good health value for me. Intuition kicking in again and right on time. Again, something I’m not going to question--just make more time for and enjoy.

Listening has always been a central part of my spiritual and professional practice (and of my superpowers as an introvert). That continues. Listening to what I need is central to what’s centered. Even the things and spaces I’ve chosen to create for others during this time of uncertainty, anxiety, loss and grief--initiatives such as my Black Diaspora group for rising Black dance and performance artists and the Imagining journal at Gibney; the Black Curators in Dance and Performance group; and my monthly Zoom “séances”--are things and spaces I also happen to need for my own mental and spiritual well-being. As they serve and fulfill their purpose for others, they nourish me. These will continue and flourish. Over the next few years, I will also be shifting the areas of my focus at Gibney to better reflect the community relationships, broader concerns, and activities that matter most to me now.

I have spent decades tending an art discipline that does not get what it needs from this society. Far from it. It needs a ton of care, and working around that can be all-consuming. As I enter my elder years, I choose a wider world and a chance to reclaim some of the things I’ve had to push aside.

I thank everyone for receiving me into the world of dance and for always being, whether you knew it or not, my teachers. You have offered me a way to give back, as a writer, for all the wonder and beauty you sacrifice so much to create. With all the fierce questioning and work being done now towards true justice in the arts, I hope dance artists will also fiercely commit to making dance writing a necessary bridge to the outside world, a tool of witness, clarity of expression, openhearted sharing, much-needed documentation, and acknowledgment. Yes, a force for justice.


Eva Yaa Asantewaa
June 21, 2021

[Note: InfiniteBody will stay up, serving as a space for me to just keep saying whatever I need to say! :-D]


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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve, at Gibney, as Senior Director of Curation and Editorial Director. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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Tuesday, March 17, 2020

It's also okay to take time to grieve.

Eva Yaa Asantewaa


It's also okay to take time to grieve.

by Eva Yaa Asantewaa, InfiniteBody


Hey, friend! How are you doing? How are you faring in this new reality?

Me? It's different from moment to moment, day to day. And that's the way I've learned to take it. Because that's the only way it's going to work. The information and guidelines and rules we're getting evolve as this coronavirus pandemic sweeps across the world, our state and our city, and we inch along towards an unknown future. We're all trying to do our best.

Well, some of us, actually, are doing our usual. Which is not helpful. It's a time for responsibility. And I'm livin' in the USA where gun sales are rising and young people have to be forced to stay away from bars.

Anyway, my fellow Americans, my fellow New Yorkers, my fellow arts folks, here's where we find ourselves.

Lord love us, the virus struck, our daily habits and plans and expectations got shut down but--damnit!--we got busy. Right away!

We've now put a flood of videos and livestreams out with everything from opera performances to yoga and meditation and cooking classes to art museum tours. Oh, thank goodness we've got the Internet and social media and the same electronic devices we'd just spent months and months complaining about and trying to spend more time away from so we could have authentic experiences with our loved ones IRL.

Now, we're finally making good on those old resolutions to study French or learn to knit or...I don't know...maybe master brain surgery on YouTube. And there's just so much out there to dig into while we wait for the world to turn right-side up again (or what we thought was right-side up...that's debatable).

There's more and more and more online content every day for the stuck-at-home. I've got friends and colleagues busy making some of it. And even this blog post! Because we're resilient, we're creative, we want to keep active before we lose our natural minds. It's really fantastic, isn't it?

It's also exhausting.

All the time in the world now to catch up with the tons of unread books I have here, the millions of unread articles I have saved in the Pocket app, the podcasts people keep telling me I have to hear, my Netflix list, my bag of knitting supplies, my personal writing, the two free Coursera courses I've just signed up for and--Godx, help me--my lifelong practice of introversion. And yet....

I can't. Anyone else feel me on this? I just can't.

I wish I could put this enforced isolation time to good use. But....

It even took me a while to realize I could write a post like this to share with you how I'm feeling.

Because we're supposed to spring into action as if nothing, absolutely nothing could ever slow us down.

We're Americans, damn it!

We're New Yorkers, damn it!

We got through 9/11 together, and we'll power through this trauma.

And I actually think, as much as artists and folks who work with artists--particularly dance artists--are marginalized in this society, most of us have a keen sense of responsibility to community and world, a sense of generosity and mission, that moves us to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, start all over again. Right away!

I'm here to admit I'm both feeling it (that natural urge) and not feeling it.

I'm leaning in...and swerving away.

And, yeah, all of the labor I normally do (and dearly love) is dependent upon either:

1) getting wonderful artists into spaces where they will perform live in front of, I hope, densely-packed audiences (curation)

2) attending and reporting on live performances amid often densely-packed audiences (dance writing).

So, right. I've got lots of new time on my hands. But my proudest achievements, lately, involved strategic grocery shopping and the complete reorganization (and subsequent re-stuffing) of my pantry.

My newly-unfolding Spring season at Gibney is in tatters; my calendar for other New York City happenings is suddenly wiped cleaner than a subway pole first thing on a March morning. And I miss every one of you I used to encounter all the time on my sidewalk, in the lobbies and aisles of performance venues, in the corridors and studios of my workplace.

I miss you. I'm grieving. It's okay to take time to grieve a little. It's okay to take a look around and realize you don't know what to do next. You just don't know what to do. You feel overwhelmed and helpless in the face of unimaginable uncertainty. And you're no expert on any of this.

Take even just a minute. You can spare a minute.

2020. Remember when we thought this was a fresh new year with a cute name? Little did we know it was coming for us. Threatening our health, our businesses, our incomes, our socializing, our freedom to greet one another with a warm hug in the time-honored manner.

Last night, when I couldn't even relax with a Met Opera video (free!) because, I guess, the system wasn't strong enough for all the new demand on it, I threw in the towel. I went to bed, read a little, went to sleep. Sleep is also free and, occasionally, you feel refreshed when you wake up from it.

Lately, waking up from it has also been a proud achievement.

Productivity is as American (and as capitalist) as apple pie. And this Virgo, of course, would love to feel useful and productive. This blog post is actually a tilt in that direction. Look, I'm communicating with you again! But what I'm communicating is about making space for my feelings--and yours. I hope you can feel it's okay to do the same.

Take good care of yourself and all who are precious to you and a comfort to you in this difficult moment. I send much love and wishes for your safety and well-being!

Eva

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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve as Senior Curatorial Director of Gibney. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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Saturday, March 30, 2019

Davalois Fearon: dancing for C.J. and so many others

Davalois Fearon wearing a costume from For C.J.

Davalois Fearon Dance
For C.J.
BAAD!
March 29-30

When dance artist Davalois Fearon lost her nephew to asthma, she turned mourning into action. Her work, For C.J., represents a cry against the dire health outcomes for communities--predominantly, Black and Latinx people--doubly-impacted by urban pollution and inadequate health care. Fearon, a Jamaican immigrant who grew up in the Bronx, created The For C.J. Initiative to raise awareness and spur city policymakers to address these life-threatening conditions. But she also created a dance to honor her nephew, set to music played live at BAAD! by her husband, composer Mike McGinnis (wood winds), Elias Bailey (tuba) and Jeff Hermanson (trumpet). For C.J.'s resolute symbolism even carries over into instrumentation which requires expert and sustained use of breath.

Without careful reading of Fearon's program notes, it might be tricky to figure out at first look, but her performers represent not only an asthma victim (Mikaila Ware) but also the engulfing forces of her doom (Morgan Anderson, as the medical system, and Njeri Rutherford as the environment). The minute you grasp it, though, the symbolism feels heavy and obvious. All three are dressed in extraordinary wearable art--like hair-coverings made of whole and broken plastic hair rollers--and glittery makeup, blurring distinctions between high and low, pretty and poisonous. The set, unusual costuming give the work the heightened aura of tribal ritual.

The audience gets drawn in, too. Before the piece begins, we're invited to inscribe the names of deceased loved ones on cut-out leaves and tie the stems to ropes that play a significant part in this dance. Those leaves, then, will accumulate and remain for all future performances of the piece.

Like the visual display--including Ware's grotesque, bulbous headdress constructed of something mysterious and, frankly, nauseating--choreography alternates oddity with poignancy. We end with the vision of Ware's body folded forward in yoga's child's pose, covered in a glittery, earth-dark wrapping that now kills her.

To lift the energy, then, the choreographer and her dancers return to celebrate the life and spirit C.J. with the exuberance I remember of forceful, high-flying Fearon dancing for choreographer Stephen Petronio.

Concept, choreography and artistic direction: Davalois Fearon
Collaborating dancers: Morgan Anderson, Njeri Rutherford and Mikaila Ware
Costumes, wearable sculptures and makeup: Jasmine Murrell
Set Design: Myssi Robinson

For C.J. concludes this evening with an 8pm performance. For information, click here and scroll down.

BAAD!
2474 Westchester Avenue, The Bronx
(map/directions)

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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve as Senior Curatorial Director of Gibney. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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Saturday, September 15, 2018

Meet Gabri Christa's "Magdalena" at Theaterlab

Gabri Christa in her new multimedia solo, Magdalena
(photo: Kevin Yatarola)

Having spent the early afternoon at 92Y Harkness visiting Pino-Latino's intersection of Asian and Latinx cultures, I headed to Midtown West for Gabri Christa's multimedia solo, Magdalena. I found the Curaçao-born dance artist/filmmaker greeting people arriving at Orietta Crispino's tiny studio at Theaterlab, carefully guarding a square of white performance space surrounded on three sides by a string of light bulbs from heedless, bull-in-china-shop audience members.

Towards the rear of the demarcated space, a baby doll of fragile, chocolate-brown porcelain sat atop an ancient valise. At the start of her hour-long performance, Christa, a woman of mixed races and cultures, began her storytelling by pointing to the Black doll and relaying its history. (How did this toy, so rare in the Europe of her Dutch mother Magdalena's youth, come into her family? From an auntie who'd gotten it as a present from her Black, and married, lover.) As in the best stories, that single point and gaze would steadily open up many vibrant channels of memory, history, questions, feelings. We would be introduced to a family, to a war, to Catholic schooling, to interracial love, to the Black Caribbean, to adventurous vitality and, finally, to aging and dementia. For this is a story moving towards her mother's state of forgetting, and it is an act of loving discovery, recall and reclamation.

A gifted storyteller, Christa employs many supportive tools--among them, a treasure trove of archival visual imagery, some of it from personal family materials. But none of that would matter if the interconnected tales themselves--as in Bennyroyce Royon's new piece for Ballet Hispánico--did not rest on a foundation of humanity.

Conception, writing and performance: Gabri Christa
Direction: Erwin Maas
Design and Dramaturgy: Guy de Lancey
Radio play performed by Wayne Miller and the Spotlight Theater
Music: Izaline Callister and Vernon Reid

Magdalena continues through Saturday, September 22, but hurry. Seating is extremely limited. For information and tickets, click here.

Theaterlab
Third Floor
357 West 36th Street (west of 8th Avenue)
(map/directions)

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Friday, January 9, 2015

Artists, learn how to navigate Obamacare



EVERY ARTIST INSURED: 
NAVIGATING HEALTH CARE REFORM

Free Actors Fund Workshop

CO-SPONSORED BY 
HOWL ARTS, LA MAMA AND COMMUNITY BOARD 3 

Tuesday, January 13, 6:30-8:30pm
Saturday, January 17, 3-5pm

HOWL HAPPENING GALLERY
6 East First Street, Manhattan
(between Bowery and 2nd Avenue)

This free workshop will help you understand the Affordable Care Act and provide you with clear guidance on what your options are.  It’s an excellent opportunity for unbiased counseling on an important topic, and includes a Q&A session. RENATA MARINARO, Exchange Navigator and Eastern Region Health Services Director of THE ACTORS FUND, will answer questions like:

What do the "Obamacare" plans cover?
What are the penalties if I don't have insurance?
My income is low – can I get a break on insurance premiums? (Yes!)
Who is eligible for free insurance?  How do I apply?
I don't like the plan I was on – how do I pick a new one?
I'm uninsured; where can I go for discounted care?

For further information, questions and more workshop times (including the Affordable Housing series) and locations please visit actorsfund.org.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Dance artist Michelle Boulé offers free presentation on BodyTalk, Saturday

Michelle Boulé
Dancer-choreographer Michelle Boulé will give a free introduction to the BodyTalk system, offer a demo session and explain how BodyTalk is customized to each individual.  

Saturday, November 16 (11am-1pm)


36 West 44th Street, Suite 1212 (between 5th and 6th Avenues), Manhattan

Monday, February 25, 2013

Wicca as somatic healing with dance artist iele paloumpis

presents


with 

Witchcraft – A Corporeal Practice

March 16 (1:30-3:30pm)

Third Floor Studios 
In Shared Practice workshops, Live Arts season artists share the physical and creative practices behind their work. Each process-focused session provides participants an opportunity to recharge their own artistry by experiencing different approaches to making and moving with similarly-motivated professionals. All classes are held on Saturdays throughout the season at New York Live Arts.
Witchcraft -- A Corporeal Practice
Over the past several months, changes in my health and body have shifted the ways I approach dance and daily life. Without concrete answers from doctors and various bodyworkers, I’ve been looking to Wiccan ritual as a somatic practice of integration, acceptance and healing. I’ve also been thinking a lot about how all bodies - whether elderly, disabled, or otherwise "different" - can enter into dance. For this Shared Practice, we will look to magical herbs, astrology and the lunar calendar, as well as our own unique and defiant bodies, to generate restorative movement. Come with an awareness of something you might like to shed, heal and/or embrace.
--iele paloumpis 
$15/class. Class size is limited. Advance purchase is recommended to guarantee a spot. Click here.

New York Live Arts
219 West 19th Street (between 7th and 8th Avenues), Manhattan
(map/directions)

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Being necessarily here...with Marjani Forté


Dancer-choreographer Marjani Forté (left) and members of her company LOVE|FORTÉ A COLLECTIVE
(photos: left, Ian Douglas; top, Wah Ming Chang, Open City Magazine)

This up-and-coming troupe will present a world premiere in March at Danspace Project.


In recent months, the American media and people, responding to a series of well-publicized tragedies, have opened up a new--although not always entirely helpful--conversation around trauma, mental illness, and public safety. For dance artist Marjani Forté, who has been considering these issues for some time, these discussions don't always lead us back to a significant source of mental distress and imbalance--the daily collision with injustice faced by millions of people marginalized by the mainstream culture. 

"We need to have a deeper conversation around who we are as a country in regards to our history around race and our systems that have been constructed around that history," the choreographer says.

During curator Ishmael Houston-Jones's historic Parallels platform at Danspace Project (February-March 2012), Forté showed a work-in-progress called Here... which she describes as an "observation of mental health in the face of systematic oppression," the impact of racism and economic inequity. Feedback on that 20-minute preview, she says, provided insight into the value of making space for "the full picture of resilience, survival, and healing." The resulting evening-length work--retitled being Here...--opens at Danspace Project on March 21 for a two-night run.

Marjani Forté (photo by Ian Douglas)
Last winter a friend and I encountered a young woman on the Q train in New York City. She was young, slender, beautifully dark skin and curly hair, bright colors and denim pants. She was ranting. She spoke about a time she should never have known about. At no older than 25, this woman spoke like an 80 year old man, about the American Flag. “..You don’t know about the blood on that flag,” she said, as she described her trauma. She carried on in this way across the Brooklyn Bridge to Midtown Manhattan. Then her voice began to change. She developed an accent, deep, thick, and broken. Finally captivated by her, my friend made eye contact with her and winked. The young woman winked back! I sobbed, my friend and I sobbed together.
I felt time pause, and in that moment, she reflected my own journey, my fight for balance, equality, and health. She inspired me to make this work, a story of connection and healing.
--Marjani Forté 

We rarely expect concert dance to tackle an issue as weighty and complex as the roots and consequences of mental illness in American society. But Forté, best known for her performances with Jawole Willa Jo Zollar's Urban Bush Women, is no stranger to social engagement or art that addresses difficult social concerns. Inspired by her interviews with women from the Yale Program for Recovery and Community Health, Forté aims, in being Here..., to "tell one story."

"The most powerful art pieces that I've seen have caused me to ask and generate my own questions about myself and how I'm implicated from telling one story," she says and notes the Benh Zeitlin film, Beasts of the Southern Wild, written by Zeitlin and playwright Lucy Alibar. 

"That movie tells one story about this one community through the eyes of this one child and her journey into adulthood. In that one story, they address the isolation of this community, the power and assets that this community has  without being defined by mainstream culture or government. They address this community's own set of values. They address how mainstream culture comes in and can completely dismantle this community by placing its values on a community that had been self-defined. They address poverty. And they also address how one person takes all of this in and owns her own self-worth and power inside of it.

"So, the way that I'm avoiding getting too complicated in my own thoughts around these issues is, I'm focused on telling one human story, hoping to affirm recovery and regeneration.

"I want people to step into one mind and the facets of that mind."

See being Here... at Danspace Project, Thursday-Friday, March 21-22 at 8pm. For complete details and ticketing, click here.

St. Mark's Church in-the-Bowery
East 10th Street at Second Avenue, Manhattan

Thursday, January 17, 2013

"Ruff": Peggy Shaw rocks Dixon Place

Watching Peggy Shaw perform Ruff--her new one-woman show at Dixon Place for PS 122's COIL festival--offers an intimate, affecting lesson in empathy. A legend in queer, progressive theater, the much-beloved Shaw suffered a stroke in 2011. This hour-long show is her comeback--a marvelous one--and a way of sharing what it feels like to know that some memories and resources that made you what you are are now unretrievable.

What remains, as Shaw performs it, races by in a stream of consciousness and digressions that are Shaw's but quickly become the audience's, too. As if I'd had the stroke, I found myself struggling to retain the memory of specific words--explication, quips, tales, often amusing--while sartorial details and props (one of which, a brown-and-white wingtip men's shoe, I briefly held for Shaw), body language, facial expressions, shadowy video imagery, music and song easily zapped into my brain and hunkered down. In fact, Shirley Ellis's tongue-and-memory-twisting novelty hit from the 1960's, "The Name Game," became last night's earworm, finally dislodging this morning.

Shaw pivots from tender butch to stage-ruling rock star to slightly mystified stroke survivor who needs a trio of monitors to recall her intricate lines. The audience rides these rhythms and moods, grateful that we occasionally get to see those monitors, too--we sometimes need them--and even more grateful that Shaw has let us into her experience of loss.

Here's a 2010 video clip of Shaw talking about women's roles in theater.


One more thing, a special announcement from Dixon Place founder Ellie Covan: Shaw--who won PS 122's 2011 Ethyl Eichelberger Award--can now also boast that DP's theater has been named for her.

Directed by and co-written with Shaw's partner, Lois Weaver, Ruff runs through Saturday evening at Dixon Place. For a schedule of remaining shows and ticketing information, click here.

Dixon Place
161-A Chrystie Street (between Rivington and Delancey Streets), Manhattan
(map/directions)

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Healthcare for New York City's dance community

The William F. Ryan Community Health Network invites the dance community to register for services including primary and preventive care, routine dental, mental health, OB/GYN, and eye/vision services. Click here for its letter to the field.

Founded upon former congressman William F. Ryan's belief that "health care is a right, not a privilege," the William F. Ryan Community Health Network is a family of not-for-profit, federally qualified health centers, which delivers medical care to diverse and underserved communities. The William F. Ryan Community Health Network is: dedicated to its patients, culturally sensitive, community-oriented, and linguistically diverse. Its goal is to ensure that everyone receives the most comprehensive care possible. www.ryancenter.org
Contact:

Maria A. Lugo
Director of Operations
William F. Ryan Community Health Center
110 West 97 Street
N.Y. N.Y. 10025
212-316-8361 (Office)
212-932-8323 (Fax)
maria.lugo@ryancenter.org
The need for healthcare options in dance is demonstrated by recent Dance/NYC research. For instance, the Dance/NYC Junior Committee's Dance Workforce Census: Earnings Among Individuals, 21-35, shows that only 55% of full-time danceworkers, and 3.6% of part-time dance workers receive health insurance benefits.

The Ryan Community Health Network's new initiative is one response to this identified need and grows out of field discussions initiated by Charles Reinhart and including dance artists and managers, Dance/NYC, Dance/NYC Junior Committee's Healthcare Subcommittee, Career Transitions for Dancers, Elsie Management, The Field, Fractured Atlas, Harkness Center for Dance Injuries, Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, New York Live Arts, and Pentacle. For more on dancer health and to learn about Dance/USA's Taskforce on Dancer Health, see Dance/USA's resources.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Filmmaker France tells the history of ACT UP [UPDATE]

How To Survive A Plague
USA 2012; 110 min.
directed by David France
A Sundance Selects release

Peter Staley in action. Photo: William Lucas Walker

That's Peter Staley--former Wall Street bond trader; later, ACT UP's rock-star activist--who not only talked the eloquent talk but walked the kickass walk along with many comrades, putting the media, pharmaceutical companies, medical researchers and politicians on notice that a community terrorized by AIDS was not going to sit quietly, simply hoping for attention and help. It was going to get in people's faces and demand the research and treatments it needed to survive.

David France's exhilarating and moving How to Survive A Plague relates the boisterous history of ACT UP--all the triumphs and missteps--with a personalizing focus on several of its leading activists. These include Staley and Mark Harrington as well as the late Bob Rafsky who died from AIDS complications in 1993. Rafsky will be remembered by most for his confrontation with presidential-hopeful Bill Clinton that led to the famous "I feel your pain" non-answer.

That scene, from a Clinton fundraiser, is highlighted in France's documentary along with many others that retell the progression of HIV/AIDS in New York's gay male community and that community's dramatic, intelligent responses. Although a sprinkling of women and people of color are shown or interviewed, France has concentrated on assembling footage and gathering oral history that reflect ACT UP as an initiative emerging from well-educated gay white men with an inherent sense of empowerment commensurate with their rage and compassion. Along the way, we do get to see and hear from female advocates and activists--media-savvy Ann Northrop, future journalist Garance Franke-Ruta and pharmaceutical chemist Iris Long, PhD, among a few others.

Essential history can easily be lost. In a climate of right-wing backlash, it can get twisted. New generations of social activists working on marriage equality, transgender rights, immigrant rights and many other progressive issues today need to learn about these shoulders upon which they stand. And we all need a blade of truth to disrupt the nasty fog of culture war that has arisen once again in our country.

[Update: Frank Bruni writes about this documentary in the March 17 New York Times--The Living After the Dying.]

See a screening of How to Survive A Plague at the 2012 New Directors/New Films Festival at the following locations:

Saturday, March 24, 9pm
Walter Reade Theater
165 West 65th Street (between Broadway and Amsterdam Avenue), Manhattan
(directions)

Monday, March 26, 6pm
Museum of Modern Art
11 West 53r Street (between 5th And 6th Avenues), Manhattan
(directions)

How to Survive A Plague Web site

How to Survive A Plague Facebook page

Information on New Directors/New Films

Monday, August 22, 2011

Arts make us healthier and happier

from ConsumerReports on Health newsletter (September 2011)
Getting cultural

In one study, men who had visited a museum or attended a concert, film, play, or sporting event in the previous six months reported better health and higher life satisfaction than those who hadn't. For women, participating in active pursuits like dancing had the greatest benefit.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Women I admire

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made

--Robert Browning ("Rabbi Ben Ezra")

So the legendary Diana Nyad, now 61, didn't make it all the way from Havana to Key West, stymied by an injury and her first-ever attack of asthma (Diana Nyad Puts Early End to Cuba-to-Florida Swim--Don Van Natta, Jr., The New York Times, August 9, 2011). She's still an exemplar of courage and human potential, of staying vital and claiming your power as you embark upon what Jane Fonda calls the Third Act. Since I'm heading in that direction--the Third Act not, unfortunately, Key West--I went to 92Y last evening to find out what Fonda, the mega-accomplished 73-year-old glamour-puss-with-moxie, might have to share.

Turns out she had a lot to share in what she called her "virgin speech" about her book, Prime Time: Love, health, sex, fitness, friendship, spirit--making the most of all of your life, just out from Random House. Baby-boomers like Fonda are "pioneers in this new landscape of aging," she said. "There's no roadmap." So, she created one.

Jane Fonda

"When you're inside oldness instead of looking at it from the outside, it's not bad at all," she said from the vantage point of her own aging as well as copious research and interviews with experts and the aged. In one treasured moment, a 104-year-old guy quipped to her, "When I was born, the Dead Sea was only sick!"

While go-go American society tends to think of aging as a process of decline, Fonda prefers the metaphor of an ascending staircase, "where our souls and our minds can be evolving upward." Because this is Jane Fonda, you'll find lots in her book about physical fitness and healthy eating and the joy of sex--"Doing the research was really fun!"--but what impressed me most about her talk and Q&A was the breadth and depth of her insight into human vulnerability and emotional well-being. Her project, now, is happiness and, like me, she's a big sharer. If she's happy, like the old song would have it, she wants you to be happy, too.

Hindsight works to the benefit of people over 50.

"We've survived things," says Fonda, remembering youth as, typically, a time of stress and hypervigilance. "We learn that this too shall pass, and we see commonalities more than differences. There is compassionate detachment."

Aside from being gorgeous, charming and very funny, at 73, Fonda really does seem to have evolved a self, one eager for reality and honesty. No longer the no-there-there "chameleon" her daughter once slyly called her, she took time to deeply examine her relationships--from her famous dad to her famous ex, Ted Turner, still a dear friend--to find out how to no longer be that woman who would dissolve and disappear into someone else's life.

"Intimacy becomes easier when you get older," she said, after a necessary period of reviewing and reinterpreting your life when you can "bring your whole self to the table, not just the part that you think is perfect."

Fonda loves the word generativity, defined by Merriam-Webster thus:
a concern for people besides self and family that usually develops during middle age; especially: a need to nurture and guide younger people and contribute to the next generation—used in the psychology of Erik Erikson
and she talks about how Katherine Hepburn took her under her wing and mentored her during the filming of On Golden Pond. Passing on wisdom and tools--that's what Fonda chooses to do now, as she glories in her Third Act, and it's a role I choose to emulate.

Besides, you gotta love this woman. She teaches that to keep our brains healthy, to capitalize on their natural plasticity, we must keep learning new things. And what does she want to learn now?

"I saw Anything Goes last night. So now I'm going to learn tap dancing!"

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Friday, May 6, 2011

Town hall on dancers' wellness

Dancers' Bodies. Promoting Wellness.
Dance/NYC and the Dance/USA Taskforce on Dancer Health invite you to join us in responding to the Taskforce's recent call to action to achieve the dancer aesthetic in a manner that promotes overall good health and protects the artist and performer. Led by Richard Gibbs, M.D., the town hall provides a forum to discuss case stories from the perspective of the health professional, cultural critic and professional dancer, including New York City Ballet Principal Dancers Jenifer Ringer and Jared Angle. What words work to promote dancer wellness? What positive practices? What can we as a field do for our dancers?
Speakers: Richard Gibbs * Jared Angle * Jen Edwards * Melissa Gerson * Jenifer Ringer (For speaker bios, click here.)

Monday, May 16, 6:30pm to 8:00pm

Abrons Arts Center
Henry Street Settlement
Playhouse Theater
466 Grand Street (corner of Pitt Street), Manhattan
(map) 

RSVP here

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