Merce

by tristero

Merce Cunningham died Sunday. He was a truly great artist, a giant, a genius of the highest order. Like Bach, he took formal ideas of a daunting complexity and made them seem like child’s play. But that was hardly all. Like Bach, and like few other artists, Merce had the rare, uncanny ability to infuse his explorations of form and structure with the deepest emotional meaning; I found myself crying more than once at a Merce concert, and always left exhilarated, renewed, filled with the possibilities of art.

To watch Merce dance was a great thing. He was the most graceful man I’ve ever seen. His company, right up to the end of his life, was exceptionally well-trained and rehearsed. A recent performance was so spectacular it put the far better funded ballet companies to shame.

Merce, thank you for so many memorable dances and such implacable devotion to the highest artistic achievement. I already miss you terribly.