05 November 2013
Hi, peeps. It's time for a little talk. As you may know, I am all up in the Israeli culture. If you give me half the chance I will be sending you Terry Poison links here, suggesting that L-E-V should be part of your 2014-2015 season there. As you also may know, the reason I am this way, that is to say, my gateway drug in my early 20s studying abroad in Tel Aviv was Batsheva. I was totally like, Wow.
So, let's fast forward several years to 2012 to me writing a story about Barak and Tomer Heymann as a journalism student. You with me? Ok. I interview both Heymanns, watch some of their films, do some research, and learn they are doing a film about Ohad Naharin, Batsheva's artistic director. I cannot wait.
Should I make a side trip here to explain Naharin's significance? Awright. Of the American premiere of Naharin’s Virus about ten years ago, New York Times dance critic Anna Kisselgoff wrote: “This is not dancing you will see anywhere else.” This is why I became obsessed with Batsheva in the 1990s. I didn't articulate it thusly the time, but I was done with pretty-pretty dance. Batsheva was not necessarily beautiful or heroic. The dancers' release was neither light, nor beautiful. The work was very demanding, very intense, very disconcerting, even. And I loved it.
So, naturally, I was very excited about the Heymanns' film about Ohad Naharin. I hoped every month their newsletter would announce it had been completed. When I stopped by their office in Tel Aviv this past June I, of course, asked Barak how it was progressing.
Then today on Facebook I see a really awesome announcement about the film. Not the one I was hoping for saying the film about Ohad Naharin was ready for my viewing pleasure. But rather one asking me to give them some money so that film would be ready for my viewing pleasure. I'm like, Ok, that seems fair enough.
And today I contributed to my first ever Kickstarter thingie. I was the first donor! Yay, me! I signed up at the $150 level so I could see my name in the thank-yous.
So, I'd like to ask you to contribute. Whatever amount you can spare. I can't fund this movie on my own. Or I would.