Watch a 20-Year-Old Mikhail Baryshnikov Win Gold in One of His Earliest Performances (1969)

How well does Mikhail Barysh­nikov dance? The ques­tion answers itself, giv­en that the very word “Barysh­nikov” has come to sig­ni­fy the mas­tery of that art, and espe­cial­ly of male roles in bal­let. Yet there was once a time when no young dancer aspired to become the next Barysh­nikov, because even Barysh­nikov had­n’t yet become Barysh­nikov. Born in Latvia to a dress­mak­er moth­er and an engi­neer father, he began study­ing bal­let in 1960, at age eleven. Four years lat­er, he entered the Vagano­va Acad­e­my of Russ­ian Bal­let, from which he went on to win the ven­er­a­ble Var­na Inter­na­tion­al Bal­let Com­pe­ti­tion and, in 1967, join the Kirov Bal­let and Marin­sky The­ater.

The clip at the top of the post shows Barysh­nikov’s per­for­mance at the 1969 Moscow Inter­na­tion­al Bal­let Com­pe­ti­tion, from which he came out, along­side oth­er such soon-to-be big bal­let names as Nina Soroki­na and Mali­ka Sabiro­va, as a gold lau­re­ate.

“Barysh­nikov’s tech­nique is fault­less, his inter­pre­ta­tion mag­nif­i­cent,” says the announc­er as the still ten­der-aged dancer, just twen­ty years old, exe­cutes a solo from La Bayadère. The praise would, from that point on, keep on com­ing, and not just from the Sovi­et Union; around the same time, New York Times crit­ic Clive Barnes called Barysh­nikov “the most per­fect dancer I have ever seen.”

Yet for all his skill, Barysh­nikov did­n’t fit the tra­di­tion­al bal­let tem­plate: he lacked the height of oth­er famous male dancers, for one, and he also har­bored a desire to go beyond the bound­aries of 19th-cen­tu­ry dance and explore 20th-cen­tu­ry dance’s pos­si­bil­i­ties for inno­va­tion. His defec­tion from the Sovi­et Union in 1974 made it pos­si­ble for him to work with for­ward-think­ing chore­o­g­ra­phers like Alvin Ailey and Twyla Tharp, and to this day, in his mid-60s, he con­tin­ues push­ing his per­for­ma­tive bound­aries on the stage and the screen. Whether the 20-year-old dancer we see here could pos­si­bly have imag­ined such a future for him­self — a future involv­ing projects like his role on Sex and the City in the 2000s and his much-viewed video with Lil Buck for Rag & Bone last year — only Barysh­nikov knows.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bal­let in Super Slow Motion

Bal­let Dancers Do Their Hard­est Moves in Slow Motion

Watch an Avant-Garde Bauhaus Bal­let in Bril­liant Col­or, the Tri­adic Bal­let First Staged by Oskar Schlem­mer in 1922

Google Gives You a 360° View of the Per­form­ing Arts, From the Roy­al Shake­speare Com­pa­ny to the Paris Opera Bal­let

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

1944 Instructional Video Teaches You the Lindy Hop, the Dance That Originated in 1920’s Harlem Ballrooms

1944’s MGM short Groovie Movie, abovebills itself as an instruc­tion­al film for those wish­ing to learn the Lindy Hop and its extreme­ly close cousin, the Jit­ter­bug.

The edu­ca­tion­al mod­el here is def­i­nite­ly of the “toss ‘em in the pool and see if they swim” vari­ety.

The eas­i­ly frus­trat­ed are advised to seek out a calm and patient teacher, will­ing to break the foot­work down into a num­ber of small, eas­i­ly digestible lessons.

Or bet­ter yet, find some­one to teach you in per­son. We’re about 20 years into a swing dance revival, and with a bit of Googling, you should be able to find an ath­let­ic young teacher who can school you in the dance pop­u­lar­ized by Frankie “Mus­cle­head” Man­ning and his part­ner Fre­da Wash­ing­ton at Harlem’s Savoy ball­room.

Speak­ing of teach­ers, you might rec­og­nize Arthur “King Cat” Walsh, the “top flight hep cat” star of Groovie Movie, as the fel­low who was brought in to teach I Love Lucy’s Lucy Ricar­do how to boo­gie woo­gie.

He’s got more chem­istry with his Groovie Movie part­ner, Jean Veloz. Backed by Lenny Smith, Kay Vaughn, Irene Thomas, Chuck Sag­gau, and sev­er­al tal­ent­ed kid­dies, they quick­ly achieve an aston­ish­ing­ly man­ic inten­si­ty as nar­ra­tor Pete Smith barks out a host of jazzy lin­go. (Here­in, lays the tru­ly sol­id instruc­tion. The atti­tude!)

Smith also heps view­ers to a few of the influ­ences at work, includ­ing bal­let, tra­di­tion­al Javanese dance, and even the “gay old waltz.” Sad­ly, he fails to men­tion the Harlem ball­room scene from whence it most direct­ly sprung.

At least Whitey’s Lindy Hop­pers, a pro­fes­sion­al troop drawn from the Savoy’s most skilled prac­ti­tion­ers, got their due in the 1941 film, Hel­lza­pop­pin’, below. Again, aston­ish­ing!

Okay, worms, let’s squirm.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

James Brown Gives You Danc­ing Lessons: From The Funky Chick­en to The Booga­loo

Rita Hay­worth, 1940s Hol­ly­wood Icon, Dances Dis­co to the Tune of The Bee Gees Stayin’ Alive: A Mashup

Jazz ‘Hot’: The Rare 1938 Short Film With Jazz Leg­end Djan­go Rein­hardt

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Her play Zam­boni Godot is open­ing in New York City in March 2017. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Largest Ever Tribute to Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights” Choreographed by a Flashmob in Berlin

When I’m feel­ing depressed or unin­spired, I can always count on one of my favorite vision­ary musi­cians to remind me just how much wild weird­ness and unex­pect­ed beau­ty the world con­tains. That per­son is Kate Bush, and for all of her many bril­liant songs—too many to name—the touch­stone for true fans will always be her first sin­gle, “Wuther­ing Heights,” writ­ten when she was only 16, record­ed two years lat­er, and turned into two aston­ish­ing videos. The first, UK ver­sion does Kate’s ethe­re­al strange­ness jus­tice, with­out a doubt, plac­ing her on a dark stage, in flow­ing white gown, fog machine at her feet, show­cas­ing her idio­syn­crat­ic dance moves with sev­er­al dou­ble-expo­sure ver­sions of her­self. All very Kate, but we’d seen this kind of thing before, if only at the meet­ings of our high school dra­ma club.

It real­ly wasn’t until the sec­ond, U.S. video’s release that audi­ences ful­ly grasped the unique­ness of her genius. In this ver­sion, above, the young prodigy—who trained, by the way, with David Bowie’s mime and dance teacher Lind­say Kemp—appears in a flow­ing, Bohemi­an red gown, match­ing tights, and black belt, haunt­ing a “wiley, windy” moor like Cather­ine Earn­shaw, the doomed hero­ine of Emi­ly Brontë’s nov­el.

Every­thing about this: the flow­ers in her hair, the edit­ing tricks that have her fad­ing in and out of the shot like a ghost, and most espe­cial­ly the ful­ly unin­hib­it­ed dance moves—not con­fined this time to the bound­aries of a stage (which could nev­er con­tain her any­way)…. It’s per­fect, the very acme of melo­dra­mat­ic the­atri­cal­i­ty, and sim­ply could not be improved upon in any pos­si­ble way.

And so when fans seek to pay trib­ute to Kate Bush, they invari­ably call back to this video. In 2013, Kate Bush par­o­dy troupe Sham­bush! orga­nized a group dance in Brighton, with 300 eager fans in red dress­es and wigs, each one doing their best Kate Bush impres­sion in a syn­chro­nized com­e­dy homage. This year, on July 16th,  a flash­mob gath­ered in Berlin’s Tem­pel­hof Field for “The Most Wuther­ing Heights Day Ever,” break­ing the Sham­bush! record for most Kate Bush-attired danc­ing fans in one place. See them at the top of the post. Oth­er flash­mobs assem­bled around the world as well, in Lon­don, Welling­ton, Syd­ney, Ade­laide, Mel­bourne, and else­where, reports Ger­man site Ton­s­pion. Mel­bourne, it seems put on a par­tic­u­lar­ly “strong show­ing of Bush-mania” (watch it above), accord­ing to Elec­tron­ic Beats, who also sug­gest that next year the orga­niz­ers “switch it up and find a good for­est for a ‘The Sen­su­al World’ flash­mob.” That is indeed a stun­ning video, and it’s very hard to choose a favorite among Bush’s many visu­al mas­ter­pieces, but I’d like to see them try the wartime chore­og­ra­phy of “Army Dream­ers” next.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

300 Kate Bush Imper­son­ators Pay Trib­ute to Kate Bush’s Icon­ic “Wuther­ing Heights” Video

Kate Bush’s First Ever Tele­vi­sion Appear­ance, Per­form­ing “Kite” & “Wuther­ing Heights” on Ger­man TV (1978)

2009 Kate Bush Doc­u­men­tary Dubs Her “Queen of British Pop”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Stephen Fry Hates Dancing: Watch Fry’s Rant Against Dancing Get Turned into a Wonderful Interpretative Dance

Danc­ing, says Stephen Fry in a vehe­ment dia­tribe, is “not so much an accom­plish­ment as an afflic­tion.” He deliv­ers this pro­nounce­ment against danc­ing in one of his “pod­grams,” as he calls them, pod­casts in which the actor/writer/comedian/media per­son­al­i­ty rants, rhap­sodizes, and ram­bles on about his favorite—and least favorite—subjects. Danc­ing falls so far afoul of Stephen Fry that he devotes near­ly an entire episode to his hatred of this uni­ver­sal form of human phys­i­cal expres­sion.

“I hate doing it myself,” he begins, “which I can’t do any­way, but I loathe and detest the neces­si­ty to try.” He would deny oth­ers the plea­sure as well, at least in his com­pa­ny, of “that sloven­ly mix­ture of sex­u­al exhi­bi­tion­ism, strut­ting con­tempt, and repel­lant nar­cis­sism.” Is Fry a dance snob? Does he hate pop­u­lar dance but love ball­room and bal­let? No. “I hate it when it’s form­less, mean­ing­less bop­ping,” he seethes, “and I hate it even more when it’s for­mal and chore­o­graphed into gen­res like ball­room and schooled dis­co. Those cavort­ings are so embar­rass­ing and dread­ful as to force my hand to my mouth.”

We get it, Stephen, give it a rest! But no, he isn’t done. He goes on, for eleven whole min­utes, in the anti-danc­ing harangue above, excerpt­ed from his “Bored of the Dance.” How could one pos­si­bly respond to such a tor­rent of dis­gust and dis­dain? By danc­ing to it, of course. In the video at the top of the post, that’s exact­ly what L.A.-based dancer and film­mak­er Jo Roy does, for near­ly two and half minutes—enough time, I’m sure, to make Stephen Fry die of embar­rass­ment.

Maybe Fry has the good humor to appre­ci­ate this offen­sive rejoin­der, but I doubt he could stand to watch Roy twist, twirl, hop, pop, lock, and ges­ture expres­sive­ly to his vicious attack on the dance.

But there’s much more to Fry’s hatred of dance than cur­mud­geon­ly prud­ery. His anti-danc­ing man­i­festo is almost a digres­sion, real­ly, in the scope of his longer “pod­gram,” which you can read in full at his web­site. What he’s get­ting at is why he prefers clas­si­cal music to modern—and it is not, he insists, because of snob­bery, but because pop­u­lar music—“country, blues, rock and roll, gospel, zyde­co, jazz, swing, Tin Pan Alley, roots, blue­grass, hill­bil­ly… funk, soul, mo’town, rap, hip-hop, house, R and B”—is dance music. And Stephen Fry hates danc­ing. He is “aller­gic” to danc­ing.

“Clas­si­cal music,” on the oth­er hand, he says, “is there to be lis­tened to. It doesn’t make it bet­ter. I real­ly, real­ly mean that I do not believe that it makes it bet­ter, and I despise the snob­bery and igno­rance that is con­vinced oth­er­wise. But it does make it bet­ter suit­ed to Stephens.” As he says, quot­ing Riv­er Phoenix’s char­ac­ter in Sid­ney Lumet’s Run­ning on Emp­ty, “You can’t dance to Beethoven.” And that’s just fine with Stephen. By the end of his pro­lix apol­o­gy for his clas­si­cal pref­er­ence (not snobbery!)—which ranges in ref­er­ence from Lumet to Led Zep­pelin and Abba to Jane Austen—we believe him.

Stephen Fry hates danc­ing, per­haps more than any­one has ever hat­ed danc­ing. See him go on record again in the clip above from the BBC’s The One Show, and imag­ine how appalled he would be, if he could bring him­self to watch it, by the dance-off response at the top.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Stephen Fry, Lan­guage Enthu­si­ast, Defends The “Unnec­es­sary” Art Of Swear­ing

Stephen Fry Launch­es Pin­dex, a “Pin­ter­est for Edu­ca­tion”

Stephen Fry Explains Human­ism in 4 Ani­mat­ed Videos: Hap­pi­ness, Truth and the Mean­ing of Life & Death

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Act of Love: A Strange, Wonderful Visual Dictionary of Animal Courtship

As var­i­ous nature doc­u­men­taries over the years have made explic­it, the ani­mal king­dom pos­sess­es courtship rit­u­als of such yearn­ing and grace, they can make the erot­ic fum­blings of our species seem a very clum­sy dance indeed.

The above spot for Japan’s first con­dom man­u­fac­tur­er, Saga­mi Indus­tries, offers a vision of how humans might bring a lit­tle ani­mal feel­ing to their ten­der moments.

(It’s worth not­ing that while this delight is spon­sored by a con­dom com­pa­ny, humans are the only ani­mal to take pro­phy­lac­tic mea­sures to ward off sex­u­al­ly trans­mit­ted dis­eases and unwant­ed preg­nan­cies.)

Like actress Isabel­la Rosselli­ni, cre­ator of the mar­velous Green Porno series, direc­tor Greg Brunk­alla has an eye for both the fas­ci­nat­ing and the absurd.

But with­out Rossellini’s plain­spo­ken nar­ra­tion, this Act of Love remains mys­te­ri­ous, until the end, when the iden­ti­ty of the crea­tures the human dancers are embody­ing is revealed. Those of us who aren’t zool­o­gists will like­ly find that their cloth­ing pro­vides the clear­est clues up until that point.

Bisex­u­al behav­ior is ram­pant in the ani­mal world, but out­side of a not par­tic­u­lar­ly kinky-seem­ing pink-clad group, the five cou­ples in the ad are all het­ero­sex­u­al.

Sagami’s Eng­lish web­site takes a broad­er view, with in-depth reports on the sex­u­al prac­tices of 73 dif­fer­ent beasts, birds and insects. Tax­on­o­my, habi­tat, and size range are not­ed — a sci­en­tif­ic approach to what could very well serve as non-human online dat­ing pro­files.

Australia’s Superb Fairy Wrens are into open rela­tion­ships.

Lioness­es’ unabashed pref­er­ence for vir­ile young males gets them dubbed “true cougars.”

And E.B. White fans may find them­selves shocked by the vig­or of cou­pling orb weavers, seem­ing­ly the one fact of spi­der life Char­lotte refrained from explain­ing to her piglet friend, Wilbur :

After mat­ing, the male sud­den­ly sev­ers the mat­ing thread so that both he and the female end up dan­gling at sep­a­rate ends. This may look like a very abrupt part­ing of ways, but not so fast! The male imme­di­ate­ly re-strings his mat­ing thread and resumes his strum­ming. And despite hav­ing been cast off so sud­den­ly, the female again falls under the spell of his courtship vibra­tions, trans­fer­ring to the new mat­ing thread to mate a sec­ond time. As soon as they do so, the male sev­ers the thread once more so that the two spi­ders can go through the whole rou­tine again…and again and again and again. 

Explore Sagami’s entire col­lec­tion of not-so-pri­vate ani­mal lives here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Isabel­la Rosselli­ni Embody the Ani­mal Kingdom’s Most Shock­ing Mater­nal Instincts in Mam­mas

Watch Fam­i­ly Plan­ning, Walt Disney’s 1967 Sex Ed Pro­duc­tion, Star­ring Don­ald Duck

The Turin Erot­ic Papyrus: The Old­est Known Depic­tion of Human Sex­u­al­i­ty (Cir­ca 1150 B.C.E.)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Google Gives You a 360° View of the Performing Arts, From the Royal Shakespeare Company to the Paris Opera Ballet

We’ve long been able to read books online. More recent­ly, the inter­net has also become a favored dis­tri­b­u­tion sys­tem for movies, and cer­tain­ly we’ve all heard more than enough about the effects of down­load­ing and stream­ing on the music indus­try. No new tech­nol­o­gy can quite sub­sti­tute, yet, for a vis­it to the muse­um, but as we’ve often post­ed about here, many of the muse­ums them­selves have gone ahead and made their paint­ings, sculp­tures, and oth­er arti­facts view­able in great detail online. At this point, will the expe­ri­ence of any art form at all remain unavail­able to us on the inter­net?

Not long ago, I would have named any of the per­form­ing arts, but the brains at the Google Cul­tur­al Insti­tute have now got around to those most liv­ing of all forms as well. The New York Times’ Michael Coop­er writes of our new­found abil­i­ty, through a series of 360-degree videos, to “stand, vir­tu­al­ly, on the stage of the Palais Gar­nier, among the dancers of the Paris Opera Bal­let,” ” jour­ney to Strat­ford-upon-Avon, where you can try to keep up with a fre­net­ic Alex Has­sell of the Roy­al Shake­speare Com­pa­ny as Hen­ry V, exhort­ing his troops to go ‘once more unto the breach,’ ” or “go onstage at Carnegie Hall, where the video places you smack in the mid­dle of the Philadel­phia Orches­tra as it plays a rous­ing ‘In the Hall of the Moun­tain King.’ ”

These come as part of a vir­tu­al exhi­bi­tion involv­ing “an inno­v­a­tive assem­blage of per­form­ing arts groups” that went live ear­li­er this month at the Google Cul­tur­al Insti­tute’s site. The orga­ni­za­tions, now more than 60 in total, include not just the Paris Opera, the Roy­al Shake­speare Com­pa­ny, and Carnegie Hall, but the Berlin Phil­har­mon­ic, the Vien­na State Opera, the Amer­i­can Bal­let The­ater, the Amer­i­can Muse­um of Mag­ic, the Brook­lyn Acad­e­my of Music, the Coun­try Music Hall of Fame, the John F. Kennedy Cen­ter for the Per­form­ing Arts, the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Opera, and the Rome Opera. You can find the per­for­mances neat­ly divid­ed into cat­e­gories: Music, OperaThe­atre, Dance, and Per­for­mance Art.

Google’s blog describes some of the tech­nol­o­gy behind all this, includ­ing the 360-degree per­for­mance record­ings, the “indoor Street View imagery” of the grand venues where many of the per­for­mances hap­pen, and the “ultra-high res­o­lu­tion Gigapix­el” images avail­able for your scruti­ny. When you play the video above of the Philadel­phia Orches­tra, you can click and drag to view the per­for­mance from every pos­si­ble angle from your van­tage right there in the midst of the musi­cians. I can’t imag­ine what the Google Cul­tur­al Insti­tute will come up with next, but sure­ly it won’t be long before we can see things from the Black Swan’s point of view.

You can start explor­ing the 360s per­for­mances here.

via The New York Times/Google

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bal­let Dancers Do Their Hard­est Moves in Slow Motion

New Web Site, “The Opera Plat­form,” Lets You Watch La Travi­a­ta and Oth­er First-Class Operas Free Online

40,000 Art­works from 250 Muse­ums, Now View­able for Free at the Redesigned Google Art Project

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­maand the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future? Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Rita Hayworth, 1940s Hollywood Icon, Dances Disco to the Tune of The Bee Gees Stayin’ Alive: A Mashup

Disco’s been dead for decades, yet dis­co bash­ing nev­er seems to go out of style. The sleazy fash­ions, the soul­less music, the lumpen­pro­le­tari­at stream­ing ‘cross bridge and tun­nel to shake their sweaty, poly­ester-clad booties like cut rate Tra­voltas… it’s over, and yet it isn’t.

But even the most sav­age­ly anti-dis­co rock­er should allow that its lead prac­ti­tion­ers were pos­sessed of a cer­tain glam­our and grace, their high­ly refined dance moves exe­cut­ed with the pre­ci­sion of Fred Astaire.

It’s a point a Ger­man film buff known on YouTube as “et7waage1” dri­ves home by set­ting a mix of screen siren Rita Hay­worth’s most mem­o­rable dance scenes from the ‘40s and ‘50s to one of disco’s best known anthems, ’ “Stayin’ Alive.”

It’s easy to imag­ine Rita and any of her co-stars (includ­ing Astaire) would have part­ed the crowds at Brooklyn’s leg­endary 2001 Odyssey, the scene of Sat­ur­day Night Fever’s famous light­ed Plex­i­glass floor. Her cel­e­brat­ed stems are well suit­ed to the demands of dis­co, even when her twirly skirt is trad­ed in for pjs and fuzzy slip­pers or a dowdy turn-of-the-cen­tu­ry swim­ming cos­tume.

Here, for comparison’s sake are the stars of Sat­ur­day Night Fever, John Tra­vol­ta and Karen Lynn Gomey, cut­ting the rug, urm, flash­ing floor in 1977 to the Bee Gees’ much more sedate “More Than a Woman.”

Hay­worth films fea­tured in the dis­co-scored revamp are:

“Down to Earth”: 0:00 / 1:03 / 2:46 / 4:20

“You’ll Nev­er Get Rich”: 0:14 / 0:24 / 0:28 / 0:46 / 2:35 / 3:16 / 3:49

“Tonight and Every Night”: 0:20 / 1:11 / 1:22 / 1:36 / 1:54 / 1:55

“Cov­er Girl”: 0:34 / 0:38 / 1:13 / 1:48 / 2:13 / 3:07 / 3:29 / 3:31 / 3:54 / 4:06 / 4:31

“You Were Nev­er Love­li­er”: 0:50 / 2:20 / 2:42 / 3:00 / 4:10 / 4:38

“Gil­da”: 1:17 / 2:04

“Miss Sadie Thomp­son”: 1:38 / 1:46 / 4:28

“My Gal Sal”: 1:42 / 3:23 / 3:35

“Pal Joey”: 2:00 / 3:20 / 3:41

“Affair in Trinidad”: 2:05 / 2:52 / 3:04

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Dis­co Saves Lives: Give CPR to the The Beat of Bee Gees “Stayin’ Alive”

The Ori­gins of Michael Jackson’s Moon­walk: Vin­tage Footage of Cab Cal­loway, Sam­my Davis Jr., Fred Astaire & More

James Brown Gives You Danc­ing Lessons: From The Funky Chick­en to The Booga­loo

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her play, Fawn­book, is now play­ing New York City. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

A 103-Year-Old Harlem Renaissance Dancer Sees Herself on Film for the First Time & Becomes an Internet Star

The Harlem Renais­sance lives in the form of Alice Bark­er, a soft spo­ken lady who just last week received a belat­ed Hap­py 103rd Birth­day card from the Oba­mas.

That’s her on the right in the first clip, below. She’s in the back right at the 2:07 mark. Perched on a lunch counter stool, show­ing off her shape­ly stems at 9:32.

Barker’s new­found celebri­ty is an unex­pect­ed reward for one who was nev­er a mar­quee name.

She was a mem­ber of the chorus—a pret­ty, tal­ent­ed, hard­work­ing young lady, whose name was mis­spelled on one of the occa­sions when she was cred­it­ed. She danced through­out the 1930s and 40s in leg­endary Harlem venues like the Apol­lo, the Cot­ton Club, and the Zanz­ibar Club. Shared the stage with Frank Sina­tra, Gene Kel­ly, and Bill “Bojan­gles” Robin­son. Racked up a num­ber of film, com­mer­cial and TV cred­its, get­ting paid to do some­thing she lat­er con­fid­ed from a nurs­ing home bed she would have glad­ly done for free.

Barker’s cho­rus girl days had been moth­balled for decades when she crossed paths with video edi­tor David Shuff, a vol­un­teer vis­i­tor to the nurs­ing home where she lives. Shuff seems to be a kin­dred spir­it to the writer David Green­berg­er, whose Duplex Plan­et zines—and lat­er books, comics, and performances—captured the sto­ries (and per­son­al­i­ties) of the elder­ly res­i­dents of a Boston nurs­ing home where he served as activ­i­ties direc­tor.

Intrigued by glim­mers of Barker’s glam­orous past, Shuff joined forces with recre­ation­al ther­a­pist Gail Camp­bell, to see if they could truf­fle up any evi­dence. Bark­er her­self had lost all of the pho­tos and mem­o­ra­bil­ia that would have backed up her claims.

Even­tu­al­ly, their search led them to his­to­ri­ans Ali­cia Thomp­son and Mark Can­tor, who were able to iden­ti­fy Bark­er strut­ting her stuff in a hand­ful of extant 1940s juke­box shorts, aka “soundies.”

Though Bark­er had caught her­self in a cou­ple of com­mer­cials, she had nev­er seen any of her soundie per­for­mances. A friend of Shuff’s serendip­i­tous­ly decid­ed to record her reac­tion to her first pri­vate screen­ing on Shuff’s iPad. The video went viral as soon as it hit the Inter­net, and sud­den­ly, Bark­er was a star.

The loveli­est aspect of her late-in-life celebri­ty is an abun­dance of old fash­ioned fan mail, flow­ers and art­work. She also received a Jim­mie Lunce­ford Lega­cy Award for excel­lence in music and music edu­ca­tion.

Fame is heady, but seems not to have gone to Bark­er’s, as evi­denced by a remark she made to Shuff a cou­ple of months after she blew up the Inter­net, “I got jobs because I had great legs, but also, I knew how to wink.”

Shuff main­tains a web­site for fans who want to stay abreast of Alice Bark­er. You can also write her at the address below:

Alice Bark­er
c/o Brook­lyn Gar­dens
835 Herkimer Street
Brook­lyn, NY11233

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Great­est Jazz Films Ever Fea­tures Clas­sic Per­for­mances by Miles, Dizzy, Bird, Bil­lie & More

Cab Calloway’s “Hep­ster Dic­tio­nary,” A 1939 Glos­sary of the Lin­go (the “Jive”) of the Harlem Renais­sance

A 1932 Illus­trat­ed Map of Harlem’s Night Clubs: From the Cot­ton Club to the Savoy Ball­room

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her play, Fawn­book, is run­ning through Novem­ber 20 in New York City. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

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