Premiered at Stanford in Prosser Studio Theater, May 5-7, 2016
Excerpted at SITI Conservatory Salon, February 24, 2017
In which partners Dante and Audrey examine their mutual love of and relationship to Salinger’s novel, in ways humorous and insightful both.
Photo credit: Frank Chen
Now, as you may know, if you know, the next chunk of the book—well, the beginning of the next “novella,” technically—begins with our pal Zooey in the bathtub on p. 50. This immediately made us consider questions of public nudity in performance, and it caused me to reflect on the numerous times I’ve seen it done—especially during my yearlong paid internship with New York Live Arts, née (formerly) Dance Theater Workshop.
It was my first serious immersion in watching dance, and although I hated the internship—more on that later—I loved the exposure. Not that I mean that literally. But something I had never learned from my rather narrow awareness of performance via theater (musicals, plays like Proof by David Auburn, devised work sometimes made by guest artists at Sarah Lawrence like an adaptation of Ulysses called “Drunkard’s Walk” that was unlike anything I’d seen and was horribly jealous not to have been cast in) —was that nudity in dance is everywhere! So I saw a lot of naked people that year. Sometimes I thought it worked, other times (most times) I was just shocked or distracted or bored or unimpressed: “Great, now I’ve seen that guy’s penis!”