December 25-31, 2003

art

This Magic Moment

Remembering the year in arts.

January

Traditional dance on the concert stage can be earnest, corny, even boring. But in last year's DanceBoom, NATYA, a local troupe performing classical dance of India, invited the audience into its world of exquisite gestures and stylized movement by beginning each dance briefly telling us its story. This meant we knew when Shiva was poisoned and why his neck is blue, among other delicious tidbits. Later at Painted Bride's "From the Horse's Mouth," NATYA's Shoba Sharma shared her personal journey as a performer in this tradition. Another window opened into a specialized form -- and I can't wait to open more.--Janet Anderson

February

My truly biggest art moment of the year was Matt Neenan's Le Travail, a new ballet honoring the "Degas and the Dance" exhibit mounted at Philadelphia Museum of Art. In grad school, I wrote about the Degas dancers from a dance history perspective. The art historians weren't very interested; they loved the painter and dismissed his subject -- all they saw was brilliant painting technique and impoverished working women. Neenan's ballet honored the painter, and -- leave it to a dancer -- brought vividly to life Degas' obsession with the art of ballet, and with dancers as proud performers thrilled to be doing "The Work."--J.A.

My memory of a small show, "David Stephens: 144 Crosses for the 144,000," installed in the hushed and dark vault space at Gallery Joe earlier this year has haunted me. The work in the show was formally very cohesive and refined, and the depth of Stephens' single-minded sense of purpose was really inspiring. The eight constructed wood sculptures on view were informed by the complicated history of the Roman cross motif as a symbol of death and hope -- yet were deeply resonant with the artist's personal history. I spent a timeless moment with these evocative sculptures.--Susan Hagen

March

This isn't a moment, but a date: 03/03/03, when as a protest against the war in Iraq, there were 1,004 productions of Aristophanes' ancient bawdy comedy, Lysistrata, in 59 countries, including what must have been an astonishing performance in a Kurd refugee camp in Patra, Greece, where it was performed in the original ancient Greek, and in Cagayan de Oro City in Mindanao, on the southern island of the Philippines, a battleground of communist insurgents, bandits, Muslim separatists and government troops. In theaters, warehouses, apartments, wherever they could, in Israel and Pakistan, outdoors in frozen Washington, D.C., and two very starry productions in New York and Los Angeles, the show went on. Of the several Philly productions, the one I saw took place in an old unheated furniture showroom, with immense goodwill and generosity of spirit.--Toby Zinman

May

More than any other exhibit this year, "The Palace at 4 a.m.," Mark Shetabi's installation at Locks Gallery, felt like entering another realm entirely. The first floor of the gallery became a disconcerting maze of locked doors, peepholes and dead ends. Low ceilings and fluorescent lighting, clinical white paint and buzzing white noise created a menacing tension that was alleviated only by peering through the peepholes. There, viewers saw Shetabi's tiny, sterile worlds, filled with miniature cars, buildings, sand and Plexiglas. Spare and distorted from the lens, the little "environments" kept viewers going back for yet another peek -- especially into Wet Interior. In a scene at once soothing and startling, the viewer sees and hears a sink overflowing with water onto the floor.--Lori Hill

If theater is about creating illusions of reality, it is always thrilling when a show reminds us of the power of the illusion while creating it. There was a moment in Pig Iron's Gentlemen Volunteers, a show about soldiers and nurses during WWI, performed almost entirely without realistic sets or props, when an actor draws a window in the air with one finger, and another actor reaches out, quite naturally, and opens that illusory window. A few moments later, a finger draws eyeglasses on an actor's face, and then that actor adjusts those imaginary glasses up on his nose. It was a pleasure to be in the presence of such talented, disciplined, imaginative performers.--T.Z.

There's nothing like a local hero! Philadelphia audiences have more or less watched former University of the Arts student Ben Dibble grow up, since he was giving fine performances in local theaters even before he graduated. But nothing prepared us for 1812's Bat Boy, wherein he took over the title role with breathtaking virtuosity. Singer, dancer, comic actor, gymnast, lovably goofy hunk: Dibble has it all … and a star was born in our own backyard.--David Anthony Fox

June

OK, so it's not exactly a "moment." But it was thrilling! Really, just about everything went right in the Arden's marvelous Pacific Overtures. But for me, the ultimate spine tingles were provided by Marla Jurglanis' oooh-and-ahhh-inducing costumes, in which Kabuki tradition married Calvin Klein elegance with sumptuous results. Jurglanis is another local artist (resident costume designer at People's Light) who has been doing great work for years -- but Overtures was really her crowning achievement. And if there's ever an Arden Theatre tag sale, I'm ready to add every luxurious kimono, yukata and haori to my personal wardrobe.

--D.A.F.

I saw Daniel Jackson's show of graceful modernist furniture, "Dovetailing History," at the Rosenwald-Wolf Gallery late on the day it closed. A huge Rocking Peacock was already partly encased in bubble wrap. Wall-mounted headboards flowed into shelves acting as bedside tables. Jackson (1938-1995) so often melded practical cleverness with svelte, sensuous beauty. "Wow!" I thought. "Why didn't someone tell me how great this is?" Another visitor emerged from an inner room. "Wow," he said. "Isn't this great?" We took turns pointing out favorite items to one another. Art should be shared, especially with strangers.--Robin Rice

July

I saw a lot of shows in 2003 (though never as many as I'd like!) and a few, such as the "Warren Rohrer: Paintings 1972-93" show at the PMA, have really stuck with me. Rohrer's beautiful abstract paintings were surprisingly sophisticated, but I really loved the affection for rural landscape with which he invested them, drawing from his humble roots as a Mennonite farm boy. I spent several hours soaking up the earthy flavors of Rohrer's paintings and also really enjoyed my conversations with museum guards about their perceptions of the work.--S.H.

September

With contradictory grace, Rachel Bliss incorporates the flaws and inevitable awkwardnesses that transform the impossible perfection of harmony into a world of real, believable "Ugly Beauty," the title of her show at Snyderman Gallery. And, as there are flaws in all real things, there is beauty in flawed things, a truth Bliss enacts in her gritty, reiterative drawing and painting techniques. Haunting eyes draw us into her world.--R.R.

It was a performance with all the elements of real-life drama. Then too, it was a real-life moment when dancer Megan Bridge tied the knot with composer/video artist Peter Price at the Painted Bride. Family, friends and curious onlookers were on hand to witness the blessed event, which offered some twists to the usual nuptial proceedings, such as a series of short rituals. Of course the creative couple wrote their own vows and there was no minister, rabbi or any other master of ceremonies; instead these two took the DIY credo to the limit when Price utilized the powers bestowed by his mail-order Universalist ordination to make the whole deal legal.--Deni Kasrel

October

Joyce DiDonato's recital at AVA on Oct. 17 marked the Kansan mezzo's triumphant homecoming as an international star to a school she loves and where, by her own admission, she had to work hard for attention. The skyrocketing singer now dazzles opera and concert stages from San Francisco to Milan with her silken voice, stunning roulades and interpretive commitment. As a final encore, DiDonato offered the Barber of Seville aria she had auditioned with a dozen years ago, dedicating it to AVA's promising current students in solidarity. Like her whole program, it was terrifically sung.--David Shengold