Claudia La Rocco

Notes to Self

January 2015

I’VE JUST DELETED the three hundred words I’d written to start this month’s column, which covers a fraction of the myriad festivals, showings, showcases, etc. mushrooming up around the annual Association of Performing Arts Presenters conference… READ ON

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Jail Bait

December 2014

ANN LIV YOUNG had been in jail for about two hours when I got to Jack. She didn’t seem especially unhappy about it. She seemed, in fact, and no surprise, like she had the upper hand—for example, she had a chair, more than was provided to … READ ON

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Roundabout Way

December 2014

I’M ON A PLANE from Seattle to San Francisco. A little plane, tilting fiercely the way little planes do high up here in the dark clouds. It’s Monday night, 6:29 to be precise. I have just spent the weekend watching four dances by Tere O’Connor:… READ ON

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Freddie Mercury

October 2014

I’M NOT SURE HOW MUCH I learned about Fred Herko during “Fred Herko: A Crash Course,” a four-hour-plus symposium organized by Joshua Lubin-Levy and presented Saturday afternoon by NYU’s performance studies department and a bunch of other … READ ON

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Wendy City

October 2014

1.  WENDY WHELAN is twenty-two minutes late for her thirty-minute rehearsal with fellow New York City Ballet principal Robert Fairchild, who had been preparing to head out but now, smart man, quickly slips off his street shoes and gets back… READ ON

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When Life Hands You Lemon

October 2014

THERE WAS THIS MOMENT, when April Matthis was lying on the floor of the Walker Art Center’s Burnet Gallery, scream-shouting in virtuosic fashion, her red clothes and brown skin and black hair vibrant against the waiting-room-of-god–like white… READ ON

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Time and Again

August 2014

YOU ALL KNOW THE DRILL: It’s fall. There are things happening.  Here are just a few of them, as filtered through a sensibility that may in no way be compatible with your own:  1. The inimitable ballerina Wendy Whelan is giving her farewell … READ ON

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Lunch Break

August 2014

Last week, I had lunch with Anna Halprin. On her deck, in a little screened in gazebo, surrounded by a cathedral-like cluster of redwoods. She made a really good salad, which I ate more of than she did.  The hillside around us was buzzing … READ ON

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Talking About My Generation

June 2014

I DON’T CARE how long Jennifer Lacey has been an American in Paris. She’ll always be a New York dancer to me. Something about her combination of a fiercely casual physical precision (what, this old thing?) and a conceptual poetics—or is it … READ ON

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Danse the Night Away

May 2014

YOU SAY “DANSE,” and I say “dance.”  Let’s call the whole thing off.  Or, no, wait, let’s throw a big old festival, eighteen days of French performance, so that we can socialize and skirmish and generally make merry at arts institutions big… READ ON

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