Linda in Northfield, Mensagenda Editor
About Mensagenda
Minnesota Mensa published Vol. I, No. 1 of our newsletter, then called the Minnesota Mensa, in June of 1965. Approaching six decades later and winning awards along the way, we continue to provide a monthly publication, now called Mensagenda.
As expected in a newsletter, we inform our local membership with organizational updates and provide details about our events. The real benefit is that, just like our events, Mensagenda is for our members, by our members.
The love of learning in Mensa is not just about supporting our scholarship but in enriching your own mind and sharing your knowledge, skills, and interests. Read articles and regular columns ranging from scientific explanations to humor in everyday life. Check out our members’ photography, drawing, painting, knitting and quilting, and crafting skills.
What would you like to share? Do you have expertise in a particular field of study or hobby? Want to express your opinion? Have you traveled recently? Do you write poetry? Can you create word games, numerical puzzles, or trivia questions? What could you say about…well, you get the picture.
Mensagenda is another way that Minnesota Mensa provides “a stimulating intellectual and social environment for its members.” What could you contribute if you joined Mensa?
There’s More to Read
Mensa membership provides access to the publications from other chapters, American Mensa, and Mensa International. Click here to learn more.
Featured Cover Art
Loon and Chick. Photo by Doug in Apple Valley.
Vantage Point: A Chorus Line
by James in Saint Paul
A Chorus Line celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. I have tickets to the show on May 17 at the Ordway Center for the Performing Arts in St. Paul, Minnesota. Although I’ve seen the musical on stage only once before, I’ve watched the 1985 film adaptation several times, along with a documentary about the show’s history. In other words, A Chorus Line is one of my favorite musicals. Conceived by Michael Bennett and derived from interviews with actual dancers during the 1970s, the show is semi-biographical in nature, even if the characters themselves are fictional or composites. Other credits include music by Marvin Hamlisch, lyrics by Edward Kleban, and book by James Kirkwood Jr. and Nicholas Dante.
In terms of plot, A Chorus Line is rather straightforward, following a group of dancers as they audition for a Broadway musical. In many respects, I liken A Chorus Line to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Throughout the grueling audition process, the dancers open up about their personal lives and professional struggles. Cassie, for example, fights to overcome the perception that she is too overqualified to dance in the chorus. When asked about her age, Connie references Chinese astrology and says she was born under the year of the chicken (or rooster, the same as me). Diana sings about how she felt “Nothing” during improvisational exercises in an early acting class. I can relate to Diana’s experience, but I wouldn’t say that I identify with any one character in the show more than the rest.
The strength of A Chorus Line comes from the way the individual songs and monologues play off of one another. For instance, three of the characters describe how taking dance classes helped alleviate childhood pain. The trio sings that everything is beautiful “At the Ballet.” That sentiment contrasts with the brash pragmatism of Val, who tells how she couldn’t get work as a dancer until after having cosmetic surgery. Her comedic song is aptly titled, “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three.”
Of the large ensemble of hopefuls in the opening number, “I Hope I Get It,” only eight make the final cut. The process of elimination is a given, but the selection criteria isn’t always transparent. Does Sheila sabotage her shot by asking for a smoke break? Does Kristine ruin her chance — and that of her husband, Al — by demonstrating that she can’t sing well? What about Paul, who suffers a knee injury during the audition? Is his career over? We can only guess.
At the end of the extended audition, the eight dancers who remain are understandably relieved and overjoyed. But here’s the glossed-over reality of the situation: even if they are cast in the show within a show, their success is short-lived. In another six months, the musical will inevitably close, and the audition process will begin again. That’s the capricious nature of show business, and an underlying tension in A Chorus Line.