Loving Leonard

 

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Recently I was asked to describe what it is like to know and work with Leonard Nimoy. My answer was that he is the embodiment of the very best there is in the whole of human consciousness.

Anyone who knew him well would agree.

Knowing Leonard, and having the exceptional honor of working with him, was accompanied with an awareness that he was generating something that offered me the gift of being better than I was beforehand.

Leonard’s grounded intellect, immense talent and public kindness was woven together in all of his work. He was in possession of a distinctive joy, infectious wit and compassion. His honesty in his approach to everything was wholly generous. He was an alchemist of life at its best potential.

It is tempting to wonder if perhaps Leonard actually was from another planet. No, Leonard was utterly of this world and to imagine otherwise would be to somehow miss his extraordinary example of what it means to be so resonantly, fully and inspirationally human.

Through his works of art, works of philanthropy and advocacy, and through his legacy of profound impact, I know I will continue to learn and benefit from his spirited goodness. These will indeed live long and prosper. For so many of us the world over, our capacities have been ever expanded through his life and works and I know that this will only continue.

I don’t have a deep enough word to acknowledge his rare brilliance. Whatever that word is, it is stuck in my solar plexus and tethered there in my heart as I write this.

Thank you Leonard Nimoy.

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Kristy Edmunds and Leonard Nimoy. Photo by Spencer Davis (at top Leonard Nimoy, photo by Spencer Davis).

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Leonard Nimoy, Kristy Edmunds and Susan Bay Nimoy. Photo by Phinn Sriployrung

“Movement” 2015

The Royce Terrace turned into a dance club on Friday, February 13 to launch CAP UCLA’s first Movement event—a party to bring art enthusiasts together to celebrate the artists and performances that inspire us.

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Following the Los Angeles premiere of Kyle Abraham/Abraham.In.Motion’s “When The Wolves Came In” guests partied with the company under the disco ball and danced to beats fueled by KCRW’s Garth Trinidad.

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A special shout-out goes to new CAP UCLA member Karin Okada who got the party started. Karin was the first guest to participate in the interactive dance video. Video of revelers dancing were projected on to the Royce Hall Building, which non-dancers got to enjoy while taking advantage of snacks and the cash bar. We’re very happy to provide  CAP UCLA members complimentary drink vouchers and members’ priority line at the bar for events like this.

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And, we’re very grateful for the CAP UCLA members and collaborators who made this party possible. Thank you Sasha & Bill Anwalt, Stu Bloomberg, Fariba Ghaffari, Deborah Irmas, Diane Kessler, Renee Luskin, Ginny Mancini, Julie Miyoshi, Edie & Robert Parker, Kathleen & John Quisenberry, Anne-Marie Spataru, Jennifer Simchowitz, DeeDee Dorskind & Brad Tabach-Bank and Patty Wilson.

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Check out more photos from Movement 2015 and both Kyle Abraham performances here. There’s more to come!

Ruminations on L.A. by Gabriel Kahane

As Gabriel Kahane prepares to bring his sonic treatise The Ambassador home to Los Angeles, he shared some thoughts on the city that inspired an album, a theatrical stage show, and a state of mind. 

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If you turn onto Vernon Avenue just east of Lincoln Road, you’ll find neat rows of modest bungalows which once announced themselves cheerfully with paint jobs in vivid reds and greens and blues, but which after decades of neglect and exposure to sun have been left mottled and fading. And so it is that these houses have been passed over in the otherwise inexorable spread of gentrification in the Venice area. I am complicit, if only as a window shopper, in this fancification that has largely replaced the seedy character of Free Love-era Venice Beach with a wealth typified by bespoke shops doling out luxury coffee, four-figure caparisons, and faux-Dutch bikes, to a newly transplanted demographic that can handily afford them.

This observation is intended without any kind of territorial griping; my claims on the neighborhood are thin at best. I was born, in 1981, in one of those bungalows, either at 648 Vernon Ave. or maybe 652, but we moved East in 1983. Of those first two years, I have only a pair of (interrelated) memories: first, that the walls may have been a pale yellow; and second, that I had a fever at some point and in its subtropical grip I looked out through the white slats of my crib with burning eyes and beheld those yellow walls, and that’s what I remember.

Though on its surface The Ambassador is a piece about Los Angeles through the lens of film, fiction, and architecture, I think it’s actually a piece about memory, and how memory dances infinitely with physical space. From what I can surmise, Los Angeles started to have a sense of its own history, of collective memory, in the early aughts, around the time of the preservation battle over the Ambassador Hotel, a three-way affair that pitted the LA Unified School District and the Kennedy Family against the L.A. Conservancy. Though the campaign to preserve the hotel failed, and in its place an architecturally vacuous complex of schools (admittedly serving a community much in need) built— about which Christopher Hawthorne has written incisively and eloquently—the process of trying to save the hotel nevertheless reified in many Angelenos a sense of pride in history.

But long before Diane Keaton spoke at the wake for the Ambassador Hotel, there was a trove of cultural artifacts that served, consciously or not, as a historical record of the city. I’m thinking now of the novels of Joan Didion and Nathanael West and James M. Cain, the films of Howard Hawks and Michael Mann and William Friedkin, the criticism of Esther McCoy and Reyner Banham and Mike Davis, and the houses—oh the houses— of Rudolph Schindler and John Lautner and Lloyd Wright. It’s this archive that was my way into making The Ambassador, which as a body of work is more a reflection of what interested me instinctively than an attempt to be comprehensive vis a vis Los Angeles. For how can one map an unmappable city? To paraphrase Christopher Hawthorne, L.A. is not great at sitting still for portraits.

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There is one portrait of Los Angeles that became familiar to me as I worked on The Ambassador, much of which was written in a postage-stamp of a studio apartment perched at the southern end of Griffith Park, an apartment whose original function was as the servant’s quarters of the connected house that Rudolph Schindler remodeled in the early 1920’s. There’s a door on the eastern side of the studio that opens onto a small wooden roof deck, canted nails jutting up and out threateningly. (During one visit, I ended up sitting in the pharmacy at the creepy Walgreen’s at Sunset and Western, waiting to get a tetanus shot before driving home rattled in that singular way one does under the combined influence of foreign chemicals and native adrenaline, one of the nails having had its way with the heel of my left foot.) Stepping outside, if I turn to face south on this little parallelogram of decklet high above the city, it’s all hypnotic views of the L.A. basin. Nights: coyotes skirling just beyond the window, their cries sharp and dry and anechoic, an uneasy counterpoint to the silent play of hundreds of thousands of lights throbbing in the basin below. Mornings: steam rising off of coffee to meet the fog; the ritual of assessing air quality by visibility— can you see Palos Verdes?

Thom Andersen, in his film Los Angeles Plays Itself, says early on that L.A., as a city, is not photogenic, that its edges are blurry, smudged, imprecise. (Another way of articulating Hawthorne’s quip about Los Angeles not taking to portraiture.) That may well be the case, but through human eyes—or at least through my eyes— to behold the city at dawn before the fog has burned off, and to read it as a quick pastel sketch of a metropolis on the brink of bustling activity, commands great emotional precision, even if the image isn’t in focus. And that emotional precision was the thing I wanted to capture in The Ambassador. For as I began to visit Los Angeles more often in my late twenties and early thirties, there was an accretion to the emotional weight of the city. Driving through East Hollywood, Inglewood, Westchester, Marina Del Rey. Walking Vermont Ave. in Koreatown, chatting up the proprietor of a piano shop that seems as uncomfortable in its skin as its owner; she’s still rattled twenty-some-odd years later. The pilgrimage to the San Gabriel Valley for soup dumplings at Din Tai Fung and the reluctant camaraderie that accompanies the lines that stand between you and xiao long bao. Or this: standing under a gunmetal grey sky and gaping at the modest majesty of the Watts Towers and the improbable fact of one man’s vision and persistence.

I wanted to know why the city made me feel so much.

Bringing The Ambassador back to Los Angeles is terrifying. I want to do right by the city that I abandoned so soon after it bore me. I want those who might be prone to reflexive defense of their city to know that if there’s tough love in the piece, it is the object and not the modifier that’s key. But ultimately, I cannot and should not offer preemptive defenses— all I have is to invite you to join me at the Freud Playhouse on February 27 and 28, and to have a look for yourself.

Frank Warren: PostSecret Live” Weds. Jan. 23, 2015-Royce Hall

(Unsigned editorial from the performance program notes)

In the last decade, PostSecret Project founder Frank Warren has received more than a million postcards. That is a staggering amount of secrets to imagine that one human is willing to assume compassionate responsibilty for. It is also a staggering example of the capacity for empathy we all possess.

The secrets have come from around the world, each bearing a secret the anonymous senders might otherwise never voice.

Hopes, fears, confessions, regrets, dreams, all captured on 4×6 cards that come pouring into Frank’s mailbox, and his home, every day.
Tonight, we’ll get to see some of the postcards that didn’t end up on the PostSecret website or in one of Frank’s books. But we haven’t all gathered here just to pull back the curtain on the lives of strangers. Frank will share what all those secrets have taught him about the unseen dramas unfolding all around us, and how they can help us be more compassionate.

We all feel the need to conceal parts of ourselves. Whatever our individual secrets may be, we each make daily decisions about what to share and what to hide, which doors to open and which to keep locked.

Here at the Center, we believe in opening doors. We believe in creating a space where we can share an experience, and be reminded that our own most personal truth can be recognized in the unlikeliest of places. Each time an artist takes the stage, it’s an invitation to make a connection. PostSecret reminds us that the act of sharing a secret, on an anonymous postcard or in front of a crowd, is just another kind of invitation to connect, another door being thrown open.

Inspired by PostSecret, we’ve been collecting anonymous answers to the question, What’s the Boldest Thing You’ve Ever Done? Hundreds of cards were dropped into collection boxes across campus over the last few months. They are on display tonight in the lobby. Some, no doubt, carry secrets. All of them help us to see someone else’s life through their own eyes.

We hope you’ll share your boldest moment, public or private, by submitting your own card before you leave tonight.

We’re honored to have Frank Warren here, and to share this evening of insight and discovery with you. Thanks for being here, and for bringing your curiosity and your compassion.

We hope you leave with a new door open.

Sussan Deyhim: THE HOUSE IS BLACK–Royce Hall Jan. 23, 2015

(Unsigned editorial from the performance program notes).

It has been a profound privilege and honor to collaborate with and support Sussan Deyhim since the very early stages of this incredible work. Sussan was in residence at CAP UCLA with The House is Black last year and tonight’s world premiere is a culmination of energy, creative spirit and integrity of purpose.

The making of a work like this has been in the hands of many believers–the people and organizations and fellow artists who believe in the importance of the story Sussan is so committed to sharing with us all, who believe in shining a light on the infl uence of a great writer and artist who came before and whose voice has been all-too-silent in the contemporary arts world.

For three years now, we at the Center have been asking the question “Who is the Poet in Your Life?” The answers are as varied as the people who supply them, and our work and lives have been enriched through this exploration. Thanks to Sussan, Forough Farrokhzad herself has become an answer to that question for us. We welcome you here tonight to celebrate her contributions to the world of art, and to celebrate the tenacity, intention and great talent of Sussan Deyhim, who will continue to bring the work of Forough to so many. We hope you leave here with a poem from our live Poetry Bureau in the West Lobby where we will attempt to capture the great power of language through a few thoughtfully typed verses.

And we hope you leave here tonight able to more deftly ponder and answer the question: Who is the Poet in Your Life?

Tonight we all become part of a living, breathing, ongoing exhibition. Our memories and experiences here tonight are what creates a permanent collection of this ephemeral art form. We become the keepers of this moment in time and this tribute to two powerful boundary-defying artists.

Little Explosions

“I’m very excessive. I move and move and move.”

Louise Lecavalier told us this with a laugh this during her post-performance Q&A January 16.

We had just witnessed this fact for ourselves as we watched her perform So Blue–half solo/half duet and all energy. It was only her second performance in the states in 20 years.  The first was in 2011 at Jacob’s pillow performing “A Few Minutes of Locke,” recalling her past iconic days as lead dancer for La La La Human Steps.

That’s not nearly enough Louise for us, nor obviously for the rapt audience who attended her performance and stayed after to hear the incredible performer talk about So Blue, her first piece of choreography in its U.S. debut.

Like onstage, she held nothing back, talking about the curiosities and challenges she encountered as she developed the work, learning quickly that it would be “too stressful to improvise an entire performance on stage”—which was an early idea.

She talked about the evolution of the work to include her solo element and then add a partner Frédéric Tavernini whose  energy she describes as much calmer than her own, which made them an excellent match for the piece.

There is an intensity to Louise as performer that belies her delightful rapid-fire and playfully lighthearted spoken demeanor, accentuated by a lilting Québécois accent. She often looks directly at the audience when she dances. “I like to address people,”she said.

She begins So Blue by sitting on stage in warm up clothes, observing the audience enter, creating a sort of “backstage moment” as the audience “enters my world,” she said. “I like this moment very much,” she said. “It’s very precious.”

And then she begins, her body, and movement as she described it, and as we certainly witnessed) is full of “little explosions” of sometimes wild repetitive movements that seems to burst forth from her form, simultaneously propelling her along and yet somehow also perfectly at her command.

At one point, the explosions stop completely and Louise, facing the audience, languidly draws her legs into the air for an extended headstand. It is completely silent except for the sound of her breathing. I felt my own heart rate pace itself to the heavy rise and fall of her rib cage.

Someone asked how she keeps such strength and calm during that epic headstand.

“Well,” she said. “It’s…..practice,” drawing laughter and laughing herself.

“In this moment, this calm happens,” she continued. “Although I am very tired, the calm always happens. I don’t know if I am making it happen or the audience is, but I am suspended in it”

An incredibly generous artist, Louise wrought a ripple of little explosions in the UCLA community during her time here. She worked with a groups of dance students in master class and inspired a large class of non-arts majors in a lecture-workshop that invited them to move their own bodies.

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this rare U.S. appearance from this extraordinary performer. Hopefully we will see much more of her in the future.

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An Evening with Gregory Porter– Royce Hall Jan. 17, 2015

(Unsigned editorial from the evening’s program notes).

Tonight is about soul and passion. The soul and passion of one artist as he transmits it to those of us here to bear witness; the soul and passion inherent in the blues, soul and jazz forms he so deftly inhabits; and the soul and passion that we as listeners, seekers and music lovers simultaneously bring to and extract from this space that has held so much of it over the decades.

We believe music is an essential part of the human experience.

Music perpetuates one of the most accessible rabbit holes in the art of performance. Throughout our lives, we will discover a sound or a song or a voice that resonates with us and dive deeper into it, uncover the influences behind the artist who created it, revel in other artists and forms and vibrations that emanate from it and evolve with it. And through all this we are expanding and enhancing our own experience.

Music is, indeed, essential.

Gregory Porter, over the last several years, has become an essential figure in the art of jazz performance. His third album, Liquid Skin, which you can read more about in the interview/bio enclosed in the program notes, earned him a Grammy, after being nominated for his first two albums. He was quickly recognized by his peers as a force to be reckoned with in jazz and is increasingly beloved by audiences worldwide. He is an imposing figure both literally and metaphorically, with a soul and passion to match his commanding stage presence.

As the New York Times put it in a recent review of a live performance in Porter’s home city: “Working from outer form to inner heart, Mr. Porter’s music is jazz via Oscar Brown Jr. and Nat King Cole; R&B via Ray Charles; thinky and poetic mid-’70s R&B, via
Marvin Gaye and Gil Scott-Heron; and then gospel, not as theology but as emotional policy, as devotion safeguarding against chaos.”

We are extremely proud to present this exceptional performer in Royce Hall.

Thank you for being with us.

Louise Lecavalier Fou Glorieux: SO BLUE–Royce Hall Jan. 16, 2015

(Unsigned editorial from the performance program notes)

“Energy brings energy,” Louise Lecavalier said, when asked about the work and stamina required to create and perform a dance work, recalling her years working with Edouard Locke of La La La Human Steps.

Tonight, you become the first American audiences to witness the first work of choreography from a woman who has already made an unmistakable mark in contemporary dance. So Blue stands alone as a compelling piece of work in the art of performance, but it also marks an important milestone in the life of an artist—an artist who has given so much and inspired so many.

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s you may have seen her whirling across the stage in jaw-dropping barrel rolls, her long blond locks whipping along as she practically levitated parallel to the stage.

She dominates, she relents as she makes shapes in the air and she elevates the heart rate of all who witness.

As you might guess, we are deeply honored and greatly excited to be the first presenter in the U.S. to shine a much deserved
spotlight on this exceptional performer at an exciting and critical point in the trajectory of her artistic life.

As our executive and artistic director Kristy Edmunds puts it: “Louse is a force of nature and an utterly unique presence in contemporary dance.”

One of our rallying cries this season has been “The Body is Beautiful. Get Used to It.” You’ve likely seen our banners or flyers singing out this message—it is a truism that applies not only to the art of dance, but to the art of living.

What a privilege it is to have a body, to possess physical strength and vitality. And what a privilege it is to witness an artist like Louise Lecavalier who, with tenacity and tenderness, great prowess and graceful creative intellect, shows us time and again, just how beautiful the body is and what it is capable of.

We thank you for bringing your own energy to this hall tonight, in honor of this indomitable artist. Energy begets energy. We feel it when you bring it, the artists on stage feel it, and we share it here together. That’s what it’s all about.

Please linger with us after the performance as we toast Louise and hear more about her creative process. Thank you for helping us welcome her to Los Angeles.

Edmunds, ‘Isms’ and Ideas to Ponder

If you’ve spent much time with Kristy Edmunds, our artistic and executive director, you’ve obviously witnessed first-hand her charm and eloquence. Put simply, lady has a way with words, you know? (Yeah, you know.)

This is why she’s often asked to speak on panels and at confabs and gatherings around the country, most recently yesterday morning delivering the keynote at New York Public Theater’s annual Under the Radar Festival.

You can watch the whole speech here.

She was her usual articulate and engaging self, but she shared a story I hadn’t heard from her before.

Working daily with Kristy, we get a front row seat to her rigorous mind, attention, curious nature and there are some sentiments and phrases that come to bear often in conversations with her. These are not glib catchphrases, or simply “isms,” though. They are things she repeats often because they are deeply held core values. They are integral to how she does what she does and how she seeks to impart and explain her process and ideas to others. If you’ve spent much time with her, you’ve likely heard her talk about “persistence of vision,” “integrity of purpose,” “expanding the fence line of the familiar” and an expressed commitment to providing “a safe harbor for unsafe ideas.”

One of the themes of her speech yesterday took another compelling ideological tack—“evidence of care.”

In the aforementioned story she shared with the New York theater maker audience, she spoke about a time in her youth in the Pacific Northwest, when she was taught how to properly pluck an apple from a tree—harvesting the ripe fruit but leaving behind exactly everything the tree would need to flower again. This is a clear and lovely metaphor, I think.

Obviously, when it came to apple-plucking, there was an endgame, an outcome at hand—get the apple.

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(Image by Photo Dean)

But, also, the how of the getting the apple held as much import as the final goal. In fact, the how of it, was part of the final goal–the leaving behind an evidence of care that physically allows the tree to continue to bear fruit and thrive. I like metaphors, but I like this apple tree one in particular, because I often jokingly call Kristy’s approach to life and human contact “Johnny Appleseeding.” She plants seeds of thought and inspiration wherever she goes, so the apple imagery is especially appealing to me. (And is what inspired me to write this piece).

At any rate, this concept of evidence of care is increasingly important in the arts. So many times, a work, an idea, an artist is at a precarious place and it takes a cadre of individuals devoted to it to bring it to healthful and robust expression.

It also makes me think about something my yoga teacher often says: “How you do anything, is how you do everything.” And that’s not to say that you’re stuck because you typically do something a certain way. It means you can choose to show up for any given situation in a way that is abounding in care and intent. And your approach, your intent, can serve as template for how you choose to show up for all things. And that approach and intent not only serves the desired outcome, but serves a purpose in and of itself.

This apple-tree metaphor also makes me think of the idea that there are two ways to grow and thrive—you can seek to hive off a larger portion of any given pie/market/audience share/tree/etc for yourself alone, or you can seek to grow the pie or hearten the tree for everyone. It’s probably pretty clear which method we believe is most beneficial to a thriving arts economy and community.

And it’s community that helps us leave behind our greatest evidence of care.

We see evidence of care in our most passionate community, our members– and particularly our Board Members. Every time a CAP UCLA member shares an idea with us, shares a note with a friend about us, writes a check to us, attends a meeting, plans an event, hosts an artist in their home, attends a performance, they leave behind an evidence of care that keeps us thriving in so many ways.

I’m not sure you all know just how delighted we are to see your faces again and again at the performances. You bring yourselves to this place so often, and with such curiosity and attention, and we know we are not the only local purveyor and protector of arts that you care about or are passionate about. We know how often you are doubling up and tripling up on a performance weekend.

You are a big part of the larger footprint that we are attempting to create, deepen and leave behind in this city.  And we know you’re out there doing your own ‘Johnny Appleseeding’ on our behalf. It doesn’t go unnoticed even as we are basement-bound and furiously focused on our own specific patch of seedlings at any given moment.

It’s good to pause every now and then to think about not only what we are trying to accomplish together, each in our own particular ways, but also to appreciate how we’re all doing what we’re doing and be grateful for one another.

So as the New Year begins, we thank all our members and Board Members for the care they have already brought to this season and are looking forward to more to come.

Here also is a little more video fodder for Kristy-isms and ideas that help examine and how she does what she does and, by extension, how we all do what we do. Kristy has been serving as “Catalyst in Residence” for the Pew Center for Arts and Heritage in Philadelphia over the last year or so and participated in several conferences and events there.

Watch, listen, enjoy, share…and here’s to much much more to come.

 

Just Curious…More Curious? (Stay Curious)

Happy New Year! As we launch ourselves back into the art of performance, I am thinking about curiosity and how important it is to be curious creatures.

One of the underpinnings of what we do here is informed by a sense of curiosity, both our presenting curiosity as a curatorial entity but also as a Center that seeks to create a safe space and fertile playground to discover what artists and makers are curious about—and in turn to inspire curiosity in the students, audience goers, patrons, art makers, thinkers, inventors, creators and researchers who surround us as they matriculate, educate and encounter new ideas on this campus or as they visit this institution by attending our programs.

Kristy Edmunds, our director, last year filled in for longtime UCLA arts professor and theater director Peter Sellars, teaching his class titled “Art as Moral Action.” It is a class in UCLA’s World Arts and Cultures department, but one that is taken by students from multiple disciplines in the arts  and other studies. Kristy often talks about her time teaching this class. And given that she is one of the most curious humans around, she often queried her students of the time about their relationship to the arts, seeking to discover what made them curious about the world beyond their personal and projected studies.

What Kristy discovered and what we continue to discover as we work with and amid students, is a sense that students do not feel like they can afford to be curious. Literally. With the costs of an education rising every year, they move through their course of study with a laser focus on the classes required for their particular degree. There’s often no time or funds to spare on a meandering elective course like “Tudor England” or “Early Women Writers,” like yours truly was lucky enough to somehow fit in alongside the requirements for a Journalism Degree 15 years ago.

The ability to be curious today can be a precious commodity. When it comes to helping students at UCLA explore their curiosity in the arts, we sometimes find ourselves with limited access to their time and attention,  a fact all parties lament–which is why we are continually investing in ways to integrate artists and our program into the college experience and curriculum on this campus.

We think curiosity is an essential part of the University experience. It is an essential part of the human experience. Curiousness, whether it’s about a thing, a person, a time in history or a place in the world, is the precursor to understanding and to empathy. And understanding and empathy are the things that inspire human beings, on an interpersonal and societal level, to collectively move forward toward goals that are more aligned than combative. Curiosity, understanding and empathy are things we cannot have too much of.

And art, in all its vibrant shapes, sounds, colors, themes, its oddities and collaborations is one of the greatest instigators of curiosity.

In the spirit of curiosity, I thought I would share a few interesting tidbits about the artists visiting us this month that will hopefully pique your curiosity.

LOUISE LECAVALIER (JAN 16)

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DID YOU KNOW…..that for nearly 20 years Louise was the principal dancer and muse for La La La Human Steps, a thrilling and innovative dance troupe from her home base of Montreal? This brought her center stage with pop icon David Bowie often and she also performed in one of Frank Zappa’s final concerts.

ALSO… “So Blue,” the work we are presenting, is the first piece she ever choreographed, for herself. She’s in her 50s now, but her body hasn’t slowed down on her. She holds an epic headstand in the piece that will have all our abdominal muscles shaking.

GREGORY PORTER  ( JAN 17)

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DID YOU KNOW….Porter was born in Los Angeles, raised in Bakersfield and originally went to college in San Diego on a football scholarship. Though he calls Brooklyn home now, California will always have a soft spot for this soulful vocalist.

SUSSAN DEYHIM (JAN 23)

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DID YOU KNOW…Sussan, who is known amid Hollywood as an incredible vocalist and composer whose voice has been featured on such major motion pictures as “Argo,” “The Kite Runner” and “The Last Temptation of Christ” studied dance and performance in the late 1970s with the notable French choreographer, dancer and opera director Maurice Béjart at his Mudra School in Brussels.

FRANK WARREN ‘POSTSECRET LIVE’ JAN 28

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DID YOU KNOW….Frank is not only the creator of one of the most successful blogs in the world, one that inspires people to share anonymous secrets, he also volunteers for the Suicide Prevention Hotline 1(800)SUICIDE, for which PostSecret has helped raise more than $500,000. In 2006, Warren was presented a special award from the National Mental Health Association in recognition of how PostSecret has “moved the cause of mental health forward.”

ALSO…during PostSecret Live events things can get not-so-anonymous. Frank invites the audience to share secrets live in front of each other and says that far from being a tough sell, it is often the most funny, poignant and special moments of the night.

Bring your secrets, bring your curiosity. We’re ready for more creative ways of looking at the world in 2015.

Stay curious my friends!

Thoughts from the staff of CAP UCLA