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by Ted Holteen
F unny thing, the weekly news-sheet. I,
like so many children of the 1970s, grew up getting my sports
information from Sports Illustrated, often a week or more after an
event took place. It's hard to imagine in a world dominated by ESPN
and its round-the-clock saturation of stories worthy and otherwise
that once a week used to be enough to catch up on one's sports. An
example? Take the classic 1975 World Series between the Sox and the
Reds. One of the most enduring images in sports is of Red Sox
catcher Carlton Fisk flailing his arms, willing his ball to stay
fair, which it did in that historic Game Six that knotted the
series and forced a seventh game. Newspaper sports writers worked
til dawn to find just the right words that might possibly convey
the drama and emotion felt in Fenway Park that night. But what of
the poor saps at SI? By the time the issue came out filled with the
poetry and images that masterfully captured the magic, the Reds had
already won Game Seven and the series, right in Boston's front
yard. It's sort of like that Jan Brady/middle sister syndrome
Marsha, Marsha, Marsha/Rose, Bench, Foster. Irrelevant excellence,
we'll call it. Not that Jan was excellent, but you get the
idea.
So why do I bring this
up? Well, I wanted to try to express just how special it is that
the Sox this year are fighting back from the impossible, a 3-0
series deficit to the hated Yankees. But as I write, it's only
Tuesday, and by the time you read this the series will be over, and
Sunday and Monday's improbable extra-inning marathons will be old
news, with either history being made or repeating itself in the
meantime. ESPN Classic will air the games before SI or
The Telegraph goes to print. Regardless of the
outcome, %*&@ the Yankees. But I digress. A lot. I had a point
when I started this oh, yeah. As the preeminent arts &
entertainment reporter in the Four Corners, each week, it falls to
me to keep the material current, dare I say relevant, a week or
more after I've written it. Of course, I usually fail miserably and
often piss someone off in the effort. But to stop trying is to
admit defeat, and so I press on.
Sometimes I get lucky. Like last week, I missed the first
weekend of the 3rd Avenue
Dance Co.'s latest
performance, "Crazy." But it's almost as if they planned for my
ineptitude when they came out with their schedule, because I (and
you) get a second chance to see "Crazy" this weekend. If I didn't
know any better, I would say that the 3ADC exists only to remind me
that there's more to the fine arts than just Richard Pryor and "The
Far Side." But these ladies (and a few fortuitously positioned men)
bring a facet of grace and creativity to Durango that, quite
frankly, fills a void. In a town where the bulk of the population
is more likely to possess the ability to gut a 600-pound elk than
even pronounce "Baryshnikov," we need this. I will spare you my
attempt at reviewing a show I've neither seen nor fully understand.
It's a performance of jazz and contemporary dance, and all I can
add to that is that "The Robot" is no longer a contemporary dance.
But I can say that having seen past performances by the 3rd Ave.
folks, these things are really cool, especially if you find
sobriety kind of dull, if you get my meaning. (The lights, man, the
lights!) The wonderful Suzy DiSanto is the lead choreographer, a
very talented lady, mind you, and there are some other numbers put
together by guest choreographers as well. "Crazy" will be performed
on Friday and Saturday nights at the Smiley Auditorium, with show
time somewhere around 7:30 p.m.
Also on Friday night,
the Fort Lewis College Community Concert Hall is at it again.
They're really keeping me busy with this quality schedule thing.
Sort-of bluesman Otis
Taylor takes the
stage Friday at 7 p.m. I've had the opportunity to hear a lot of
Otis' music lately as I do a blues/soul kind of radio show on
Friday nights. Not that I'm getting a free plug or anything, but
you can hear it on KSUT from 8 to 10 p.m. every Friday. How
exciting! Anyway, back to Otis. Not blues in the modern, B.B. King
sense or the blues/rock amalgam that's become so popular i.e.
Stevie Ray Vaughan. Otis' sound is more in line with the
Leadbelly/Robert Johnson sound but with better technology so it
doesn't hurt your ears and sound like it was recorded into a soup
can. Just a man singing the blues honestly and playing the guitar
and making it sound good. Bitching with style, if you
will.
Then, if you can believe
your eyes and ears, there's more dancing on the way next
week. The Aspen Santa
Fe Ballet comes to
town a bit earlier this year, Wednesday, Oct. 27, to be exact.
Usually, they're the ones that do the Nutcracker at the Concert
Hall every year, but who knows, maybe they've all converted to
Judaism or something. If you thought my ignorance was on display
trying to stumble through a description of modern dance, wait'll
you get a load of my grasp of the intricacies of ballet. On second
thought, I'll quit while I'm ahead. To paraphrase the old adage,
"Better to shut the hell up and be thought a fool than to try to
speak intelligently about ballet and remove all doubt." But I'm
sure you'll love it.
Speak and I shall
misinterpret. ted@ksut.org. Next week:
Keeping those pesky trick-or-treaters away, for good.
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