‘Hey girls’ says the faune. ‘Whaddya sitting there for? Get on The Space and watch me bust my moves’. L’Après-midi d’un faune Photo: Eric Richmond Dancers: Miguel Altunaga, Gemma Nixon, Pieter Symonds and Angela Towler

Over the past few years ballet and dance has done much to promote itself through cinema and TV. Now there’s also a unique online platform called The Space, a digital arts service from Arts Council England developed in tandem with the BBC, where dance is making its presence felt. Alongside works by people like Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker and Russell Maliphant, Rambert Dance Company has thrown its hat into the ring with complete live recordings of Marguerite Donlon’s Labyrinth of Love, Itzik Galili’s SUB, Mark Baldwin’s What Wild Ecstasy and Rambert’s authentic-as-it-gets reading of Nijinsky’s L’Après-midi d’un faune.

Beautifully filmed at London’s Sadler’s Wells, all four Rambert pieces are available to watch free of charge until 26 March 2013. You’ll also find, amongst other things, music and theatre performances you can ogle too. This link will get you there in no time.

Gerard Davis

Referitor la coregrafia lui Nijinsky, Rodin spune despre mișcările faunului că sunt simple: aleargă, merge, se întoarce, îngenunchiază, se înclină și are două salturi, cel mult. Este un Nijinsky foarte diferit, dacă îl privim dansând în celelalte balete, unde salturile spectaculoase îl caracterizau. Rodin spune că Nijinsky neagă eleganța mișcărilor din baletul clasic, oferind, prin stilul din L’après-midi d’un faune, vigoare și dinamism, determinare fizică și mentală, sălbăticie și dorință. Balerinii au mișcări independente, naturale, deplasându-se ca niște siluete într-o scenă plană. Această negare a baletului clasic este, de fapt, o negare a ”grației prin grație”, formula clasicismului pur adoptată de Nijinsky în estetica metodelor coreografice proprii. Ceea ce caută Nijinsky este să își exprime sentimentele prin intermediul frumuseții structurale a corpurilor. Între muzică și coregrafie există echilibru: muzica este circulară, la fel ca și conceptul coregrafic al artistului.

Romola Nijinsky vede acest balet ca pe o revoluție totală a dansului. Nijinsky a dus baletul către principiile fundamentale, folosindu-se de linii drepte și unghiuri. A suprimat cele cinci poziții ale baletului clasic, demonstrand că tehnica lui este ”o formă de expresie perfectă, la fel ca frumusețea și farmecul unei simplități convenționale”. Nijinsky a scris în jurnalul său că a lucrat la notarea acestui balet timp de două luni, chiar dacă baletul are o durată de doar douăsprezece minute.

Bibliografie:

FAIVRE, Marc (1989). Nijinsky: el payaso de Dios. Ayuntamiento de Zaragoza (Arte
de cultura y educación): Zaragoza.
GABNER, Hubertus (2009). La danza de los colores. En torno a Nijinsky y la
abstracción. Fundación MAPFRE: Madrid.

Citește și L’après-midi d’un faune de Vaslav Nijinsky.

Pe 29 mai, 1912, are loc premiera baletului L-aprèsidi d’un faune, prima creație coregrafiă a lui Vaslav Nijinsky, la Teatrul Châatelet din Paris. În prima reprezentație au dansat Vaslav Nijinsky, Bronislava Nijinsky, Lydia Nelidova, Baranovitch, Klementovitsch, Maikerska, Kopatzynska, și Tcherepanova. Decorurile și costumele au fost create de Leon Bakst, iar muzica a fost compusă de Claude Debussy. Directorul orchestrei a fost în acea seară, Pierre Monteux.

Argumentul baletului. Njinsky a început notarea acestui balet, în timp ce se afla în arest politic în casa socrilor săi de la Budapesta și, datorită acestui lucru, a intrat în istoria dansului, celelalte balete ale lui fiind pierdute. Tot Nijinsky notează în jurnalul lui argumentul baletului: într-o după-amiază de vară, faunul se odihnește pe o stâncă. El cântă la flaut și mănâncă struguri. Dintr-o dată apar șapte nimfe care îi atrag atenția faunului, așa că se apropie de ele, dar nimfele se sperie și fug. După un timp, nimfele se întorc, iar faunul le provoacă. Ele fug iarăși, cu excepția uneia, care acceptă insinuările faunului. El încearcă s-o cuprindă, dar ea pleacă și lasă să-i cadă un văl. Faunul ia vălul și se gândește la nimfă în timp ce face dragoste cu el. Acest gest din finalul baletului a provocat un scandal imens și, cu toate acestea, toate biletele din acea stagiune au fost vândute. Totuși, reacția publicului a dus la modificarea finalului baletului.

Decorurile și costumele. Leon Bakst a conceput o atmosferă exuberantă, densă și sălbatică, cu o fantezie creativă plină de frumusețe. Când cortina s-a ridicat, publicul a văzut un decor cu un lac înconjurat de arbori, o scenă plină de culori tomnatice și vii. Exact în mijloc stătea nemișcat faunul, contemplând peisajul. Era îmbrăcat într-un body de culoare crem, fără mâneci, imprimat cu pete maro. Nijinsky și-a prelungit petele și pe brațe, desenându-le el însuși. Talia lui era marcată de o ghirlandă din frunze de viță de vie, terminată într-o coadă. Pe cap avea o perucă  pe care erau lipite cordonașe împletite aurii, care formau două coarne spre spatele capului. Urechile îi erau prelungite și ascuțite cu un material special, dându-i acel aer de ființă mitologică. Machiajul i-a schimbat total fizionomia: ochii îi erau marcați puternic cu linii oblice, iar în picioare avea sandale aurite. Efectul final a fost unul impresionant, părea jumate ființă umană, jumate ființă mitologică. Nimfele purtau tunici de tifon plisat, de culoare bej, imprimate cu motive grecești de culoare verde și albastru, iar balerinele nu aveau nimic altceva pe sub tunici. Bakst le-a învățat pe balerine să se machieze, sugerându-le culoarea roz pentru ochi. Aceeași culoarea a fost folosită și pentru manichiura de la picioare, care erau desculțe. Aveau peruci formate din cordonașe negre, fine și lungi, prinse cu altele de culoare aurie. Balerinele păreau nișe frize elenistice.

Vaslav Nijinsky și Bronislava Nijinska în L-après-midi d’un Faun, 1912.

Bibliografie

FAIVRE, Marc (1989). Nijinsky: el payaso de Dios. Ayuntamiento de Zaragoza (Arte
de cultura y educación): Zaragoza.
GABNER, Hubertus (2009). La danza de los colores. En torno a Nijinsky y la
abstracción. Fundación MAPFRE: Madrid.

Va urma.

Premiere of L’après-midi d’un faune

By Richard Cavendish |

Published in History Today Volume: 62 Issue: 5 2012

Few ballets have enjoyed as sensational a first night as The Afternoon of a Faunby the Ballets Russes at the Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris, to music by Debussy with scenery and costumes by the Russian painter Léon Bakst. The ballet was choreographed and dominated by the 22-year-old Vaslav Nijinsky, who took the leading role of the amorous faun pursuin g a group of shy, but delicious, nymphs who are on their way to a nearby lake. It broke electrifyingly with tradition and most of the other dancers did not enjoy it. Nijinsky would not let them act and told them: ‘It is all in the choreography.’ The production has been described as an attempt to fashion ‘a new language of movement’ and it heralded the modern era in ballet.

Leon Bakst’s illustration of Nijinsky as the faun on the cover of the programme for the 1912 season of the Ballet Russes

Nijinsky’s dancing was both supremely graceful and staggeringly spectacular (Dame Marie Rambert once said she did not know how high his leaps were, but they were all ‘near the stars’) and the short performance, with only about 11 minutes of dancing, was designed to resemble scenes from Ancient Greek vase paintings. At the same time it was intensely erotic and culminated in an orgasmic scene, with the faun making love to a scarf that the most desirable nymph had dropped as she ran away. One of the female dancers described Nijinsky’s movements as ‘virile and powerful’ and his way with the nymph’s scarf as ‘so animal’.

Not surprisingly the performance caused an uproar. Le Figaro condemned ‘vile movements of erotic bestiality and gestures of heavy shamelessness’ and the police were brought in for the second performance, which sold out. The ballet stayed in the repertoire for only a few years and was not resurrected until the 1980s. By that time Nijinsky was dead. Diagnosed with schizophrenia, he spent long periods in mental hospitals and died in London in 1950 at the age of 60. Rudolf Nureyev remarked years afterwards that the faun in L’après-midi was his favourite role in all ballet.

Martin Roscoe

Sixties music will take on a new meaning as Hull Philharmonic Orchestra strikes up its 2012-13 season on a celebratory note.

The popular programme of British, French and German music at Hull City Hall on November 24 will be an anniversary of players.

Renowned piano soloist Martin Roscoe, who has played all over the world, and Hull Philharmonic musical director Andrew Penny head the list in a concert that marks their 60th birthdays.

Ian Denley (flute), James Gillespie (cello) and Michael Witty (violin and deputy leader) join them in reaching the same landmark.

The concert also begins the 50th anniversary season for oboe player Diana Keech and the 40th for orchestra leader and violinist Pat Mitchell.

Mr Penny, now in his 31st season in the orchestra’s 131st year, congratulated his colleagues on their loyalty.

“We have a strong core of experienced musicians who have stayed together and helped us to maintain high standards,” he said. “We have a healthy number of young musicians too. It is a great environment for them to come into and, hopefully, become the long-serving members of the future.”

Mr Roscoe’s association with the orchestra goes back three decades to Mr Penny’s first season in 1982. He has played a number of 60th birthday concerts, including London’s Wigmore Hall, playing his favourite Beethoven, and at the City Hall it will be the Piano Concerto No4.

As a birthday gift from the orchestra, he will also take to the conductor’s stand for Wagner’s Mastersingers Overture in a rousing start to the concert.

The French contribution is Debussy’s L’apres midi d’un faune, which ends the first half of the programme.

Another highlight will be the old Lincolnshire song, Brigg Fair, which folk singer Tom Glossop will perform unaccompanied ahead of Delius’s orchestral version, regarded as one of his finest works.

Through his association with British music, Mr Penny has also chosen Parry’s fine set of Symphonic Variations.

He will be in conversation with Delius and Parry expert, Professor Jeremy Dibble, of Durham University, in a special pre-concert talk in the main hall from 6.30pm to 7.10pm for ticket holders.

Concert tickets cost from £7 to £22 and concessions are available.
Box office: 01482 300300. www.hullphilharmonic.org

Hull Philharmonic musical director Andrew Penny

Posted using Tinydesk Writer iPhone app

Sursa foto

Astăzi încep rubrica ”Baletul săptămânii” pe care o voi actualiza în fiecare week-end, postând un balet. Pentru azi am ales trei balete, ca pentru premieră, avându-l ca solist pe Rudolf Nureyev:

Petroushka, cu premiera la Teatrul Châtelet de la Paris, în 1911, pe muzica lui Igor Stravinsky, coregrafia Mikhail Fokine, interpretat de Vaslav Nijinsky;

Spectre de la Rose, cu premiera la Teatrul Monte Carlo, în 1911, pe muzica lui Carl Maria von Weber, coregrafia Mikhail Fokine, interpretat de Vaslav Nijinsky;

L’apres’midi d’un faune, cu premiera la Teatrul Châtelet, în 1912, pe muzica lui Debussy, coregrafia Vaslav Nijinsky, interpretat de Vaslav Nijinsky.

Variantele pe care le propun îi aparțin lui Rudolf Nureyev, în colaborare cu Joffrey Ballet, despre care critica spune că are cea mai bună interpretare, după original. Înaintea fiecărui balet se pot urmări interviuri ale lui Nureyev, unde vorbește despre Nijinsky, cel pe care l-a admirat de-a lungul vieții și pentru care a adus acest tribut.

Tribute to Nijinsky

]]> http://lebalet.wordpress.com/2012/09/05/lapres-midi-dun-faune-ii/ Wed, 05 Sep 2012 07:38:01 +0000 Le Ballet http://lebalet.wordpress.com/2012/09/05/lapres-midi-dun-faune-ii/
Sursa foto

La doar 23 de ani, Nijinsky a creat prima sa coregrafie, fără să presupună că era inițiatorul baletului modern. Deși L’apres-midi d’un faune are o durată de doar douăsprezece minute, repetițiile au fost 120 la număr, fapt ce arată grija lui Nijinsky pentru detalii și perfecționismul care îl caracterizau. Iubea arta lui, fiind trup și suflet în proiectele proprii și pe scenă.

Coregrafia. În acest balet se pune accent pe obținerea unor linii frumoase ale corpurilor și pe expresivitate. Mișcările sunt aparent simple, balerinii apar doar din profil, astfel se creează imagini bidimensionale ale corpurilor. Pozițiile brațelor sunt inspirate din frizele Greciei Antice, iar picioarele se mișcă în sens contrar tehnicii baletului clasic, cu degetele îndreptate în sus. Primele critici cataloghează mișcările faunului drept unele simple: aleargă, merge, se întoarce, înghenunchiază, se înclină și are două salturi cel mult. Este vorba despre un Nijinsky foarte diferit, daca analizăm celelalte reprezentații ale artistului, în care salturile erau impresionante. Nijinsky, cu această coregrafie, neagă eleganța baletului clasic, exprimând prin stilul său vigoare și dinamism, sălbăticie și dorință. Balerinii se mișcă independent într-un cadru plan, natural, cu deplasări ușoare, ca niște siluete. Negarea baletului clasic este, de fapt, negarea ”grației prin grație”, concept al clasicismului pur, care stă la baza esteticii coregrafice a lui Nijinsky. Se caută expresivitatea sentimentelor prin frumusețea structurală a corpurilor. Există echilibru între schema muzicală și coregrafie; muzica este circulară, la fel și conceptul coregrafic al lui Nijinsky.

Romola Nijinsky vede acest balet ca pe o revoluție totală pentru dans, și chiar dacă suprimă clasicul, coregraful nu exclude principiile fundamentale, folosindu-se de linii drepte și unghiuri în creație. Desființează cele cinci poziții ale baletului clasic, dar prin aplicarea liniilor drepte și a unghiurilor dă viață unei forme de expresie perfectă, comparabilă cu frumusețea și încântarea convenționalului din clasic. Nijinsky mărturisește în jurnalul său că a lucrat timp de două luni la notarea baletului.

Critica despre Faun. Pentru Nijinsky critica nu reprezenta o sursă serioasă de încredere, dată fiind lipsa lor de sensibilitate și incapacitatea de a simți și cunoaște ce experimentează un artist pe scenă. El spune că singurul interes al criticilor era să câștige influență în lumea artei, prin apropierea de persoane puternice ca Diaghilev. Balerinul își amintește ieșirile nervoase ale lui Diaghilev  la aflarea criticilor negative din presă. Acesta nu ezita să plătească ziariștii pentru materiale în favoarea companiei. Cum era de așteptat, Faunul a produs stupefacție în rândul presei, prin prisma actului masturbării din ultima scenă.

Le Figaro cataloghează Faunul drept un personaj indecent, cu un comportament josnic, curpins de un erotism bestial, cu gesturi neîndemânatice și lipsit de pudoare. Afișează un corp de bestie urât construit, cu un chip repugnant, care nu va fi niciodată acceptat de un public sincer.

Le Matin a replicat în favoarea artistului, care dă dovadă, cu Faunul, de inteligență și geniu; apreciază actul creației ca pe o dovadă de dăruire totală, o personificare perfectă a idealului de frumusețe din Grecia Antică.

Le Figaro revine cu replică, spunând că Mallarme, autorul poemului care l-a inspirat pe Nijinsky, s-ar fi bucurat să-și vadă Faunul plin de viață, într-un decor în culori arzătoare, visând pe muzica învăluitoare a lui Debussy și supunându-se plasticii armonioase a coregrafului.

Nijinsky avea o comunicare optimă cu cei din jurul său doar prin intermediul mișcărilor. Era introvertit, timid și dominat de gânduri și idei care îi influențau existența. Inclusiv explicațiile conceptelor sale coregrafice erau oferite balerinilor prin intermediul mișcărilor, și nu verbal.

Interpretarea lui Rudolf Nureyev din 1980 este considerată cea mai bună, după original. Însă, ca expresivitate, consider că George de la Peña, în interpretarea din filmul Nijinsky din 1980, are o atitudine foarte apropiată de cea descrisă.

Aveți atașate ambele variante.

Rudolf Nureyev, 1980.

George de la Peña, 1980.

Bibliografie

Nijinsky: el payaso de Dios. Marc Faivre, 1989.

La danza de los colores. En torno a Nijinsky y la abstracción. Hubertus Gabner, 2009.

Pe 22 mai 1912, are loc premiera baletului L’apres-midi d’un faune, la Teatrul Châtelet de la Paris. Prima reprezentație i-a avut ca protagoniști pe Nijinsky, Bronislava Nijinska, Lydia Nelidova, Baranovitch, Klementovitsch, Maikerska, Kopatzynska și Tcherepanova. Decorurile și costumele i-au aparținut lui Leon Bakst, iar muzica lui Claude Debussy. Dirijorul Orchestrei din seara premierei a fost Pierre Monteux.

Argumentul baletului. Când Nijinsky rămâne izolat sub arest politic, în casa socrilor săi de la Budapesta, începe să noteze primul său balet. Cu această notare, baletul a intrat în istoria dansului, fiind și unica sa operă care s-a păstrat. În cazul celorlalte balete, au rămas doar fotografii, care nu reprezintă o sursă suficientă pentru a reproduce o coregrafie. Nijinsky povestește în jurnalul său argumentul baletului: într-o după amiază de vară un faun se odihnea pe o stâncă. Cânta la flaut și mânca struguri. Dintr-odată, apar șapte nimfe. Faunul se apropie de ele, însă acestea se sperie și fug. După un timp, nimfele se reîntorc, iar faunul vrea să comunice cu ele. Fug din nou, cu excepția uneia, care acceptă curtarea. Când faunul încearcă să o prindă, ea pleacă, lăsând în urma sa voalul pe care îl purta. La finalul baletului, faunul face dragoste cu voalul, gândindu-se la nimfă. Acest gest a provocat un scandal imens în societatea pariziană a acelei vremi, astfel încât Nijinsky s-a văzut obligat să modifice coregrafia. Cu toate acestea, toate biletele au fost vândute. Scandalurile provocate în teatre de coregrafii lui Diaghilev erau deja rețete de succes în epuizarea biletelor dintr-un sezon.

Decorurile și costumele. Decorurile lui Leon Bakst dau viață unei atmosfere exuberante, densă și sălbatică, într-o fantezie creativă de o frumusețe captivantă. La ridicarea cortinei, publicul vede un peisaj în mijlocul căruia se află un lac înconjurat de arbori, o imagine în culori tomnatice, ruptă parcă din natură. În realitatea acelei imagini onirice, faunul stătea întins chiar în mijloc, nemișcat, contemplând frumusețea peisajului. Nijinsky purta un body de culoarea pielii, fără mâneci, imprimat cu pete maronii, pictate chiar de Leon Bakst. Balerinul întregește vestimentația sa, pictându-și singur pete și pe brațe, cauzând un efect de prelungire a costumului, fără a se observa diferența dintre piele și material. Avea talia marcată de o ghirlandă din frunze de viță de vie. Pe cap purta o perucă lipită cu mai multe cordoane împletite din trese aurite, formând două coarne mici. Avea urechile prelungite într-o formă ascuțită, cu ajutorul unui material special, dându-i acel aer de creatură mitologică. Liniile oblice marcate deasupra ochilor și machiajul au modificat în mare parte trăsăturile balerinului, alcătuind un aspect sălbatic. În picioare purta o pereche de sandale din barete subțiri, aurite. Efectul apariției a fost extraordinar, fără a se determina diferența dintre ființa umană și ființa mitologică.

Nimfele purtau tunici din mătase plisată, culoarea crem, împodobite cu imprimeuri cu motive grecești, de culoarea bleumarin sau albastru pal. Sub tunici, balerinele nu aveau lenjerie intimă sau body, hotărârea fiind luată de Bakst, care credea că acestea pot modifica linia suavă din apariția scenică. Tot el le învață cum să se machieze, sugerând culoarea roz pentru farduri și pentru oja de pe unghiile de la picioarele desculțe. Purtau și ele peruci confecționate din trese subțiri și foarte lungi, împletite din cordonașe aurii. Balerinele, în apariția lor, păreau frize elenistice.

Bibliografie

Nijinsky: el payaso de Dios. Marc Faivre, 1989.

La danza de los colores. En torno a Nijinsky y la abstracción. Hubertus Gabner, 2009.

]]> http://imagesofdance.me/2012/06/21/quem-foi-sergei-diaghilev/ Thu, 21 Jun 2012 08:39:07 +0000 Images of Dance http://imagesofdance.me/2012/06/21/quem-foi-sergei-diaghilev/

“Aclamado como “o maior produtor de teatro que já existiu” e campeão de todas as coisas belas, Sergei Diaghilev não apenas transformou o ballet mas todas as artes do século 20.” - The Guardian

Sergei Diaghilev via the Victoria and Albert Museum

What Wild Ecstasy – Rambert

Ballet Rambert – 15th May 2012

L’Apres-midi d’un Faune – a gallery

What Wild Ecstasy – a gallery

Check out this interview with Mark Baldwin, who is celebrating 10 years as Rambert’s Artistic Director. Mark talks to The Ballet Bag about the diversity of styles being presented in this current bill, ranging from the 100 year old Faun to his brand new piece, What Wild Ecstasy, the only dance work to have been especially commissioned for the Cultural Olympiad.

Sometimes I wish I were educated. Sometimes I wish I could say I wish I was educated without being aware of the misuse of the subjunctive. The problem is that like most people I’m semi-educated, or probably octo-educated. Being a spiller of words, the whole master plan is to sound like I know what I’m gabbling about.  And that brings me to the subject of French Symbolist Poetry, the works of Stéphane Mallarmé, the painter Manet and the composer Claude Debussy. These titans of the Arts are unified by many things and now another chain of artistic unity binds them even closer together. Yes – I know absolutely nothing about them.

I stumbled across these gentlemen whilst researching the matter of poetry and its links with music. Thanks to Wikipedia, any old bash-along blogger can appear erudite and pulsating with nodes of knowledge. Les poèms de Mallarmé were deeply inspirational to other artists and also had sonic properties so that the words could mean many different things, particularly when read aloud. The composer Debussy wrote his tone poem “Prélude à l’après midi d’un faune”  probably thinking it was about a baby deer wandering about after lunch. To the artist such as myself, the sonic interpretation of the poem is a guy waking up and thinking about decorating his living room with a kind of beige emulsion paint if his missus goes up the bingo later on. Manet gets in on the show by having painted the poet. Do not tell me that you cannot see the hints and reflections of fawn in the flesh tones and the vibrant brush strokes. To the modern Frenchman the word faune could sound like phone and so a unity between Fauvism and Futurism is established. Since the phone did not exist when the poem was written, the sonic symbolism predicted its invention and arrival – almost certainly after a long Gallic lunch. The  iPhone is a first person narrative poem by Bambi in rap-speak.

I know I should not mock because a few days ago I did the audio book for my collection of poems “I Threw A Stone”. A chance reading of a guide to an exhibition of Degas revealed the link between Debussy and Mallarmé. At once I realised that I could walk in the footsteps of giants. I put on my poet’s overalls and an arty expression. I have the fortune to know a very talented young composer and asked her to write and play a small piece to reflect the title poem. The result was beautiful and I rather fear that people will prefer the music to the sound of my voice. I know that’s how I feel about it.

I first came across the notion of post-wotsit intellectualism when I went to an art exhibition by the post-impressionists thinking it was a P.R. initiative by the Royal Mail. This led me to read about being a post-modernist. Seemingly the post modernists came after the futurists who are actually quite ancient, having been around before the modernists. My contribution to the catalogue of intellectual post-isms is the term Post-Boomerism. I define it as a state of realisation that the architects of free love and youth culture will one day soonish suffer the droop, dangle a while and die. The software we wrote had that final glitch. It wouldn’t happen these days.

Nijinsky in L’Après-midi d’un faune

I have a fascination with Nijinsky. I think his extraordinary vision forever changed the world of ballet as it was then known. I find interest in the many different versions of his ballets, be it L’Après-midi d’un faune or Sacre du Printemps. Though I have witnessed many different variations of Sacre du Printemps be it by Martha Graham, Maurice Bejart or my favorite of all, Pina Bausch’s, all stretch the imagination and original concept of Nijinsky’s work.

Here I have discovered two widely yet similar interpretations of L’après-midi d’un faune (Afternoon of the Faune). Below is a solo for danced wonderfully by Wallace Jones, choreographed by Fabrice Jucquois and performed for the International Aids Tanzgala in Regensburg, Germany in November of 2010.

Prelude à l’après midi d’un Faune

Music: Claude Debussy

Choreography: Fabrice Jucquois      Dancer:Wallace Jones

Below is a very provocative duet, choreographed by Sergio Simon, director of the Ballet Opéra de Limoges (Limoges Opera Ballet) in April of 2010. It also sticks to the original concept of Nijinsky’s L’Après-midi d’un faune, the faune lost and confused within the throes of sensuality or a maybe it is a newly awakened sense of his own lust.

L’après-midi d’un faune

Ballet Opéra de Limoges

Music: Claude Debussy

Choreography: Sergio Simon

April 2010

I applaud both pieces for their originality and conviction!

Nijinsky in L’Après-midi d’un faune

]]> http://nycdancestuff.wordpress.com/2011/11/06/for-bidden-we-come-the-lara-wilson-dance-project/ Sun, 06 Nov 2011 19:31:27 +0000 NYC Dance Stuff http://nycdancestuff.wordpress.com/2011/11/06/for-bidden-we-come-the-lara-wilson-dance-project/

For Bidding We Come Lara Wilson Dance Project

I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to witness a rehearsal for the Lara Wilson Dance Project’snew evening-length work entitled For Bidden We Come, to have its world premier at Galapagos Art Space on November 8th. This will be Ms. Wilson
first evening long piece and is a collaborative work in which everyone involved, dancers, choreographer, lighting designer, prop designer, graphic designer, costume designer, sound designer, and videographer are all 25 and under.

For Bidden We Come depicts the evolution of shame in the feminine psyche. The piece examines the solo and shared relationships of its five performers, which in turn explores loneliness, regret and the pursuits entailed in getting to know one’s self.

Ms. Wilson’s movement comes from an organic place but at the same times exhibits a deep cerebral process. The choreography is made up of movement that has a relaxed quality and easy feel. For Bidden We Come begins playfully,“Empty Set” is  a balloon solo for Sara Genoves-Sylvan. Ms. Genoves-Sylvan begins with her nose to the balloon and it escalates to a more dynamic relationship, as if frustration and aggravation are being released upon the balloon. I found myself smiling throughout and making me intrigued and curious.

Byron Roman and Abbe Ouziel, in “Regret, A Duet”, are wrestling with the duality of an interpersonal relationship, a struggle for dominance, with neither giving in.  Mr. Roman expects his traditional role of masculine authority to be understood and accepted, while Ms. Ouziel questions the patriarchal expectations of Mr. Roman and does not except the rational of the supposed status quo. It is well danced with precise technique and deep feeling.

Ms. Wilson has interspersed her dance with very small movements that are so important and vital for emphasis. Two fingers drawing an arch on the floor by dancers while in a prone position, also the occasional touching of face or slapping of hands or a body part. There are significant pauses or moments of stillness and other times elements of controlled chaos, all of which are essential. In all, it keeps the eye trained to the dancers, expectantly looking forward to the next movement.

It times I found the piece to go from intense romanticism to the innocence of child’s play. There is something reminiscent of the great romantic ballets of the past, almost an ode to. There are sections of the dance that brought to mind the imagery Nijinsky’s L’après-midi d’un faune.  Ms. Wilson use of diagonal body positions while moving and in the placement of the hands and feet that  made me think that if Nijinsky had a grand-daughter it would be Lara Wilson!

Lara Wilson

Originally from Michigan, Lara Wilson has studied at the School at Jacob’s Pillow, San Francisco Conservatory of Dance, and the Taylor School, learning and performing repertory by Robert Battle, Elisa Monte, Ohad Naharin, Jiri Kylian, and Paul Taylor. She graduated summa cum laude from the Ailey/Fordham B.F.A. Program, where she completed a thesis in Choreography under the mentorship of Kazuko Hirabayashi and Joanna Mendl-Shaw as well as a minor in Women’s Studies.

Lara Wilson Dance Project is fiscally sponsored by The Field, a not-for-profit, tax-exempt, 501 (c) (3) organization serving the New York City performing arts community. Contributions to Lara Wilson through The Field are tax-deductible to the extent allowed by law. For more information about The Field contact: The Field, 161 Sixth Avenue, New York, NY 10013, (212) 691-6969, fax: (212) 255-2053. A copy of The Field’s latest annual report may be obtained, upon request, from The Field or from the Office of the Attorney General, Charities Bureau, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.

For booking and inquiries: larawilsondance@gmail.com

For Bidden We Come

Choreography by Lara Wilson

Dancers

Sara Genoves-Sylvan, Byron Roman, Abbe Ouziel,
Fana Fraser, Collin Heyward

Tuesday

November 8

Doors open  7 PM

Performance at 8 PM

Tickets:

$18/$12

Galapagos Art Space, 16 Main Street.
Brooklyn, NY 11201

Galapagos Art Space is located at the corner of Main St and Water St in DUMBO, Brooklyn. Take the F to York, the A/C to High, or the 2/3 to Clark. Also accessible by the East River Ferry to the Fulton Ferry Landing stop in Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Gloved, A new work by Lara Wilson

Choreography by Lara Wilson

Directed by Jonah Einstein

Danced by Sara Genoves-Sylvan and Marquet K. Lee

Produced by Mike Townsend; special thanks to Jeremy Schaller

Music by Louis Armstrong and Dmitri Shostakovich

It would be historically convenient to able to say that Debussy’s tone poem was itself based on Baudelaire, but as it turns out, the actual poetic inspiration was an 1876 work by Stéphane Mallarmé, The Afternoon of a Faun. The faun in question is an ancient Roman deity, much like a satyr. He is in pursuit of nymphs, and the sensuality of his pursuit is the subject both of Mallarmé’s poem and Debussy’s musical take on it. Images in the poem slide around on each other like so many layers of micah (trans. by Roger Fry):

Was it a dream I loved?
My doubt, a heap of ancient nights, is finishing
in many a subtle branch which, left the true
wood itself, proves, alas!, that all alone I gave
myself for triumph the ideal sin of roses.

Debussy’s music similarly slips and slides this way and that, as befits the composer’s aesthetic. “I am more and more convinced,” Debussy said in a proclamation of his musical beliefs, “that music by its very nature is something that cannot be cast into a traditional and fixed form. It is made up of colors and rhythms. . . .”

- Kenneth LaFave

TO PURCHASE THIS NOTE IN ITS ENTIRETY, send an email to: ProgramNotes@aol.com with “debussy faun” in the subject line. You will receive the note (553 words total) as an email document and be invoiced for $50. Payment is requested within 10 business days by PayPal or major credit card. Thank you.

La critique complète et illustrée sur Dansomanie

La France, on le sait, aime à commémorer, mais sa mémoire est souvent sélective. Les Ballets Russes ont beau avoir cent ans cette année et être à l’origine de maints bouleversements dans l’histoire de la danse, il aura fallu attendre octobre 2009 pour qu’une institution publique française se charge de rappeler l’anniversaire de leur première apparition à Paris, en mai 1909. A l’heure où les compagnies entament leur nouvelle saison, c’est donc au Ballet de Bordeaux de lancer l’hommage français aux Ballets Russes, par un programme d’oeuvres emblématiques de la troupe de Diaghilev, presque similaire – Le Sacre en plus et Le Tricorne en moins -, à celui que donnera en décembre prochain – sans réelle volonté de se démarquer de l’ordinaire des programmations attachées à cette célébration -, le Ballet de l’Opéra de Paris.

La soirée concoctée à Bordeaux par Charles Jude, si elle omet les créations de l’année 1909, trouve son unité autour d’oeuvres majeures appartenant à la période initiale des Ballets Russes et illustrant, chacune à leur manière, le lien profond entre Diaghilev et la France. On aurait certes aimé découvrir dans ce programme quelque trésor méconnu des premières Saisons Russes, mais à défaut, on aura apprécié de revoir les ouvrages les plus fameux de ce répertoire, représentés qui plus est dans leurs scénographies originales, signées Léon Bakst (L’Après-midi d’un Faune, Le Spectre de la rose), Alexandre Benois (Petrouchka), ou Nicolas Roerich (Le Sacre du printemps). Investis d’une importance et d’une signification comparables à la chorégraphie et à la musique, les décors et les costumes colorés et oniriques des Ballets Russes participent toujours à l’évidence du pouvoir de fascination que ceux-ci exercent sur le public.

Le rideau de scène de Petrouchka avec ses démons noirs, velus et inquiétants, tournoyant dans le ciel de Saint-Pétersbourg autour des flèches de l’Amirauté, nous donne d’emblée la tonalité du ballet, curieux mélange de réalisme pittoresque et de de fantastique, de tentation folkloriste et d’expressionnisme Belle-Epoque. Des quatre oeuvres présentées, toutes profondément ancrées dans l’esthétique totalisante chère à Diaghilev et à la modernité, Petrouchka est aussi, sans doute, celle qui parvient le mieux à transcender l’esprit d’une époque. En réactualisant aussi bien le Guignol russe que les types éternels de la Commedia dell’Arte (Pierrot, Arlequin, Colombine, métamorphosés dans les figures de Petrouchka, du Maure et de la Ballerine), le ballet nous plonge dans l’univers du mythe, qui prend ici des accents particuliers, oscillant constamment, et jusqu’au dénouement – “bizarre” -, entre mélancolie et grotesque.

Si la scène du Grand-Théâtre ne permet pas de conférer une grande ampleur aux spectaculaires scènes de foule des premier et quatrième tableaux, elle sait en retour restituer au mieux une intimité sensorielle avec le public, en accord avec l’esthétique de fête foraine que suggèrent simultanément la musique de Stravinski et la chorégraphie de Fokine. Les trois marionnettes, interprétées par Roman Mikhalev (Petrouchka), Oksana Kucheruk (la Ballerine) et Alvaro Rodriguez Piñera (le Maure) nous offrent là des ensembles précis, à la coordination impeccable, dont la gestuelle saccadée et mécanique cherche à reproduire celle des automates. Les scènes intimes et “fermées” laissent ensuite à lire toute leur virtuosité théâtrale, entre grandeur et petitesse, à l’image des anti-héros qu’ils incarnent. Ce Petrouchka nous laisse pourtant, in fine, moins l’impression d’un ballet d’individualités que celle d’un ballet collectif : la foule y incarne au fond un personnage en soi, un corps à part entière, d’emblée saisissant et à même de retenir l’attention pour lui-même et dans ses diverses incarnations populaires, grâce aux pouvoirs conjugués de la musique, de la chorégraphie et de la mise en scène.

En termes d’interprétation, L’Après-midi d’un Faune dominait toutefois l’ensemble de la représentation, et pas seulement au titre de “souvenir ému”. Charles Jude en effet retrouvait là le rôle du Faune, un rôle qu’il a marqué et continue de marquer de son empreinte aujourd’hui. Rien à voir avec le caprice de ces stars qui refusent de décrocher, s’imposant malencontreusement à nous dans des rôles incongrus quand il n’est plus temps… Charles Jude, à l’inverse, se révèle, avec son physique vif et mobile, non seulement un interprète idéal de cette gestuelle de vase grec, appuyée dans le sol et poussant jusqu’à la caricature le refus de l’en-dehors, qui caractérise la chorégraphie de Nijinsky, mais il suggère aussi à merveille, jusque dans son étonnant rictus, cette sensualité troublante et bizarre attachée au rôle du Faune. Le face-à-face, bref et intense, avec la Grande Nymphe, campée par Stéphanie Roublot, se révèle d’autant plus saisissant, qu’il semble comme abolir toute tension dramatique. Autour d’eux, les Six Nymphes forment un choeur harmonieux, au style parfaitement maîtrisé.

Il faut bien avouer que les interprètes du Spectre de la rose, Vladimir Ippolitov, dont on soulignera la présence séduisante et les très beaux ports de bras, et Emmanuelle Grizot, quelque peu en difficulté avec le style de la chorégraphie, peinent ensuite à susciter le même enthousiasme. Difficile du reste de s’affirmer avec tout le brio souhaité au sein de cette pièce virtuose, et face aux modèles que sont les interprètes majeurs du rôle, de Mikhaïl Barychnikov à Herman Cornejo, qui s’imposent malgré tout à notre esprit.

Le Sacre du printemps offrait enfin la conclusion à ce programme d’hommage. Précisons d’emblée que la version que propose le Ballet de Bordeaux n’est pas exactement celle de Nijinsky, ou tout au moins la reconstruction bien connue de celle-ci, due aux travaux conjoints de Kenneth Archer et Millicent Hodson et filmée avec le Joffrey Ballet (pour qui elle fut recréée), et, plus récemment, avec le Ballet du Mariinsky. Il s’agit en fait de la version de Léonide Massine (1920), qui se veut une réécriture de celle de Nijinsky, transmise directement par Susanna Della Pietra, assistante du chorégraphe lors de la dernière reprise de son Sacre pour le Mai Musical florentin en 1973. En-dehors des personnages du Vieux Sage et de la Vieille Femme, absents de cette version, il faut toutefois être un spécialiste pour percevoir clairement toutes les nuances chorégraphiques et stylistiques apportées par Massine à l’original (elles sont largement détaillées dans le programme ; on relèvera notamment que les pieds, chez Massine, ne sont pas véritablement positionnés en-dedans), allant dans le sens d’une simplification de l’argument.

Cette mise au point faite, Le Sacre des Ballets Russes, qu’il soit nijinskien ou massinien, a beau demeurer une oeuvre mythique, qui a bouleversé l’histoire de la danse comme on le répète couramment dans les livres, il est peu de dire que cette reprise aujourd’hui – et l’on en dirait sans doute autant de la reconstruction de Kenneth Archer -, est loin de pouvoir restituer au public le tremblement que l’oeuvre a suscité en son temps. Où est pour nous, spectateurs des années 2000, le parfum de scandale qui l’entourait? Où est la violence primitive qui l’imprégnait? On saisit des images ici ou là, certes, mais au fond, dans ce ballet dont les interprètes ne sont nullement en cause, à commencer par la puissante et sensuelle Juliane Bubl dans le rôle de l’Elue, tout semble se passer comme si… Comme si la danse était condamnée à recréer éternellement le Sacre, son Sacre, celui apte à éclairer son temps, plutôt que de répéter celui d’un déjà lointain passé, que l’on ne parvient plus à ressaisir autrement que par une forme toujours plus hypothétique, peu à peu vidée de son sens. Car ce que l’on voit ici, ce sont sans doute des costumes et des décors patiemment reconstitués, des poses et une gestuelle célèbres reproduites minutieusement d’après gravures, films ou photographies, et puis… et puis rien, ou du moins pas grand-chose, sinon une chorégraphie qui tente vainement de se hisser à la hauteur d’une composition musicale qui la dépasse continûment par sa force d’évocation – sa “barbarie” convulsive. Ne reste alors de toute cette agitation, qui sans doute n’est pas loin de flirter avec un certain kitsch, que cette musique, une musique fracassante et pleine d’audace, de cette audace (emblématisée par le “Etonne-moi” de Cocteau) que l’on voudrait peut-être voir davantage à l’oeuvre à l’occasion de cette célébration mondiale, et parfois bien conventionnelle, du centenaire des Ballets Russes.

“Wenn man die deutsch/österreichische Musik mit einem Ölgemälde vergleichen würde, dann wäre Debussys Musik wie ein Aquarell. Oder wie eine Art von Malerei, die erst noch erfunden werden muss!” (Sir Simon Rattle).

L’après-midi d’un faune (Nachmittag eines Fauns)

La Mer

Clair de lune

Zwei Ausschnitte, mit dem Thema Debussy, aus der TV-Doku Reihe “Die  Musik des 20. Jahrhunderts” (In Englisch mit spanischen Untertiteln), moderiert von Simon Rattle:

Videos leider nicht mehr verfügbar!

Zu Lebzeiten bewundert wie kein Zweiter, mehrfach als Genie und Gott des Tanzes bezeichnet, versetzt der Star der Ballets Russes, Vaslav Nijinsky (1889-1950) sein Publikum weltweit in Staunen. Betörend wie verstörend sind seine Choreografien. Die erotisch aufgeladene Interpretation des Mallarmé Gedichts „L’Après-midi d’un faune“ zur impressionistischen Musik Debussys erregt bereits 1912 die Tanzwelt. Erst recht ein Jahr später „Le Sacre du Printemps“. Nichts von spätromantischer Schwärmerei, schwingender Melodik oder harmonischer Verfeinerung – den Substraten bürgerlicher Ballettkunst. Strawinskys Musik donnert mit der Wucht von Maschinen durch den archaischen Stoff und Nijinsky, gerade mal 23 Jahre alt, inszeniert den heidnisch blutigen Ritualmord. Der Sacre revoltiere gegen alles, wofür das klerikale Russland stehe, vermerkte Strawinsky später. Der Zusammenbruch der alten Ordnung lag am Vorabend des I. Weltkriegs in der Luft und dem Pariser Premieren-Publikum dämmerte, wie dünn der zivilisatorische Firnis ist.

„Ich hatte Angst vor den Leuten und schloss mich in meinem Zimmer ein“ schreibt Nijinsky nach einem improvisierten Soloabend 1919 in sein Tagebuch und fährt fort: „Ich starrte mit Vorliebe die Wände und die Decke an, denn sie sprachen mir vom Tod. Ich wusste nicht, wie ich mich aufheitern sollte und ging zu einer Kokotte.“ Zitate der geheimen Aufzeichnungen, die das Ende der Tänzerkarriere markieren, sind Leitfaden des Stückes „Re-inventing Nijinsky“. Koproduziert von der Ludwigsburger Tanz- und Theaterwerkstatt, beeindruckt das „Hörspiel in Bewegung“ in der Karlskaserne nicht zuletzt durch wunderbar abgemischte Klänge, irgendwo zwischen Fantasiekomödie und Stummfilmbegleitung. Komponiert von Mark Lorenz Kysela durchzieht die Tonspur aus „Sacre“- und „L’Après-midi d’un faune“-Fragmenten sowie nahezu perfekter Sprache (Stimme: Marten Güppertz) in Französisch, Deutsch und Niederländisch, ein schweinisches Grunzen.

Fabelhaft die Bühne von Adrian Silvestri und Chyle, deren Zentrum ein Wohnwagen ist, irgendwo in den Schweizer Bergen. Symbol der Enge, des Rückzugs und der Ortlosigkeit, ein Fixpunkt für den Rastlosen flackert hin und wieder das Innenleben (gefährlich) rot auf. Oder Aktionen werden per Video (Ko-Performer und Videos: Alexander Schmidt) auf die Außenseite projiziert. Da mampft der bekennende Vegetarier Nijinsky (mit russischer Fellkappe) eine Gurke, kippt mit seinem Kumpel ein paar Schnäpse.

Schonungslos im Umgang mit sich selbst treiben Fragen nach Gott und Tod den Tänzer ebenso um, wie Verdauungsprobleme. Viele der – vor 90 Jahren verfassten – Kommentare zu Themen wie Finanzwelt, Aufrüstung, Krieg, Klimaschutz oder Ernährung wirken erschreckend aktuell. Andere Texte klingen ernüchternd banal oder aber wie ein dadaistisches Gedicht, in dem sich der Russe mit der französischen Sprache herumschlägt und dabei Hintersinn produziert. Ist dieser kritisch reflektierende Geist wirklich dem Wahnsinn verfallen? Spitzt Nijinsky Gemüts- und Gesellschaftszustände zu bis zur Kenntlichkeit?

Chyles Performance kratzt weniger am zivilisatorischen Firnis als am Mythos des vom klassischen Tanz vereinnahmten Tänzers. Hinter dem angehimmelten Virtuosen – von dem man sagte, dass er auf dem Höhepunkt des Sprunges kurz wie ein Ballon verharren konnte – erscheint das Psychogramm eines Mannes, der down and out, umnebelt und umnachtet, eher notgeil als schwul, sich in Selbstzweifeln windet. Scheut er das Licht oder sucht er es? Fallend, robbend und zuckend wird er von einer herabstürzenden Lampe (beim Onanieren) kalt erwischt, richtet sich auf und findet sich unter der eisigen Lichtdusche in einer klassischen Fünften wieder (Licht: Doris Schopf). Ein Schelm, der dabei Böses denkt.

Nicht die einzige Reminiszenz an den akademischen Tanz, begibt sich der Darsteller Chyle für einen kurzen Ballett-Crashkurs zwischen die Zuschauer. Chyle mag das Publikum und vice versa. Anders Nijinsky, der sagt „Ich will nicht in St. Moritz tanzen, denn die Leute mögen mich nicht“. Er wolle nicht tanzen, was man von ihm erwarte, sondern was er fühle, schreibt er, ganz Kind des aufkommenden Expressionismus. Statt nach apollinischen Höhenflügen war ihm nach dionysischem Ausrasten, sich in Depressionen suhlen, die Sau raus lassen, den inneren Schweinehund töten, lange bevor die Wiener Aktionskünstler ihre Schlachtplatten angerichtet haben.

„Diese Lustbarkeit reicht mir für den Rest meines Lebens“ folgert Nijinsk aus der Veranstaltung in St. Moritz. „Lustbarkeit ist der Tod der Vernunft. Ich fürchte den Tod und darum liebe ich das Leben.“ Also spricht ein Unsterblicher.

Nun ja… Aus irgend einem Grund werden diese Kalendereinträge immer kultureller. (Personally I blame Wikipedia…)

Was steht heute an? Ein bisschen Debussy:

Ein bisschen David Lean (unter Mithilfe von Omar “Moustache of Doom” Sharif):

Was ist das aber schon im Vergleich mit der Geburt der Gebrüder Gibb im Jahre 1949?

Man muss sich folgende Lyrics schon fast auf der Zunge zergehen lassen:

Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk,
I’m a woman’s man: no time to talk.

Hier zur Veranschaulichung:

As established, “Almost Plausible” is a blog wherein I tell lies about historical figures.  I am personally of the opinion that ridiculous lies become funny only when told with a straight face.   This guy agrees with me.  In effect then, the design of this blog must be the web design equivalent of a “straight face”.  Easy.

My blog theme is called “White as Milk”.  The theme’s page tell us that:

White as Milk is a clean template that puts focus on the content rather than the design.

Which is good.  Obviously, “Almost Plausible” is no place for dirt-style hysterics.  The design must be  sober, professional, unobtrusive.

And “White As Milk” is about as sober and unobtrusive as wordpress themes get.  It tends very strongly towards the “minimalist impulse”, which is always in fashion.  Always.  As Olia Lialina notes, classy web 2.0 design has a “light”, “almost ethereal” feel to it.  This is certainly true of the “White as Milk” theme.

"Look at that man, there is so much white there, it's almost, it's almost like I'm not even on the Internet at all." This is apparently the kind of reaction most web designers wish to elicit from their users.

Of course, it’s important not to go too far with the whole minimalist thing.  WordPress themes seem to me to be generally more minimalist than Blogspot blogs, which seem kind of boxy and hewing closer to the Web 1.0 ideal of web design which imitated the printed page*, while Tumblr blogs are almost without exception gorgeous, but at the same time incredibly vapid.  Being ‘White as Milk’ on WordPress is then, a fine compromise.   The theme is designed such that you are still encouraged to actually read the post (as opposed to going “ooh” at the pretty pictures), while at the same time not looking amateurish and gauche.  Hooray for the elegance of WordPress.

However, as fine a compromise as it is, one is still somewhat limited with what one can do with the WordPress themes.  Once you have chosen your theme, there is precious little one can do to make alterations to it.  “THAT IS NOT TRUE AT ALL,” says WordPress’ creators, “WORDPRESS IS FREE OPEN SOURCE SOFTWARE, YOU CAN AND ARE ENCOURAGED TO DOWNLOAD SAID SOFTWARE AND MAKE AS MANY ALTERATIONS AS YOU WANT, FREEWARE IS LOVE, ALL HAIL THE NEW WORLD ORDER,” etc.

And all of that is true of course, provided you’re the kind of fellow who knows how to do code.  I am not the kind of fellow who knows how to do code, however.  WordPress tells us that “Code is Poetry“, but then so is Mallarmé, and that doesn’t mean I want to go around re-writing “L’après-midi d’un faune” now is it?  I wouldn’t know where to begin even.

Difficult sort of thing to be fiddling around with.

And as such I, and all the other code-illiterate netizens are stuck with whatever the WordPress nerds feel like handing down to us.  You can still alter your blog a little bit with widgets and things, which I have done, but these are fairly limited in what they can do.

Of course it does seem a bit tautological to be arguing that “The problem with wordpress is that people who don’t know how to play with code can’t play with its code”, but it is worth bearing in mind.  As I have said, I think the theme I have accomplishes my “straight face” objective  fairly well.  But I am not suggesting that it is the platonic ideal of “Historical Parody design.”

What would be this platonic ideal though?  Well, one asks oneself: What is the most self-consciously serious and encyclopedic website on all the internets?  And the answer will of course be: Wikipedia, duh.  Anyone who has had a gander at some of their article discussions will notice a seriousness of purpose there last seen at the drafting of the Treaty of Versailles.  Hence, if I had the coding know-how, surely my best bet at making a historical parody site would be to set up a site which mimics Wikipedia, right?

No, wrong.  There’s already a site like that, called Uncyclopedia, and it’s about as funny as tuberculosis.  The problem with creating a wiki parody site is that it’s a wiki, which means that anyone can add content, and the problem with that is that most people are not funny, and the problem with that is that most people make up for being not funny by being racist tools.

So, although it would look good, wiki architecture ultimately makes for a poorly designed site.  Hence, ‘Almost Plausible’ will continue to appear as it does for the foreseeable future.

*Actually, now that I think about it, this is probably being a bit unfair on Blogspot design.  Most Blogspot blogs are probably just as minimalist as WordPress ones are.  I think I find Blogspot offputting just because I equate its design with that horrible vomity orange logo they have.  Why orange, Blogspot?  Nobody wants to see that little favicon everywhere, stop it.  I would put the Blogspot logo right up there with Google’s obviously mum-designed logo at the top of my “Things I Don’t Want To Look At Ever But Can’t Avoid Looking At Everyday” list.