The open pastures of performance are becoming a landscape strewn with celluloid. The advances and influence of media in general, and cinema in particular, have pointed out that dance, theater, and performance art are all situated over a geological fault line, and Hollywood is seeping through the fissures in the bedrock.

Claude Wampler’s Performance (career ender) is one of those shows that comes along every once in a great while and makes you reassess the whole nature and purpose of performance. It is as aesthetically and experientially provocative as it is grounded in performance and media theory. It’s the stuff of dissertations.

The European Dream Festival was a welcome hiccup to New York City’s circadian rhythm. ...

Last summer the dance world was set ablaze when Tere O’Connor sent an oil-soaked letter to The New Yorker.