Yesterday, we went to the art museum. Driving to the DeMun neighborhood, we first had lunch at Barrio. Then we walked from there to the museum. The day’s weather was excellent, warm, almost eighty. Inside the museum, we immediately saw the Kiefer exhibit or at least part of it. It is a large show. Measured not only by the billboard size of its paintings, but also by the acreage of its display space. In addition to the original main hall, it is also using almost all of the new modern art wing. It makes a statement. The adage, size matters, seems to be its mantra. One that it is content to beat you over the head with. Anne liked the show, but I am less certain. I found much of his artwork too dark and foreboding. 

But wait there’s more. Last night, we attended a Dance St. Louis concert at the Touhill. Joanie and Anne are season ticket holders and once a season Dance STL (as they now like to be called) rewards their subscribers with a free ticket. Like last season, Anne invited me with her extra ticket and Joanie invited her knitting friend, Eileen. Last season’s show was Memphis’s College Dance Collective, who won my heart with a dance performed to a recorded Dean Martin singing That’s Amore. It was performed by a single African American dancer who wore only a dance belt (look it up). What endeared me was that just the day before I had been called out in Gyrotonics for wearing a t-shirt that rode up and exposed my butt crack.  When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.

Last night’s show kicked off Dance STL’s 60th season, a milestone to be sure. The performance was by American Ballet Theater Studio Company, ABT’s farm team. We were in the cheap seats, the UMSL student section, where fellow spectators would burst into applause at the drop of a hat or a pause of a step. JV or not the performers were good. They performed mainly classical ballet. An exception was Cornbread by Twyla Tharp, a hat tip to us in flyover country.