Day 910: The Home Stretch, AKA Revisions

My apologies, dear readers. I remember at least 3 occasions during February when I said to myself, “I should try to post about this!” but then failed to find the time or energy to do so. Thus, now that it’s March, I will attempt to look back and describe what I’ve gone through since January.

At first, I stuck to the schedule. I started with revisions for Chapter 1, on the Nicholas brothers. I very quickly found myself overwhelmed with this task. I had no idea how to even begin to address all of the comments I received, even after I methodically went through them and made a task list. As February dawned and I was still treading water with the first chapter, I decided to switch gears and begin work on Chapter 2 revisions.

But, I soon realized that some of the shared problems with both the first and second chapters might reasonably solved by the introduction, so when I was still only a handful of pages into my Gene Kelly revisions, I switched gears again and started to write the introduction, which I hadn’t even really outlined yet but I did have plenty of notes to guide me. Surprisingly, it was easier to write than I had anticipated, so it (thankfully) only took about a week. But then, with less than a week before my deadline, I was left with a still-unfinished attempt at a Chapter 1 revision and a barely-touched Chapter 2, which I discovered too late was a complete disaster.

I probably should have known that Chapter 2 would be such a mess. It was the first chapter I wrote, one which I started writing two whole years ago and hadn’t really looked back at since then. Of course, it became the basis for my writing sample, which I used in job applications, but the 25-page version was much tighter and more polished than the full chapter, and the changes I made for the writing sample did not translate to improvements of the chapter version nearly as often as I had thought they would. And, after spending so much time tightening up my best chapter, it became very clear just how bad my worst was in comparison—almost no argument to be found at all! I discovered that the argument had been more pronounced in my head and in my descriptions of the project elsewhere, but largely fell away in the chapter itself.


One of my tasks during Chapter 2 revisions was to add images, such as this one in which Gene Kelly literally dissolves into a drawing of black dancer Raphaël Padilla (Toulouse-Lautrec’s Chocolat) during An American in Paris (1951).

Meanwhile, our department’s recruitment weekend fast approached, and it entailed a series of events with many moving parts and details to coordinate—most of which was my job. I was also asked to serve as the representative graduate student scholar of my department and give a talk on the second day of the weekend, so it was crucial that I submit the intro and chapter revisions before all of this hit.

…but I didn’t quite make it. I submitted the ~185 pages 2 days too late, and with insufficient attention to the final section of Chapter 2, which was the worst part. This meant I did a subpar job preparing the talk, which itself was a version of the final section of Chapter 1.

All of this is a long way of saying that REVISIONS ARE THE HARDEST PART. This has taken me completely by surprise. I thought they would be so much easier than writing but I was very, very mistaken. I really should have anticipated this, though; one thing I have long known about myself is that I’m not very good at editing my own work. Once I’ve written something, I have a very hard time envisioning it otherwise. Editing for me has always been a slow and painful process, so I’m not sure why I thought that editing of a more dramatic sort (thus the term “revisions”) would be somehow less difficult. I suppose part of the reason is that preparing my materials for the job market in the Fall had really helped me to conceptualize the full project more clearly, so I felt more equipped to “fix” all the problems and reshape them to fit my newly coherent vision than I actually was.

I am still anticipating feedback from my chair in about 2 weeks, and I must admit I am newly terrified that he will inform me I’m not ready to defend yet after all. I know that I personally still don’t feel like it’s “there” yet, and this is frustrating because I’ve put in so many hundreds of hours at this point. In fact, this feeling is oddly reminiscent of the one I expressed way back at the beginning of this process, in November 2014, when I still wasn’t even quite sure how I was going to structure this dissertation yet (or what the case studies were). To quote my old self, “it’s an odd place to be: on the precipice of my potential, able to sense it but not able to actually see it yet.” Back then I couldn’t even see the shape of the thing I wanted to write—now, I definitely have the shape, but the contents don’t feel appropriately interconnected, coherent, and smoothed out. I can visualize, conceptualize, and imagine what the best version of my dissertation would look and sound like, but I am really struggling to get it to take shape.

I am blessed with great vision despite years of straining my eyes, but I think the appropriate metaphor for this experience is the difference between looking at a vision test before and after glasses. I can make out the general shapes of those letters (and chapters and sections and paragraphs) but I can’t actually distinguish them well enough to read them. But at the same time, I know what letters I should be able to see there, because I’m very familiar with this chart.

This is a scary place to be when your official manuscript has to be submitted to your committee in exactly 4 weeks.

So, for now, I’m trying to tackle revisions on Chapter 3 (Elvis). I have notes to self for re-revising certain parts of the other two chapters, especially Chapter 2, which still needs at least another week of work…but as I begin to go through comments on this final chapter, I’m terrified that Elvis is going to turn out to need even more help than Gene and that I’m not going to be able to turn in good—one might say, defensible—work at the end of the month because I won’t have time to fix everything well enough.

I must admit, I did not expect these final weeks to be nearly so frightening. I thought for sure I’d have it all together by now, that I’d feel better about my 3 years of work on this huge project. Instead, I’m really quite disappointed in my poor execution of good ideas.

Well, readers, I may not post again until after I theoretically submit at the end of the month, so wish me luck! I’ll try to check in again before the defense.


Day 870: The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Well readers, I finally did it: I finished drafting the body chapters of the DOS-D. At around 3am on day 868.

The Elvis chapter ended up a little over 86 pages long (before notes), including 75 figures. I still believe there are too many images, but I’m going to deal with that later, when I start revising the chapter. For now, I’m grateful to have (barely) made it through. That last day was very rough; I had promised the chapter to my chair by January 18 but kept hitting walls when it came to dealing with Viva Las Vegas and beyond, let alone concluding the chapter. So, I spent January 18 not eating but working constantly, which meant that I only missed the deadline by about 3 hours.


Elvis dancing for Ann-Margret in Viva Las Vegas (1964), for which I struggled to find a good angle of analysis.

It took me a few days to recuperate, but here I am on the other side of it. Now it’s time to switch mental gears and shape the project as a whole: revisions. Luckily for me, all three members of my committee have read through and given me detailed feedback on each chapter as I’ve written them, so I will have a lot of guidance through my revision process. I know that I need to do more secondary reading/citation for the “cultural context” parts of the chapters, and clarify my central argument. This means more sign-posting and better conclusions to my major examples and sections. I anticipate needing to print out the full chapters for myself, spread them out on the floor, and edit by hand. I need to be able to see the flow of the thing. My apologies in advance to the trees who had to die for me to achieve this; I promise to recycle it all when I’m done. Speaking of promises…

I have promised a draft of my Introduction alongside revised versions of Chapters 1 & 2 to my chair by February 22. Thus, I gave myself mini-deadlines to reach that goal:

  • Complete Ch. 1 revisions (Nicholas Brothers) by Jan. 30
  • Complete Ch. 2 revisions (Gene Kelly) by Feb 8
  • Use the 2 weeks between Feb 8 & Feb 22 to write the Intro

I expect to receive feedback on Elvis around Feb 22, and feedback on the Intro + revisions by St. Patrick’s day. I am due to submit the entire manuscript to my committee on March 29.

AHHHHH, it’s all so much. But I’m told this is just how the ‘final push’ tends to go. It’s a lot, but I can do it—I have to. March 29 really isn’t so far away…less than 10 weeks. Just 67 days. I have a lot of ground to cover, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

This might mean that I check in here more often or less often; I’m not sure yet. But for now, the end is in sight and I just have to put my blinders on and charge forth!

First Chapter Draft: The Aftermath

I admit I’ve been extremely remiss in posting–my last post was over 2 months ago. But I did submit a full chapter draft to my chair about a month ago…and since then I’ve been living in the aftermath.

The original goal for that chapter submission was June 21, but I submitted it July 6 (Day 305!). Not bad, considering that I spent one of those interim weeks at an intensive dance studies seminar and Independence Day was in there, too. (A note about the Mellon Dance Studies Summer Seminar I attended: it is both terrifying and very productive to give a “research talk” about your dissertation project before a group of experts in a field you’re brand new to. I am happy to report that the seminar gave me a much better sense of what my larger contribution is and why people should–and do!–care about my DOS-D.)

My whole dissertation compressed into a single slide

My whole dissertation compressed into a single slide

With footnotes included, the final chapter draft was indeed 60 pages. But it was still a pretty rough draft–I knew before I even submitted it that I needed to do more archival viewing, and I definitely wish I had more access to some of the paper files that do exist but aren’t publicly available right now. In many ways, the chapter is a product of what was available. If I’m lucky, patience and perseverance will bring me into contact with more materials and this will help me to enhance the basic draft I completed.

Of course, it feels good to have simply produced a “complete” thing. It took me 9 months to gestate that baby, and while it felt like a really long time, I’m told that’s still pretty fast for one’s first chapter. I must admit I got impatient with myself toward the end, because it really did feel interminable to write on the same basic topic for over 50 pages. And of course, this also meant that I started to hate my argument–it felt repetitive and boring by that point, and every example felt the same as the rest, even as it would draw out new concerns and new patterns to be considered in the context of the rest of the evidence. I can already tell I’m not going to be one of those scholars who goes through and does one big edit at the end; every chapter is going to go through a few drafts before it’s ready to be integrated with the rest. There will probably be more drafts of this first chapter since I was still so new to the process when I was writing it, but I just can’t imagine being able to responsibly tie such a large ‘essay’ together without several months’ distance between it and myself, no matter how good I get at the chapter-writing process.

So here I am in the aftermath. What have I been doing with myself? Well, first I gave myself a week off where I didn’t have to think about my DOS-D at all. I watched some movies, did a lot of laundry, painted my nails (in other words, I took some Practical Lost Days and Mental Health Lost Days). Then, as a way to ease myself back into working, I considered the most obvious gaps that came up and decided to collect the data to address them, so I made a few visits to The Paley Center for Media and watched some more programs. I also revamped my personal website to serve as a stronger representation of my academic self. And then I fell ill.

I’m sure a lot of us experienced the post-finals colds and flus that often struck in college or early grad school; when one pushes one’s body to the limit, running on little more than adrenaline for the final push of a marathon, the come-down often involves a weakened and vulnerable immune system. So we get sick. Similarly, many colleagues told me about how sick they got after taking qualifying exams–I did, too–but I hadn’t considered that this would happen after the stress of completing a dissertation chapter, as well. There’s also the problem of age: I’m not a 20-year-old anymore, and my body can’t take being pushed as hard. Quals were really, really too much for me, and I paid for that push with over a month of poor health. I didn’t push myself that hard for the chapter, but still found myself on antibiotics for a week, so my lesson to myself for next time is: I need to ease into those final weeks a little better.

I think I’ve successfully kicked the illness, though, and I’m ready to start reading and archive trips for my next chapter–on The Nicholas Brothers! This means more visits to The Paley Center and reading Marshall & Jean Stearns’ lengthy Jazz Dance, potentially cover-to-cover. I’ve also just submitted a conference paper proposal related to my last chapter: it’s about the relationship between dance movement and film technology in Fred Astaire & Gene Kelly’s musicals. I’ll be exploring their partnerships with Hermes Pan and Stanley Donen, respectively, and conducting a close analysis of both the ways in which dancing for the camera affected their choreography and the ways in which their visions for what I call “impossible” dances required innovation and tricks on the cinematography/production side.

So that’s where I’m at–the tail end of the post-chapter-submission aftermath, getting back on the horse and moving forward. Of course, summer is also coming to a close and I’ll be back to teaching and other institutional responsibilities in about a month so I’ll have those to juggle, too. Hopefully the more structured time will mean more updates here rather than fewer. Until next time, readers!

On Meeting (Dissertation) Celebrities

It’s once again been a little over a month since my last post and, once again, much has transpired.

The good news is, I’ve passed the 15-page mark on my Gene Kelly chapter draft—and I’ve even been keeping up with the footnotes!

The bad news is, I don’t think this whole chapter will be edit-ready by June 21 as I’d hoped.  This chapter is going to be long (like, 60 pages long) and the writing is going slower than expected.  I’ve found that it takes me a good half-hour to get into the right mind space for my argument whenever I sit down to write.  I’m arguing so many things at once, using so many different kinds of evidence, that it’s really easy to lose track of myself as I go along.  I also find myself needing to rewatch a lot of scenes from films, hunt down the author or the month of publication for archival materials, re-read relevant paragraphs of secondary literature, etc.  My brain just can’t seem to hold everything all at once!

I’m told that the first chapter is always the slowest, mainly because of what I discussed in my last post regarding not being trained to write this particular kind of manuscript and therefore learning as I go along.  I think there’s also a rhythm to be found during the writing of the first chapter: every dissertator varies in terms of how much and what kinds of research we need (or think we need) to complete prior to writing, how much can be done along the way, how much this slows us down, etc.  In the case of my own first chapter, my outline breaks down Kelly’s DOS career into four periods, so once I’d watched all the media and read all the appropriate material from the first two periods, I decided I was ready to start writing.  But again, much of this requires re-viewing as I go along, so I didn’t save myself as much writing time as I thought.

But now for the actual subject at hand: meeting (dissertation) celebrities.  During my March & April travels, I was able to spend a week digging through the Gene Kelly Collection at Boston University.  Unfortunately, the holdings available to the public were somewhat scant—almost all newspaper clippings.  The rest of the archival materials on Kelly appear to reside with his widow, Patricia Ward Kelly, who has been working on Gene’s memoir since his death in 1996 (and for about 8 years prior as well).  Fortunately for me, both myself and Mrs. Kelly reside in Los Angeles so I was able to attend a special Hollywood screening of An American In Paris (1951) where Mrs. Kelly would be in attendance for the Q&A.  We exchanged cards and I told her a bit about my project; I told her I’d love to be able to look through some of the myriad Gene-related materials (like choroegraphic notes scrawled on envelopes) that she is holding on to.  I’m hopeful that this will work out; maybe I’ll be able to help her in deciphering some of Gene’s ballet shorthand (ballerina that I am) so that I can ‘give back’ in my little way.

Mrs. Kelly is also touring with a sort of 1-woman show about Gene's career and legacy

Mrs. Kelly is also touring with a sort of 1-woman show about Gene’s career and legacy

What was odd about this whole exchange was the celebrity factor.  In (historical) dissertation-land, the person who has control of the archival materials is some sort of demigod to be worshipped and revered, as this person holds the key to history.  Thus, Mrs. Kelly is my current dissertation celebrity.  And it just so happens that she is also the widow of an actual celebrity—so she’s also a regular celebrity by extension.  After the screening, some of my fellow audience members asked for photos and autographs, all bathed in bashful smiles and gushing praise.  It felt odd to be asking for none of those things, and instead asking for access—a much scarier request for sure!  I suppose I was starstruck in a different way; for me, Mrs. Kelly holds a lot of power over my baby, the project consuming my entire life for several years.  For them, she’s the last person who lived and daily conversed with the great Gene Kelly, and now she’s guardian of his legacy.  In all, I think I was the most nervous!!  Fingers crossed it all works out….

Day 197: First Day of Writing! (Discussion: First Conference Talk; First Chapter Outline)

It’s been more than a month between posts this time, but much has transpired!  I did a great deal of traveling for conferences, archives, and meetings with my DOS-D committee.  In the process, I came up with what I think is the first viable potential title for this beast:

The Flash, The Feet, The Pelvis: Dancing Race and Masculinity across Midcentury Film and TV

(Please, big bad Interwebs, don’t steal that from me.)  “The Flash” represents the Nicholas Brothers, who were often (mistakenly) understood as flash dancers–their acrobatics made them seem to fall in that category, but they were actually jazz tap dancers through and through.  “The Feet” represents Gene Kelly, who was often referred to as such by critics, especially when he was featured alongside Frank Sinatra in films (Sinatra was “The Voice” to his Feet).  And, perhaps most obviously, “The Pelvis” represents Elvis Presley, famous for his naughty hip gyrations on national television.  These four men are the core of my DOS-D chapters, so this seems a fitting first stab at a title.  Many of my colleagues seem to have already settled on their titles but I’m one of those people who can’t finalize a title until literally every other part of a writing project is done.  So the fact that I’ve thought of even one decent title means I’ve come a long way toward conceptualizing the larger work, which is great news since I’m about 6 months in now!

Now then, as I mentioned last post, I had two conference talks to give at the end of March and both went well.  It was a special relief, though, that the second one went well because it was the first time I’ve presented dissertation material to the (academic) public.  In my case, this was a close analysis of Gene Kelly’s 1958 Omnibus special “Dancing, A Man’s Game.”

At the beginning of the special, Kelly compares dancing to sports.

At the beginning of the special, Kelly compares dancing to sports.

There is a particular fear that comes with presenting initial iterations of your first major ideas–the ideas you’re going to be living with for the next decade (see my first post for more on this problem)–to your “peers,” which I’ve placed in scare quotes because “peers” at this juncture in a young scholar’s career almost invariably actually means older, wiser, published, and successful scholars in one’s field.  If, for example, I had received particularly critical or exasperating comments, if my presentation was not met with enthusiasm, if the experience had been negative in any way, I’d have no doubt felt terribly crushed and feared that these precious initial ideas are silly, ill-conceived, boring, or even Obvious; Unimportant; Unoriginal.  So I’m proud to report that two famous scholars seemed to thoroughly enjoy the talk (one even said as much), the entire audience (which thankfully consisted of more than 4 people) giggled at my little jokes, and the follow-up questions conveyed sincere interest and constructive commentary rather than annoyed disdain.  A couple people even approached me afterwards with compliments.  In all, I was very pleased and even more relieved.

Not too long after, I finally managed to churn out a coherent outline for Chapter 2 of my dissertation (which I just so happen to be writing first, as it’s the easiest to put together).  Tentatively titled “The Feet: The Marlon Brando of Dance,” the chapter tracks Gene Kelly’s career from film to television, thinking about the ways his dancing presented masculinity to the WWII and postwar public on these different screens and the ways in which this representation intersected with blackness in particular (and racial politics in general) during that period.  (See the featured photo of my last post for a clear visual example from The Pirate, in which Kelly dances with the Nicholas Brothers.)  I was, of course, quite afraid of presenting this outline to my DOS-D advisors because I honestly don’t know the first thing about outlining a 60+ page document.  Even as a PhD candidate, I’ve never written (and therefore never created a detailed outline for) an academic paper longer than about 25 or 30 pages.  (The obvious exceptions, here, are my two undergraduate honors theses, one of which was maybe 40 pages and the other of which was about 100.  But I think we can all agree that an undergraduate thesis hardly requires the level of academic rigor that might be expected of an advanced graduate student.)  The dissertation chapter, then, is a difficult creature to conceptualize in terms of its ebbs, flows, arguments, threads, examples, etc.  Fortunately, I’ve been given the thumbs-up to start writing the chapter as envisioned in my outline.  The only real warnings were:

  1. Don’t forget to include some form of literature review at the beginning, so as to map out the terrain of other scholarship I’ll be referring to throughout the chapter
  2. Since this dissertation is equally about film and television, make sure not to accidentally favor the former because the films are both more easily accessible to watch and more often discussed in that other scholarship mentioned above
  3. Consider your opening anecdote a “first draft” anecdote, because it’s difficult to gauge how appropriate an opening anecdote is until the whole chapter is drafted

In many ways, the dissertation chapter seems to be a gargantuan 3-5 page college essay (of which I’ve now graded hundreds).  What would be a paragraph in these essays is now an entire section; each substantive sentence in the section represents a paragraph or two.  This is a good way, I think, to avoid getting completely lost in a sea of my own prose.  Which is a good realization to have just now, because today I begin writing in earnest.  I’ve opened a new Word document, I’ve got my Scrivener project file open, my outline with annotations from those advisor meetings sits on the table beside my laptop.  After I publish this post, I shall embark on the long journey.  (I’ve promised both myself and my advisors that this chapter will be in “full draft” form by June 12 and ready for workshopping/edits by June 21).

And so, here goes everything!

Tactile Arguments

It’s been nearly a month since my last post so I figure I should check in.  I have two conference talks to give later this month, so those are becoming my primary focus going forward.  The good news: one of them is based on a dissertation chapter, so working on that talk = working on my DOS-D.  (The chapter in question is the Gene Kelly chapter–ergo this post’s primary image from The Pirate).  The bad news: the other talk has nothing to do with my dissertation.  That’s how it goes, though.  Not everything can be about this giant (future) tome looming over my head.

These conferences aside, I’ve spent the majority of the past month on three tasks:

  1. A thorough, annotated reading of Constance Valis Hill’s Tap Dancing America: A Cultural History up through the 1960s.  Many of Hill’s arguments are useful points of entry for my chapter on Gene Kelly.
  2. Watching a lotttt of Gene Kelly films.  I’m viewing as many as possible, and in chronological order, so that I have a general sense of how his onscreen dance style and presence morphed over the course of his career.  I’m flagging some for rewatches.  One of them is The Pirate (1948), which features not only Gene Kelly, but also the Nicholas Brothers.

    Gene Kelly joining the Nicholas brothers in one of their signature acrobatic dance sequences (from The Pirate)

    Gene Kelly joining the Nicholas brothers in one of their signature acrobatic dance sequences (from The Pirate).

  3. Getting my arguments out.  This has been tricky–I tend to get half-baked ideas at random moments, refuse to write them down because they’re only half-baked, and then regret it when I suddenly feel like I have no ideas at all.  It’s one thing to take notes on specific scenes in a film or a specific claim by another scholar; it’s another thing altogether to formulate, clarify, and articulate my own overarching arguments.  In short, I’m starting to have a lot of supporting thoughts but not enough main points.  SO, I’m trying to make my arguments tactile.  How so, you might ask?  Using index cards!
    Index cards = tactile arguments!  (Pay no attention to the box of Girl Scout cookies...)

    Index cards = tactile arguments! (Pay no attention to the box of Girl Scout cookies in the corner…)

    On one side of a card, I’ll write a keyword or three, and on the other side I’ll write a first draft of a sentence stating one of my general arguments for the chapter.  By writing them out instead of typing them into a document, I’m sidestepping the anxiety that comes with actually writing my dissertation, which I still feel a bit unprepared to do.  Hopefully, between these cards and the conference paper I’m putting together, I’ll have the guts to actually write the chapter in April, May, and June.

My cohort and I have been arranging monthly virtual meetings to check in on each other’s progress, and this has been helpful.  We troubleshoot each other’s problems, exchange archive stories, offer feedback on writing, etc.  It has been heartening to see that my colleagues are in roughly the same place I am: we’re all working on outlining or writing our first chapter, and about half of us still have research to wrap up before we can begin writing in earnest.  It still astounds me that every part of the process takes so much time!  Everything moved so much faster during coursework, but making long-term plans helps with the sense of interminability.

The X factor in all of my future DOS-D plans is my archive visits.  I’ve been contacting two archives via phone/email/in person but still haven’t made much headway on accessing what I need from them, which is worrisome.  When I return in April, I’ll also be ready to view the television episodes housed at various LA institutions, so hopefully that will be a little easier to arrange.

Well, onward!

The Anatomy of a DOS-D

It’s been over a month now since I last checked in here on DOS-D, and much has transpired since then.  I did indeed finish my conference talk for the Society of Dance History Scholars/Congress of Research on Dance, flew to the midwest, gave said talk despite a major power outage in the middle of my presentation, and had meetings with each of my committee members.

Of course, the difficulty in meeting with each member separately is the high likelihood that some of their thoughts and suggestions will clash with one another, so I’ve since been trying to resolve some of the conflicts in these suggestions.  BUT, I want to record the conceptual progress I’ve made before I get too caught up in archival research (what follows is probably boring nitty gritty for most readers, so be warned):

  • The main goal of the dissertation (at this juncture) is to document the shifts in staging race and dance on screen at the crucial juncture of the postwar moment, and how this affected male ‘star’ dancers in particular as a result of important shifts in gender and race dynamics of the period that were both much bigger than dance and also being worked out in front of the nation through dance (among other means).
    • There are several other issues bound up in this like differential media technologies, class, and age/generation which will hopefully get traced out (or at least wrapped in) along the way
  • My original interest in the symbiotic relationship between dance cultures and screen cultures remains–there’s clearly a sort of push/pull happening between the two, in which each side wants to blame the other for ruining or cheapening it while also being dependent on it for success, popularity, profit, etc.  Television was concerned about Elvis’s pelvis, of course, and dance was concerned that its Hollywood arm consisted mainly of cheap spectacle.  And yet, even Ed Sullivan knew that Elvis was the key to the ratings jackpot and even Dance Observer admitted that Hollywood is part of what made American dance so innovative.  This invisible exchange needs to be made evident in my diss.
    • That being said, maybe one of the key shifts for me to track is precisely the shift from film to TV (and in Elvis’s case, from TV to film) — maybe medium specificity in this case accounts for more than immediately meets the eye.

Regrettably, I think I’m going to have to move away from including ‘regular people’ (amateur hours & teen dance shows) to make more room for focusing on the big names who, by virtue of being big names, were the bodies across which the most aggressive representational rhetoric was etched out.

Now we get to the hardest part, the part I’m still struggling with and probably will continue to struggle with for some time: organization.  While two of my three committee members thought that the revised plans I’d brought to them seemed much better and more manageable than the initial prospectus, all three offered a slightly different take on what they envision going forward.  In basic terms, these options are:

  1. Structure by figure, and cut out a couple.  So:
    1. The Nicholas Brothers
    2. Gene Kelly
    3. Elvis Presley
  2. Structure by period/media arrangement, and bring the cut fellas back in.  So:
    1. The Nicholas Brothers & Bill Robinson (mainly film)
    2. Fred Astaire & Gene Kelly (film –> TV)
    3. Elvis Presley (TV –> film)
  3. Structure by concept, and maybe bring women & femininity back in.  So (roughly…):
    1. Dance vs. Screen Cultures
    2. Race & Gender
    3. Class & Generation
    4. Film vs. TV

Well, I’m still digesting all this.  I have plans to reach out to a potential fourth committee member who’s currently working on Bill Robinson.  I’ve downloaded Scrivener and imported the images from my digging through 8 years of Dance Observer archives (1934-1941, which is really too early but I wanted to check for precedents) and 2 years of Dance Magazine (1951-1952).  I’ve started a spreadsheet of archives in the LA area whose written records hold promise for me.  AND I’ve begun compiling a list of relevant television episodes for each of the figures listed above, as well as places where I can actually view these episodes.

Gene Kelly for Capezio shoes in a 1952 Dance Magazine

Gene Kelly for Capezio shoes in a 1952 Dance Magazine

So, progress has been made, and I’ll hopefully accomplish a bit more before the holidays so that I’m ready to actually visit all the necessary brick & mortar archives in the new year.