Life in NYC

Yes, unrest and unruliness abound in NYC. Still, there is this:

On Friday, the 22nd, Mark Morris Dance Group performed at BAM, set to the music of, get this, Burt Bacharach. Burt Bacharach, someone I when younger eschewed as musak. However folks like Elvis Costello and now Mark Morris see delight in him, and if there is a word for the performance it is delight, as in light, as in clouds moving across the stage, as in a slight brushing of breeze, straight forward lyrics and tinkly music that had me smiling. And who cannot benefit from a smile? I think I heard the lyrics for the first time. Tunes such as The Look of Love, I Say a Little Prayer for You, Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head, I’ll Never Fall in Love Again, and others, set to dancers moving with ease and brought a joy and airiness to the evening. The angst of our times stayed for a few hours. Anything wrong with that?

The heaviness returned on Saturday, where Doug Varone and Dancers, set to the music of Handel in the first part and to the music of Handel and an electronic Handel remixed with a chorale group of a hundred at the back of the stage in the second part, the piece was both disconcerting and exuberant, especially in the second part when the troupe marched synchronously to a driving bass beat that I wanted to throb to. The first part hinted of decay and decadence and discord, the second a dance club.

Then there was Sunday, a music concert held at Corpus Christi Catholic Church near Columbia U, Ballake Sissoko and Derek Gripper, the kora and guitar, riffing to Malian traditional music …

What threads the weekend is the possibility of the transformative and, dare I , the momentarily transcendent?