Phoenix Rising
The traditional striped kabuki curtain of black, persimmon and green hangs tattered and faded. It’s our first hint of destruction.
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World-class review of ballet and dance.
On a sultry day like this, it might be easy to imagine we’re somewhere in the south, rather than the urban confines of Hearst Plaza, where a small group has gathered, curious about a free event. We’re not quite sure where to sit. There are café tables, a curving concrete slope that divides the space between a grove of plane trees and a very inviting reflecting pool. For now, we’re directed away from the chairs that face a small stage. As we settle in, some poetry comes through the sound system: “Gather with your folk, that is the medicine; Open your heart to the sky; Drop down, feel your essence, share your essence.” Then Lucianna Padmore takes her place behind a drumset, and Grace Galu Kalambay, picks up a guitar and begins to sing. “We got spells, spells or ways for hot flashes, for the worst cramps, for when you’re not yourself . . .”
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The traditional striped kabuki curtain of black, persimmon and green hangs tattered and faded. It’s our first hint of destruction.
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PlusThis summer, hidden within the red brick warehouses and graffitied construction panels of industrial East Williamsburg, Brooklyn lay a secret garden.
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