Friday, September 20, 2024

Adam Kalderon | השחיין (The Swimmer) / 2021

the finish

by Douglas Messerli

 

Adam Kalderon (screenwriter and director) השחיין (The Swimmer) / 2021

 

Erez (Omer Perelman Striks) arrives with his father at an isolated Israeli recreation center, the last of five men who will be trained and compete, under the supervision of the Russian born Dime (Igal Reznik), for the one slot on the Israeli team in the free stroke category of swimming.

     Erez’s father has previously been an Olympic swimmer, and it is clear that he has worked for years to make Erez an Olympic champion. When director Adam Kalderon’s film begins, we have no way of determining what Erez himself thinks of all of this. In a sense, like the other robotized-swimmers, he is focused only on the training regimen and the likelihood of winning. And, indeed, in the first group efforts involving all sorts of experiments in strength, durability, and psychological intimidation Erez seems like a winner.


     Almost from the beginning, in the showers Erez sizes up his competitors—both by their behaviors and by appearance—and perceives that perhaps his only real threat is from Nevo Yassur (Asaf Jonas), a truly beautiful young man who has grown up in London, his father being the Israel Consul General to Great Britain, facts that have awarded him a far greater sense of sophistication and social flexibility than Erez.

     Although Nevo describes having naturally taken to the water at an early age, perhaps we can conjecture it also serving as an alternative to his always busy and missing father—his mother, we later discover, having died when he was young. The blue shimmer of the waves, something Kalderon almost immediately associates with the slim, often nude bodies of the swimmers and their obvious sexual randiness—understandable since these young men have mostly been denied any sexual activity given the demands of focusing on swimming.


      But while the others play the teenage kind of locker room games of pulling away and slapping towels while describing each other as “faggots,” Erez almost immediately sees Nevo in a far different kind of being, not only as his primary competitor but a beauty that in both his body and soul is almost irresistible.

      It is not really clear whether or not Erez has had homosexual feelings for some time or whether there are merely aroused by Nevo. What we recognize is that he has had no time for anything else previously and, likely, never long been out of his parent’s sight.

     To Nevo’s statement of his delight in water, Erez confesses that he hates it, hates the cold, early morning workouts, almost cannot bear the endlessly boring bodily challenges and regimen. And in his statement, we suddenly recognize that he is a young man whose life has been taken away in the attempts to please a demanding father, a sort of fanatic who in his dictatorial manner has robbed his own son’s life from him. Erez will do anything to please his father, but has not fully yet discovered to what kind of behavior he might turn to please himself.


      Deluding himself, perhaps, he imagines that by better getting to know Nevo he can perhaps infiltrate the bodily territory of his competitor in order to discover how to throw him off course. In fact, Erez seems to have fallen so deeply in love with the other boy that he soon doesn’t even know what he is doing, let alone why.

      We’re not sure of whether Nevo shares his sexual feelings or whether he is simply overjoyed to have someone finally paying him attention, but he immediately goes along with the deep friendship wherein the two become nearly inseparable, the pair discovering unguarded corners of the surrounding desert territory in their free moments and, later, one night, in their illegal sharing of a bedroom. But it becomes noticeable to all the others, and particularly to Dime, who warns Erez quite straight-forwardly that his focus must be entirely upon himself and act of swimming. No outside friendships are possible, particularly close relationships. But Dine goes ever further, suggesting that if he observes him “flirting” he will immediately be cut from the training team.

      The two young men, at least at first, do not seem engaged in physical contact. But we quickly begin to realize that psychologically and, speaking in the metaphor of their sport, almost physically they have crossed-over into each other’s lane. Something deeply sexually lurks in the background of their relationship, obvious enough that the others notice it and finally, resenting Erez’s attention to Nevo and control over him, forces them to first tease and finally shun him. If nothing else, we

recognize just how serious the relationship already is when we watch Erez, having stolen Nemo’s swimming suit, masturbating while he holds it up to his face in late night bed.



      Although Dime can find no specific evidence of homosexual activity (presumably what he means by “flirtation”) he senses it, like the others, in the air. And whereas, at first, he clearly promoted Erez as his favorite, backed up by the boy’s father’s friendly visits to the center, he slowly pulls his love and attention away from Erez, torturing and punishing him while clearly now favoring Nevo.

      As critic Elizabeth Weitzman writes summarizes Dime’s behavior in her review in The Wrap:

     

“As Erez and Nevo get closer, Dima’s [set] strict rules seem designed to control not only the athletes, but also the men they’re becoming outside of the pool. Though he has no problem with Nevo fancying female swimmer Maya (May Kurtz), he ruthlessly threatens to cut Erez from the team if he so much as flirts with another guy.”

 

      Clearly to Erez, however, Dime is simply a more brutal version of his own father, and instead of bowing to his strictures, he gradually goes out of control, spying on Nevo and Maya and reporting her as having vomited in his room which, as a sign of illness, gets her removed from the compound.


     Erez begins occasionally showing up a few minutes late to the precisely timed hours of early morning exercises. And he becomes close to the seemingly only human being on Dime’s staff, the elderly but still elegant Paloma (Nadia Kucher). Although, since she was Maya’s trainer, she might have reason to dislike Erez, she clearly sympathizes with his dilemmas, revealing to him at one of their illegal meet-ups that long ago she was Israel’s youngest Olympian, a gymnast. When the still naïve Erez wonders, having been so famous, why isn’t she living in a mansion somewhere and enjoying her life. Her answer is a truth that he, alas, has just now begun to recognize: “Competitive sports are a tragedy for the body. And the soul.”

     In one scene with her, Erez even toys with crossdressing, putting on her childhood gymnast uniform, the two of them laughing as he attempts to imitate the gestural and graceful dismounts of a female gymnast at the very moment that Dime knocks on her door to complain that he is fearful that all his boys are slipping out of his control, suggesting that he might have been better off remaining in Siberia than to attempt to train Israelis.

     Finally, Erez convinces Nevo to spend the night in his room, as they share a hidden marijuana joint. More important, since at this late hour they are no longer allowed into the halls, they each piss in to drinking container until it is full. Jokingly, Nevo suggests he should take a sip, Erez asking what will he give him. When Nevo, after a pause, makes the offer if he drinks it, and of whatever he wants, it appears that Erez might willing drink it. Later, hey both masturbate together, but in separate beds, and finally turning away, while still making their desires of joining one another quite apparent.


      They both arrive late to the next morning’s session, for which Dime punishes the entire team, forcing them, fully clothed to jump into the water, and to pull themselves out and do various calisthenics again and again.

   For the pre-competition run, Erez shows up having peroxided his red hair, Dime threatening to cut him even from the competition and demanding he shave it all off.


      As is customary, for the final swimming competition, the swimmers are forced to take a blade to remove every last hair on their legs, asses, and, presumably, even their pubic region. Nevo has never gone through the process, and some time earlier Erez has offered to shave him, if he desires.

      Still smarting from his friend’s behavior, Nemo attempts it by himself, but when he finds it nearly impossible to rub on the soapy lotion and pull the razor across his body parts, he asks Erez if he is still willing to undertake the act.

     Their session ends with the crotch, with Erez clearly finally willing to make the final leap in an empty pool—the opposite direction from which he has been directed by his father and his martinet of a trainer—by reaching toward Nevo’s cock. The tension is palpable as we have no way of knowing whether Nevo will permit it nor not; he seems, in fact, to desire it was well. Yet he pulls away, finally calling Erez what everyone else has, and denying any homosexual desires.



   Erez angrily forces Nevo to leave his room, sitting at the foot of the door in despair, refusing to answer what appear to be Nevo’s gentle knocks to allow him back in. We have no idea whether Nevo wishes to explain his behavior, to justify it, or perhaps has second thoughts about granting his friend his desires. Erez does not grant him any of those outs.

      For his final walk down the hall the day of the competition, a hall that for Perez has almost become a kind of passageway into some psychological horror tale, Erez wears pink sweatpants, further creating enmity among the other swimmers who have already ousted him from their shared showers.

      Quite brilliantly, the director himself, moreover, takes the film where it now wants to go— completely over the top. For the final swimming match each man stands at his mark waiting for the whistle to be followed by their leaps into the pool.


 


      But for the rest of the competition Kalderon has drained the pool, as the swimmers begin a spectacular gay dance number, weaving in and out of lanes as an announcer calls their positions as if it were a horse race. The dancers gather together in circles, wave in and out of line dances, and generally turn the swim meet into a grand Broadway-like musical number.

      According to the announcer, Erez clearly leads as the group approaches the final wall, with Nevo close behind. But amazingly at the very last moment, Erez slows down and Nevo touches his hand to the wall seconds before Erez.

       We imagine what we believe to be the truth, that Erez has given up the match to Nevo and, in the process, feeing himself to discover his own desires instead of allowing others to force him for the rest of his life to be an Olympian competitor. Perhaps there is still time for this young man to uncover who he is, to realize his sexuality, and to explore life.

      Presumably Nevo has now found away to get his father’s attention, at least for a few moments.

      Critics and commentators were particularly negative about the amount of sexual nudity homosexual content, some of them refusing to even identify Erez as a gay man. I realize I may now be almost inured to male nudity and gay sexual subject matter having seen the thousands LGBTQ films I have already watched; but frankly it seemed rather tame to me. How else, moreover, can one convey what is happening in Erez’s previously unsexualized head? Certainly, other Israeli directors such as Amos Guttman and Eythan Fox have been far more transgressive.

      I suspect the fact that Kalderon has taken his gay tale into the previously sacrosanct halls of sports was the reason for some of the consternation. But one might have thought that after Carri Richardson, Campbell Harrison, Nikki Hiltz, and of course Greg Louganis and Tom Daly, along with 823 other Olympians since 1896 who identified as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, pansexual, non-binary, and/or queer, 46 of them in swimming, that this would no longer really be an issue.*

 

*Source: “List of LGBT Olympians and Paralympians,” Wikepedia.

 

Los Angeles, September 20, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

       

John Frankenheimer | Seconds / 1966

reborns

by Douglas Messerli

 

Lewis John Carlino (screenplay, based on the novel by David Ely), John Frankenheimer (director) Seconds / 1966

 

John Frankenheimer’s 1966 film, Seconds, has got to be one of the most surreal and odd films released by a major American film studio (in this case Paramount Pictures). Certainly, the work is rightly characterized, along with The Manchurian Candidate and Seven Days in May, as one of his “paranoia” trilogy, with cinematographer James Wong Howe’s camera whizzing above and below and whirling over and about all characters and objects.

       The story based on David Ely’s novel and adapted by playwright Lewis John Carlino has many of the same elements as Georges Franju’s Eyes without a Face and the later Pedro Almodóvar work The Skin I Live In. Like those two films, Seconds involves a complete transformation of the body, in this case through an underground organization run by a disreputable doctor, an Old Man (Will Geer), and a Mr. Ruby (Jeff Corey), who seek out unhappy beings ready to shed their former lives and identities.


       Arthur Hamilton (John Randolph) is just such a being. Although he has apparently made it good as a businessman and lives in a lovely home in the Manhattan suburbs with an attractive wife, he is clearly at a mid-life crisis, unable to enjoy anything and no longer interested in having sex with his wife. Randolph plays the role somewhat like a lumpen beast who sweats constantly, a man in a crisis of conscience but who is also desperate to get out of the life he has built up around himself.

       Enter, through a phone call, an old friend, Charlie Evans (Murray Hamilton), who is thought to have died. The phone call, in the dead of night, opens the possibility of a new existence, and Arthur is highly tempted to take up his “dead” friend’s offer. In fact, the first long scene of the film shows us Arthur, taking the train home, being followed by a man who offers him a small piece of paper with an address on it, as if he were being offered entry into heaven.

      Of course, it is a hell for which he sells his soul, as the address he first visits shows us: a man sweating over a pressing iron. The “new” address turns out to be an equally gruesome place, a beef storage firm, whose foreman, addressing him now as Mr. Wilson, transfers him—much like a cow gone to slaughter—to the mysterious organization’s offices, by comparison lush quarters, with a Picasso hanging on the wall.


       After meeting with Mr. Ruby and the Old Man, Arthur signs away his life and hands over $300,000 to be “reborn” through an operation and a highly staged “death.” It’s interesting that the three major “reborns”—actors Greer, Corey, and Randolph—had been blacklisted a decade before this film was released.

       The director must also have a had a great laugh in casting the handsome Rock Hudson as Randolph’s replacement, itself a kind of ironical statement given the fact that Arthur (now Antiochus “Tony” Wilson) had ceased being interested in his wife.

        But even Hudson plays it fairly “straight,” reiterating some of the doubts that Arthur himself had had, and carefully imitating some of Arthur’s body movements and affectations. As outrageous as it appears to discover Hudson playing such a serious science fiction role, the actor gives a rather convincing performance of a man at odds with his own body, fearful, as surely Hudson himself had often been, of giving away the secrets that lie within.


        It’s also fascinating that the “organization” now equips him with a male houseboy to help with his assimilation into his new life. The houseboy keeps suggesting that he might want to give a party for the neighbors near him—obviously others who have had similar transformations.

        Ultimately, Wilson determines to give just such a party, which turns out to be an orgiastic affair where a nude woman begins by stomping grapes, as others, male and female, strip their clothes and join her. I don’t think I have ever seen so much nudity in an American film of the 1960s. When Wilson is finally asked to join them, he does so with complete hesitation, determining that this is not the life he had imagined after all.



       Returning to the doctors to express his doubts and to request yet another identity, he is assured that his concerns will be taken under consideration, but just before he is about to undergo the new operation, he perceives that he will be killed, his body used as a new “catalyst” for yet another customer. The final shot of the film is a drill entering Wilson’s head.

       Although this film was entered in the Cannes Film Festival of 1966, it was booed and the audience laughed. The film did little better on its US release. Yet today, it appears on The National Film Registry, and has gained a cult-like status. The advances in rhinoplasty and body replacement have almost made such a transformation possible and have created implications that almost suggest what was seen at the time as science fiction is now close to reality. And today we can envision Hudson in a different way that audiences might have at the time.

       In the film Hudson’s character, after having expressed a desire to be an artist, is given the chance to paint, only to discover, obviously, that he has little talent and can never put more than a few lines to his canvas, while, in his former life as a banker, he was a genius. The irony of this, particularly working in his later years, after his Douglas Sirk and Doris Day periods, must have struck even Hudson, and it shows, if not in his acting skills, in his darkened, older face. He’s scared, probably, of playing someone that comes so close to the bone: a man hiding out in his own skin.

       Today, we might almost think of this film as Frankenheimer’s most honest film, were it not that his other two “paranoia” movies have struck a new chord in the days of Donald Trump.

       Superficially, this is not a film of gay interest with regard its surface plot—yet it very much is a work of fascination to the LGBTQ community given that two of its actors, Will Greer and Hudson, were gay, and at least three of figures were political outsiders, banned from performing in Hollywood movies. The search for another body to begin a new life outside of the confines of heterosexual normalcy is also clearly a theme of interest, even if in this case the new person was presumed to also have normative heterosexual desires.

 

Los Angeles, March 28, 2018

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (March 2018).

Phillip J. Bartell | Crush / 2020

little differences

by Douglas Messerli

 

Phillip Bartell (screenwriter and director) Crush / 2000 [27 minutes]

 

Perhaps because I grew up around people who used the word to describe everything I most hated, I have basically banned the word “cute” from my personal vocabulary. Yet it was hard watching Phillip J. Bartell’s charming short film of 2000, Crush with that word coming to mind, in the very best of its usual connotations.

     Nearly everything about Crush is cute in some manner. The movie begins with a young preteen girl of 12 Tina (Ema Tuennerman) leafing through her fan magazines in search of pictures of “cute” young musicians and actors she might cut out and post on her walls, presumably one of the major activities of pre-millennium born teens.

      Robbie (Brett Chuckerman), a slight older 16-year-old truly cute teen doing precisely the same thing—although Robbie pastes it into a private note-book, it being far too dangerous to paste on his wall.

      Both choose the same very cute hunk.


    The two soon meet up in a small rural Illinois town where Robbie, who lives in Springfield (Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace, in case you forgot), has been sent to visit in grandmother Brenda (Rengin Altay) until the middle of August. He’s helping her out at the local general store, Royalty’s, where she runs when Tina and her mother enter.

      Tina’s mother suggests that Robbie and her son, Brian, just a year younger, will surely hit it off, particularly if he likes baseball. Robbie and his grandmother are invited to dinner at their house that very evening.

      We can see from the look at Robbie’s face that he has utterly no interest in baseball, and what’s more when we meet the overweight, unhappy slob at the dinner table we recognize that there is no possible way Robbie will take up with Brian. Besides, Robbie plays piano, and Tina plays the flute; mightn’t they work up a duo to perform for the entire gathering someday soon?

      Moreover, Tina enjoys watching a teenage comedy show, High School High, which evidently Robbie regularly watches (or at least did in the past, since it appears that Tina is watching reruns) as well. He’s certainly far more interested in watching TV with Tina than “shooting a round of horse”* with Brian. His grandmother, however, doesn’t have cable.



      Tina is suddenly delighted to have found a live “cute” boy who seems to share so many interests, and she marches off the very next morning the general store to ask him if he might want to come over to play the piano while she practices on her flute. When he is about to pass on her suggestion, she declares she has other “surprises” as well, which means, of course, watching the next episode of the TV show. Soon they are regularly rehearsing together and watching High School High, evaluating which performer is the “cutest.” Tina even buys a notebook to start keeping her own private journal on the suggestion of Robbie.

      And before you know it, she has worked up a very serious pre-teen “crush” on the big town boy, who, himself, can’t keep his eyes off of local boy Tim (West Mueller).

        The viewer is just waiting for reality to set it, which it does one day as Tina speeds past Robbie on the street, knocking his journal to the sidewalk, its open pages revealing the boys he’s pasted inside. “I like boys,” he finally admits, she gasping, “You’re gay?” She’s hurt of course, but even more upset because their TV days and flute-playing concerts are now over, as Robbie refuses any further contact.


       But the willful Tina doesn’t easily give up. She even looks up “homosexuality” on the internet, causing her mean-headed brother Brian to declare to his parents that she’s a lesbian.

       When Robbie continues to brush her off, she “accidently” meets up with him in a park where he is watching Tim and others play football. She reports that Tim plays the flute with her in church, which surely heartens Robbie. And smart cookie that she is, Tina soon after arranges a meet up with Tim and Robbie at her house, playing the perfect “hostess” as she serves “rum and coke” drinks, carefully arranging for the boys to get to know one on her couch, and finally insisting that they all play “Truth or Dare,” in which neither of the boys want to participate. But even here her ideas are definitely those of a child: “I dare you to drink this full bottle of Vodka,” or “I dare you to pretend you are Martian.”

     In a free moment together while Tim goes to the bathroom, Robbie pleads to know “What’s going on,” Tina finally admitting that she wanted them to meet. “I think he’s a little [she drops her hand, as if the age-old queer stereotype] and I saw you looking at him in the park.”

     When Tim returns, Robbie seeks the truth about how many people (other than relatives) that he

has kissed (3 and 1/2, the fraction never explained), and Tim dares Tina, if she’s begun to wear a bra, to go into the bathroom and return with her bra on the outside of her dress, all of which gives the boys to talk alone for the first time.

      And strangely, after daring Tim to do a strip-tease (shirt only in this case), all of them get into the party mode, as dancing to “Getting Lucky Tonight,” only to be interrupted by a total freaked- out Brian who returns unexpectedly.


       Yet as the two boys head off home, Tim suddenly grabs Robbie and gives him a long kiss. Tina’s bet has worked after all.

       The film ends with Robbie and Tim planning an auto trip, and Robbie telling the rather crestfallen Tina that another young boy, Casey, has told him that he really likes her, forcing Tina to look at the boy who keeps asking her to join in the football game, quite differently.

      Now wasn’t that a cute movie? Even grandmothers surely can’t complain about these sweet hometown boys who just happen to be in love. Perhaps only mean teens like Brian wouldn’t see this film to be as American as apple pie, but even he seems more amused than angry when he imagines that his sister is, as would put it, “a les.”

       In an odd way, this is simply a safer, slightly more homogenized view of the All-American family with its various little “differences,” that we observe in John Water’s Pecker, of only two years before.

     

*Horse, is a basketball game where a player can shoot for a basket from anywhere he chooses, and if he makes it, the second must stand in the same spot, etc.

 

Los Angeles, September 20, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (September 2024).

Nadia Hallgren | Death / 2021 [Filmed concert by LAOpera]

sudden a vista peeps

by Douglas Messerli

 

Tyshawn Sorey (composer, based on a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar), Nadia Hallgren (director)

Death / 2021 [Filmed concert by LAOpera]

 

Already this year, with the quarantine having still closed the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion and other performance centers, LAOpera presented an on-line digital performance of a new composition by composer Tyshawn Sorey featuring poet Paul Laurence Dunbar’s poem “Death.” The composition was performed by mezzo-soprano Amanda Lynn Bottoms. The work as a whole consisted of three parts in the short film directed by Nadia Hallgren, premiering on February 19th, 2021, the date I watched it.

     The first part, titled Act I consists of a reading of the poem by Ariyon Barbare in the Paul Laurence Dunbar House in Dayton, Ohio. Act II is a short discussion of the work and a brief history of Sorey’s early youth playing the piano in a Newark Catholic Church he attended with his aunt. And Art III consists of the song, with musical accompaniment by pianist Howard Watkins, sung by Bottoms.


     Sorley has for many years been known for his wide swath of influences from classical contemporary composers and musicians as various as Karlheinz Stockhausen, Pierre Boulez, John Cage, Morton Feldman, Anthony Braxton (with whom he studied), Cecil Taylor, and younger jazz musicians and ensembles. Alex Ross in The New Yorker has described him as a defiant shape-shifter who straddles both the classical music and jazz worlds.

 

“There is something awesomely confounding about the music of Tyshawn Sorey, the thirty-eight-year-old Newark-born composer, percussionist, pianist, and trombonist. As a critic, I feel obliged to describe what I hear, and description usually begins with categorization. Sorey’s work eludes the pinging radar of genre and style. Is it jazz? New classical music? Composition? Improvisation? Tonal? Atonal? Minimal? Maximal? Each term captures a part of what Sorey does, but far from all of it. At the same time, he is not one of those crossover artists who indiscriminately mash genres together. Even as his music shifts shape, it retains an obdurate purity of voice. T. S. Eliot’s advice seems apt: ‘Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” / Let us go and make our visit.’”


     Known for his highly complex compositions, Death, because of its focus on a poem of a 12 lines, is far simpler in structure and resonance, each stanza beginning in a rather assertive chordal statement before quickly broiling down in minor chords that—as director Hallgren exemplifies in her images of flying and often quarrelling hawks—spin down into darker and jarring dissonants, finding only temporary repose in major chord key respites.

      The poem itself is not only dark, as you might expect from its title, but is odd in its implications.

 

Storm and strife and stress,

Lost in a wilderness,

Groping to find a way,

Forth to the haunts of day

 

Sudden a vista peeps,

Out of the tangled deeps,

Only a point--the ray

But at the end is day.

 

Dark is the dawn and chill,

Daylight is on the hill,

Night is the flitting breath,

Day rides the hills of death.

 

     The poem begins in an almost Dantean manner, the narrator “lost in the wilderness” having suffered the horrors of life, groping to find his way, apparently, to light.

      Yet the rest of the poem does not function in that manner as a “vista peeps,” the narrator spotting “a point, a ray” of possibility. It is not daylight, however, that provides that vision for in the next line we see in the conjunction “But” the alternative, “day,” not evidently what the poet is seeking. The vision of the vista has come in the dark of “dawn and chill,” just before the sun rises. Night provides a “flitting breath,” while death rides the hills of daylight.

      In short, it appears, the narrator prefers the vision he has found in the night as opposed to the daylight when death becomes a far more obvious opponent.

      If, as Sorey seems to argue, this poem has important meaning for our own times, it is not our having been able to move out of the shadows that we have been facing that will help us to go forward and live fully lives, but rather the visions, the beliefs we burnished out of the dark. Visionary revolutions, one might argue, are always spawned in the worst of times rather than in the best. The new vaccines for COVID were created in the very darkest days of world-wide deaths.


      The date for this poem appears to be 1903, four years after Dunbar—who after marrying Alice Ruth Moore in 1898, lived with his wife in the happy whirl of the Washington, D.C. social scene accorded him for his position at the Library of Congress—was diagnosed with tuberculosis. His doctor suggested a move to the better air of Colorado and regular ingestion of whiskey to alleviate the disease’s symptom, which we now know only leads to a further decline in health. For a few years, so Alice noted in her diary, she served joyfully as his nurse, remaining in love. But her husband soon began showing signs of alcoholism and in 1902 he arrived home in a disturbed state of mind, later beating her so severely that she was ill for months after with peritonitis, an infection in connection with the rupture of the abdomen where he had brutally kicked her. She nearly lost in her life in the incident and never returned to their home, without divorcing.*

      By 1903 Dunbar, with the loss of wife and his impending death from TB, accordingly, had plenty of reason to fear the reminders the daylight might show him, an empty house and the daily strife and stress of his illness. In 1904 he moved back to Dayton where his mother lived remaining in her house until his death in 1906. 

     We are now so fortunate to be able to have this work, the third musical setting of this poem, on film. Although, obviously, it would be far better to hear this lied sung by Bottoms in person, I do hope that after the present health crisis the LAOpera company and others who have made similar attempts to reach new audiences will continue to tape and film symphonic and operatic works. I was grateful to be able to share this LAOpera Now production with friends throughout the US.

 

*What isn’t generally discussed in the autobiographies of Paul Laurence Dunbar or even, for that matter, in many of the commentaries of Alice Ruth Moore Dunbar herself is that she was far more than a suffering wife. Having graduated from the teaching program at Straight University (which later became part of Dillard University), Alice first taught school in New Orleans and studied art and music, learning to play the cello before meeting Paul.

     She also was an accomplished poet and short story writer, publishing several collections of work, including Violets and Other Tales. At about the same time, she moved to Boston and soon after New York City where she co-founded at taught at the White Rose Mission, a “home for girls” located in Manhattan’s San Juan Hill neighborhood. During this period, she began a correspondence with Paul Laurence Dunbar.

     As the rather well written Wikipedia entry reports “Their correspondence revealed tensions about the sexual freedoms of men and women. Before their marriage, Paul told Alice that she kept him from "yielding to temptations," a reference to sexual liaisons. In a letter from March 6, 1896, Paul may have attempted to instigate jealousy in Alice by talking about a woman he had met in Paris. However, Alice failed to respond to these attempts and continued to maintain an emotional distance from Paul. In 1898, after corresponding for a few years, Alice moved to Washington, D.C. to join Paul Laurence Dunbar and they secretly eloped in 1898.”

 


     As noted above, their relationship was a difficult one due to Dunbar’s alcoholism and depression. What didn’t get expressed above is that before their marriage, Paul had raped Alice while drunk. She confirmed this to Dunbar’s early biographer: “He came home night in a beastly condition. I went to help him to bed—and he behaved as your informant said, disgracefully.”

     His 1902 beating of her also may have been the result of Alice’s several lesbian affairs. After their divorce, Alice moved to Wilmington, Delaware, teaching at Howard High School for more than decade as well as at the State College for Colored Students (later Delaware State University) and at Hampton Institute during the summers.

     In 1916 she married poet and civil rights activist Robert J. Nelson, working with him to publish the play Masterpieces of Negro Experience (1914). Despite her marriage, Alice continued to have sexual relationships with several women, including the principal of Howard High School, Edwina Krusel and the black activist Fay Jackson Robinson.

     During the 1920s and 1930s, Alice, while continuing the write stories and poetry, became an even more fervent activist for African American and women’s rights. As the Wikipedia entry recounts:

 

“In 1914, she co-founded the Equal Suffrage Study Club, and in 1915, she was a field organizer for the Middle Atlantic states for the women's suffrage movement. In 1918, she was field representative for the Woman's Committee of the Council of Defense. In 1924, Dunbar-Nelson campaigned for the passage of the Dyer Anti-Lynching Bill, but the Southern Democratic block in Congress defeated it. During this time, Dunbar-Nelson worked in various ways to foster political change.”

 

     Apparently, she was also active the NAACP, cofounding a reform school in Delaware for African American girls, working with the American Friends Inter-Racial Peace Committee, and speaking at rallies against the sentencing of the Scottsboro defendants.

      If this is all ancillary to the concert I describe above, I propose that Alice may ultimately be a far richer subject than her first husband.

      The portrait of Alice above is by Laura Wheeler Waring.

 

Los Angeles, February 20, 2021

Reprinted from USTheater, Opera, and Performance and World Cinema Review (February 2021).

 

My Queer Cinema Index [with former World Cinema Review titles]

Films discussed (listed alphabetically by director) [Former Index to World Cinema Review with new titles incorporated] (You may request any ...