Apr 222017
 

I stumbled across this short dance film years ago. I hadn’t seen it since, but for some reason, tonight I sat down and watched it, and I was as moved by it now as I remember being then.

The film, a montage of long shots, close-ups and tableaux organized by a shared dance and the rhythms of the soundtrack, has a cast of six dancers in three couples: a man in a suit and woman in a dress, a gay couple in sweats and marcels, and a young straight couple wearing underwear.

The film aims to be beautiful, romantic and sexy simultaneously. It rains continuously, so how could it possibly miss its mark?

 April 22, 2017  Movie Logs Tagged with:
Jun 142016
 

I wanted to post “At Pegasus” by Terrance Hayes, another poem about dancing in gay bars, but I can’t make the formatting work. So I’m going to just link to it at Poetry Magazine’s site. (Find it here.)

If I figure out how to post the full text here, I will. Until then:

These men know something
   I used to know.

How could I not find them
   beautiful, the way they dive & spill 
      into each other,

the way the dance floor
   takes them,
      wet & holy in its mouth.

 June 14, 2016  Commonplace Book Tagged with: , ,
Jun 142016
 

AT THE OLD PLACE

Joe is restless and so am I, so restless.
Button’s buddy lips frame “L G T TH O P?”
across the bar. “Yes!” I cry, for dancing’s
my soul delight. (Feet! feet!) “Come on!”

Through the streets we skip like swallows.
Howard malingers. (Come on, Howard.) Ashes
malingers. (Come on, J.A.) Dick malingers.
(Come on, Dick.) Alvin darts ahead. (Wait up,
Alvin.) Jack, Earl and Someone don’t come.

Down the dark stairs drifts the steaming cha-
cha-cha. Through the urine and smoke we charge
to the floor. Wrapped in Ashes’ arms I glide.

(It’s heaven!) Button lindys with me. (It’s
heaven!) Joe’s two-steps, too, are incredible,
and then a fast rhumba with Alvin, like skipping
on toothpicks. And the interminable intermissions,

we have them. Jack, Earl and Someone drift
guiltily in. “I knew they were gay
the minute I laid eyes on them!” screams John.
How ashamed they are of us! we hope.

— Frank O’Hara (1955)

(via Andrew Epstein at Locus Solus)

May 152013
 

Love Lies Bleeding (1)

The Beav and I went to see the Alberta Ballet’s Love Lies Bleeding. I know nothing about dance and expected to be left behind by the experience. Instead, I was swept up and ecstatic. Art had happened.

What I took away was the way it was a profoundly non-critical experience. I was present for the dance, attentive to it, and it was only itself. There was no need to to translate it into something else, an idea or a message. The thing was the thing and it was beautiful.

Came home and rented some dance films. Flamenco, Flamenco was good, but Pina and The Rain were extraordinary.

Love Lies Bleeding

 May 15, 2013  Movie Logs, Theatre Logs Tagged with: