The Chautauqua Symphony Orchestra again played a mighty range — perhaps more rangy than many Tuesday evenings. The orchestra was impressive.
Here is where the artist’s hand meets its surface, as where rubber meets the road.
The pas de deux tradition at Chautauqua has become a highlight demo for the Charlotte Ballet, the long-time resident dance company here, and what a night — oh, what a night it was — with 10 sample experiences by eight choreographers for 12 dancers the Institution is privileged to call neighbors each summer.
This could have been designed as a sexy show. Well, at least provocative. Maybe PG-13.
Sometimes the gap between one tradition, or one era, and another seems just too vast to bridge, to make the connection between the comforts of, say, the familiar older melodies when set against the risks of our moment, in this here and now.
This young man, his name is Cristian Macelaru, put his brand on the Chautauqua Symphony Orchestra Tuesday evening in the Amphitheater. For this was no ordinary New World Symphony they played together, even though there is a world full of the New Worlds now — too many, really, some of them like weeds growing in music videos and advertisements and ever more on the variety of airwaves.
You’ve got to be taken by Jerry Saltz. Give him a microphone and he’ll likely put it aside and wade into the room and talk face-to-right-up-close-and-personal-face with whomever catches his fancy.
Mary Dunleavy, who was the Butterfly Saturday evening, carried the full Amphitheater audience through a launch of anticipation and joy and then shivered down the other side into a gut-wrenching despair and suicide. Not many functions in life have such range, delivered within just a few minutes, but this virtuoso soprano was mother, maenad, lover, child and sage, and it wasn’t only with the well-made words she used, for this was performance — chilling performance.
The view of Turkey in Strohl Art Center is as if at the end of a telescope, condensed close-ups by six women in that crossroad country, six women with six notions, six topic sentences, six ideas. The show then is focused still tighter when squeezed into the intimate Bellowe Family Gallery on the second floor.
Just a tiny show — 20 pictures by 13 artists — and all on paper, small to medium size, no overstatement, no heroics, no shouting. Simply pencil, ink, watercolor on some, pastel, spray paint.