Maturity

On Saturday night, Jethro and I went to see Mikhail Baryshnikov perform with Hell's Kitchen Dance at Birmingham's Wright Center. The first performance was called "Years Later." It featured Baryshnikov dancing live with a film of his younger self behind him. His movements served as comments to the film. At one point, he held his lower back, as if to say that he was too old for this stuff. It was funny and also poignant. The audience was supposed to assume that he could no longer perform the way he used to, and perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing.

Following two other performances, Baryshnikov once again took the stage. This time, he danced with the company. The theme of the performance was the individual versus community, young versus old. There was a deep sadness to this last dance. Movements reflected a turning away, as if Baryshnikov was daring people to say goodbye. It was moving.

In interviews, he's stated that he felt that it was time to pass the torch to the next generation. It appears that this tour was meant to do exactly that.

Considering that Baryshnikov is almost 60 now, it's amazing that he's continued being a relevant force in dance. Often people in the arts make a big splash in their younger years. Contributions dribble as they get older until, finally, they grow completely silent. Why is that? Do artists exhaust their message? Does our society demean the contributions of the not-so-youthful?

I'm not sure, but I do know that older artists have wisdom and maturity. So much has been written about youth, hopes and "coming-of-age." Maturity is vastly underrated.

But that's just my opinion.