I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, 1967
Last night I watched White Christmas. Ever since I studied with Luigi, a master of jazz dance in New York City who also danced in this movie, I see the film with a special interest. I always look for my dance mentor.
But it’s been ten years since I danced with Luigi everyday. After all that viewing, the film took on various other meanings and I started looking at Holiday Inn as well. What really hit me last night was Bing.
I saw the moment of the famous Richard Hamilton piece (of which there are several versions). Bing has his hat and jacket on, he’s about ready to leave. There are those downcast eyes and the subtle smile. And I saw in that moment the Hamiltons I stared at repeatedly during my years in London in the 70s. The only thing I could compare the experience to would be seeing a still of Marilyn or Jackie in its original context after seeing a lot of Warhol.
“You finally got Bing,” said my film freak friend. Actually I have read that Bing was the first hip white person in America and I’m not even sure what all that means. I know he was the number one superstar of the late 30s and early 40s.