{"id":146233,"date":"2020-07-17T14:17:10","date_gmt":"2020-07-17T18:17:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=146233"},"modified":"2020-07-24T21:45:00","modified_gmt":"2020-07-25T01:45:00","slug":"staff-picks-punctures-punishers-and-podcasts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2020\/07\/17\/staff-picks-punctures-punishers-and-podcasts\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Punctures, Punishers, and Podcasts"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Film still from Florian Heinzen-Ziob\u2019s Dancing at Dusk\u2014A Moment with Pina Bausch\u2019s \u201cThe Rite of Spring.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0\u00a9 polyphem Filmproduktion.<\/p><\/div>\n

In March, a formidable troupe of thirty-eight dancers from fourteen African countries was preparing for a world tour of Pina Bausch\u2019s 1975 The Rite of Spring<\/em>. The pandemic interrupted plans for international travel just before their opening night in Dakar. But the group nevertheless made the best of the situation, moving operations to a neighboring beach for a final run-through before cameras. The result: Dancing at Dusk<\/em><\/a>, a thirty-nine-minute dance film available on Vimeo<\/a> through July. Bausch\u2019s Dionysian choreography, with its invigorating and relentless rhythms, unearths dark truths about human relationships and suffering\u2014themes only intensified by the prelockdown timing of the performance. While the entire ballet is an athletic feat, Anique Ayiboe\u2019s performance as \u201cthe chosen one\u201d is particularly impressive, her rhythmic convulsions giving body to the tresillos<\/em> and syncopations of Stravinsky\u2019s score. At the end of her solo, she leans forward on a dangerous incline, her arms outstretched. As if pushed by the last spattering of chords, she collapses, and the ballet ends. The sun is nearly set, and a thin sliver of ocean delineates sand from sky. The film crew erupts into slow applause as the tired dancers limp toward one another, laughing and embracing. On the day of this performance, the world, too, was on the precipice of a collapse. But as I watched the dancers embrace, I was reminded that there may yet be some hope, some eventual time for shared recovery. \u2014Elinor Hitt\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

I think that saying \u201cI love history\u201d is a bit like saying \u201cI love art\u201d\u2014a generic \u201cabout me\u201d statement from a college student\u2019s 2005 Facebook profile\u2014but damn it, I do love history, particularly when it\u2019s combined with my favorite art form, fiction. So when the writer Kaitlyn Greenidge says she began writing novels as a way to democratize access to history, I am, as I believe is still said, here for it. When she goes on to talk about exploring absences in the archive through fiction, I am even more emphatically so. Greenidge says all of this and more on the most recent episode of BOMB<\/small><\/em>\u2019s excellent podcast, FUSE<\/em><\/small><\/a>, in conversation with the artist and filmmaker Ja\u2019Tovia Gary. Gary, in turn, describes an approach to film that brings pieces of history directly into contact with the present to probe the idea of inheritance; she mixes footage she shoots herself with archival film, including segments that she alters to make her own by scratching, bleaching, and painting them. The two talk about the work of identifying and unsilencing stories\u2014Gary\u2019s within her family and Greenidge\u2019s from American and Haitian history. Their exchange leaves the listener impatient to experience their works in progress but, in the meantime, inspired. \u2014Jane Breakell<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Still from Disclosure: Trans Lives on Screen<\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

There were so many small things to mourn when the world came crashing to a halt this spring\u2014weddings postponed and trips canceled. Among them, for me, was the ability to see my friend Sam Feder\u2019s documentary Disclosure: Trans Lives on Screen<\/em><\/a> play at the Tribeca Film Festival. Luckily, it\u2019s now on Netflix<\/a>, and it\u2019s perfect viewing for this strange period, when our attention flickers between the television shows that evaporate into our changeless days and the disintegrating country outside our windows. Ostensibly about the history of trans representation in cinema, the documentary, like any unassailable thesis, folds in so much more: questions of race, of the strange yet indelible desire to see people who look like us on screen, and of how the culture we consume shapes our understanding of the world. Anyone who is not a white cis man in this country has taught themselves, perhaps unconsciously, to read between the lines of Hollywood films. In exchange for the chance to see people who look like us, or love like us, experience joy, we have learned to block out the tortured, Hays Code\u2013inspired endings that befall characters who transgress society\u2019s rules. Disclosure<\/em> explores how these transgressions of gender have been coded into moving pictures for as long as the pictures have moved\u2014and how our beliefs and laws have, in turn, been moved by them. One gay friend, after yet another difficult conversation with his conservative mother, sent her a link to Disclosure<\/em> along with the note: \u201cI\u2019m not trans, but I experienced a lot of these same things, and this will help you understand me better.\u201d It is a film that might help all of us understand ourselves better. \u2014Nadja Spiegelman<\/strong><\/p>\n

God, do I love Phoebe Bridgers\u2019s debut album, Stranger in the Alps<\/em>. I fell for it hard when I was working on bringing her into the studio so she could record a piece for the next season of The Paris Review Podcast<\/em> (more on that when \u2026 well, when people are able to gather in places like recording studios again). Then I got deep into her other projects and began eagerly awaiting her second solo record, the just-released Punisher<\/em><\/a>. Here\u2019s the thing: musically, Bridgers is not reinventing the wheel, but it\u2019s a great wheel, and she\u2019s a melodic virtuoso with a songs-of-innocence voice that delivers grown-up songs of experience. Bridgers is, to my ear, among the best contemporary lyricists, keeping company with Ani DiFranco, Richard Buckner, Sufjan Stevens, and her collaborator Conor Oberst, all while looking back toward Joni Mitchell. After about ten listens, I\u2019ve fallen hard for Punisher<\/em>, too, but I\u2019ll admit I was initially put off by the slick production. On Alps<\/em>, every song feels mostly like a person played it in front of a mic; Punisher<\/em> is awash in layers of Pro Tools and keyboards and inarticulable effects. But the same simple, bottomless songwriting is at work. My current favorites are \u201cGarden Song\u201d and \u201cI Know the End\u201d\u2014the first and last tracks\u2014and maybe \u201cHalloween,\u201d a soft, dreamy song about the freedom of disguises. I suppose I would have preferred another record like Alps<\/em>, without the next-big-thing costume on, but Bridgers is a real and profound artist, and I\u2019ll gratefully follow her wherever she\u2019s going. \u2014Craig Morgan Teicher<\/strong><\/p>\n

You sit in the theater, waiting for the play to begin. As the audience grows impatient, an actor appears and announces a delay. They reassure you: the play will begin soon. Five minutes later, \u201cone thousand men\u201d enter and attack the audience. The play is called Intolerance<\/em>. The sequel follows the same pattern, except it is called The French Revolution<\/em>. The tickets \u201care priced at a figure accessible only to a particularly well-to-do class of theater-goers,\u201d and the audience is attacked as they stream out to the lobby, \u201cwhere the usual French Provincial furnishings will be appropriate.\u201d Such are the barbed twists to be found in the knockout Collected Poems of Lorenzo Thomas<\/em><\/a>, edited by Aldon Nielsen and Laura Vrana, which puncture the \u201cpolished surface of civility.\u201d Along with Calvin C. Hernton and Ishmael Reed, Thomas was a young member of the Umbra Workshop, and he straddled, or was claimed by, various avant-gardes: the Black Arts Movement, the Language poets, and the New York School. However, Thomas plays with and confounds his labels; after one of these titles, Harryette Mullen called him \u201cthe definitive poet of the Marvelous Land of Indefinitions.\u201d Thomas is \u201ca collector\u2009\/\u2009Of tones,\u201d and the five hundred pages of his collected poems cover such ground, such range, that I am left with a contradiction of adjectives. These poems ring with the thunder crack of wit and invention. They are \u201ca housecall on a troubled century.\u201d Thomas mocks the veneers of Western literature, of \u201cthinking in strong but well-scrubbed Germanic\u2009\/\u2009Words adopted by romantic conversation \u2026 to counterfeit a long melodious decay\u2009\/\u2009We might call Art or serious concern.\u201d It is dull and violent and cruel, \u201cliving under a weird tradition\u2009\/\u2009of Europe\u2019s stifling conceit,\u201d and Thomas\u2019s restless experimentation and strange shifts embody these disjunctures and come with a \u201cvow to concoct new mythologies\u2009\/\u2009That wouldn\u2019t\u2009\/\u2009Forge us such raw cruelties.\u201d \u201cAncestors do not go away\u2009\/\u2009You say they are here\u2009\/\u2009It is not even a question\u2009\/\u2009Of return,\u201d he writes. \u201cAll silence says music will follow.\u201d \u2014Chris Littlewood<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Lorenzo Thomas, center. Photo courtesy of Kelly Writers House, via Wikimedia Commons (https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by\/2.0).<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 watches a beach performance of \u2018The Rite of Spring,\u2019 reads Lorenzo Thomas, and obesses over Phoebe Bridgers.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[438],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-146233","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nStaff Picks: Punctures, Punishers, and Podcasts by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"The staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 watches a beach performance of \u2018The Rite of Spring,\u2019 reads Lorenzo Thomas, and obesses over Phoebe Bridgers.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" 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