This morning I woke up in a curfew: From the New Contemporary collection at the Art Institute of Chicago: Andy Warhol. “Little Race Riot,” 1964. The Art Institute of Chicago, Gift of Edlis/Neeson Collection. © 2015 The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc./Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.
As 150 paintings, drawings, engravings, and other oeuvres by Marcel Gromaire (1892 – 1971) ride off into the sunset after successive exhibitions in Séte, Honfleur, and most recently la Piscine (Swimming Pool) in Roubaix, France — many of Gromaire’s explosions of color no doubt returning to languish in the sombre basement of the Modern Art Museum of the city of Paris, which apparently prefers exhibiting contemporary artists no one’s ever heard of to Modern artists more people should know about — we thought we’d give you two last, in our view appropriate for the particular juncture we’re living in the world and in France right now, perspectives from the versatile artist who was as at home writing comics for a satirical magazine as sketching his comrades in the trenches of “the Great War,” conceiving massive public murals and tapestries, penning the first book (in 1925) on painting and the infant art of cinema, illustrating a book of Charles Baudelaire’s “Spleen” poems (you can find it at the Art Institute of Chicago), or infusing buxom bare-breasted babes with splendiferous color, often in hues of bright green, gold, and red. And no matter the subject, Gromaire almost always made sure to include a splotch of sky in the background. ‘Scuse us while we kiss him (in good Franglais) ‘a bean toe’. Top: Marcel Gromaire, “Les bords de la Marne,” 1925. Oil on canvas. Musée d’art moderne de la Ville de Paris. Photo: Eric Emo et Stéphane Piera © ADAGP, Paris, 2019. Bottom: Marcel Gromaire, “|La Guerre,” 1925. Oil on canvas, 130 × 97 cm. Paris, Musée d’Art moderne de la Ville. Photo: Julien Vidal/Parisienne de Photographie. © ADAGP, Paris 2020.
The press packet for the exhibition Marcel Gromaire, l’Elegance de la Force, theoretically on view through Sunday at the Piscine in the Northern French city of Roubaix after earlier runs in Sete and Honfleur, describes the massive fresque “L’Abolition de l’esclavage” (above), commissioned by the State in 1949 to commemorate the 1848 abolition of slavery in France and celebrate its primary government instigator, undersecretary of state Victor Schoelcher (at right) and Marianne, the icon of French democracy (at left), as a ‘humanist’ composition. And yet an even cursory study of the picture, whose original measures 40 square meters, suggests a more nuanced interpretation: the Black (naked) savages liberated by the benevolent white bwanas. I’m of course not calling into question either Marianne or Schoelcher themselves, both laudable, voir heroic and justifiably lionized figures, but specifically questioning the hierarchy in Gromaire’s composition, his depiction of the Black personages (more the men than the women, whose curves and bare breasts are typical to Gromaire women of any color, and about which you won’t find this misogynist complaining, in fact it’s part of the allure for me of the painter who up until now has been my favorite) and their supplicating postures, and thus the painting’s qualifications as ‘humanist.’ This over-simplification — and apportioning of the roles of victim and liberator — is not unique to French artists. Abraham Lincoln was also mythologized (including by Black artists) as the savior of Black people, as if the Civil War were fought only for their freedom. More troubling is that in reality, by 1949, 100 years after their liberation on paper, Blacks were far from free from racialist denigration by French writers and artists (as was also the case in the United States, where the consequences were more lethal) . (I prefer the term ‘racialist’ to ‘racist,’ which implies a malevolent intention which isn’t necessarily always there; I myself was — and am — racialist when it comes to my idea of Black men. I don’t know if I’ll ever rectify this in my heart; all I can do is try to correct it in my deeds and writings.) Already, in 1935, a French film director, Edmond T. Greville, could make a movie (also released in the U.S.) starring Josephine Baker, “Princess Tam-Tam,” which, notwithstanding its American star’s enjoying more civil rights in France than she would have in her native country (let alone not risking being shot in her own home, as was a young Black woman in my former home city Fort Worth, Texas, not too long ago), terminates with Baker, portraying a ‘native’ that the ‘cultivated’ white novelist has ultimately been unable to civilize (for much of the movie he appears to have done so, until he wakes up to realize this was just a dream, and not of the Martin Luther King Jr. variety), smiling approvingly as the monkey she’s let into the Tunisian villa the white man’s left her knocks over a shelf of books and a jackass gobbles up a tome called “Civilization.” (Returning home from a pique-nique on the Ile St. Louis in 2019, in the corridor of the City Hall Metro station I spotted a billboard for a line of lingerie — in which only one of the half-dozen scantily clad models was moderately dark-skinned — announcing “Nous sommes tous Princesse Tam-Tam,” “We are all Princess Tam-Tam.” When I later asked an employee of the brand’s boutique — ironically flanking the entrance to the Montmartre space of the Theatre de la Ville, lately known for presenting a number of dance companies from Africa — the origin of the name, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know.”) In 1957 — eight years after Gromaire’s monumental work was unveiled in the l’Assemblée de l’Union française in the château of Versailles — Léo Malet, the father of the Modern French detective novel, could have his hero PI / narrator Nestor Burma observe, in “Micmac Moche au Boul’Mich’,” part of Malet’s “New Mysteries of Paris” series (later made into a popular television show): “They say that Negros diffuse a particular smell….” In 2006, the Paris Opera Ballet could present, in the august Garnier Palace, a ballet by its former director, Serge Lifar, in which white male dancers covered with black make-up portrayed ‘savages’ leaping about like gorillas. These racial stereotypes — and if anything they were and still are as if not more widespread in the United States, and with much more vehemence in certain states, than in France — are not benign. Far from being ‘humanistic,’ they vehicle a dehumanization of the Black man and woman which ultimately leads to events (because they are depicted as less than fully human) like the recent stalking and murder of a Black man in Georgia and Monday’s murder in Minneapolis of a Black man named George Floyd, whose stifled cries of “I can’t breathe” did not convince a white police officer to take his knee off Floyd’s throat, as three other officers allegedly stood by. (I’m NOT saying the 1949 painting lead to the 2020 slaying, but rather that its one-dimensional depiction of Black people is part of a long, ongoing history by Occidental, white artists and writers of reducing people because of their race which makes it easier to not see them as fully human.) Among the tributes at an impromptu memorial to Floyd deposited on a Minneapolis sidewalk was this handwritten sign: “I’m not black but I see you.” The problem with Marcel Gromaire’s “L’Abolition de l’esclavage” — and which makes it more dehumanizing than ‘humanist’ — is that while he sees the white re-enfranchisers, he doesn’t really see the liberated Black men and women as anything but helpless victims completely reliant on their previous enslavors for their liberation, his one-dimensional depictions ultimately denying them their franchise as fully realized human beings. (To those who would defend Malet by saying that his, or at least his hero-narrator’s, views on Blacks are just a reflection of the times — I say ‘are’ because the novel with that description of Blacks was proudly re-published by Robert Laffont in 1985, with no exculpatory note by editor Francis Lacassin — I would answer with Eugene Sue. In Sue’s “Mysteries of Paris,” written a hundred years earlier and whose title inspired Malet, by far the noblest character is an African-American physician from Louisiana, Dr. Paul, who has a crisis of conscience when the hero, his employer, barbarically orders him to pierce the eyes of the saga’s villain as an alternative to sending him to prison. There are none so blind as those who will not see.) The press pack for the Rubaix exhibition also quotes Gromaire, while he was working in his ‘hangar’ on his ‘great machine,’ as confessing, “I’ll be happy… […] [to] find out if I succeed in revitalizing painting by official commission; let Delacroix protect me!” The invocation is unfortunate; despite the reputation he has for inspiring the original sin of Orientalism, the sketches Delacroix made when he accompanied an official French diplomatic delegation to North Africa in the 1830s were much more respectful than Gromaire’s results here, unafflicted by any Romanticism — negative or positive. What ultimately bothers me in the hierarchy of Gromaire’s composition — and prompts me to dispute the painting’s claim to a great ‘humanism’ — is his perspective: “L’Abolition de l’esclavage” doesn’t so much fete that milestone as canonize the cagers for simply deciding to open up the cage and free those who should never have been enchained in the first place, in the process freeing themselves. Painting credits: Marcel Gromaire, “L’Abolition de l’esclavage (detail),” 1950. Oil on canvas pasted on wood. Commissioned by the State; deposited at the Centre national des arts plastiques in 1991. Photo: A. Loubry – © ADAGP, Paris 2020. George Floyd tribute seen on the website of The Progressive. — Paul Ben-Itzak
PS: Speaking of Delacroix: To make sure it’s absolutely clear that the target of my criticism in the Gromaire painting is not Marianne, but rather the relative importance of the roles the painter assigns to her and to the Black personages in their liberation, I’ve decided to also share a reproduction of Eugene Delacroix’s 1831 painting “Liberty Guiding the People.” Note that here the Marianne-like figure isn’t *liberating* the people, but rather *leading* them; they are active players in their own liberation from oppression.
Eugene Delacroix, “Liberty Guiding the People,” 1831. Oil on canvas. Collection of the Louvre, Paris.
by Emmanuel Demarcy-Mota
Artistic director, Theatre de la Ville, Paris
Translation and Introduction by Paul Ben-Itzak
(Translator/editor’s note: While the Theatre de la Ville furnished the Dance Insider & Arts Voyager with a copy of Emmanuel Demarcy-Mota’s statement in the original French, what follows is a journalistic, and not official, translation, as the English text was not coordinated with the Theatre de la Ville. Demarcy-Mota’s stance here is striking in both a global and historic context. In the first realm, whereas “Dance NYC,” which should get the Bessie award for “Least Effective and Most Out of Touch Arts Lobbying Organization in the United States,” is now making the ludicrous claim that “dancers are necessary workers,” putting them on the same level, essential worker-wise, as health and food workers (exactly the kind of insulated naval-gazing thinking that makes dance be treated less serioiusly in the U.S. than in Europe), EDM has a more global, less self-interested, au-dela de sa propre nombril perspective. And in the historic context, and given that French president Emmanuel Macron has likened the battle against the pandemic to “a war,” it’s no accident that Sarah Bernhardt, in whose former stomping-ground the Theater de la Ville EDM directs is based, turned her own lavish home into a MASH unit during the Prussian siege of Paris of 1870 — herself volunteering as a nurse.)
Five propositions imagined with an ensemble of players from the domains of Health, Culture, Education, and Justice.
Four temporalities whose rhythm has been determined by the epidemic: the confinement, the deconfinement, the coming season and the Day After. Four pillars to put in place: Culture, Health, Education, Justice.
Health has been our absolute priority these past few months. Culture is our absolute priority at this moment that we emerge from confinement.
Our country, certainly attenuated but profoundly modified, has a strong desire to reconstruct itself with a view to creating a different kind of world where the idea of solidarity is at the heart of the debate.
In order for our society to recover its strength, we would like to propose a new model able to bring together the arts, science, and education with, as its corner-stone, the union between health and culture.
We wanted to bring together an ensemble of allies from the fields of health, justice, education, and the arts to create a new space for dialogue and coordinate new actions.
Together we are founding “Tenir Parole” (Keeping our Word), a new alliance of leaders from different realms who share a common desire to stimulate and propel a new approach to imagination.
We will strive for the emergence of new forms of solidarity in relying on our capacity to think together. We will work against frontiers, whether they be of the physical or mental variety or between disciplines or human beings.
We will create a proximity and an amity to traverse this unprecedented period of history together.
“Tenir parole” (Keeping our Word) is a way to infuse power in the imagination, to incarnate a convergence of visions, to stimulate the manifestation of life and give hope.
Rather than allow an uncertain present to be imposed upon us, we want to invent desirable tomorrows. Thus, at the end of this tempest, if we’ve “kept our word,” we will have learned, reflected, exchanged, and created.
One Calendar, Five propositions
The Troupe of the Imaginary
Created during the confinement and engaged amidst poetic and scientific consultations, the troupe brings together at this stage more than 50 people from various horizons: the actors of the Theatre de la Ville troupe, joined by young Italian, Senegalese, Egyptian, Cameroonian, Central-African, Congolese, Taiwanese, and French actors, as well as by scientists associated with the project: the neurosurgeons Carine Karachi and Hayat Belait; the neurology professor David Grabli; biologist Marie-Christine Maurel; biologist and philosopher Georges Chapouthier; physician Kamil Fadel; architect Denis Laming; and astrophysicist Jean Audouze.
Together, we have developed, in order to be able to act from the moment confinement began (March 15 in France), invent alternative ways of creating, maintain a link with the population and combat individual isolation, “poetic and scientific consultations by telephone,” which have already reached nearly 5,000 people across France and beyond.
The consultations have been offered in 15 languages: Seven European languages (French, Greek, English, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and German), six languages spoken on the African continent (Wolof, Beti, Lingala, Sango, Congo, and Pidgin) and also in Arab and Mandarin. “The troupe of the Imaginary” will develop new actions and continue its consultations in the months to come.
Dancers, musicians, and historians, partnering with the Rectorate of Paris, are joining this team beginning May 18 to suggest new forms of consultations.
The European Encounters of May-June
Meetings will be held starting the week of May 18. In rapport with the evolution of the deconfinement, they can be held by distance and bring together the world of culture — public and private — as well as those of health, justice, and education.
The emergence from confinement as a moment to learn together is the occasion to create bridges, to propose a new model which brings people together to co-construct perspectives on a common future. Because ignorance is also a form of confinement and it is through knowledge that we must find the emergency exit that will enable us to escape from asphyxia.
At the hour when we must all construct the 2020s, let us make our theaters the place for a community gathering, the reflection of our social commitments and of our will for esperance. Let us build a new Europe, a Europe of culture but also of sciences, of the environment and of young people.
Open-air artistic propositions beginning in June
The cultural world must now support the care-givers, the care-receivers, the confined. This is the moment to experiment, test, invent.
We will be allying ourselves with the doctors of the Salpêtrière Hospital and with the Rectorate of the City of Paris to initiate the first experiments, artistic manifestations to be held outdoors and in different spaces around Paris. Performances, readings, concerts, testimonials by the caregivers, actions for the sick, film screenings and art installations will be proposed in unexpected places: from the gardens of the Champs-Élysées to those of the Salpêtrière, not forgetting the parks, retirement homes, elementary schools, and high-school courtyards.
These propositions must be geared towards the population in its entirety and inscribe themselves in the continuity of our art education programs and of our commitment to re-inventing a place for the arts in schools.
“The troupe of the Imaginary,” with the ensemble of 50 actors, scientists, dancers, and musicians who constitute it will be fully mobilized from the end of May and throughout the Summer.
The Academy of Health and Culture
In connection with the program “Charter 18XX1 – Turning 18 in the 21st Century,” a new academy centering on health and culture will be launched to work with young people and recreate ties with the experienced of the older members of our society. Encounters around art and science will take place during the month of August, and can be open to the public.
For the first time in its history, the Theatre de la Ville’s spaces will be open all Summer:
* At l’Espace Cardin, in partnership with the doctors of Salpêtrière Hospital, young artists and young care-givers will work to elaborate projects which can be prolonged this fall on themes linked notably to movement: “Normality and abnormality,” “Liberty of movement, Liberty of thought.”
* At the Theatre des Abbesses [in Montmartre] ateliers on the practice of dance and theater will be offered, free and open to the public of all ages. This new project is inscribed in a partnership with the city of Paris and can include European partners, to trace new perspectives together and share our desire for a theater without borders.
* A 2020/21 season of solidarity and re-invention: Today, we need to deconstruct our seasons to be able to reconstruct them in another fashion, in imagining many potential scenarios. Together, we are ready to adapt, to re-invent, to re-assess our different propositions to amplify the occasions for solidarity with the artists, the health milieu, the worlds of education and justice and also our European and African friends and partners.
* Scenario #1 incorporates the obligation for physical social distancing as health regulations evolve, leading us to drastically reduce our capacity to accommodate the public in our theaters.
* Scenario #2 adds to this the absence of all international theater, dance, and music companies outside Europe, the frontiers outside the European member states remaining closed.
* Scenario #3 includes the absence of European as well as extra-European companies, who combined represent more than 50% of the planned programming at the Theatre de la Ville and the city-wide Festival D’Automne between this September and December. Under this scenario, we will only be able to welcome companies situated on the national territory.
Whichever scenario comes to pass, nothing will be, nothing can be, like before. So why not transform these obstacles into a new challenge? After months of strict confinement, we now need to push back the walls, quench our thirst for creation, for bodies and movements, for encounters with the population. We will mobilize artists and those from other disciplines to invent innovative propositions which rely on our capacity to imagine together. Next season we will go into the hospitals, the elementary and middle schools, the high schools, the parks and the gardens, the stadiums if need be.
In the theaters, we will invent unprecedented subterfuges, adapted parcourses and real artistic propositions in dance, in music, and in theater which turn sanitary restrictions into the stipulations for a new imaginary, and we will find the pathways to economic viability. If the virus has felled a number of our fellow citizens, we will take back the edge on the terrains of the imagination and of thought, of sharing and of solidarity.
The Day After
If we have collectively been able to invent new spaces and new forms, to experiment with new ways of being and making, to create dialogues between the ensemble of the arts, the sciences, and different domains of thought and of the economy, we would now attempt to erect new foundations for the future.
It is the moment to consider that this epidemic is also a factor in the acceleration of our choices and of our commitments. Today, we must imagine a Day After which will be comprised of a new reflection on a planet that will be durable and solidary. Today, we need to keep our word.
May 13, 2020
We would like to extend our thanks to all those who have committed themselves with us and to those who will do so in the future.
From the collections of the Museum of Modern Art: Salvador Dali, “The Persistence of Memory,” 1931. Oil on canvas, 9 1/2 x 13″ (24.1 x 33 cm). Given anonymously. © 2004 Salvador Dali, Gala-Salvador Dali Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Photographed by Jonathan Muzikar.
Editor’s note: On this May Day 2020, with Donald Trump abusing the Military Production Act to potentially send workers to their deaths by asserting he has the right to pre-empt state decisions to close the meat-packing plants which are loci for virus contamination (where’s Upton Sinclair when you need him?), and with the governors of Iowa and Nebraska insisting that those who refuse to return to hazardous working conditions will see their unemployment benefits cut off, we thought the moment propitious to revise and share our translated excerpts of Michel Ragon’s “La mémoire des vainçus” (literally, “the memory of the vanquished”), as proof that if the struggle is still not over, the battles of the vanquished are never really in vain. And can still serve as inspiration for the labor and human rights struggles to come. (To read the Paris Tribune / Arts Voyager serialized publication of Michel Ragon’s “Trompe-l’Oeil,” click here. )
“The ideal is when one is able to die for one’s ideas. Politics is when one can live for them.”
— Charles Péguy, cited on frontispiece, “The Book of the Vanquished.”
“Books can also die, but they last longer than men. They get passed on from hand to hand, like the Olympic flame. My friend, my father, my older brother, you have not entirely slid into oblivion, because this book of your life exists.”
— Michel Ragon, Prologue, “The Book of the Vanquished.”
Part One: “The little girl in the fishmongers’ wagon” (1899-1917)
“As for me, I’m just a poor sap! For those of us at the bottom of the heap, there’s nothing but bad breaks in this world and the one beyond. And of course, when we get to Heaven, it’ll be up to us to make sure the thunder-claps work.”
— Georg Büchner, “Woyzeck,” cited on the frontispiece of Part One of “The Book of the Vanquished.”
“Sometimes it’s better to be the vanquished than the victor.”
— Vincent Van Gogh, cited in Lou Brudner’s preface to “Büchner, Complete Works,” published by Le Club Français du livre, Paris, 1955.
Translator’s note: With the exception of Fred and Flora, who may be real, may be fictional, or may be composites, all the personages cited below and in Michel Ragon’s novel are based on real historical figures, notably Paul Delesalle (1870-1948), the Left Bank bookseller. Later adopting the pen name Victor Serge, Victor Kibaltchich (1890-1947) would become a noted Socialist theorist who, like Fred in “The Book of the Vanquished,” eventually broke with the Bolsheviks. Rirette Maîtrejean was his actual companion. Raymond-la-Science, René Valet, and Octave Garnier were real members of the Bonnot Gang, the details of their denouement recounted by Ragon as translated below accurate. For the other personalities evoked, including leading figures in the European Anarcho-Syndicaliste milieu in its heyday, as well as certain events alluded to, I’ve included brief footnotes, as these personalities and events may not be as familiar to an Anglophone audience as to Ragon’s French readers, for whom they represent markers in the national memory, notably the infamous “Bande à Bonnot,” whose exploits still resonate in a contemporary France wracked by youthful alienation and haunted by the terrorism in which this is sometimes manifest.
Every morning the cold awoke the boy at dawn. Long before the street-lanterns dimmed, in the pale gray light he shook off the dust and grime of his hovel at the end of a narrow alley flanking the Saint-Eustache church. Stretching out his limbs like a cat he flicked off the fleas and, like a famished feline, took off in search of nourishment, flairing the aromas wafting down the street. With Les Halles wholesale market coming to life at the same time, it didn’t take long for him to score something hot. The poultry merchants never opened their stalls before debating over a bowl of bouillon, and the boy always received his share. Then he’d skip off, hop-scotching between the trailers loaded with heaps of victuals. Every Friday he’d march up the rue des Petits-Carreaux to meet the fishmongers’ wagons arriving from Dieppe, drawn by the aroma of seaweed and fish-scales surging towards the center of Paris. The sea — this sea which he’d never seen and which he pictured as a catastrophic inundation — cut a swathe through the countryside before it descended from the heights of Montmartre. He could hear the carts approaching from far away, like the rumbling of thunder. The churning of the metallic wagon wheels stirred up a racket fit to raise the dead, amplified by the clippety-clop of the horseshoes. Numbed by the long voyage, enveloped in their thick overcoats, the fishmongers dozed in their wagons, mechanically hanging onto the reigns. The horses knew the way by heart. When the first carriages hit the iron pavilions of the market, the resultant traffic jam and grating of the brakes rose up in a grinding, piercing crescendo that reverberated all the way back up to the Poissonnière quartier. The drivers abruptly started awake, spat out a string of invectives, and righted themselves in their seats. Those farther back had to wait until the first arrivals unloaded their merchandise. The horses pawed the ground and stamped their feet. The majority of the men jumped off their carts to go have a little nip in the bistros just raising their shutters.
On this particular Friday, at the rear of one of the wagons sat a small girl. Her naked legs and bare feet dangled off the edge of the cart, and the boy noticed nothing more than this white skin. He drew near. The girl, her head leaning forward, her face hidden by the tussled blonde hair which fell over her eyes, didn’t see him at first. As for the boy, he only had eyes for those plump swinging gams. By the time he was almost on top of them, he could hear the girl singing out a rhymed ditty. He approached his hand, touching one of her calves.
“Eh, lower the mitts! Why, the nerve!”
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— Paul Ben-Itzak, Editor & Publisher, Dordogne, France
From the Arts Voyager Archives and the 2012 Art Institute of Chicago exhibition: Roy Lichtenstein, “Laocoon.” Copyright Estate of Roy Lichtenstein and courtesy Art Institute of Chicago.
Text by and copyright Paul Ben-Itzak
Art by Ansel Adams, Robert L. Berry, Lou Chapman, James Daugherty, Gustave Caillebotte, Jacob Lawrence, Sylvie Lesgourgues, David Levinthal, Roy Lichtenstein, Sam Peckinpah, Charles M. Russell, Saul Steinberg, Deeling Wendt, & Frank Lloyd Wright
“Mystery Achievement —
Where’s my sandy beach?”
— Chrissie Hynde, The Pretenders
“Who would you be if reality were no obstacle?”
— Diane di Prima
“Il n’y a pas un héros de l’art qui ne soit en même temps, par l’âpre et longue conquête de son moyen d’expression, un héros de la connaissance, un héros humain par le cœur.”
— Eli Faure
SAINT-CYPRIEN (Dordogne), France — I’d been telling Harvey Milk that I’ve spent the past ten years choosing where to live primarily on the basis of my dwindling bank account, as the prospects for a long-form journalist in what Herman Hesse foretold with prescience (in “The Glass Bead Game”) as the Age of the Digest have shrunk to the infinitesimally proscribed dimensions of 140 characters on a hand-sized screen and algae-rhythms predicated on people searching for things they already know about, putting the kibosh on the modus vivendi of my trade — curiosity — and making me more obsolete than Vance Packard’s worse nightmares.
“Maybe you should try it from the other end,” Harvey suggested: “Deciding where you want to live and then figuring out how to make it work,” the man who knew his own life’s work came with a built-in fatwa (assassinated at 48, Harvey had prepared a political testament in which he anticipated that eventuality) thus advising me to stop living to work and work to live.
For the full, lavishly illustrated story, subscribers please e-mail email@example.com . Not yet a Dance Insider / Arts Voyager subscriber? To subscribe for one year for $58 or Euros ($39 or Euros for working performing or visual artists, students, retirees, the unemployed, and teachers), please designate your payment via PayPal to firstname.lastname@example.org , or write us at that address to learn how to pay by check through the mail.