"Martha … The 1963 Interview"
Richard Move
New York Live Arts
New York NY
November 19, 2011
By Carol Pardo
Copyright ©2011 by Carol Pardo
On March 31, 1963, Walter Terry, then the dance critic of "The New York Herald Tribune," interviewed Martha Graham on the stage of the 92nd Street Y, long an incubator and safe haven for modern dance. The interview veered from the domestic--Terry informs us that Graham has cooked him eggs-—to the majestic, Graham on Graham, her heroines, the nature of dance and performance. The interview was taped; the tape rediscovered in 2009. From that source material Richard Move has fashioned a reenactment of the interview, with a few twists.
Although the text is spoken almost verbatim, Walter Terry is performed by Lisa Kron while Graham herself is brought to life (not for the first time) by Move himself. In addition, Move is 6 foot 4 (without the bun) to Graham’s 4 foot 11 (idem). Gender bending and a change of scale; what would Graham, who stated "The body never lies," make of that?
Move took Graham’s utterance to heart. Though it would be all too easy to take pot shots at the bun, the heavy make-up, and the oracular utterances of the aging woman who just can’t cede the spotlight, Move didn’t parody the icon. Rather he revealed the vulnerable human being hidden underneath. Sometimes questions went unanswered, but the meanderings to get there had an interest all their own. Genius does that. As the hour-long performance went on, Move receded, leaving Graham in his place.
Lisa Kron caught Terry’s ebullience and hero worship, coming across as a rollicking puppy enamored of his master’s presence, grateful for the least acknowledgement. But the female actress never quite disappeared behind the male critic, a fact confirmed when a segment of the original tape was played, midway through the performance. The fault is not solely Kron’s. Terry is all too human; his is not a personality that consumes a performer. Graham’s is.
Sharing the stage this time out were glimpses of some of Graham’s larger than life heroines, Jocasta, Medea, etc. danced by Katherine Crockett and Catherine Cabeen, current and former members, respectively, of the Graham company. Their presence provided a little kinetic leavening between the talking heads and put Graham’s words into practice in a way that not always visible today. These days, Graham’s heroines all too often look forced, ridiculous, all surface effects rather than bursting forth from within. Here Graham’s words furnished a visceral rhythm that reconnected these iconic women to the human experience. Would that connection have endured had the dancing lasted more than a minute or two? It’s impossible to say. But it did show all too clearly what we and Graham have lost.
