And, finally, Part III

You may be interested to know that when the curtain finally fell on "HELL," there was a question and answer with Emio Greco and Pieter C. Scholten, the joint choreographers.

And I was surprised to find that people were REALLY INTO IT. Even the dowdy old ladies raised their hands and asked pointed questions about the choreographing process, about the varying meaning of nudity for an American audience and a European one, and about the games the artists played with lighting -- who was being viewed and who was viewing? The house lights being on some of the time gave the audience a sense of being watched; you, the dancers, are watching us as we watch you, except you are naked. What does that dynamic signify? What images of Hell are really being put forward? Who is the anonymous shadow, and what does he want?

The choreographers spoke about their work -- Greco is Italian, and his English is good but not perfect. I couldn't understand a word he said. That is to say, I understood all the words he said. But I had no idea what he was saying. I sort of felt like I was back in architecture school, but without the anxiety, as he expounded on how, "the preparation of body and mind, which has to become receptive to deeperlying impulses in ordertobeabletobefaithfultothebody we havedeveloped a toolforsuchapreparation whichisatrajectoryforthebodytotravel throughthatallows ittoreachtheawareness andreceptivityneededtocope withnewinformationandpossibly preexisting movementmaterial."

Right.

In the final analysis, I loved the whole thing.

I can only say that it was exhilarating, rather than frustrating, not to be able to decide whether this "art" was valid or not. I loved it as a sum of its parts, all it's little dissonances and resolutions. People in the audience surprised me with an openness that seemed out of line with their appearances. I loved hearing the Italian speak about nonsense.

S.Wag. liked it, too. He said, "I'm so glad that didn't suck like the show I went to on Tuesday."

Curtain.