Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, relationships, grooming and more in a weekly dialogue.
CP: Glitter and be gay. That could be the guiding principle behind all these fun-filled years of Ballet of the Dolls. Having seen our umpteenth Dolls' "Nutcracker" last night, can we talk?
RN: I worship the water the Dolls walk on. So much so that I sat on their board in the late '90s.
CP: The Dolls are a local treasure. They don't tour. They don't seek engagements at the Joyce, or New York reviews, or berths on the Jacob's Pillow summer schedule. After 22 years, they still operate on modest budgets, low overhead, the unique sensibility of founder Myron Johnson and a corps of wonderful dancers. They are like a beautiful, tough, night-blooming weed that sprang to life in Loring Park and now flowers regularly in northeast Minneapolis.
RN: What I've always appreciated about the Dolls is their ability to craft something out of nothing. Literally. In the early years, I think Myron & Co. put together thrilling shows for about a buck-fifty.
CP: Even now they thank Ragstock in the program. What makes the Dolls the Dolls? Is it Myron? Or the dancers? Sometimes I wonder how much of it is the music. They always have great music.
RN: Yeah, Myron has an incredible ear. I'd love to download his iPod playlists. He has such a wicked sense of humor too. Remember his brill disco "Giselle"? At the moment when Giselle discovered her lover's betrayal, and the music segued into the first few bars of Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand oohing their way into "Enough is Enough," well, I almost wet my pants. Oh, and remember that one-man show of his? So moving, and beautiful and hilarious. I saw it four times. Somehow I got a bootleg cassette of the show's music, and I played it until the dang thing wore out.
CP: Johnson is justly famed for his use of disco and popular music, but he also has worked wonderfully with music of other eras and genres. His "Country Cabaret" earlier this year had a long first act that was danced to vintage Cajun tunes by the Hoffpauir Family, as well as little-known but gorgeous Creole and zydeco music. Of course, he let loose in the second half with big-hair Nashville and Opry chart-toppers.
RN: No one does more with wigs than the Dolls. 'Course, we don't have to talk about the occasional BOTD turkey.
CP: Can you spell "Barbarella"?
RN: Don't remind me. But that's OK, because another trait of Myron's that I admire is his restlessness. He's so prolific. With few exceptions, he's not interested in reviving past hits, he's always moving ahead, taking new chances. He can do serious -- AIDS, Sartre, Czech composer Jan Jirasek in a gorgeous collaboration with what is now VocalEssence -- and then turn around and stage a fabulously sick cross-pollination of "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" and "Swan Lake." Oh, and then there was "Hello, Dali!" In the title role, longtime Doll Robert Skafte was never better.
CP: I really enjoy the staying power and dedication of his dancers. I feel very sentimental about them. Zhauna Franks remains a hilarious character dancer. I still delight in the "Nutcracker's" Ken doll as played by Michael de Leon.
RN: The company is the dance version of the Island of Misfit Toys. There are the tall, willowy types, sure -- Heather Cadigan, who, if she doesn't already, really should hold the title of the Twin Cities' Best Body -- but Myron's aesthetic more than makes room for the short, the kinda stout, the super-skinny. And the not-so-young: Dolls mainstay Stephanie Karr Smith is pushing 50, but in the "Nutcracker" she convincingly plays a prepubescent girl. Oh, and Myron knows his dancers. Look at that 10,000-watt "Nutcracker" seduction scene he choreographed for the ravishing Stephanie Fellner. It fit her like a pair of sheer black stockings and a thong. Oh wait, that was her costume.
CP: Woman tore through 12 outfits, all crafted from a single yard of gauzy tulle.
RN: I'm happy to see that the Dolls have found a wider audience; everyone deserves to revel in the glory that is Zhauna Franks. The Dolls used to draw a fairly underground crowd. Last night the audience was positively Bloomington Civic. I think it says something about the Dolls that they're the first Twin Cities dance company to have their own permanent home. I love the Ritz, partly because I know how difficult it was for a whole bunch of people to make that place a reality. They have my everlasting gratitude.
CP: This is très boring, but for once I'm in total agreement. Seeing the Ritz sold out was a heaping helping of Glad Tidings.
Click on W.G.'s weekly podcast at www.startribune.com/withering. E-mail W.G. at witheringglance@startribune.com.
