Dances of the Georgian Court and Countryside
Many will remember Daniil Simkin for his technically brilliant dancing at American Ballet Theatre. He is now a freelancer and a producer; his latest project, “Sons of Echo,” is an evening of dances made by female choreographers for a quintet of distinguished male dancers: Simkin, the Cuban dazzler Osiel Gouneo, the South African-born Siphesihle November (now at the National Ballet of Canada), Jeffrey Cirio (English National Ballet), and the affable Danish virtuoso Alban Lendorf. “Real Truth” is by the New York City Ballet dancer Tiler Peck, a virtuoso in her own right. The éminence grise here is the minimalist choreographer Lucinda Childs, whose “Notes” is a distillation of her “Notes of Longing,” which premièred last year in the Netherlands.—Marina Harss (Joyce Theatre; Jan. 14-25.)
Post-Rock Opera
“What to Wear,” at BAM.Photograph by Douglas Mason
Unsurprisingly, the late experimental-theatre maven Richard Foreman had a distaste for, as he put it, “normal narrative.” Instead, he preferred to focus on “the depth of the moment.” In 2006, at the REDCAT in Los Angeles, Foreman sank into a series of moments that made up his post-rock opera “What to Wear.” Created with the composer Michael Gordon, “What to Wear” is a wealth of unmoored curiosities, including a giant duck that plays golf and a group of “Madeline X” figures who attempt to answer the titular question. The avant-garde phenomenon returns to the stage, as a part of the Prototype Festival—with a little help from Bang on a Can and St. Vincent. Surrender the normal and feel the depth of the moment.—Jane Bua (BAM; Jan. 15-18.)
Movies
Gus Van Sant’s new drama, “Dead Man’s Wire,” eagerly but superficially details a peculiar real-life spectacle. In 1977, when a small-time Indianapolis businessman named Tony Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgård) blames a mortgage company for his losses on a real-estate venture, he takes the company’s president, Richard Hall (Dacre Montgomery), hostage. Holed up in his own modest apartment, Tony threatens to kill Richard unless the firm offers an apology and financial compensation. Van Sant considers the role of a d.j. (Colman Domingo) and of a TV reporter (Myha’la) in the crisis but, above all, focusses on the gamesmanship of the two antagonists in mortal peril. Unfortunately, the movie lacks a point of view. With Al Pacino as Richard’s domineering father, the company’s real boss.—R.B. (In limited release.)
Pick Three
Jennifer Wilson on cold-weather comforts.
1. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve skied, but I identify as a ski obsessive. I love the slopes primarily as a setting—for everything from marital discord (“Force Majeure”) to celebrity intrigue (Gwyneth Paltrow’s testimony in her Utah ski trial warranted a second Oscar). When I’m not listening to ski podcasts like “Big Stick Energy,” I’m reading “Hard Pack,” an edgy new ski magazine. Pick up Issue 6 for a raunchy short story about a bearskin rug as well as serious reporting about the bacchanalian parties that close out the ski season across the Rocky Mountains. Après ski comes the flood.
2. I can’t see children sledding without being reminded of “A Joke,” the short story by Anton Chekhov that simultaneously captures the terror and the thrill of young love. Little Nadia is afraid to go sledding on the big hill until a neighbor boy pressures her to go with him. Against the howling of the wind, she hears, in a whisper so soft she isn’t sure it’s real, “I love you” (the Russian verb “to love” has an aeolian ooh to it). Once safely at the bottom, Nadia looks at her neighbor turned sledding companion and says, “Let us slide down again.” We’ve all been there, Nadia.
