Artists I admire: Justin Peck

I first read about Justin Peck in a New York Times article a few weeks ago, when one of his new pieces was premiering at New York City Ballet. Peck is a soloist for the company, and he's also their Resident Choreographer. And he's 28.

Peck entered City Ballet's New York Choreographic Institute in 2009 and was identified as a rising young talent. As a result he was asked to choreograph the company's 422nd ballet, and that process became the subject of a documentary called Ballet 422. I watched the film a couple of weeks ago, and it was fascinating and inspiring to watch a young, seemingly unflappable artist maintain control over a process with any number of moving parts (literally), yet somehow continue to behave with dignity, humanity, and tranquility throughout.

There's a moment where a dancer executes a particular movement phrase incorrectly, and Peck asks her to repeat it at least five times. His response after each repeat is simply "No," and then he shows her again until she completes the phrase the way he wants it. As I watched it, I felt uncomfortable for the dancer, as I could sense her frustration and embarrassment that this was happening in a room full of her peers with cameras rolling, and I wondered about Peck's choice to keep making her repeat the phrase. In retrospect, thinking about the moment, I realized two things. First, Peck has every right and a responsibility to ask the dancer to execute the phrase as he wants it. She's being paid to do that. Second, his "No" was never aggressive or condescending or frustrated. Nor was it followed by "that's not right" or "that's wrong."  It was just a "No" followed by more coaching. It made me think about how being direct and simple with an assessment can be valuable. And potentially less threatening or confusing than an overly careful explanation of why something isn't working. I'm very careful sometimes, choosing words and phrases that I think are ways to protect performers, and instead I think that I may be more confusing than clear. Peck was crystal clear in his assessment of the phrase. And the dancer finally executed it correctly as a result of his clarity and coaching.

After Peck sits in the theatre and watches the premiere of his piece, a camera follows him backstage and reveals that he will indeed step back into the role of soloist, a dancer in the company, and perform with some of the dancers who just danced his premiere. It's one of those humbling moments that reminds us that we all put our pants (or tights) on one leg at a time.

For being an extraordinarily gifted dancer and choreographer, for doing it all with precision, grace, and humility, and for showing me that being direct with a performer does not have to be negative, Justin Peck is the artist I admire for this week.

Artists I admire: The actresses of Mad Men

For whatever reason, I arrived late to the Mad Men phenomenon and only recently started watching the show. My partner and I watch an episode whenever we have some time, and after about nine months, we're a few episodes into Season 3.

From my perspective, the show started off slow, but then picked up speed as the seasons have unfolded. I understand that the primary focus of the series is on Don Draper, followed by the story of Peggy Olson, but in my humble opinion, the women of the show make it the most interesting.

Elisabeth Moss (Peggy Olson), January Jones (Betty Draper), and Christina Hendricks (Joan Holloway) have some pretty tough acting tasks to complete in the first two seasons of the show, and that's continuing into Season 3. Specifically, I think of the moments where they show glimmers of vulnerability as they try to navigate the overwhelmingly masculine world of the 1960s, and I can't help but think that they are doing something really special work. Their willingness to buy into the stereotypes of the time period while also fighting against them makes me pay extra special attention to their transformations as actresses. They rise to the challenge each time and leave me wondering what will happen to their characters next.

For playing characters that have taught me lots about maintaining dignity in the face of adversity, for their willingness to reach into very dark and uncomfortable places with their character work, and for lighting up the small screen in very different yet compelling ways, the actresses of Mad Men are the artists I admire for this week.

Artists I admire: The actors and director for A Raisin in the Sun at Brooklyn High School of the Arts

On March 7, I attended the 2nd Annual Shubert Foundation High School Theatre Festival held at the Winter Garden Theatre and presented in collaboration with the New York City Department of Education. Very interesting event. I gained some valuable insights into the plays teachers choose to have their students perform and what the adjudicators of the competition deemed to be the strongest five productions out of the 20 that were viewed for the competition. The evening featured some truly great choices and some curious ones. The event provided lots of teachable moments for me in my classes that week, particularly in my acting class as we talked about type casting and culturally aware casting.

The highlight of the evening for me came when Brooklyn High School of the Arts took the stage with excerpts from their production of A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry directed by Lisanne Shaffer. I teach this play at least once a year in a course at NYU, sometimes more, but I've only seen it once in performance. I think the story of the Younger family has the potential to resonate for people across a variety of communities because it deals very specifically with class differences while also revealing the struggles of an African American family in Chicago in the 1950s.

The scene excerpts performed by these young people illustrated a deep understanding of the stakes for the characters in the play, as well as the struggles caused for the family members by interval and external forces. It is rare in my experience to see young people effectively play age, meaning that when young people play much older than their experience warrants, I often find the performances to feel forced and to lack depth and clarity. Not the case here. These young actors understood the given circumstances and what was at stake for each of the characters in the play, and they calibrated their interactions with one another using very specific choices rather than trafficking in broad stereotypes. I was particularly impressed by the performance of the young woman playing Lena Younger, the matron of the family. Lena's plight is potentially the most difficult for a young actor to understand as the character tries to navigate the different wants and desires of her children while still staying true to her own goal of owning a home and honoring the memory of her late husband. This young actress, Sydney Plaza, is a gifted young performer, and I believed her at every single moment in her journey on stage. She was surrounded by an equally talented group of young people who committed fully to the anger and frustration and sadness required of their characters, and I was quite moved as I watched them invest so deeply in this story and triumph in the final moments of their presentation. I won't forget them or the work of their director, as it truly was a privilege to see this group perform.

For full on commitment to their artistry, for making me gasp more than once as I watched their work on stage, and for bringing Lorraine Hansberry's characters to life through their elegant performances and direction on that Broadway stage on March 7, Sydney Plaza, Marcus Edward, Kiana Gourdine, Imani Alleyne, Jajhanna Gillings, Michael Desmangles, Kiara Mazariegos, and Lisanne Shaffer are the artists that I admire for this week.

Artists I admire: Vera Perez

So I like to think that people can be artists in lots of different ways. To be an artist, a person needs to display a high level of artistry in a particular area, and that might not necessarily be something that we usually associate with the words "artist" or "artistic."  This week's artist I admire falls into that category. She might not consider herself an artist, but based on my definition, she most certainly is. She's been an artist of the highest order in her work as a security guard at NYU. The artist I admire for this week is Vera Perez.

Officer Vera Perez retired this past week from NYU after 27 years of service as a security guard, with 22 of those years being in Pless Hall. My office is located in that building, as is a small black box theatre where we teach and produce plays. Vera worked the late afternoon/evening shift, and she has been at that front desk through it all. Every major weather event, Vera was at her post. Every production we staged and rehearsed in that theatre, Vera was there, graciously allowing us to run over our scheduled time, ribbing us gently when we finally left, but with a twinkle in her eye that let us know that she understood. Vera understood that making theatre takes time and a team effort. She was always part of the team because of that generous spirit of hers, and on top of that, she often came out to support our productions as an audience member.

Vera knew all of the students and all of the students knew her. Her last day happened over Spring Break, as I think she knew it might be easier that way. The students, like all of us, love and respect Vera, because she sends that kind of love and respect out into the world. It was not unusual to see Vera listening carefully to a student in some form of distress and then offering the appropriate and helpful piece of advice to seek out an NYU resource. And it wasn't just students. Vera did that for me and I'm sure many other faculty and staff members as well. She was very kind to both of my partners, and she showed much compassion and care for me when my first partner passed away from cancer. We had only known each a couple of years at that point, but Vera was beyond supportive.

When my colleagues and I had a little send off for Vera last week, it was crystal clear how much of a member of our family she had become. While she is off to new adventures, I sincerely hope that our paths cross again through visits and Facebook and whatever other channels present themselves.

For being a class act from the moment I met her through her last day on the job, for illustrating the artistry of being an amazing security person who can show sensitivity and care while maintaining a safe and secure environment, for understanding how safety and security promote learning, for being part of our artistic team through her generous support, and for being an all around great human being, Vera Perez is the artist I admire this week.

Congratulations, Vera! You will be missed, but we wish you the best of luck with all of your new adventures!

Artists I admire: Susan Marshall

For a number of years, I worked as freelance curriculum consultant for Dance Theater Workshop, now known as New York Live Arts. Over the course of about five seasons, I wrote curriculum for their school time performance series, which brought middle school and high school students to Friday morning showings of dance. My curriculum was used by the teachers to help prepare students to see the performances. Even though I don't have formal training as a dancer, the colleague who hired me to do this work, David Sheingold, used to say that contemporary dance had taken on a hybrid form, and its overlap with theatre made me a strong candidate to write about it.

During that time, I wrote about all sorts of projects created by a variety of choreographs. No work struck me as much or as deeply as Susan Marshall & Company's work, Cloudless (2006). I remember seeing the work for the first time and being completely overwhelmed not only by its power and simplicity, but also by its innate theatricality. I saw the power of shining light and directing focus on seemingly pedestrian movements and natural interactions between people. And how a simple abstraction of those movements and interactions could suddenly create a highly theatrical experience. I brought colleagues and students to see the piece when it was remounted, and I'm certain that it's informed many of my pieces that I've created since seeing it. I spent the last week working on a grant narrative for a new project, and images from this work kept flashing into my mind some ten years later. Cloudless is one of the most influential pieces on my art making, and I owe much to Susan Marshall for creating such a beautiful piece of work.

For showing me something amazing about the capacity of everyday movement, for illustrating what I imagine to be the result of a very collaborative creation process, and for continuing to create new work, Susan Marshall is the artist I admire for this week.