It's that time of year again: my top nine of 2009, in honor of the last of the single digit years that many of us will ever see. The good, the bad, the inane.
1. Most Asinine Essay: Many candidates here. I probably contributed several myself. But the winner goes to Michael Kaiser's misguided, out-of-touch Huff Post lament, Why I Worry About Modern Dance.
2. Best Theatrical Experience: Target Margin Theater's production of Gertrude Stein's A Family of Perhaps Three. It also prompted one of my favorite P. Club comments. Thanks, Chance: "I am always loving Gertie Stein yes always and further loving the word the word is spoken and I think Stein was doing it and speaking of the now yes always now now. I am always loving Gertie Stein yes always and further loving the word the word is spoken and I think Stein was doing it and speaking of the now yes always now now."
3. Worst Loss: Merce Cunningham
4. Best Exit Strategy: Merce is dead; long live his dances.
5. Best Impersonation of a Soap Opera by a Real Opera: Or should it read best impersonation of a real opera by a soap opera? In any case, as if there were any doubt: New York City Opera!
6. Most Desperately I Have Ever Wanted Off a Bus: The Foundry Theater's "Provenance of Beauty."
7. Most Ecstatically High-Level Season: Carla Peterson's Dance Theater Workshop lineup has been revelatory. And it's only half finished.
8. Most amusing performance artist-celebrity confrontation: Getting into P.S. 122 to see "Why Won't You Let Me Be Great!!!." Watching Kanye West's face while he watched Ann Liv Young smear raw pork on her nether regions (after insulting his album) because that's what Love Lockdown made her feel like? Priceless. (Perhaps I'm biased here, as Ms. Young later in the show's run stuffed a makeup bottle up those same regions as, er, a tribute to my critical faculties. But still.)
9. Best Anniversary: Ours! The P. Club is now officially one year old. Who woulda thunk?