ESSAY // The Provocateur
In a Black Square, No One Can Hear You Dream.
This article contains brief nudity, a hazer, and a wake-up call
by Lincoln Jones
EXCERPT //
“Is there any way you can ameliorate the nudity?”
It was two hours before showtime, and I was in an office high above Los Angeles negotiating with a single woman representing a very large Chinese corporation.
At stake was whether a production of American Contemporary Ballet—my dance company—would be able to perform our show in one of their buildings—which they had already agreed to—and the audience was about to arrive.
We were to perform in a large, vacant, commercial space in their new development downtown. It has always been important to me to put ballet—an art many associate with the past—in spectacular contemporary spaces. I find ballet much more exciting when it’s not framed behind a proscenium—the border you find separating the audience from the dancers in a traditional theater. This alone has caused me a fair bit of trouble, because we essentially have to create theaters where there aren’t supposed to be theaters.
But that’s not the particular trouble I’m referring to. //
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