An attempt at a cold read

On this blog I have reviewed movies, TV shows, music, and books … with the occasional foray into cuisine and architecture. One area that has not been covered is dance. Casanova, a ballet by Kenneth Tindall with music by Kerry Muzzey, was a modern ballet I saw with my wife at the Marcus Performing Arts Center. My wife picked it as a mutual birthday present for ourselves. We had a wonderful time.

Unlike other aesthetic productions – movies, TV, books, etc. – I went into the event completely cold. I knew of Casanova, the historical figure. I knew he was quite the lady’s man and, well, he got around. I hadn’t seen the trailer and my biographical knowledge of him was scant at best. (Although I do own the six-volume Willard Trask translation of Casanova’s History of My Life published by the Johns Hopkins University Press. Paperback edition, 1997.)

I have a modicum of knowledge regarding classical ballet. As far as modern ballet is concerned, next to nothing. In terms of cultural criticism, this allowed me, intellectually, to approach Casanova with an entirely open mind. Critical thinking, in this context, was less about metaphorically arming oneself. It involved making oneself vulnerable. (It should be noted, we saw the ballet on November 2^nd, at the height of the incessant barrage of political attack ads and the transphobic fever-dream of the conservative consciousness. Seeing a ballet about a defrocked priest who slept around was a necessary relief.) This deliberate mental and physical vulnerability makes experiencing the ballet an enjoyable experience. I mention “physical” because the ballet was a lived experienced, a gesamtkunstwerk, complete with music, lights, moving bodies, etc.

The moving bodies embraced a multitude of aesthetic traditions, everything from burlesque to athletics. But despite the lowbrow influence, the play was definitely a highbrow experience. (Although how much was the appellation “highbrow” contaminated by the expensive ticket prices? If this was a free performance in a public park, would it still be seen as legitimately highbrow, exclusionary, and elitist?)

Live theater; or, AI as Aesthetic Catastrophe

AI is stupid. There, I said it. Micro-review of Midjourney: “It produces art like Thomas Kinkade on Ambien.” One thing that stands out about Casanova was it was a live theatrical event. It took place over three days and that’s it. Gone. There’s probably some media detritus banging around on YouTube and a photograph. Video clips are useful for those who weren’t there to get an idea of the ballet. But live theater – ballet, musical, etc. – as a lived event is something that cannot be reproduced by AI. (“Hey, Grammarly, rewrite my Nanowrimo novel to read like a sequel to Finnegans Wake.”) But as a lived event, we, the audience, were intimately linked with the performers on stage. We experienced both its realness and its artifice. What we saw was a performance unraveling in real time.

Use AI to cure chronic ailments like, I dunno, asthma or cat allergies, instead of vomiting forth a torrent of eye-scorching mediocre art. Being an artist is hard enough in these challenging times, let alone having to compete with an army of soul-less bots programmed to churn out a hellbroth of aesthetic bile. Also, if one supports art and artists, don’t buy AI art! Show some goddamn taste!