"[Every Time I Think of You's] first encounter sets in motion all the elements of a
first-rate love story – the clash of economic and cultural hierarchies; the
tension of family dynamics; the dizzying swirl of falling in love." – Bud Gundy, author of Elf Gift and Butterfly Dream.
Sometimes, a colleague offers a review, and it both champions its strengths while critiquing in an informed way.
A new friend and I were discussing the Bjork concert at Craneway Pavilion on BART. smarter folks had booked a ferry; a friend had bought scalped tickets for twice as much. Yet the train offered a new conversation, and a sense of relief when the fellow artist, a talented performer, said bluntly, that he liked that what it sounded like, but her huddled stance, away from the audience for most of the show, was offputting.
While my friend opted for the bleachers, I had stupidly stood behind the superfluous pendulums, my view even more obscured, thinking she might stand in front of it at some point, or at least face the other half of the audience.
But the real point my other performer friend made was the iPads he noticed. I thought them just a cheesy stage device, but he saw lyrics on them.
"For seventy-five dollars, plus an hour and a half train ride, I expect them to know their lines."
My post on arts and entertainment with a disability focus includes a dance film, naughty comics, art exhibits and the alleged "happiest place on earth."
Ballroomies
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| Musical Chairs |
Ballroom dancing, injury and trans fabulousness fill the new movie Musical Chairs with heart, spirit and a sense of love. Susan Siedelman (director of Desperately Seeking Susan, Madonna's breakout film) brings together a diverse cast for an upbeat, sweet-natured story of a dancer whose post-injury recovery includes being coaxed into wheelchair ballroom dancing by a social dancing instructor. A group of other paraplegics join in, building up to some nice dancing and light comedy.
May 4.
It's a day I avoid thinking about, a day somewhere in between the May Day protests that usually end up at nearby Civic Center Plaza, with resultant noisy media helicopters overhead, and Cinco de Mayo, with its accordant bar party invites.
But as someone who grew up in Ohio, and attended Kent State University, May 4 is a haunting morbid anniversary, historic proof of just how awful America can be.
These days, you can Google "campus shooting" and see dozens of horrifying events documents in thousands of news stories. Deranged students have been the culprits, usually.
But back in 1970, at the peak of U.S. anti-war protests, after several days of increasingly crowded student rallies, Ohio Governor Rhodes called out the National Guard, and after a tense stand-off, 60 shots were fired, four students were dead and nine others injured.
