I went to a dance performance Saturday night. Louise Bedard dance troupe from Montreal. The dance was based (very loosely) on Hannah Hoch’s collage pieces. For the most part it was enjoyable enough. But, like most of the modern dance I have seen recently, it went on too long, far too long. And it could have used a more healthy dose of influence from Hannah Hoch. Her collage work is so fascinating.
As it is dark in the theatre I often nod off somewhere in the middle of these long, repetitive dances I watched my friends watching the performance and no one seemed to be sleeping. But afterwards, one person said he was sleeping with his eyes open. Of course, it was hard to imagine. Although I must say, I do it regularly. It was documented at an early age. Somewhere around six, I remember faking sleep on the living room couch. But my mother said, no, she’s not sleeping, her eyes are closed.
When I lived in New York, I used to go see Merce Cunningham at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. His performances consisted of several pieces, each distinct from the other. Other of the major modern dancers of that time did the same thing. It makes more sense to me. I never fell asleep in those, even with my eyes open. But then, . . .