Word: space
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...really big trouble now. I have to fill all this space, but there are no sporting events in Cambridge this weekend. I could tell you about everything that has happened to me in the past week, but I'm sure someone else will take care of that when they write my biography, or at least a short novel on my life...
...rueful: "I try to skip over that period." In 1967 Hundley left for private practice, gradually building a solid six-figure income in partnership with former Justice Department Colleague Plato Cacheris. Their old boss, onetime Criminal Division Chief Henry Petersen, who was badly tarnished by Watergate, shares office space with them. Says a friend: "They had talked about it before Watergate, and Bill wouldn't go back on his word after Henry was muddied...
...avant-garde master Merce Cunningham and his company in performances at Boston English High School last week. The four bunches of sacks which initially define the peripheries of movement become tongue-in-cheek metaphors for the dancers' own bodies. The sacks are whirled or swung or tossed through space; Cunningham himself falls dead-weight on a group of dancers and is dragged across the floor like a sack; later, he is tossed up and down between two dancers the way two children would flip an unwieldy pillow. There is no hint of moral implication or sociological statement in Cunningham...
...discerned with a painstaking and endlessly refreshing eye. Like a painter absorbed in something as slight as the fall of light on a glass jar, Cunningham is fascinated by the eloquent detail: a dancer's leg arcing upward like a searchlight against the sky, the drift of weight in space when the body leans slowly backwards, dancers bounding across the stage like stones skipped across water. The patterns aren't only visual, either: in one dance, "Torse," where there was very little sound accompaniment, Cunningham created a whole aural superstructure from the rhythmic thuds of the dancers' feet...
...third dance performed last week, "Fractions," luxuriates in interaction of weight and air in a velvet-soft ballon. A girl in pale green dips and winds through a solo of airy spirals, one leg curling repeatedly knee-first across her body, bobbing down and swinging out; dancers flicker through space in springboard leaps and swallow swoops; a man and a woman move in an effortless duet, their legs and arms unfurling like a sea-plant swayed by the current...