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Art

Creativity in Process: The Kimbell’s Drawings Show

Seen a Leonardo recently? Or anything by Raphael, Michelangelo, or Rembrandt? Correggio, Titian, Rubens, or Millet?
The Kimbell Art Museum is displaying works by all these artists in its impressive show of 124 Old Master
drawings from the renowned collection of the Fitzwilliam Museum at Cambridge University. But the show is more than a
survey of major artists of the 15th to 19th century – it’s a show about the process of creation itself, revealed
through drawing. The Fitzwilliam collection illustrates the experimental, probing quality inherent in drawings. Many
of the works represent private reflection, works not created to be seen by the public but rather to be used by the
artist in his creative process as he strives to solve problems in design, composition, light and form. And for this
reason many have a freshness and immediacy lost in the paintings that formalized the germ of the idea first
perceived in the drawing.

Drawings present the viewer with a special version of the problem of judg-ing quality. The medium is not prey to
such concealers of quality as color, varnish, and restoration. In the starkness and austerity of this form, we are
given the truest example of the artist’s virtuosity, his ability to create space, form, and light with line.
Drawings must be judged by the quality of line and tone, the surety, subtlety, and sensitivity. They stand alone as
works of art, even when they were never meant to be judged on their own merit. (It was not until the late 17th
century that drawings were valued for their independent stature, not simply as means to an end.) Drawings often
represent part of a whole, a whole we are not privileged to see at the moment. Their approach to visual reality may
be only the vague suggestions of a few pen lines that indicate a composition or mood, as in Salva-tor Rosa’s
Landscape with Christ and St. John the Baptist. Or it may be clearly articulated and polished as in Marco
Ricci’s Rocky Landscape with Penitents. The image may be created through a variety of materials, from ink to
chalks to watercolor and oils, for a drawing is simply defined as a work of art (done by hand) on paper.

The Kimbell show is first and foremost about the perceptions of the artist and his struggle to come to terms with
visual representations of his ideas. We can see Leonardo’s concern for anatomy and structure in his attempt to
portray two horsemen. This same concern is clear in Michelangelo’s sheet with the figure of Christ, where the artist
is also experimenting with the actual position of the hand of the figure as seen in the two small sketches of a left
hand. Or we see Millet working up the structure of a man carrying a log in in his powerfully modeled study. Drawings
often reflect the primary concerns and style of the artist, as in Raphael’s rhythmic red chalk drawing of the Holy
Family, showing his sense of balance and harmony. Correggio’s rendering of the Nativity is filled with the
atmospheric soft touch which pervades his paintings. And Annibale Carracci’s drawing of the Adoration of the
Shepherds possesses all the Baroque majesty and movement of his larger works. Abraham Bloemaert’s dramatic treatment
of light and shade in The Infant Christ in the Arms of St. Simeon in the Temple refleets this artist’s
admiration of Cara-vaggio. Federico Barocci’s A Study for the Figure of the Virgin in a Nativity is an
example of his careful and detailed studies, especially of drapery, for his paintings.

The exhibition gives us a chance to examine artists working in different materials on paper, as in Parmigianino’s
sensitive rendering of a female head in silverpoint and in Degas’ depiction of a landscape in watercolor and oils.
It also allows us to see an artist working with different subject matter and different styles. The best example of
this diversity is Rembrandt, who experimented with different graphic techniques in the over 1,400 drawings that have
survived.

One can compare the austere yet lyrical line in the Holy Family Sleeping, with Angels (c. 1645) with the more
monumental and bolder treatment in Jacob Shown the Blood-Stained Coat of Joseph (c. 1654/5). In vivid
contrast to these is his sensitive landscape Het Mol-entje where the paper itself creates light and
atmosphere. Van Dyck’s stunning portrait of Locas Vorsterman displays his elegant style of portraiture and sensuous
treatment of drapery, while his scene of the Ypres Tower at Rye is an example of his less familiar landscape works.
Rubens’ beautifully modeled study of a man kneeling, seen from behind, is juxtaposed with his quiet landscape. We
can study Watteau’s depiction of Isabella Brant, after Rubens, and then turn to his more characteristic drawings of
A Man Playing a Flute and Two Actors to see his ornamental, elegant use of line combined with a
delicacy of handling. We can compare different artists treating the same subject, such as Lucas Cranach the Elder
and Wolfgang Huber depicting the Crucifixion. Different traditions within the same school are evident. In the French
school the romantic tradition is represented by Delacroix and Prud’hon, while the opposing neoclassical tradition of
pure line is exemplified by Ingres.

Some great draftsmen are not represented in the show, including Durer, Pi-sanello, and Piranesi, and not all schools
are exemplified very fully. The English school is covered by only one drawing. Despite these omissions, the show
conveys the richness and complexity of the form. Like many of the works themselves, the show is interesting in its
own right while it suggests a more extensive context. What we have is enough to keep us coming back for a closer
look into the mind of each of the artists, who made and shaped the history of art, and whose quality is unquestioned
and here undeniable. And in each drawing there is the power of creation. “We are all draftsmen in the eyes of the
Lord,” said Federico Zuccaro, the 16th century Italian artist, “all of us have an inner idea in whatever art or
science we are concerned with, but a transposition of interior design into externalized form is the special gift of
the artist.”

– Louise Teitz

The Art and Craft of Heri Bartscht

Heri Bartscht left Munich 25 years ago, but brought the spirit of its Academy along with him. He works mainly
in wood, stone, and bronze, concentrates on the human figure, and nearly swallows his pipe whenever someone suggests
that discipline inhibits creativity.

“You can’t give a person talent,” he says firmly, “but if talent is there, discipline will free it. When I left the
Academy, I knew how to carve, cast, weld, make mosaics and stained glass, work with practically any material. Now
some parts of my training were overdone, such as learning how to use 90 different wood chisels, but in the end craft
leads to the discovery of form and style.”

And it is this respect for craft and materials that Heri has tried to impart to his students. As a founder of The
Dallas Society for Contemporary Arts and Professor of Fine Arts at the University of Dallas since 1961, he has been
Mr. Chips to an entire generation of sculptors. Not that he has much in common really with that diffident and rather
sentimental figure. He is a forceful and demanding teacher who is less inclined to talk about the romance of an
artist’s life than about some of its bleaker realities.

“Students often start hoping to become Calders and Moores. Fine, provided they also realize that genius is rare and
that there’s no disgrace in becoming an honest artisan. We need more of them, God knows, and they might even make a
decent living.”

As you’d expect, there is nothing glib

Weighty Subject: Heri Bartscht’s Erda demonstrates the sculptor’s skill at creating monumental figures.

or trendy about Heri’s own work. Terms like “traditional” and “representational” describe most of it, including
newer pieces like “Erda,” the Germanic egarth mother, which are more stylized and minimal. He explained the change
by saying that he was going through a “figurative abstractionist” period, then quickly scrapped the phrase for fear
someone might actually use it.

“A part of me could be very happy working abstractly,” he went on, “while another part would complain that I was
betraying my training. I’m not an intui-tive sculptor, you see. I work hard at it and like to feel that I’m in
control of my materials from the start. In abstract art, there are no limitations.”

“Erda” derives much of its strength from this stylistic tension as well as from the sheer weightiness of the subject
itself. Heri has never backed off from powerful themes, and in fact believes that any sculptor worth his chisel
should extend himself by attempting a Daphne and a Moses. There is evidence throughout his studio that he practices
what he preaches.

It was the attraction of dramatic themes, rather than pious zeal, that led him into liturgical art also. In the past
15 years he has designed the interiors and sanctuary appointments of dozens of churches in the Southwest, including
Midway Hill Christian Church and the St. John of Beverly Chapel for the Deaf in Dallas, and feels that he has just
begun to understand its subtleties.

Although Heri concedes that liturgical art has grown dormant lately, following a period of rapid and sometimes
convulsive change, he doesn’t believe that it will ever return to the dull, stereotypical patterns of 20 years ago,
partly because the old antagonisms between artists and church architects have subsided.

“There’s a medieval adage that a sculptor without an architect is like a child without a mother. Well, architects
are discovering that it works the other way too. We’re collaborating now instead of trying to upstage one
another.”

To show me what he meant, he spread photographs of some of his recent work on the floor of his study: a basswood
panel, two stunning bronze portals, stations of the cross that looked like line drawings in space.

We had just begun to talk about them when he got a phone call from one of his students at UD who was having problems
with her kiln.

He motioned to me what to look for while he shouted into the receiver through a cloud of pipe smoke. “Don’t do a
thing until the temperature drops. . . . Open very, very carefully.. . . And remember not to touch anything.”

And when the crisis had passed and we were once again bent over the photographs, Heri added, “A talented student.
She has a lot to learn, of course, but she will learn it.”

– David Dillon

D RECOMMENDS

The Raja of Bansda and his heir apparent sat for this portrait by an unknown photographer back in the 1880’s. Now
they’re on view, through March 27, in the Kimbell Art Museum’s first photography exhibition, The Last Empire:
Victorian Photographs of India.
The show comes to Fort Worth from the Asia House Gallery in New York, where it
received rave reviews for the 127 sensitive photographs of life in India from the late 1840’s to 1910. Momentary
daily occurrences, as well as the pomp of colonial times, are caught with freshness and innocence.

Openings



Dallas Museum of Fine Arts presents the Wise Collection of gold, silver, textiles, and pottery. The east wing
is being turned into an all Pre-Columbian exhibit. Two Centuries of Black American Art, featuring films,
paintings, sculpture, and other exhibits, opens March 30 and continues through May 15. Tue-Sat 10-5, Sun 1-5. Fair
Park/421-4187.

Amon Carter Museum of Western Art, Fort Worth. The Bison in Art: paintings, sculpture, engravings, and
artifacts. Tue-Sat 10-5, Sun 1-5:30. 3501 Camp Bowie Blvd/(817)738-1933.

Kimbell Art Museum. The Last Empire, a photographic panorama of India, runs through March 27.
European Drawings from the Fitzwilliam, a collection of master drawings including Michelangelo, da Vinci,
Rembrandt, and others, will be displayed throughout March. Tue-Sat 10-5, Sun 1-5. 1101 Will Rogers
Rd/(817)332-8451.



GALLERIES



Arthello’s Gallery will show sculpture by Blou Powell and Jerry Nabors By appointment weekdays; 1-6 p.m. Sat
& Sun. 1922 S. Beckley/941-2276.

Carlin Galleries. Fort Worth. Paintings by Luis Eades go on display Mar 20. Mon-Fri 10-5, Sun 2-5:30.
Montgomery at W 7th/(817)738-6921.

Contemporary Gallery. Works by selected artists from North Texas State University. Mon-Sat 10:30-5, and by
appointment. 2425 Cedar Springs/747-0141.

Delahunty Gallery. Donald Lipski and Robert Tie-man are featured artists this month. Tue-Sat 10-6 and by
appointment. 2611 Cedar Springs/744-1346.

D.W. Co-op. Photographs by Debra Hunter show through Mar 10. Linnea Glatt’s mixed media construction will be
displayed Mar 12-31. Ann Staut-berg photographs will also be featured in March. Tue-Sat 11-6. 3305 McKinney
#7/526-3240.

Fairmount Gallery. A one-man show by Robert Stuth Wade, featuring paintings and watercolors using the
encaustic (hot wax) technique. On display Mar 11-Apr 15. 10-5 Mon-Sat 6040 Sherry Ln/369-5636.

Macy Galleries. Ed Blackburn of Fort Worth creates a new show of magazine imagery, unstretched canvas
artwork, and other art. Tue-Sat 11-6. 2605 Routh/742-4587.

Stewart Gallery will present a one-man show by Robert Nidy Mar 5-Apr 4, featuring his works with tempera on
various metallic surfaces. Tue-Sat 10-7 and by appointment. 12610 Coit/661-0213.

2719. Oils and watercolors by Ed Bearden of Dallas,and the Ecuadorian series by Robert Tyler Lee willshow in
March. Tue-Sat 11-5. Sun 2-5. 2719Routh/748-2094.

Theater

Three Sisters and 6 Rms

The plays of Anton Chekhov seem always to have offered directors a wide latitude for misinterpretation. Ever since
Stanislavsky attempted to heighten the realism of an outdoor scene with a chorus of cricket noises, and to increase
the pathos of an offstage death by bringing the body on stage (from both of which he was restrained by Chekhov), his
plays have been approached variously as studies in naturalism, as carefully contrived melodramas, as expressions of
existential anguish, even as satirical farces; and I would not be at all surprised, given recent trends, to hear of
one being adapted as a musical. But it has not been customary to attempt all of these approaches at once; most
directors have been satisfied to stick with a single view of the matter, so that if they are wrong, at least they
are consistently so, and the only question is whether the play makes an agreeable impression on the stage. This was
not the case, however, with the Dallas Theater Center’s production of Three Sisters, in which, for
some darkly inscrutable reason, it seems to have been decided that the safest course is the throwing together of a
little of everything. The question here was not one of agreeableness, but of intelligibility.

To be sure, there is a little of all those styles in this play: naturalism in the evidence of the stultifying effect
which the provincial environment produces on nearly all the characters, melodrama in Natasha’s heartless
dispossession of the three Prozorov sisters and in Tusenbach’s death in a duel, even something approaching
existentialism in the frequent outcries voiced by many of the characters against the pointless suffering in their
lives. But these matters are, for the most part, submerged beneath layers of trivial details; Chekhov once wrote of
the events that make up his plays that “at the same time as people are just having a meal at table, their happiness
is being created or their lives are being smashed up,” but surely the most important thing is that they must appear,
on the surface, merely to be eating dinner. If, for example, Masha is bored by her schoolmaster husband and is half
tempted to fall in love with Colonel Vershinin, then she must indicate her hesitation when, in Act II, he betrays
his affection for her; and if Irina has decided to marry Tusenbach, despite not loving him, because he offers her a
chance to escape her present situation, then she must indicate her anxiety when, in Act IV, he mysteriously tries to
break away from her. But director Ken Latimer chose to inflate such simple matters as these to grandiose
proportions.

Nor did the individual performances display much consistency. Latimer seems to have decided that most of the
characters are intended to be entirely sympathetic (which in fact they are not), so that, for example, in order to
defuse the deep nihilism into which the old doctor Chebutykin has sunk in the last act, Latimer had Ryland Merkey
utter his “it doesn’t matter” and “perhaps we don’t really exist” refrains as the expressions of quaint senility.
Similarly, although Tusenbach is described by various of the other characters as simply ugly, Randolph Tallman
played him with little attempt to disguise his smiling cuteness with make-up, and Ro-byn Flatt had a great deal of
difficult covering her natural charm with the vulgarity and tactlessness required of Natasha. Of the three central
characters, only the highly versatile Norma Moore achieved the proper shadings of expression – making her Irina an
affecting study in the gradual extinguishing of hope.

If the Theater Center’s Three Sisters was an example of diminishing the stature of an original masterpiece,
then the Theatre Onstage production of 6 Rms Riv Vu was more or less the opposite: a lesson in
imparting dignity to a piece of derivative claptrap. The play, by Bob Randall, is one of those things which, by
virtue of having been performed on or near Broadway, is automatically deemed worthy of presentation in the
provinces. Why this practice endures is beyond me, but the productions which, like this one, result from it at least
function to prove that audiences in New York do not necessarily have better taste than those elsewhere.

The situation in this play has been a common one in countless other plays and movies of the last decade: a man and a
woman from two different walks of life meet by some quaint accident, discover that they have something in common,
and proceed to indulge in a carefree, exhilarating affair until some forgotten or ignored aspect of their separate
lives presents itself as a challenge to their enduring happiness together. In this case, Anne Miller and Paul
Friedman meet by being locked into an apartment which they are both thinking of renting, and find that they have in
common, first of all, the fact that each of them is married, but more importantly the fact that they were both
brought up in the repressive Fifties (playwright Randall must be credited with some degree of ingenuity in this
last, for it saved him a good deal of work: fully the first half of their affair consists of Anne and Paul worrying
about whether they should even have an affair). Two or three illicit liaisons intervene in predictable fashion
before the expected conclusion is reached, but along the way Randall managed to evoke at least some of the anxieties
and anticipations that two such people would display, so that the thing can be pulled off with some degree of appeal
if placed in the hands of a careful director and two sensitive performers.

That combination, fortunately, is just what Theatre Onstage had. Director Sharon Drane tended to strive a bit
excessively for comic effects, with the result that the first act often seemed rushed, but most of the interplay
between Anne and Paul was marked by a pleasant, colorful variety of tone. Rod Blaydes played Paul with the charming
manner of a wry humorist, while Mary Durall as Anne achieved something of Carol Burnett’s delightful off-the-cuff
style, and among the minor characters Susan Manskey was hilarious as The Woman in 4A.

The play came off much better than could have been expected in advance, but I am glad to note that, in their next
production, the Theatre Onstage company is turning away from the task of saving undeserving plays (at which this is
at least their second attempt) in favor of something more challenging: Tennessee Williams’s Cat on a Hot Tin
Roof.


– John Branch



Openings

Dallas Theater Center. The musical Something’s Afoot through Apr 2. Tue-Fri 8 p.m., Sat 5 p.m. and
8:30 p.m. Tickets $5.75/$6.50 on weekends. 3636 Turtle Creek/526-8857.

Theatre Three. In Celebration by David Storey begins Mar 4 and runs through Apr 10. Wed-Sat at 8:30
p.m., Sun at 2:30 and 7 p.m. Tickets $5 Wed, Thu, and Sun evenings; $6 Fri & Sat, $4 Sun matinees. 2800 Routh
St/748-5191.

Dallas Repertory Theatre continues Godspell through Mar 20. Fridays and Saturdays, 8:15 p.m., Sundays.
3 p.m. $4.50. NorthPark Hall/369-8966.

Theatre SMU. Guys and Dolls Mar 1-5 and 8-12 at 8:15 p.m., Mar 6 and 13 at 2:15 p.m. in the Bob Hope
Theatre. Tickets $3.50. 692-2573.

University of Texas/Dallas. Frank Loesser’s musical The Most Happy Fella, in conjunction with Temple
Shalom. Mar 12-13 at the Temple; Mar 18-20 at UTD. $3 general/$2 student. 8 p.m., except 5 p.m. Sunday
matinee/690-2982.

Irving Community Theatre stages You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown Mar 4-6 and 11-13. Fri and Sat at 8
p.m., Sun at 3 p m. $3 adults/$2 children. 208 S. Jefferson, Irving/254-7857 or 254-6419.

Scott Theatre/Fort Worth. The Miser will play Mar 22-26 at 8:15 p.m. and Mar 27 at 2:15 p.m
$2.50/$1.50 students. 3505 W Lancaster/817)926-2461.

Fort Worth Community Theatre stages The Cradle Song, by Gregorio and Maria Martines Sierra. Mar 3-5
and 9-12 at 8:15 p.m. and Mar 6 at 2:15 p.m. Tickets $3.50 Fri & Sat. $3 other days. $2 students, all times. 3505 W
Lancaster-(817)738-6509.

New Arts Theatre Co. Hot L Baltimore opens Mar 10. and runs through the first weekend in April.
Thur-Sat at 8 p.m.; Sun at 2:15 p.m. $4; $1 50 students. Olla Podrida, 12215 Coit Rd/387-0807.



CHILDREN’S THEATER



Magic Turtle Series. The Tale of the Mouse every Saturday at 10:30 a.m. through Mar 19. Tickets $1.75.
Dallas Theatre Center, 3636 Turtle Creek/526-8857.

Junior Players Guild performs You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown at Ewell Walker Middle School Mar 19.
20. 26, & 27 at 3 p.m. $1 50. 12532 Nuestra Dr/358-3756 or 363-3922.

Casa Manana presents The Mother Goose Revue Mar 5, 12 & 19 at 2 p.m. and Mar 11 and 18 at 7:30p.m. $3
adutts/$2children/(817)332-6221.

Books

The Liberation of Christopher Isherwood

Christopher Isherwood is best known for his chronicle of Nazi Germany in the Thirties, Berlin Stories, which
was reborn as John van Druten’s I Am a Camera, play and movie, and reborn yet again as Cabaret, play
and movie. He is less recognized than he deserves to be: his novels alone, including the stunning A Single Man
and Down There on a Visit, place him in the highest rank of those Anglo-American novelists who followed
in the wake of the great modernists, Joyce, Lawrence and Faulkner. Now 72 and an American resident since 1939,
Isherwood has steadily accumulated an oeuvre which more than repays the claims of his earliest reviewers who
saw in him the hope of English letters.

Christopher and His Kind (Farrar, Straus, Giroux, $10) is a splendid reexa-mination of an important decade in
Isherwood’s life, from his first visit to Berlin in 1929 to his entry into New York harbor, the poet W.H. Auden at
his side, in 1939.

Ever since Wordsworth withheld publication of his poetic autobiography, The Prelude, saying “it is a thing
unprecedented in literary history that a man should talk so much about himself,” autobiographical literature has had

as its limits thé need for confession and exposure, and the opposing anxiety of revelation resulting from fear,
natural reticence or good manners. It has been customary for writers to mask these anxieties, as men as different as
Henry Adams and Norman Mailer have done, by defining themselves as third person heroes whose lives and feelings seem
to be more or less objectively reported by the narrator. Christopher and His Kind is a memoir in which the
author neither fudges nor withholds nor exaggerates. It is an important achievement in at least three distinct
ways.

First of all, it is a fascinating historical and cultural view of the decade in which Europe sank gradually to war
as Hitler rose, not always unswervingly, to power; in which Berlin was the capital of decadence on the continent
because “Paris had long since cornered the straight girl-market, so what was left for; Berlin to offer its visitors
but a mas-querade of perversions?”; and in which a generation of artists and intellectuals, unscathed by the
catastrophe of the first war which ruined their parents’ generation, came to maturity in a moral and philosophical
vacuum, where conflicting political ideologies all seemed momentarily attractive and then permanently feckless and
stupid.

Second, as a distinctive contribution to the genre of autobiography, Christopher and His Kind explores with
good sense, intelligence, and considerable charm, the difficulty of remembering, let alone recapturing, the past.
This explains Isherwood’s narrative strategy, never as irksome as Mailer’s (perhaps because Isherwood is a more
humane figure), of referring to himself as “Christopher,” not from false modesty, but from the simple realization
that even though continuity shapes a life, as it shapes an art, he is not now entirely the same person he was 40
years ago. Through the refractions of memory, which befog and distort as much as they illuminate and clarify, the
old Isherwood has trouble explaining his earlier self, understanding his motivation, or even getting straight what
happened in what order. Hence an “I,” the 72-year-old distinguished author, and his “Christopher,” the callow youth
coming to terms with his art, his time, his sexuality. I think again of Wordsworth who, looking back, seems “two
consciousnesses, conscious of myself/And of some other Being.” There is a wonderful irony in the presentation of the
book’s culminating moral vision, at the moment when Christopher, having left behind a lover in Germany, unable to
save him from the draft, declares his own pacifism:

Suppose, Christopher now said to himself, I have a Nazi Army at my mercy. I can blow it up by pressing a button. The
men in that Army are notorious for torturing and murdering civilians – all except one of them, Heinz. Will I press
the button? No – wait: Suppose I know that Heinz himself, out of cowardice or moral infection, has become as bad as
they are and takes part in all their crimes? Will I press that button, even so? Christopher’s answer, given without
the slightest hesitation, was: Of course not.

Reasoning from an immediate emotional hypothesis to a general principle, Christopher concludes:

How could he have dared to suggest that . . . any people anywhere ought to fight, ought to die in
defense of any principles, however excellent? I must honor those who fight of their own free will, he said to
himself. And I must try to imitate their courage by following my path as a pacifist, wherever it takes me.

But now comes the deflating turn which reminds us how facile are the reconstructions of hindsight which Isherwood
will not allow himself:

The above description of Christopher’s reactions is far too lucid, however. What had actually begun to surface in
his muddled mind was a conflict of emotions. He felt obliged to become a pacifist, he refused to deny his
homosexuality, he wanted to keep as much of his leftism as he could. All he could do for the present was to pick up
his ideas one after another and reexamine them, ring them like coins, saying: This one’s counterfeit; this one’s
genuine, but I can’t use it; this one I can keep, I think.

This book refuses to romanticize, even though in it we can see how historIical characters, E.M. Forster, Stephen
Spender, above all Auden, rise above the ordinary incidents of their lives in the memory and art of another, to
become the mythic heroes of arts and letters that we now think them to be. Isherwood reminds us that life in Berlin
was ordinary and boring more than it was exciting and adventurous; he quotes from his earlier fictionalized memoir
Lions and Shadows (many details of which are corrected in the later book) on the differences between false
heroism, exemplified by the bravado of Lawrence of Arabia, and quiet, genuine, balanced greatness. The true hero
“travels straight across the broad America of normal life. But ’America’ is just what the truly weak man, the
neurotic hero, dreads. And so … he prefers to attempt the huge northern circuit, the laborious terrible northwest
passage.” Isherwood’s departure for America, his newfound land, is a symbolic gesture, a hopeful journey to a land
of ordinariness where he and his “kind” can live sanely and comfortably.

Christopher’s kind are homosexuals, but more importantly, minorities of any sort, either tortured obscenely by the
Nazis or rejected more hypocritically by social convention and snobbism. In his matter-of-fact treatment of his
sexual preferences and affairs (“To Christopher, Berlin meant Boys,” he announces at the start), Isherwood has made
an important contribution to the literature of minority liberation. This is his book’s third, and perhaps greatest,
achievement. Our age, like the Thirties, is given to strident political and artistic positions; while it would be
wrong to condemn the more active spokesmen of minority rights, it is all the more significant that the tone
(that most ineffable of all literary qualities) of Isherwood’s autobiography is neither truculent nor
confessional, but the still, honest voice of a man looking back on the events of a tumultuous time. He shows how all
minorities can be persecuted, by laws (the notorious paragraph 175 of the German penal code which made homosexual
acts illegal), in social condescension (even from sympathetic parties, like Christopher’s mother), and most
grotesquely, in self-hatred. The book’s central episode (the midpoint of the book brings us to the mid-point of the
decade) deals with Isherwood’s inability to get his German boyfriend out of Germany; at the last moment, victory is
snatched away when Heinz is refused entry by a British immigration official at Harwich in 1934. Christopher and
Auden have gone to the pier, and after Heinz is turned back, Auden chillingly notes of the official: “As soon as I
saw the bright-eyed little rat, I knew we were done for. He understood the whole situation at a glance – because
he’s one of us.”

Christopher and His Kind is a procla-mation of the rights of “us,” all of us, against the demands of “the
others,” whether fascists, aristocrats, war-makers, or the heterosexual hegemony, to live according to our natures.
Standing on board the Champlain in 1939, Christopher is nervous about the America of ordinary life, which he hopes
will be satisfactory. He did not know it, but Isher-wood and we know now, looking back, that the future was good.

– Willard Spiegelman

Affairs to Forget

“Why this book?” Three recent books ask that on page 1, one of them in just those words, and all three give the same
answer: to set the record straight. To “prevent distortions,” says Meta Carpenter Wilde (A Loving Gentleman: The
Love Story of William Faulkner and Meta Carpenter,
Simon and Schuster, $9.95). To add “a small clarifying
footnote to history,” says Kay Summersby Morgan (Past Forgetting: My Love Affair with Dwight D. Eisenhower,
Simon and Schuster, $9.95). “I owe it to my small place in history to tell it ’like it is,’” James Roosevelt
claims (My Parents: A Differing View, Playboy Press, $12.50).

I wonder. Do they write, do we read, in the interest of some larger truth? I suspect the motives for us all lie
elsewhere. These authors have all brushed greatness, have warmed themselves in the aura that surrounds men and women
of genius and fame. Keep quiet about it? Nonsense! Every grown person in Oxford, Mississippi, has his own Faulkner
story; let Miss Meta tell hers too. If Elliott Roosevelt can write about “father” and “mother,” as James refers to
them, his elder brother can. As for Kay Morgan, Eisenhower’s driver during World War II, Ike would have divorced his
wife for her if General Marshall had let him, a medal she must wear and share.

Of the three books, I like A Loving Gentleman best. Like a lady, Wilde introduces and acknowledges her
co-author Orin Borsten. She is honest and subtle enough about herself to convince us of her honesty about others
too. I doubt her only on the subject of Estelle Faulkner, the wife to whom Faulkner returned annually and finally,
and who comes off about as well as Mrs. Rochester does in Jane Eyre, always crazy, drunk, or worse, plain
dowdy.

Otherwise the book, while almost absurdly romantic at times, rings true. Though they met in Hollywood, where
Faulkner wrote scripts to pay off debts back in Oxford, both were, after all, Southerners in a less cynical time,
and Faulkner was the most absurdly romantic of men where women were concerned, as a quick reading of The Hamlet
or Light in August shows. When Meta tells us that he once strewed their bed with gardenia petals, I sigh
and accept. It helps, I suppose, to be a Mississippian, as I am, and to have had a crush on Faulkner since age 13.
But I was finally engaged with her story, I read it right through, and I cried when Faulkner died.

Kay Morgan’s publishers boast that she wrote Past Forgetting alone, without a co-author. I believe them. But
I would like to know who wrote the disgustingly sentimental preface, headed “From the Publishers,” which seeks to
dignify the book on the basis of its author’s demise, and the even more disgusting cutlines for the photos: “General
Marshall, who resisted Kay’s charm,” “Kay poses for a glamour leg shot,” etc. The text itself is as decent and bland
as Ike himself. Oddly, similarities exist between this and the Faulkner story which makes me think the mistress
memoir might become an accepted genre. For example, each lover gives a little dog to his mistress, an obvious
surrogate, as Morgan recognizes, for the child the two will never have. But if Faulkner was a passionate lover and a
romantic man of words, Eisenhower was not. Kay swears he was impotent – it was only nominally the “affair” of the
title – and his most tender memento to Kay after Tekel, the dog, was a postcard on which was written: “Good night!
There are lots of things I could wish to say – you know them. Good night.” I ask you.

The worst of the books, and one of the most boring books I have ever read, is that by James Roosevelt “with Bill
Libby.” Who is this Bill Libby? Are we expected to believe this awful sledge-hammer prose is the joint conscious
creation of two people? Impossible. I prefer to think that Roosevelt himself is responsible for such winged lines as
the description of FDR as “an early-to-bed, early-to-rise guy,” and that Libby just put in the periods. If he’d only
capitalized “father” and “mother” as well.

My Parents lacks any redeeming social value at all, as far as I can see. It has no important information
about the subject that’s not in Joseph Lash’s excellent Eleanor and Franklin. The only really interesting
addition, that Eleanor may have had an affair herself – Eleanor Roosevelt?? – is admittedly sheer
speculation. True, Roosevelt gives us a careful account of the multiple marriages and divorces, business failures,
and other fiascos of himself and his siblings, especially of his brother Elliott, whom he apparently has it in for.
But who cares?

So why did I read it? Why read any of these books when I could have been reading Henry James or something?
Prurience, pure and simple.

– Jo Brans<BR>Movies

The Star in Spite of Herself

There seems to be nothing Barbra Streisand can’t do with her voice. She does practically everything with it in A
Star Is Born.
There are a few things she can’t do as an actress. Unfortunately, she tries to do some of them in
the film. She can’t suggest vulnerability or deep emotion – the veneer of the superstar lies between us and the
character she is playing. When she is called upon to move us with her grief in the film’s final sequence, she fails
– until the emotion she is trying to portray gets its expression in song.

The ending of A Star Is Born is a recapitulation of the ending of Funny Girl – in which Fanny Brice
belted out “MyMan” as an expression of her loss. Forthat matter, all of the new film recapitulates Streisand’s first
success. Bothfilms tell the story of a hip, gutsy uglyduckling who falls for a gorgeous manand becomes strong and
beautiful as hebecomes weaker. Eight years and tenfilms later, Streisand has nothing newto show us, but we watch
with fascination – if you can stand to watch Streisand at all, it must be with fascination – because she does so
much of it sowell. This plot, after all, has served herwell – it worked in The Way We Were, too, because
Streisand was matchedwith Robert Redford, a male star ofequivalent charisma.

A Star Is Born almost works, despite all we’ve read about its troubled filming. Its major problem is the
music, which isn’t very good – and is wrong for Kris Kristofferson. The “musical concepts” for the film are credited
to Streisand and it’s a musical comedy star’s idea of rock music – lots of strings and not much soul. Kristofferson
gives a very good performance, perhaps the best of his career, but his best scenes are the ones without Streisand.
When they’re together, the chemistry is wrong – he’s too soft, she’s too hard. The script, too, is patchy; amid the
remnants of Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne’s original concept about the lives of two rock performers in the
hyped-up world of Southern California and the music industry, the glossy romance seems to belong to another film,
which in fact it does – the two previous A Star Is Born films. The updating of the film hardly works – we
have grown too cynical about stardom to feel terribly excited when the heroine of the latest version hits the
bigtime.

But the film is redeemed almost every time Streisand starts to sing, with the artistry that can redeem junk, just as
great sopranos can make Giordano or Cilea sound like great music. It is very much her film, and its failings are
very much her fault. Her own insecurities, her lapses of taste – the ugly clothes, the smarmy lyrics, the dream
house in the desert that looks like a fancy taco stand on Greenville Avenue – are very much in evidence. There are
very few performers alive who, when they get a chance to “express themselves,” can transcend their personal
weaknesses, but Streisand’s voice, her timing, her shrewd and striking face are natural resources that no amount of
tastelessness can wholly negate.

– Charles Matthews



Monkeying with the Myth

The Tolstoy family used to play a game that consisted of standing in a corner and trying not to think about a white
bear. I just played a game that consisted of sitting in a theater seat and trying not to think about the first
version of .King Kong. The Tolstoys always lost. So did I.

As odious as comparisons are supposed to be, Dino De Laurentiis has not only invited them, he has made them
mandatory – not only by remaking one of the more curious “classics” of film, but by mounting the most formidable
media blitz in history, and billing his film as “the most exciting original motion picture of all time.” If you
believe that, you’ll believe anything.

The new King Kong is a technological triumph. Apart from a few patchy process shots and some obvious
discontinuity between real exteriors and soundst-age sets, it’s as “realistic” a monster film as we are ever likely
to see. But as so often happens, technical perfection deadens the spirit. All those millions of dollars of pipes and
wires and plastic and rubber and computer connections can’t give this Kong a soul. He blinks and sniffs and even
gives his girl friend a blow-dry, but the jerky miniature of the 1933 film was a lot more affecting.

As for the humans, they enjoy camping it up, which is a pity. One of the pleasures of the original film is that
Bruce Cabot, Fay Wray and Robert Armstrong seemed to take their roles seriously, and thereby made our own foolish
delight and terror more comfortable. Charles Grodin, the villain of the new film, obviously knows his role is
absurd, and he plays it for all the caricature he can. Jeff Bridges, one of our most intelligent and appealing film
actors, is a bit more conscientious about it, but as a consequence his talents seem wasted. And Jessica Lange, the
new-model Fay Wray, is a non-actress who looks pleasant enough, but seems to have learned to simulate desire from
watching those porno-movie heroines who writhe about a lot.

All of this is to say that the new King Kong isn’t nearly as much fun as it ought to be. The absurdity is
overplayed, the “message” (ecological rape is bad) both obvious and inadequate to justify the film’s bothering with
it to begin with. In short, it is an insincere film, which the first film wasn’t. The first one took on deeper
significance because it was so appealingly naive in its execution. You have to believe in it because it’s so likably
dumb. Mercifully, the new film omits the old one’s famous last lines. For it isn’t beauty that killed the beast this
time, just money. That almost kills the film, too.

– Charles Matthews



Coming Attractions



University of Dallas Art Department Film Series every Thur in March at 7:30 in Lynch Auditorium. $2. The
Red and the White,
Milos Jansco; Alexander Nevsky, Eisenstein; Savages. James Ivory; La
Bêfe Humaine, Jean Renoir. Other films in Lynch at 7:30 include Student Teacher Mar 4,
Hollywood Boulevard Mar 6. Westworld Mar 25, and THX 1138 Mar 27.

Haymarket Theatre presents a Marlene Dietrich series as the first half of several double features. Mar 6-9
Cobra Woman. Mar 13-16 Golden Earrings/ Grade Allen Murder Case. Mar 20-23 Blonde
Venus/International Housě.
Mar 27-30 Destry Rides Again/Duck Soup. Mar 6, John Barrymore in The
Tempest,
a silent film with live piano accompaniment by the Lady in Black. Olla Podrida/12214 Coit
Rd/387-0807.

USA Film Festival, Mar 18-27, in SMU’s Bob Hope Threatre. King Vidor Retrospective. 7 p.m. Mar 18-20, two
films each night. Weekend pass $20; $7.50 per night. Twelve feature films and shorts will be presented the rest of
the week in a day and a night program. Vidor films include The Crowd, Show People, Northwest Passage, Duel in the
Sun,
Ruby Gentry. Daytime program, 1-5:30 p.m.; weeklong pass $30, $5 per day. Nighttime program 7-11:30
p.m.; weeklong pass $45; $7.50 per night. For advance tickets, mail check to USA Film Festival, Inc., P.O. Box 3105,
Dallas 75275.

University of Texas/Dallas Films, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday nights, 7:30 and 9:30 p. m. in Founders North
Auditorium, Floyd & Lookout, Richardson. Films to be shown in March include Hitchcock’s Spellbound and
Notorious, Olivier’s Hamlet, Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451, La Sirene du Mississippi and The
Bride Wore Black,
and Easter Parade with Fred Astaire and Judy Garland. For a complete schedule call
690-2281.

The Edison Theatre, 2420 N Fitzhugh. Revivals of recent films and of classics, with some first-runs. Features
change every other night. For a complete schedule call 823-9610.

Lakewood Theatre, 1825 Abrams. Recent films in double-feature screenings. Tickets $1 at all times, Call for
current features, 821-5706.

Richland College will offer a seven-week course on the history and significance of the Academy of Motion
Picture Arts and Sciences and the Awards. Winners in major categories will be viewed and discussed. Begins Mar 22,
7:30-10:30 p.m. $30. 12800 Abrams Rd/746-4444.

Southwestern Medical School. 8 p.m. every Saturday in Gooch Auditorium. Shows includeHitchcock’s The
Thirty-Nine Steps,
with RobertDonat; Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in The Big Sleep, directed by
Howard Hawks; BusterKeaton’s The General; Au Hasard Balthazar. $1.5323 Harry Hines Blvd/688-2168.

Music

The DSO’s Second Season Send-off

The Dallas Symphony’s “Second Season” got under way with Louis Lane conducting a musically satisfying program
drawn from the romantic and early modern periods, the meat and potatoes of the concert repertoire. If one of the
selections was on the dowdy side (Schumann’s Fourth Symphony), none of the other works – by Dvorak, Stravinsky, and
Rachmaninoff – on the program exactly had to win the audience over; they’re all staples. The next week’s concert,
however, was a different story. Guest conductor Leonard Slat-kin led the Orchestra, and I for one left Fair
Park a good deal more uneasy about the music than the week before, which I take it was Slatkin’s point. With Lane it
was mostly the music itself, along with the superb musicianship of pianist Rudolph Firkusny, that made the
evening a success, albeit a safe one. Slatkin’s triumph was more a matter of his attitude toward the music, his
obvious sense of mastery and of the assurance that he and the Orchestra together had cracked some pretty hard nuts,
and that it was worth hearing how they’d done it. I felt thrilled by most of the music Lane conducted. When Slat-kin
was on the podium I was awed by his achievement.

The way Lane’s program was structured he really couldn’t lose. He started off with a rousing toe-tapper, the
Carnival Overture, a work with lovely, tender solo violin parts for Eliot Chapo (under whose leadership the whole
violin section is nicely tidying up its sometimes distressing intonation). Schumann’s Symphony No. 4 in D Minor, to
my mind, received a less satisfactory airing, not entirely for reasons of its own. Schumann over-orchestrated the
score in revising it, and as a result every instrument group has its hands full almost all the time. There’s a
stately foyer of an opening, but after that it’s like walking into a stuffy Victorian parlor; you can’t sneeze
without bumping into something, although you couldn’t do it any serious damage. Some holes in the conducting (with
the brasses at times unsure of the downbeat, making entrances either rushed or delayed) heightened the uncertainty
of Schumann’s stop-and-go rhythms, and I thought the Orchestra ran away from Lane in the Finale. But all in all I
felt instinctively comfortable with the music. It recovered its aspirations, no more, no less.

Rudolph Firkusny, the Czech virtuoso pianist, tightened things up in the evening’s marvelous second half. The style
of the Stravinsky piece that night, “Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra,” was as eclectic – neo-classic, Mozartian
runs folding into Spanish rhythms and finally ragtime – as the following week’s Symphonies of Wind Instruments was
resolutely modern. Stravinsky reached back past the romantic, stagy piano concerto to a more integrated eighteenth
century form, but the keyboard part is irrepressible anyway. Firkusny’s hammering bass attacks gave the piece its
bottom. In a superb collaboration he and the Orchestra really got cooking at its jazzy, syncopated closing.

They kicked off the Rachmaninoff “Rhapsody” in a similar spirit, and at a faster tempo than I’ve heard several
younger pianists dare. In this solo showcase the piano surfaced in a way Stravinsky didn’t ever allow. When
Firkus-ny plays one of Rachmaninoff’s ten-fingered chords you can hear every note in it. Firkusny’s own flourishes
included a couple of unexpected, shimmering pedel effects only a real pro would risk trying, plus unusual and
convincing accents in the familiar, leisurely, straight romantic solo in the Eighteenth Variation. I had a feeling
that Firkusny, Lane, and Orchestra had worked hard to acknowledge the unique character of each of the twenty-four
variations, and the resulting performance was a memorable and pleasing success.

None of the music on Louis Lane’s program was hard to like, and the performances that night got better and better to
boot. Leonard Slatkin, Associate Principal Conductor at St. Louis and the first of five guest conductors the DSO has
booked this season, undertook to claim largely unfamiliar musical territory. It was a case of trying to do more with
less, in one respect because he accomplished as much as he did with two rather unpromising, ungrateful compositions,
and in another because he got his finest aesthetic effects with the two works that required him to split the
Orchestra, first the winds alone and then the strings.

If there was significant connection between Melville’s novel and the turbid, or turgid, ebb and flow of Mennin’s
“Moby Dick,” I couldn’t fathom it, despite Slatkin’s energetic drive to make it the evening’s tone-setting overture.
He conducted it as though he were a trainer uncoiling an enormous snake, but I couldn’t get involved in the act.
This may be one of those pieces more fun for musicians to play than for audiences to listen to. Not so with
Stravinsky’s spry and ruddy Symphonies of Wind Instruments, the first of Slatkin’s two clear hits of the evening. I
had in my head the version recorded by Stravinsky’s old friend Ernst Ansermet, and Slatkin’s by comparison was a
shade impatient, as though he figured it wouldn’t go over, which it certainly did. Nevertheless, how wonderful to
hear this piece done at all, and with such scrupulous attention to intonation and balance (at a time of year when
the several thousand winter coats in the hall might have absorbed the cleanest trumpet attack).

Tchaikovsky’s “Serenade in C Major for Strings” was easily the most familiar piece of the evening, but also the one
in which the Orchestra occasionally wanted to have its own way. It dragged behind the tempo Slatkin seemed to have
in mind in the throbbing first movement Allegro moderato, and he had a problem in the Finale getting them down to
his idea of a double pianissimo. But the most powerful and moving section, the Elegia, was played with the greatest
feeling, with the phrasing there linked miraculously to whispered dynamics. About Sibelius’ cheerless Fifth Symphony
the less said the better, although Slatkin’s careful conducting illuminated some lovely effects in it. This work
toils so covertly to its hesitantly tuneful climax you can miss nice moments along the way, but I’m afraid a tree
here and there doesn’t make a forest.

Overall, Slatkin conducted a difficult program with enormous sensitivity and sympathy for the music, and with
respect for the audience. I would say that as a conductor he is far more exciting than some of the pieces he brought
along, but in those instances he managed to conduct performances that transcended the material, and that’s something
we don’t often hear.

– Willem Brans



Recordings

Dvorak, New World Symphony; Carnival Overture. Zubin Mehta, Los Angeles Philharmonic (London)

Zubin Mehta’s lush but firm recordings with the L.A. Philharmonic will presumably soon end, when he takes over in
New York. On this highly appealing disc his approach, as we have come to expect, leans more toward that of a
Bernstein than a Boulez, to name his two immediate predecessors. Mehta’s performance here reflects the qualities of
romanticism and generous feeling characteristic of the composer’s music. This LP should make you think again if
you’ve lately said Dvorak is old hat.

-Willem Brans



Mozart, Concerto N. 16 in D, K. 451; Concerto No. 17 in G, K. 453. Peter Serkin, English Chamber Orchestra,
Alexander Schneider conducting (RCA)



Note for note, this recording contains some of the most sensitive Mozart playing I’ve ever heard. Serkin and
Schneider’s collaboration emphasizes the emerging symphonic scale of Mozart’s concerto writing (both these works
date from 1784), as well as the mature inventiveness we associate with the operas. Serkin gives these scores a bold
and thoughtful reading; Schneider’s conducting is surpassingly delicate.

– Willem Brans



The Horowitz Concerts, 1975/1976(RCA)



In case you missed Horowitz on his nationwide tour two years ago, on this recording you can hear his superb
performance of Scriabin’s Sonata No. 5 (which he in fact played in Houston). Many people find Scriabin hard to sit
still for, but with this record, you’ll be on the edge of your seat as the audience was on that dazzling Sunday
afternoon in Jones Hall. However, the big number on The Horowitz Concerts is Schumann’s massive Concerto
Without Orchestra (Grand Sonata No. 3 in F Minor, Opus 14). Nothing like as popular, either with pianists or with
audiences, as Schumann’s first two sonatas, this lyrical and prodigiously demanding monster of a sonata should have
a permanent place in the piano repertoire. But who else will ever play it as well as Horowitz does in his ageless
prime?

– Willem Brans



Concerts

Dallas Symphony Orchestra, presents Benny Goodman at 8 p.m. Mar 5. Klaus Tennstedt conducts the DSO, with
soprano Marilyn Home, Mar 11 and 12 at 8:15 p.m. Louis Lane conducts, with pianist Alexis Weissenberg Mar 17 and 19
at 8:15 p.m. and Mar 18 at 10:30 a.m. Hamenco guitarist Carlos Montoya performs at 8 p.m. Mar 26. Fair Park Music
Hall/692-0203.

Fort Worth Opera Association stages Puccini’s Tosca, with Barry Morell and Lorna Haywood, Mar 4 at 8
p.m. and Mar 6 at 2:30 p.m. Tarrant County Convention Center Theatre. Tickets $10.50, $9, $8. $7.50. $5.50.
$4/(817)731-0833.

Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra presents pianist Etsuko Tazaki Mar 15, and Count Basie and his Orchestra Mar
26. Both at 8:15 p.m. in the Tarrant County Convention Center Theatre. $3,$4,$6,$7. The Texas Chamber Orchestra
features guitarist Pepé Romero Mar 23 at 8:15 p.m. $2.50/(817)921-2676.

Eastfield College. Twentieth Century Music Festival, Mar 1-10, features pianist Natalie Hinderas Mar 2 at
12:30 and 8 p.m. Guitarist Enric Madriguera and harpsichordist Ken Bruggers perform Mar 4 at 8 p.m. Mar 6 at 2 p.m.
there will be an open rehearsal of Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms. The East-field Choir and members of the
DSO present an all-Stravinsky concert at 8 p.m. Mar 7. Twentieth Century Chamber Music, performed by pianist
Pierrette Mouledous and DSO members Mar 8 at 8 p.m. Jazz trombonist Bill Watrous solos Mar 9 at 12:30 p.m. and plays
Mar 10 at 8 p.m. with the Eastfield Jazz Ensemble. All events are free, but ticket reservations required. 3737
Motley Dr/746-3132.

Dallas Chamber Music Society, Inc. brings The Quartet Academica to SMU Caruth Auditorium Mar 7 at 8:15 p.m.
in the last of the Elmer Scott Concert Series. Single-show tickets $2.75, subject to availability. Call in advance
526-7301 or 521-3831. For subscription information, write the Society at 4808 Drexel Dr, Dallas 75205.

Van Cliburn Lecture/Performanca Sariss features The Hungarian School, a concert/lecture with pianist
Gyorgy Sandor Mar 8 at 8 p.m. Scott Theatre, Fort Worth. For subscription information, write Van Cliburn Foundation,
Inc., 3505 W Lancaster, Fort Worth 76107, or call (817)738-6509.

Temple Emanu-EI presents the first Dallas performance of Handel’s Belshazzar. with soloists, DSO
musicians, and the Temple Choir, directed by Simon Sargon Free. 745 p.m. in the sanctuary. 8500 Hillcrest
Rd/368-3613.

Railhead presents Kansas Rain through Mar 12. Tue-Sat 8:45 p.m.-1 a.m., 8-12 p.m. Sun. 6939 Twin Hills
Ave/369-8700.

Wintergarden Ballroom presents Tommy DorseyMar 18. Tickets $7.50 advance, $8.50 at the door.Call 327-6265 for
reservations. 1616 John West Rd.

D RECOMMENDS

“Legendary” is too easy an epithet, but if it applies to anyone, it applies to Marian Anderson. Miss Anderson will
be appearing as the guest artist with the Dance Theatre of Harlem when it returns for a series of performances at
the Music Hall in Fair Park, March 24-27. She will narrate the ballet “Dance in Praise of His Name,” choreographed
by DTH’s director Arthur Mitchell in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., at a gala benefit opening night, 8 p.m.
March 24. Tickets for the benefit range from $3 to $9, with special patron tickets available at $50 each. Patrons
will be invited to a reception honoring Miss Anderson and the company after the performance. For tickets and
information call 826-6663 or 363-2121.

Dance



Performances



Dance Theatre of Hariem presents Dance in Praise of His Name, choreographed by Arthur Mitchell,
narrated by Marian Anderson, and dedicated to Dr. Martin Luther King. Mar 24 at 8 p.m. Mar 25-27, the Theatre will
stage Fete Noire, Manifestations, Adagietto #5, and Forces of Rhythm. 8 p.m. Mar 25, 2 p.m. Mar 26-27.
State Fair Music Hall. Tickets $3-$9/826-6663 or 363-2121.

Mountain View College Concert Dancers perform John Brown’s Body. Mar 25-27 at 8:15 p.m. in the
Performance Hall/746-4132.

Dallas Ballet will sponsor the Alvin Ailey AmericanDance Theatre Mar 7-9 at the Music Hall at 8:15p.m.
Tickets $4 50-$11 /526-1370.



Sports



Games and Matches



Hockey/ Dallas Blackhawks. State Fair Coliseum. All games start at 7:30 p.m. Tickets $2.50-$5.50.
8236362.

Mar 3 vs. Oklahoma City

Mar 4 vs. Salt Lake City

Mar 11 vs. Tulsa

Mar 12 vs. Fort Worth

Mar 18 vs. Fort Worth

Mar 19 vs. Kansas City

Mar 22 vs. Tulsa

Mar 27 vs. Oklahoma City

Hockey/Fort Worth Texans. Will Rogers Coliseum. All games start at 7:30 p.m. Tickets $2.50-$4.
(817)332-1585.

Mar 3 vs. Salt Lake City

Mar 5 vs. Dallas

Mar 16 vs. Oklahoma City

Mar 19 vs. Salt Lake City

Mar 23 vs. Tulsa

Mar 26 vs. Dallas

Mar 30 vs. Oklahoma City

Lacrosse/Dallas Lacrosse Club. Village Apartments Athletic Field on Southwestern Blvd. All games
begin at 1 p.m. Free. For information call Don New-bury at 823-1310.

Mar 5 vs. Texas

Apr 2 vs. Baylor

Apr 3 vs. Houston

Quarter Horse Racing/Ross Downs, Hwy 121. four miles southwest of Grapevine. 481-1071. From 9 to 19
races every Sunday year round, beginning at 1 p.m. Adults $2/children $1.

Soccer/Dallas Tornado. Ownby Stadium, SMU. Tickets $4.50-$7 adults, $2.50-$3.50 under 18. For
information, call 750-0900.

Mar 12 vs. Zenit of Leningrad. Kickoff at 2 p.m.

Tennis/Virginia Slims of Dallas at SMU’s Moody Coliseum, Mar 7-13. Tickets $35, $30 series; $6. $8 and
$9 daily. Tickets available at all First Federal Savings offices, major Sears stores, Preston Ticket Agency,
Amusement Ticket Agency, and Central Ticket Agency. For more information, call 363-1349 or 692-2505.

Thoroughbred Horsa Racing / Louisiana Downs.Bossier City, LA, on IH-20 (about three hours drivefrom
Dallas). Nine or ten races daily, Wed throughSun, Jan 14-June 5. Post time 12:45 p.m. Grandstand $1, Clubhouse $2
50; plus $1 entrance(parking) fee. For further information or reservations, call toll free 1-800-551-8623.



Etc

Enlightenment



Temple Shalom Arts Forum presents author Gail Sheehy, lecturing on is There Lite After Youth? Etc

Enlightenment

Temple Shalom Arts Forum presents author Gail Sheehy, lecturing on Is There Life After Youth? Mar 23
at 8 p.m. $12 tor series of three lectures. 6930 Alpha Rd/661-1810.

Women’s Cantor of Dallas offers a workshop on Divorce: Legal and Psychological Aspects, instructed by
attorney Sue Goolsby and clinical psychologist Dolores Dyer. Mar 5, 9:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Fee $8. Counselor Ruth
Miller conducts a workshop dealing with Life Transitions Mar 19, 9:30 a.m.-4 p.m. Fee $10. 3107
Routh/651-9795.

Hara Workshop and Lecture with Stanley Keleman, Director of the Center lor Energetic Studies at Berkeley.
Lecture Mar 18 at 8 p.m. Fee $3. Workshop Mar 19, 9 a.m. -6 p.m., and Mar 20, 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Fee $75. Call 279-6868
for more information.

Film Series, co-sponsored by Hara and the Jewish Community Center, dealing with human potential, meditation,
aging, and fear of death. 7:45 p.m. Mar 1,8. 15. and 22. $8 series, $2 50 single: $6 or $2 students. 7900 Northaven
Rd/279-6868.

Family Guidance Canter. Second Time Around, a two-day workshop for those in a second marriage. Mar 4.
7:30-9:30 p.m.; Mar 5, 9:30 a.m. -4 p.m. Relocation Weekend, an introduction to Dallas, Mar 18-19. Fees $20
couple, $15 single. 2200 Main St/747-8331.

Temple Emanu-EI Significant Book Series. Rabbi Jack Bemporad discusses Lillian Hellman’s Scoundrel Time,
an account of the McCarthy Era. Mar 2. 10:30 a.m. Tickets $5 for series of four programs. 8500 Hillcrest
Rd/368-3613.

University of Dallas. Shakespeare Festival under thedirection of Louise Cowan. Every Wed, Mar 2-Apr13, 7:30.
$20. 438-1123.



Kidstuff

Meadows School of the Arts/SMU and Dallas Mu-seum of Fine Arts offer the Young Artist series
forchildren Mar 5 and 26. Media include photography, drawing, painting, sculpture, jewelry, andclay. Contact Nancy
Kotch at 692-2489 for moreinformation.



Good Deeds

The Clipped B’s will sponsor a benefit gala evening of Bach, Pops, and Barbershop in the Great Hall of
the Apparel Mart Mar 19. Featured are the Vocal Majority barbershop chorus, the Mid-Cities Symphony under James
Gambino, and Gambino’s own orchestra. Proceeds will benefit Proyecto Huasteco for underprivileged children in
Mexico. $25 for reserved seats, $10 general admission/252-5292 or 352-1210.

Boy Scout Quadrennial Carnival Mar 12,1: 30-5:30at the University Park School, 3505 Amherst. Proceeds to send
the entire Troop #70 to the NationalJamboree in Pennsylvania.

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