rez Magazine May 2015 - Page 53

emcee valiantly filling time between acts with a script of clever (or not-soclever) comments about the dancers, the club, the audience or whatever may come to mind. True to form, the dances I was, for years, a performer myself. often include nudity. As a producer of Before settling into producing, I evening-long conceptualized works in traveled the country as an itinerant real life, I find the form itself challenartist. Those years on stage made me a ging. At best, individual acts are comgood judge of talent and honesty on pact and concise short stories that give stage. In my job, I audition hundreds of insight into an artist’s soul and leave artists a year, in cities from coast to the audience hungering for more. At coast. Casting is perhaps my strong worst, they resemble a 70s discotheque suit, and I can spot an artist with true gone terribly awry. passion in a heartbeat. (Note: there’s a hundreds of answers to those six questions and hundreds more to the countless questions that invariably follow as I try to interpret art in my life. big difference between a moment and a heartbeat, just as there’s a world of difference between memorizing a poem and learning it by heart.) As the show began, I settled into my seat and watched as a cavalcade of dancers galloped across the stage. Dance in Second Life (or at least the dance that I’ve seen to date) is mostly presented in the form of burlesque – a variety show consisting of several short acts with an I had been invited to the evening’s performance by a dancer, Cyllene (Chrissy Rhiano), who was scheduled to perform near the end of the show. I had met Chrissy several times at a dance club that I frequent. She was always rather quiet and demure, but friendly. She had learned of my work in the arts and, following a few short conversations, I had learned of her involvement in Second Life burlesque, but there was no indication in our early conversa-