With the issue of racial identity common fodder for the increasingly politically minded and socially conscious avant-garde movements since the mid-'60s, the theme of "Black Womanhood" has long established itself in the rhetoric of the art world.
Courtesy of Ballet Dance Magazine / The Dartmouth Staff Without even a bit of dance knowledge under my belt, I came to believe in the Merce Cunningham experience. Typical of Cunningham, rather than returning to a celebration of his past works for the seminal 50th anniversary of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company, he continued on his ceaselessly inventive departure from his experience in traditional dance into a world of glorious experimentation with the most current in a string of innovative collaborators -- Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg are noteworthy past examples. Yet as complicated as his work remains, Cunningham proved that even the most inexperienced audience members could be given a chance to act as participants in the translation of his richly conceived work. To call Cunningham simply a choreographer doesn't do him justice; his work blurs the boundaries between dance, art and music, and makes a commentary on all three. In a way, it is appropriate that I was originally attracted to Cunningham's work through the music rather than any other facet. And the notion of chance is what Cunningham's work is about -- "Chance Operations," to be specific, a term that Cunningham himself branded with his lifelong collaborator and companion John Cage to serve as a formula for the Cunningham experience. Their famed method relies on the completely isolated production of all three forms of music, art, and dance in order for a natural, spontaneous explosion of creativity to occur on stage before the audience's eyes. Each night, a roll of the dice will determine which of the two compositions will go first.
Courtesy of Rebecca Treat Ward The frenzy over Wenda Gu's "the green house" died down by fall 2006.
I came to Dartmouth knowing I wanted to join Glee Club. But I've slowly come to accept that my constant singing consists of badly fumbled lyrics, voice-cracking and occasionally successful rapping.
Lauren Wool / The Dartmouth Senior Staff Last time I checked, abstract expressionism was dead.
It is easy to hate the Programming Board. Really, it is not even original anymore. The ubiquitous name "Programming Board" is tacked onto everything from concerts to Bingo Night, but most people have no idea what they do or how they work.
Editor's Note: This is the third in a series of articles profiling senior artists and their involvement in the arts at Dartmouth. Most seniors spend their Fall term panicking over endless resumes while juggling theses. The sudden realization of their upcoming introduction to the real world throws most ...