Saturday, December 29, 2007

Sugar Plum Fairies, Inc.

Two Nutcrackers: One traditional, one cracked

By Joy Heller

In a richly decorated ballroom, merry adults gather to toast the holiday season while their impeccably-dressed children dart and swirl to the whoosh of rustling chiffon. This year, the holiday event on everybody’s lips is hosted by the gracious Stahlbaum family.
Held at the elegant Academy of Music, the party is reproduced 25 times each December as the opening scene to George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker, presented by the Pennsylvania Ballet.

Meanwhile, across town from the Stahlbaum’s, eight girls in pajamas wiggle their hips to Cyndi Lauper’s candied credo, “Girls just wanna have fun!” The slumber party is hosted by a perky blonde named Liberty Belle Anne, whose dreams of a holiday sweetheart swell in the Philly-Nutt-Crak-Up, performed by Contempra Dance Theatre that ran in mid-December at the Painted Bride Art Center.

Since its first production by the San Francisco Ballet in 1944, The Nutcracker has cornered the market for classical ballet, capturing the American imagination as a timeless holiday confection. Surpassing darker-themed European imports like Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet in ticket sales, The Nutcracker has become a brand-name for family togetherness and childhood whimsy.
Artistic directors of ballet companies across the country rely on The Nutcracker and its unparalleled ticket sales to bankroll the rest of their seasons.

“You cannot go through the holidays without a Nutcracker,” said Gail Vartanian, artistic director of Contempra Dance Theatre, a small ensemble company based in Wayne, Pa.
Vartanian realized that The Nutcracker as a marketing brand extends well beyond its classical incarnation. This year she directed the fourth production of the Philly-Nutt-Crak-Up, a parody that turns familiar images upside down and replaces them with comic, Philadelphia-style references.

“The big, old classic traditions need to be nudged or kicked forward,” said Sean Whiteman, a Contempra dancer. “Productions like the Philly-Nutt-Crak-Up attract new and younger audiences. What is the average age of a subscriber to the Kimmel Center? Probably somewhere in the 50s.”

But it only takes a single glance at the Academy of Music’s gilded foyer, after an opening weekend performance of the Pennsylvania Ballet’s The Nutcracker, to realize that this production is all about the young ones --and also the young at heart.

“The kids are the actual stars of the show. The second act has the dancing,” said Brooke Honeyford, Public Relations Manager for the Pennsylvania Ballet.

After 20 years, the Pennsylvania Ballet’s The Nutcracker premiered with a shiny new look. The old production had become worn and dingy, Honeyford said. London-based Judanna Lynn designed 192 new costumes, and hand-painted scrims replaced the old wooden sets.

"The dancers had a busy fall, and getting fitted for Nutcracker costumes was something new and special,” Honeyford said.

Technically set in 1830s Germany, the sets combine a mix of architectural influences, including a federal-style building familiar to Philadelphia.

“It’s not historically precise,” Honeyford said. “But there’s a general Victorian aesthetic.”


* * *

On this particular afternoon, Honeyford, with her team of marketing staff, is at the center of the post-performance storm. The last swells of Tchaikovsky have receded, and adult audience members are exiting head down. Not in defeat or mourning, but craning to ask the litte faces attached to their sides, “Did you like it? Wasn’t it splendid?”

Honeyford is overseeing a book signing by children’s author Susan Jeffers, who has just written a picture book called The Nutcracker. Honeyford eyes the boutique table selling Nutcracker memorabilia, and watches as a dancer makes her way through the crowd, posing in a sequined pink tutu for pictures with beaming, awestricken children.

Upstairs, the Academy’s acoustics send the chatter of excited children flying about the stately balllroom, where a kid-topia has been imagined, complete with stations for dress-up, coloring, arts and crafts, and autographs.

Rebecca Azenberg sits behind the autograph table, smiling at the scene through extra long, glue-on performance eyelashes.

“Sure it’s repetitive and corny, but when you see these faces, it makes it worth it,” Azenberg says.

A member of the corps de ballet, Azenberg danced the role of Lead Marzipan, a second act variation, this morning. Lead Marzipan is one of the most technically difficult and least appreciated parts of the show. I always get nervous, Azenberg says.

A woman approaches, daughter in tow, and asks Azenberg, “Is that Martha Chamberlain?”
Chamberlain, an accomplished principal dancer in the company, has danced numerous Sugar Plum Fairies, and is reprising the lead role today.

Azenberg cranes her neck to glimpse the dancer in the pink tutu, who is lightly fingering a wand, smiling and ready for the cameras.

“I don’t think so. I just saw Martha backstage,” Azenberg says.

As the three o’clock curtain nears, Azenberg leaves her autograph post and returns backstage for a company warm-up. The smiling dancer remains in public—she is actually a model hired by the company to pose for shots during weekend performances.

Noise from the arriving crowd crescendos as red-jacketed ushers lead families to their seats.

The lights dim and the red velvet and gold leaf of the theater darken. The audiences hushes as the exuberant Tchaikovsky overture bursts forth from the orchestra pit.

Audience member Barry Cross, seated in the front row, brings his children to the production every year. “It’s becomes a family tradition. My son is an athlete, but I like to provide a contrast,” Cross says.

In the production, the child protagonist, Marie, defends her Nutcracker against an invading army of mice, and is escorted to the Land of Sweets by a regal, yet motherly, Sugar Plum Fairy. Lynn’s costumes dazzle in their intricacy and opulence, and the scrims create handsome family rooms and a pristine wintry wonderland.

The ripples of a harp signal the final performance of the show, a pas de deux danced by the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier, principal dancer James Ihde. In the role, Chamberlain has regal bearing down to a science, and her performance exudes stunning restraint without being emotionally removed. As the rhapsodic score rises, Chamberlain plunges into her partner’s arms. At the final triumphant note, the audience breaks into applause.

Backstage, Chamberlain has shed her tutu and unwound her dark hair from its tight chignon in minutes.

“I’ve learned to simplify my approach a lot. To enjoy myself, and remember who’s in the audience. Not to take it too seriously,” Chamberlain says.

Chamberlain was a member of the company when the last version of the Nutcracker premiered in 1987. Over the years, she has danced countless Nutcrackers with seven different partners.

“We counted my partners backstage today. The feeling of the pas de deux changes with your partner. This is the first time I danced with James because he’s tall and I’m so short. With James, I feel more ladylike,” Chamberlain says. “It’s a completely different kind of nerves with The Nutcracker. Maybe because you’ve danced it so long, there’s the challenge to keep it fresh.”

* * *

Companies like Contempra Dance can’t afford to dabble in a big Balanchine production, so they perform The Nutcracker tongue-in-cheek to draw in the holiday crowds.

“I was tired of Nutcrackers,” Vartanian said. “I wanted a complete alternative, something abstract, crazy, and totally fun.”

“We were called ‘deranged’ by Channel Six’s Gary Papa,” she adds, somewhat proudly.

Hours before curtain for the Philly-Nutt-Crak-Up, volunteer moms set up Contempra Dance sweatshirt displays and bag cookies in the reception area of the Painted Bride Theater. Dozens of kids in makeup and costume thread in and among the busy parents.

Diane Burton takes her young daughter, a Contempra Kisserita and Penn Cherub, to the Pennsylvania Ballet every December.

“The traditional Nutcracker is big and glamorous. This show is dynamic and more intimate, and you can really see the dancers,” Burton said.

“Get the kids out of the theater,” Vartanian says, and she faces her fifteen professional dancers, sprawled out and stretching onstage, to give production notes.

“Is that before or after Kung Fu?” Tim Zimnoch asks. Zimnoch is performing Contempra’s counter-role to the Nutcracker prince, a cheesesteak delivery guy turned Philadelphia superhero.

Curtain time nears and audience members pack the Painted Bride in fashionable coats and evening wear, looking ready for a night at the ballet. The doors to the 250-seat theater open and friends and relatives of dancers hurry in.

The recorded Tchaikovsky overture plays to an empty stage until the Sugar Plum Fairy enters, pretty in a pink tutu.

Suddenly, the Tchaikovsky is cut. The Sugar Plum Fairy, performed by Michelle Wurtz Jones, twists her face into a grimace, lifts up her pointe shoe, and mouths, “My foot hurts!” She puffs on an imaginary cigarette until the music morphs into a string of hip hop beats.

Grabbing a microphone, Wurtz Jones raps, “Some rats they’ll grow, scare you away. But a superhero will save the day. Who is he, only time will tell. And by the way, my name’s Michelle.”
The rapping, smoking Sugar Plum Fairy is one of the few tutu’d characters in the Philly-Nutt-Crak-Up. In Liberty Belle Anne’s bedroom, the mysterious Uncle Franklin Rosselmeyer reveals a set of dancing dolls that would surely throw the Victorian Stahlbaums for a loop. Performing as Princess Leia, one dancer flings a light saber to Star Wars, and a slinkily-dressed Barbie doll gestures manically to Aqua’s enduring pop song “Barbie Girl.”

Act Two opens with adults and children, laden with shopping bags, scurrying about the stage, which has become the King of Prussia Mall. Liberty Belle Anne searches the mall for her holiday superhero. Fortunately for her, it wouldn’t be a Nutcracker without a happy ending. The curtains close as Captain Philadelphia wheels Liberty Belle Anne offstage in a shopping cart, happily ever after.

After the show, dancers spill out into the lobby for a post-performance reception. Vartanian has arranged for catered food from Konak, a nearby Turkish restaurant.

“Sometimes the audience wonders if they’re allowed to laugh, after seeing the classical Nutcracker,” Wurtz Jones says. “But it’s like West Side Story and Romeo and Juliet, you can’t compare the two.”

“My hip hop was strictly unofficial,” says Whiteman, a classically trained ballet dancer who performed as the decidedly non-classical Snow King in the first act. “When I was in Boston Ballet we did 53 performances of The Nutcracker in one year. Alternative Nutcrackers are a necessary break, an artistic safety valve.”

* * *
Back on the Avenue of the Arts, Rebecca Azenberg is still in makeup in the noisy ballroom of the Academy of Music. As she signs programs for kids and chats with their parents, the clock is ticking to her second of 25 Nutcracker performances.

Does she dread the coming of Nutcracker season?

“The Nutcracker is an opportunity to be in the theater, and the theater is where I want to be,” Azenberg says.
Then she giggles and adds, “Our last performance, on New Year’s, is our chance to mess it up. Look for mice in the second act, and the orchestra might play something different.”

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Fashionistas Unite!

You have nothing to lose but some tacky chains
By Frankie Dillard
This just in.

Trailing slowly behind race, class and sexuality, a new type of discrimination has arisen. Fashion discrimination.
Dodging a sea of sweatshirts and Birkenstocks, the Bryn Mawr “Fashionista” stands brave, yet alone. She is the victim of a sincere and very apparent disgust for women on Bryn Mawr’s campus who spend extra time on their outward appearances.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, there is a prejudice against women who are “too stylish.”

Reports of hate are on the rise.

Case# 1: One young freshman named Jessica Rizzo, 18, dresses like she walked straight off the runway. She reported walking past a classroom of her peers, and stopping to hear them laugh and snicker about the clothes she wears.

Case #2: Hadley Garretson, 19, a young woman who is known for dressing “preppy” yet takes pride in what she wears, has been asked on numerous occasions, why she doesn’t just “dress normally.”

Case #3: Many people ask Zanny Alter, 21, who exactly she is trying to impress. When she replies that she’s not really dressing up, and her style is how she normally dresses, people often reply with laughter or distorted and confused looks, and usually proceed to call her materialistic.

In order to solve the mystery, we need to answer the real question at hand.

Why are women at a school heralded for its liberal and “non-judgmental” atmosphere, judging others for something as trivial as the way they dress?

This odd discrimination, unique to Bryn Mawr's campus, was cleverly illustrated in a cartoon that sits outside Dean Chuck Heyduk’s door. The cartoon, which was featured in the New Yorker, portrays a young woman glamorously dressed standing in the middle of Merion green, while all the other women are glaring at her as if she was Chewbacca.
The title reads, “The Renascence of Rugged Individualism” and the caption reads, “The Bryn Mawr sophomore who wore a town ensemble and correct accessories on the campus.”

What’s that you say? Maybe the crimes are legitimate if they showed up in the New Yorker?

Well you’re right. Because the real question is not about who has the best clothing or the most fabulous sense of style, it’s about misperception.

Why are students passing judgments on others? Why does the fact that one girl enjoys looking her best for class matter to girl who would rather wear sweatpants? Why is a woman who is simply expressing herself through personal style taunted and accused of materialism?

Finally, why not dress nicely for class?

I mean, why should you roll out of bed looking a wild mess, hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled and go to class at a school where the tuition is well above $45,000 a year? And why should you be taunted for doing so?

Maybe it’s because in high school, the girls who were considered more fashionable were probably the school divas and “mean girls”, while the girls who dressed “normally” weren’t the most popular. There has obviously been some strange role reversal between students who choose to dress up and one’s who don’t. Aren’t the “normal” girls equally as malicious as the nicely dressed ones, now that they are the ones being discriminatory?

Again, does it really matter?

Maybe the women who dress up are simply trying to prevent the evaporation of their personal sense of couture.

At an institution so focused on academics it is very easy to lose yourself. Sometimes, looking good makes you feel good too, and some girls need that extra push.

Besides that, what’s this talk of materialism?

As far as Webster knows, materialism is a devotion to material wealth and possessions at the expense of spiritual or intellectual values.

Nowhere in the definition does it describe a woman expressing her sense of personal style, or a woman spending a little extra time on her wardrobe to boost her self confidence.

As far as I know, I haven’t seen anyone kneeling and praying at the foot of their closet, so I ould say materialism is not the problem

So, why all the hate? Help lower crimes against fashionable people. Start by complimenting your local fashionista. Tell her she looks nice.
It’ll make society a lot easier, not to mention, a little more appealing.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

I Saw It On Facebook


By Daniela Carabello

Put away your mother’s book of social activist strategies. Gone are the days of handmade petitions, picket signs, sit-ins, and bake-sale fundraising. Today’s rallies are taking place on the internet and young adults are becoming increasingly involved.

Facebook.com, a website dedicated to networking among teenage and college-age populations, has become philanthropic. Or so it seems, when it comes to one public health cause.

With Breast Cancer Awareness Month Facebook users aimed to show that the same users responsible for groups such as ‘The Association for Girls in Love with Aging Celebrities’ and ‘Cool Kids with Green iPods Club’ are capable of social consciousness and aim to make the world a better place- one Facebook group at a time.

Groups such as, ‘For Every 1,000 People Who Join, I Will Donate $10 to Fight Breast Cancer’ and groups that encourage users to add pink ribbons to their profiles, are getting more and more popular on Facebook.

A search indicates over 500 groups related to breast-cancer awareness with as many as 795,836 members in the largest group.

Facebook activism has become the activism of the moment and breast cancer awareness is just the latest example. Members are raising money and awareness within networks and across communities for a variety of causes.

It is time efficient- ideal in our increasingly fast-paced world – and it also draws populations that are often deemed apathetic. But, it does have its critics.

Gaby Andiceochea, 21, creator of the satirical group ‘Because Joining a Political Facebook Group Totally Helps a Cause’ says in her Facebook group profile “Really, come off it….Buying your peace of mind by giving away your spare change or your leftovers or joining a few Facebook groups is hardly worthy of admiration.”

So how does one respond to this influx of Facebook groups claiming support of Breast Cancer Awareness? Can members of these groups be taken seriously?

“I think that it makes them feel like they can sleep better at night knowing they have done something, even if it’s joining one group” says Andiceochea. “I don’t think these acts are useless or stupid, but I happen to know they don’t fix anything and are most of the time more for the philanthropist’s benefit.”

Sarah Thomas, 20, a Bryn Mawr College junior, actively sends invitations and encourages her network of friends to add pink ribbons to their Facebook profiles. Recently affected by breast cancer in her family, she participates in the new trend but is also critical of it.

“It’s easy enough to get an event on Facebook- you feel like you’re doing something…but really, are you raising awareness?” she says “Its almost like you’re trying to make yourself look and feel better.”

Tristan Nguyen argues that these groups inform and educate other people and describes Facebook as a “dominoes effect.”

“It’s about getting other people to do the same, if they have enough information to continue to raise awareness” he says.

Nguyen, 26, started a Facebook group called ‘Tristan’s Big Bad Bald for Breast Cancer’ with the goal of raising $2,000 for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. On November 10th, Nguyen shaved his head in an event that invited supporters of the cause to take part in the symbolic gesture and to commemorate his raising over $2,100.

“It depends on how you use it and how seriously people take you,” Nguyen says.

For Nguyen it was the diagnosis of his friend’s mom that made him consider breast cancer for the first time in his life. “At first I didn’t know the impact or the stats of the disease” says Nguyen.

Upon learning about it from her, a light bulb turned on in his head, “Maybe I should do something about this,” Nguyen says, “not just for her, but for the millions of people out there.”

Nguyen is one example of a person who believes there is something to be said for activism that takes advantage of the 54-million active users on the website.

Andicoechea disagrees, “I don’t consider it activism,” she says, “I think the Internet has made people feel like they’re doing more, with less effort.”

Andrew Held, 18, used a Facebook group to post a short film he made for a Breast Cancer Relay for Life at New Market High School in Toronto.
In his film, he asked people who had been directly affected by cancer to tell brief accounts. Held himself lost his mother of breast cancer in 2006 and has other family members who have battled the disease. He feels cancer is seen as a taboo.

“I thought if I showed them cancer is everywhere and that people they know and respect are comfortable with speaking about it then they could be more comfortable about it too,” he explained.

For Held, getting involved in this way counters people’s notions about teenagers. The film was only a piece of his involvement in breast-cancer awareness. Approximately $50,000 was raised at the Relay for Life last year.

Held says “I offered the students a chance to get together, have fun, and really show that we as a demographic care.”

While he acknowledges that many Facebook groups can be half-heartedly joined Held said: “I feel that Facebook can be a stepping stone. It’s a good place to start activism, joining groups and voicing ones opinion. "

But, be added: "If you truly feel strongly enough about an issue then get out and do something about it. Whether you run in a walkathon, organize fundraisers, or volunteer. Every little bit helps.”

Smile! This Will Last Forever

Look at me, me me!

By Pauline Stern

If a picture is worth a thousand words then each member of the Facebook generation is working on a multi-volume autobiography.

Two technological developments - the endless memory space offered to Facebook users, and the fall in the price of digital cameras - are being paired together to produce the photo diary phenomenon.

There are a whole range of photos documenting the lives of each member. But the typical Facebook photo diary is made up mostly of party shots -- photos of the member snapping away with their digital cameras as if they and their friends were at the center of a flurry of paparazzi photographers.

One night of dancing may yield as many as 30 photos. When their ears stop ringing and their voices have recovered from shouting to the music they will have a wealth of photos to immortalize the moment when they were on top of the world.

“Currently there are 370-something tagged photos of me on Facebook,” said Melissa Davis, 20. “Of course there are more photos than that of me on Facebook, but I’ve untagged all the ones that I don’t want people seeing.”

Photos of Facebook members can be posted by either the member or by another user. Luckily, members have the option of “untagging” photos of themselves.

This doesn’t delete the photo. It simply removes their name identifying them in the picture and also removes it from the pages of photos that appear under the “View Photos of Member” button, which is located on the member’s profile page under their profile picture.

Since Facebook is a free service and the memory space allotted to each member is limitless, there is no need for a member to be stingy with posting photos of themselves.

This leads to repetitive photographs, multiple angle shots that read like a series of silent-movie still-frames. The memory of the moment captured flash by flash by flash…

“There is this one funny series of photos of me trying to get my friend and my heads both in the picture,” Said Stephanie Gonzalez, 19. “They show my total lack of hand-eye coordination”

When asked why she posted all the shots instead of selecting the least off-centered of the five she simply replied, “They’re cute, I guess I didn’t really think I needed to edit it down….Here she paused: “You don’t really get the same impression if there is only one photo of the party as opposed to 20.”

Unlike the old days of film, the cost of adding an additional photo or hundred photos on Facebook is zero. The message from Facebook to its users is, ‘go ahead post photos to your heart’s content’; the more the better as far as the company is concerned.

Although these young college-age members seem wasteful with the size of their photo diaries, viewers should not be deceived. The photos that appear are the result of careful self-editing.

The chapters of their photo diaries read like any young-adult’s cover-bound diary used to, with each member playing the role of the main-character in their photo diary world.

“I can’t wait until I’m old and wrinkly and look back at all the photos I took with my friends when I could still pull-off wearing miniskirts and tube-tops,” said. Gabriella Diaz, 19. “Sure my mom has her prom photos and high school year book to remind her of what she was like when she was young. And to prove to me that she wasn’t always a square mom, but I’ll have so many more pictures, hundreds.

"My daughter is going to know her mom was hot stuff.” laughs Gabriella, “or who knows maybe instead I’ll look at them and cringe at my love of leggings and sparkly ballerina flats.”

When Gabriella sits down with her future daughter she might discover things about her 19 year-old-self she never realized when she was 19. Diary entries are funny like that. Created in the passion of the moment -- only to be looked at differently through the lens of time.

That’s why diaries are so great and the photo diaries being created today even more so. They visually show, the joy and angst of youth entering into adulthood. The baby boomers may think they are a well-documented generation but they have nothing on the Facebook generation.

Those photo diaries being created today will forever serve as a reminder to this new generation that once upon a time they were young and hip -- and partied like rock stars.