After months of intensive bookwriting and Kickstarting, Tim and I reached creative burnout on Thursday night. So we did the only sensible thing: we packed up the car and drove to Jacob’s Pillow for a much-needed dose of creative rejuvenation.
I’ve been wanting to go see the summer dance performances at Jacob’s Pillow for ages. It felt good to be in a space where choreographers and dancers were practicing and living and creating new work. Being there reminded me of the feeling of being at an arts residency, surrounded by all these other people embarking on creative projects. At this moment of creative burnout there was a restorative energy in being in that kind of generative environment.
Plus, Jacob’s Pillow’s has the most spectacular stage for its outdoor performances. It backs right into a drop-down view of the tree-lined valley and the surrounding mountains, so the dancers aren’t dancing so much in the amphitheater as in the landscape. It’s incredible the way this vista amplifies the meaning and impact of movement.
We were lucky enough to catch the Alonzo King LINES Ballet, too, and their first piece to Concerto For Two Violins was so jawdroppingly stunning from the rich powerhouse first movement to the subtle, entwined quartet of dancers in “Largo Ma Non Tanto,” that it was one of those moments where you just sit there and think thank God I’m alive for this.
Our good friends Kate & Robert (of the amazing Oakes & Smith art folk duo), live not too far from Jacob’s Pillow, so we decided to make a night of it and sat up impressively late over wine and brie talking about Edith Wharton and artmaking and Pluto.
And then, because it’s the Berkshires — and what trip to the Berkshires would be complete without a visit to Tanglewood? — we wandered over and listened to the symphony rehearse Mozart to the intermittent peal of thunder and downpour. During a break in the storm, we walked all through those genteel landscaped grounds and through the strains of opera practice and summer institute orchestras and the tuning of a grand piano.
After a stop at the Amherst Bookstore (where I picked up this book — so excited!) and a great visit with Judy, we wended our way back home and back to work on our own creative projects. There really is nothing like a couple of days of art and dance and music to interrupt and reinvigorate this long, crazy last stretch of bookwriting.