Ken Woolley,
Reviewing the Performance,
Watermark Press, 2010
Stage I. A Detour
-
- Sydney Opera House as apparition for bored commuters
“What’s that thing?”
-A boy points out the Sydney Opera House to his grandmother, overheard on a train crossing the Harbour Bridge, 21 July 2010.
During a recent screening of Rear Window
at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, I became preoccupied by the audience’s reaction. For me,
Rear Window was a “gateway” film, an open door into the beautifully fraudulent world of cinema. I had not seen it for a long time, and watching a good 35mm print with an intelligent audience was a good chance to assess its true impact. In the cinematic canon, if such a thing exists,
Rear Window seems to have come to rest partway along the spectrum between familiar, comforting films, say,
It’s a Wonderful Life or
Gone With the Wind, and perpetually unnerving experiences like, to name two of the blackest noirs I’ve ever seen,
Scarlet Street or
Detour. Films in the former category tend to generate formulaic responses which paper over any disturbing themes, and allow the work to be arranged as part of the cultural furniture. Films from the bad part of town, by contrast, refuse enclosure in a tidy package. Beyond whatever unsavory aspects of human nature they might reveal, these disturbing films demand to be viewed at 1:1 scale, as though for the first time, every time (this is not a simple distinction between
blanc et noir, when
Swing Time screened at the Gallery the week after
Rear Window, any stirrings of featherbed nostalgia among the audience were quickly overcome in the presence of 103 minutes of sublime cinematic bliss).
Rear Window retains characteristics of each extreme. Jimmy Stewart’s voyeurism now seems relatively innocent, at least compared to what people are into these days. The audience reacted to his obsessive nosiness with the same sighing, nostalgic little titters emitted by a gaggle of thirty five year olds watching
The Breakfast Club. At the same time, certain moments of
Rear Window remained shocking, particularly Stewart’s almost brutal coldness to Grace Kelly. Perhaps every classic film might be found somewhere along this imaginary line between Scarlett’s Tara and Ann Savage’s consumptive cough in
Detour.
Begin forwarded message:
From: kitdiva@aol.com
Date: July 31, 2010 11:37:35 PM EDT
To: editor@berkshirereview.net
Subject: Re: question
By the way, although I enjoyed the performance a lot. I thought the brothel scene was surprisingly tame in comparison with Les Huguenots, with its topless crucified nuns, etc. Was Strassberger told to be discreet, or were you aware of any "censorship?"
Nothing of the kind, Michael - as far as I know! I was in that as well, btw. Enjoyed being a raped Protestant noblewoman. Yeehaw!
In fact, several of us whores were actually virtually topless in this production, covered merely by VERY sheer silk tops (or in my case a dress). The lighting I think keeps our breasts from being a large (or small) topic of discussion.... Last years boobs were courtesy of dancers; no singers bared significantly, in contrast to this year.
I'm glad you enjoyed the performance. Thad certainly knows how to put on a stunning multi-sensory display, keeping every pore stimulated. I just wish we could see the damned shows! (Which is why your pix were so important to us...!)
~k.
PS: What year were you at Hahvahd? And which house?
-----Original Message-----
From: Michael Miller <
editor@berkshirereview.net>
To:
kitdiva@aol.com Sent: Sat, Jul 31, 2010 1:05 pm
Subject: Re: question
By the way, although I enjoyed the performance a lot. I thought the brothel scene was surprisingly tame in comparison with Les Huguenots, with its topless crucified nuns, etc. Was Strassberger told to be discreet, or were you aware of any "censorship?"
Best,
M
Michael Miller
Editor/Publisher
The Berkshire Review for the Arts
291 Cole Avenue
Williamstown, Massachusetts
01267
tel. 413.458.2244
mobile: 413.346.3379
Hi ~
I'm a singer in this summer's "Der Ferne Klang" at Bard and my face is wonderfully visible in the top picture you use (of colorfully wigged whores flanking the central heroine) in your review of the work. Is there ANY way I could get an online jpeg copy of that pic at a larger size for my archives. I just want it for ME. I don't have to post it if you prohibit that (if I can post it, I'm happy to put the credits where necessary, too). Thanks for considering my request and getting back to me.
Appreciatively,
~Katharine (Kit) Emory
"The whore with the orange hair".... :-)
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