By James Jorden
One thing you can’t call David McVicar is inept. His productions always work with precision, every movement landing everyone in the right place at the right time, every “still” moment photo-ready. Reportedly he brings shows in on budget and on time, and there’s never a last-minute scramble to improvise some kind of action for the fourth act. Read the rest of this entry »
By Rachel Straus
Israel Galván in "Lo Real"
The most indelible dance production of the year, for this writer, was the world premiere of Lo Real/Le Réel/The Real. Conceived by the flamenco dancer-choreographer Israel Galván, and seen December 22 at Madrid’s prestigious Teatro Real, Lo Real’s subject is the Nazi’s genocide of the Roman and Sinti people (otherwise known as the gypsies). This intermission-less, two hour and ten minute production is nothing but ambitious. But in the hands of the 39-year-old Galván, Lo Real neither traffics in sentimentalism nor graphic violence. Instead the work reads like a metaphysical inquiry, an exploration into the fundamental nature of being in the world.
Consider this scene. Galván hammers an old upright piano apart with his sputtering footwork. In doing so, he destroys the harmonic integrity of the instrument. When he forces the piano apart, we hear its strings shrieking as they stretch. We see Galván in a deep lunge with his muscular arms working to push the battered object to its breaking point. But the piano doesn’t dissemble. Instead its strings, like Galván’s wiry body, produce a shrill, taut dissonance, one that is awe-inspiring in its intensity. At this moment, the image of the persecuted gypsy becomes real: Galván, stripped of his shirt, dances while caught in a barbed wire fence. His angular, contorted gestures and his sharp, hard footwork eviscerate him as they reveal the unique quality of his dancing, which bends the tradition of the Seville school of flamenco beyond recognition.
Photo by Daniel Munoz
The title of Galván’s production is key to understanding the choreographer’s perspective. Lo Real/Le Réel/The Real isn’t some semantic word play favored by choreographers wishing to seem intellectual. It’s a functional title. By inscribing the same word in Spanish, French, and English, Galván alludes to the foremost countries (Spain, France, the U.S and UK) that have consistently embraced Galván’s artistry. The title also pays homage to Jacques Lacan’s theory of The Real, which states how the real is that which is authentic and absolute.
Death, Galván has alluded in interviews, is his Real. And in his production, directed by Pedro G. Romero and Txiki Berraondo, it is treated through a reel of distinct images and scenes. Some are comedic: The Nazi film director Leni Riefenstahl appears as a vamp in a red tuxedo-style corset who straddles an old-fashioned lighting stand, thanks to dancer Isabel Bayón’s frighteningly certain performance. Some of Lo Real’s images are tragic: In the finale of Belén Maya’s solo, she cannot stand. Nonetheless, Maya performs her rhythmic footwork while lurching forward to the lip of the stage on her forearms.
Isabel Bayón and Israel Galván in "Lo Real"
Almost all of the spectacular performers, including singers David Lagos and Tomás de Perrate, guitarists Chicuelo and Caracafé, violinist Eloísa Cantón, drummer Bobote and dancing wife Uchi, emerge from the recesses of the vast stage like specters. Either alone or in pairs, they perform transcendent defiances against the inevitability of death, through their song and dance.
Galván’s Lo Real/Le Réel/The Real will next be performed in Paris, Amsterdam and Ludwigsburg and then will return to Spain via stops in Seville and Granada. Let’s hope it comes to New York soon, before another year ends.
by Sedgwick Clark
My favorite solo piano music is Debussy’s – iridescent, sensual, and, after all these years, mysterious. My first recording of his music was by Charles Rosen performing Images, Books I and II, Estampes, L’Isle joyeuse, and other short pieces on an Epic LP. It had been praised by David Hamilton as “indispensable” and “revelatory” in High Fidelity magazine. “[There] is an extraordinary musical intelligence at work in these performances, as well as an impeccable technique; other recordings are simply not in the running,” he concluded.
Rosen died on December 9 at age 85. Soon after, I listened to that worn LP and to his earlier recording of the composer’s Etudes. I had not played either of them for at least three decades, and the pianist’s mastery remained undiminished by time and by my subsequent acquaintance with Walter Gieseking’s classic, more “impressionistic” interpretations. It’s unfortunate that so few of Rosen’s Epic and Columbia recordings were transferred to CD. Sony did release his acclaimed Bach and Beethoven recordings on its Essential Classics line, but his equally praised 20th-century repertoire remains in limbo. Five years ago I compiled three CDs worth of his recordings of music by Bartók, Liszt, Schoenberg, Stravinsky, Ravel, and Debussy, and approached Arkiv to release them, to no avail.
I first heard Rosen in concert at Hunter College on March 7, 1969, playing Pierre Boulez’s Piano Sonata No. 3. Boulez was conducting a chamber group and accompanying soprano Bethany Beardslee – each of whom I was also hearing for the first time – in works by Schoenberg and Debussy. Although I’m writing now about Rosen, I can’t resist adding that the Pierrot Lunaire after intermission was the goose-pimpliest performance of the piece I’ve ever heard. It was around this time that I first saw Rosen at a Hitchcock double bill at St. Mark’s Place movie theater in Manhattan’s East Village.
Over the years, I had worked up the nerve to say hello to him at concerts, and I approached his publicist to ask him to write an article for WNCN’s music magazine, Keynote, which I edited. It would coincide with a pair of Carnegie Hall concerts devoted to Beethoven and Schumann in January 1982. In the piece, entitled “The Original Schumann,” he maintained that the composer’s first editions were superior to the revised editions, which “clouded our understanding of Schumann’s originality.” He observed that “[t]empo marks like ‘impertinently’ were changed to ‘with humor,’ making Schumann’s intention far less clear to the pianist.” We had talked about humor in Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations and Schumann’s Carnaval, in particular, and I remember laughing out loud at moments in his performances. It wasn’t that he was hamming up the music, but that the recordings I had by Serkin and Arrau were so serious! Look for his recordings, made at the same time, to see what I mean.
Part of the enjoyment of his recordings was his witty, insightful liner notes; he also contributed regularly to the New York Review of Books. His first book was the National Book Award-winning The Classical Style (Viking, 1971), earning reviews as a landmark in the study of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. The unfortunate result was that his writing began to overshadow his performing in the eyes of the critics, and his New York appearances became fewer. In one of his last New York recitals, at the 92nd Street Y in 2006, he played the last three Beethoven sonatas masterfully, which Steve Smith of the Times enthusiastically noted.
Charles was Musical America’s Instrumentalist of the Year in 2007. Two days after his death, his publicist, Connie Shuman, called to tell me that a friend of Charles’s was on the phone with him when he learned of the award and that he was “ecstatic” at being honored as a pianist rather than an author.
I last saw him on December 6, 2010, at Columbia University’s Miller Theater. The occasion was an all-Boulez program honoring the French composer/conductor at age 85. Among the adoring crowd were two other titans of contemporary music, Carter and Rosen.
Rosen’s passing, of prostate cancer, came a month after the death of Elliott Carter (see my blog, December 21), whose music he had championed with such distinction. It happened during one unsettling week in which the Times’s obit pages seemed to crescendo with the loss of favorite artists:
Dave Brubeck (Dec. 6, 1920- Dec. 5, 2012)
Charles Rosen (May 5, 1927-Dec. 9, 2012)
Galina Vishnevskaya (Oct. 25, 1926-Dec. 10, 2012)
Lisa Della Casa (Feb. 2, 1919-Dec. 10, 2012)
Ravi Shankar (April 7, 1920-Dec. 11, 2012)
Looking Forward
My week’s scheduled concerts (8:00 p.m. unless otherwise noted):
1/8 Metropolitan Opera at 7:30. Donizetti: Maria Stuarda. Maurizio Benini (cond.). Joyce DiDonato (Mary Stuart); Elza van den Heever (Queen Elizabeth I); Matthew Polenzani (Roberto); Matthew Rose (George Talbot).
By James Conlon
I had intended to submit this entry on December 15, the day after the terrible events in Newtown, CT. I found it impossible to think about anything else, and felt it was inappropriate, if not disrespectful, to publish it on that day. I have kept it for the New Year and offer it to the reader with my best wishes for 2013.
At the end of my previous entry, I was wandering around the streets of Leipzig and reveling in the cultural riches it has to offer. From Bach to Stockhausen, this city has played a historic role disproportionate to its size, and the Gewandhaus Orchestra can be credited with having kept much of that alive.
The orchestra derives its name from “garment house” and had its first home on the second floor of a commercial center used by merchants to exchange wool and cloth. Mozart performed there once, in 1789. Mendelssohn, who became the first “modern” conductor by insisting on standing in front of the now larger ensemble of musicians and taking the reins from the concertmaster and continuo player, transformed and led the way to the expanded nineteenth-century orchestra. That building saw the world premieres of Schubert’s “Great” C Major, Mendelssohn’s “Scottish” and Schumann’s “Spring” Symphonies. The premiere of the Meistersinger Prelude was shared with Franz Liszt’s Second Piano Concerto played by Hans von Bülow. Later, when the orchestra had long outgrown its home, a new, magnificent “Second” Gewandhaus was opened in 1884. Brahms, Tchaikovsky and Richard Strauss all conducted their own works there; Nikisch, Furtwängler and Walter were among its principal conductors.
In 1878, The Leipzig Opera became the first theater to produce Wagner’s Ring Cycle outside of Bayreuth. Earlier in the 19th century it was a center for so-called German “Spieloper,” with premieres of Carl Maria von Weber’s Oberon, and other important firsts by Marschner, Lortzing and Schumann. In the 20th century, at times in the avant- garde, with Kurt Weill’s Mahagonny Songspiel and Ernst Krenek’s groundbreaking “jazz” opera, Jonny spielt auf. Soon after the reunification, two parts of Karlheinz Stockhausen’s Licht were premiered in 1993 and 1996.
I also went to see the house in which the young Erwin Schulhoff lived when he came to study in Leipzig at thirteen years of age. My interest in him and the subject of composers who were suppressed by the Nazis is not unknown, and so I was appreciative in a very personal way that the importance of one of these composers was recognized in a standard tourist guidebook. I cannot remember ever seeing a comparable reference to any other “suppressed” composer anywhere in the world. An entire page was devoted to him, including the address of the building in which he lived. I went to find it, a bit off the beaten path in what now seems to me to be a Russian-speaking neighborhood.
The building is currently being renovated. I took pictures of the construction site (which looks like any other), struggling to master my new iPhone. In its present condition the structure is without poetry, as perhaps befits Schulhoff’s fate in a Bavarian internment camp. But in an illuminating irony, a sign still hangs on a window. It reads: LIVE Guitar-Night, Jazz Session, Rock and Blues Session, Psychedelic Session. EINTRITT FREI (free admission). Almost exactly one hundred years ago, Schulhoff, with his classical education, passionately embraced and promoted jazz as the future of Western Music. He was in the Post World War I avant-garde and spent many a night, often until the crack of dawn, in such tiny establishments.
One might think that Leipzig has enjoyed all of this in a seamless and untroubled atmosphere, but it was not at all so easy. It maintained itself throughout the twentieth century’s turbulent political history. What is perhaps most admirable of all, is that music has remained deeply and firmly ingrained in the culture of this city. We all are aware of the hard economic times we are currently experiencing in our country, and worrying about the future of classical music, and rightly so. But it is nothing compared to what the Leipzigers have experienced in their history. I think we can draw inspiration from their example.
By: Edna Landau
To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.
The New Year presents us with a wonderful opportunity to take stock of our individual goals and priorities and address them with renewed vigor and dedication. For many of us, these may include some of the following:
For arts administrators, they may include summoning up the courage to explore new professional opportunities after many years in the same job. Those interested in teaching might add seeking out experienced, successful teachers for specific tips and information about how they got started, or applying to a recognized teaching artist program.
Here are some that I have come up with for myself:
I would love to hear from some of our readers with their own thoughts about how to make 2013 a particularly successful, meaningful and inspiring year.
A very happy 2013 to all!
To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.
© Edna Landau 2013
by Sedgwick Clark
April 22, 1972, was American composer Elliott Carter’s night to remember, when 2,800 listeners at Carnegie Hall cheered a stupendous performance of his Variations for Orchestra (1955) by Georg Solti and the Chicago Symphony. Solti brought him to the stage and the audience went wild. They were called out by the audience five times, with their faces more aglow with each appearance.
By an amazing coincidence, Lorin Maazel was leading the New York Philharmonic in the Variations at exactly the same time over at Lincoln Center. I caught Monday’s subscription concert, and while it’s iffy to accurately describe the performance qualities of such a complex piece after 40 years, I recall it as being flat as a pancake — as deserving of its tepid audience response as the CSO’s acclamation was two days before. Maazel motioned for Carter to stand in one of the boxes on the left. The audience paid barely any heed, so I shouted “bravo.” The composer turned in my direction, smiled, and bowed, Maazel walked off the stage, and the applause stopped as if sucked into a black hole.
To complete my anecdote, the Chicagoans had originally programmed the Variations in the Boston concert of their East Coast tour, but a standard repertoire work was substituted at the last minute. The Globe’s esteemed music critic and Carter aficionado, Michael Steinberg, was so miffed that he refused to review the concert, sending a stringer instead.
(Postscript, Solti wanted to record Carter’s Variations and couple it with Schoenberg’s Variations for Orchestra, but Decca/London would have none of that, pairing the latter with Elgar’s Enigma Variations.)
Carter’s post-war music was undeniably thorny, but I rarely missed a New York premiere. His early Boulanger-inspired, Coplandesque folk nationalism was not distinguished, and he himself knew that he needed to find his own voice. That happened in his 1950 First String Quartet, as Allan Kozinn noted in his perceptive Times obituary (November 6, 2012). Difficult as his music may have been to grasp at first, it rarely failed to pay dividends on rehearing, especially when Pierre Boulez was conducting.
Carter’s death of natural causes at age 103 on November 5 was not exactly a surprise, but it was unexpected nevertheless. His astonishing Indian summer output and good cheer whenever I saw him and his personal assistant, the clarinetist Virgil Blackwell, at yet another premiere seemed boundless. His last local appearance was at two performances of his Two Controversies and a Conversation last June at Symphony Space for a New York Philharmonic Contact concert. He was in a wheelchair, and his voice quavered a bit when interviewed, but my word what genes he must have had!
According to Zizi Mueller, president of the New York branch of Boosey & Hawkes, Carter’s publisher in his last years, we may look forward to the premieres of American Sublime, for baritone and mixed ensemble, written for James Levine and awaiting the maestro’s first performance, and Epigrams for piano trio, written for another of his champions, pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard. Also, the American premiere of Dialogues II, written for Daniel Barenboim’s 70th birthday and first performed at La Scala in November by the pianist, with Gustavo Dudamel conducting.
And to think that we named Carter Musical America’s 1993 Composer of the Year soon after he turned 85 because we didn’t want to be too late!
By ANDREW POWELL
Published: December 21, 2012
MUNICH — They all laughed eight years ago when Bavarian State Opera set Verdi’s Rigoletto on the Planet of the Apes, and the production fast vanished. Naturally, then, the return of the deformed ducal jester in a new régie last Saturday (Dec. 15) promised relative normalcy, perhaps even a faithful night at the theater.
So much for expectations. Young Hungarian director Árpád Schilling gets the planet right but strips the bitter tale of period, place, and — crucially — social order. Stadium bleachers substitute for Renaissance Mantova. The action unfolds, when courtiers aren’t sitting, near and on top of the prompter’s box. Costumes suggest nouveau siècle clones on vacation.
Sure, this opera has traveled before without falling apart, to 1940s New York and to Hollywood studio offices, for example, but always with Victor Hugo’s power structure intact. Schilling’s Duca operates with no apparent authority, and his Gilda plays a tough game: remote, not much of a daughter, and never the guarded innocent.
Under the circumstances, the cast on opening night toiled uphill. Patricia Petibon keenly projected Gilda’s music, even when required to deliver the gushy Caro nome from the bleachers (and among the vile razza dannata). But her Italian eluded comprehension and her trills were feeble. Joseph Calleja, singing at the epicenter of his repertory, made an ideal Duca. The closing diminuendo revealed powers in reserve and superlative control.
Franco Vassallo had a good night too, robust of tone and expressive against the odds. In a singular blemish, the long last Pietà of Miei signori, perdono, pietate went amusingly haywire, as if he (correctly) sensed his jester character was emoting without pull in the house.
Tackling Monterone and Sparafucile, the Russian bass Dimitry Ivashchenko got to toy with Schilling’s one inspired prop, a penny-farthing wheelchair that serves as apparatus of the assassin. His is a majestic voice, and every consonant and vowel of the text came across. Nadia Krasteva, from Sofia, who this year concluded a ten-year stint as ensemble member at the Vienna State Opera, deployed her warm chest voice to striking effect in the roles of Giovanna and Maddalena. Sadly the director gives her little to do but vamp, which she does well, even if it is not necessarily what she does best.
Marco Armiliato drew immaculate playing from the orchestra. He also held the attention of the Bavarian State Opera Chorus, normally a weak link. Tempos were moderate, occasionally expansive.
Only time will tell whether Schilling’s non-conception lasts longer than the Apes show, but it should be around until Dec. 30, when Planet Earth gets to see it via streaming. Fabio Luisi is slated to lead performances next summer. For context, Bavarian State Opera mounts three new Verdi productions in 2012–13, scheduling nine Verdi operas in all, to balance the nine Wagner operas due.
Photo © Wilfried Hösl
Related posts:
Netrebko, Barcellona in Aida
Kušej Saps Verdi’s Forza
Kaufmann Sings Manrico
With Viotti, MRO Looks Back
Verdi’s Lady Netrebko
By Robyn Guilliams, Esq.
Dear Law and Disorder
Why is it necessary for Canadian performers to obtain work permits in order to perform in the United States? Although Visas are not necessary, the work permit is necessary. Why are the artists not able to enter the way other business people under the North American Free Trade Agreement? Cultural industries exempt are books, films and recordings. Why is performance by artists in the USA not covered by the Agreement?
We get this question a lot from our “northern” artists and the answer, though simple, is frustrating: the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) doesn’t cover performing artists.
Just like performers from all other non-U.S countries, Canadian performers are required to obtain O or P work authorization to perform in the United States. It is true that certain types of Canadian and Mexican workers may enter the United States and work legally pursuant to NAFTA. Unfortunately, this NAFTA exception to the usual visa requirement does not extend to performers.
It’s also true that NAFTA includes provisions pertaining to “Cultural Industries,” which include the production, distribution and sale of items such as books and magazines, CDs, DVDs, and sheet music. However, these provisions of NAFTA do not apply to performances. For these reasons, the usual laws pertaining to the arts and entertainment industry – including those pertaining to immigration and taxes! – apply equally to Canadians as well as all other non-resident artists performing in the U.S.
As for “why” NAFTA does not cover performing artists and performers, you would have to ask the unholy alliance of lobbyists, legislators, diplomats, and bureaucrats who negotiate these things.
________________________________________________________________
LAW AND DISORDER WILL BE TAKING A BREAK FOR THE HOLIDAYS!
WE WILL RESUME ON JANUARY 8, 2013….JUST IN TIME FOR APAP!!!
________________________________________________________________
For additional information and resources on this and other 
legal and business issues for the performing arts, visit ggartslaw.com
To ask your own question, write to lawanddisorder@musicalamerica.org.
All questions on any topic related to legal and business issues will be welcome. However, please post only general questions or hypotheticals. GG Arts Law reserves the right to alter, edit or, amend questions to focus on specific issues or to avoid names, circumstances, or any information that could be used to identify or embarrass a specific individual or organization. All questions will be posted anonymously.
__________________________________________________________________
THE OFFICIAL DISCLAIMER:
THIS IS NOT LEGAL ADVICE!
The purpose of this blog is to provide general advice and guidance, not legal advice. Please consult with an attorney familiar with your specific circumstances, facts, challenges, medications, psychiatric disorders, past-lives, karmic debt, and anything else that may impact your situation before drawing any conclusions, deciding upon a course of action, sending a nasty email, filing a lawsuit, or doing anything rash!
By: Edna Landau
To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.
I am very grateful to my longtime friend and colleague, Albert Imperato, for sharing his time and expertise with me in connection with today’s blog post. Albert is a veteran of the public relations industry and Founding Partner of 21C Media Group, Inc. Most of the answer to the question below was formulated on the basis of a recent conversation with him.
Dear Edna:
I have enjoyed reading your blog and have noticed that there is a topic that you don’t seem to have addressed yet. It concerns interviews. I am a violinist in my early 30’s and am fortunate to have management; however, my manager hasn’t given me much guidance as to how to handle the interviews that sometimes precede my concerts. On some occasions, I have felt that I was too outspoken in an interview, or that I should have just talked less. Do you have some useful tips for me? —R.L.
Dear R.L.,
Thanks very much for your excellent question. Here are some guidelines that I hope you will find helpful in improving both the experience and the outcome of your interviews:
1) Know the exact nature of your interview. Will it be for radio, television, Internet or print? Will it be live or taped? Will it be for a profile of you or will your interview be one of several? If it is for a print publication, is the reader likely to be musically sophisticated or would they be considered more mainstream? This will help you in your preparation.
2) Make sure you know up front how much time the interviewer wants or you are prepared to give them. It will help you prioritize what you want to say. Review the allotted time with the interviewer at the start of the interview and try to keep track of it so that you don’t begin to ramble. In general, it is advisable to be as concise as possible, without sacrificing enthusiasm and warmth that might make the interview more meaningful.
3) Practice for the interview in advance with your manager, publicist (if you have one) or a trusted colleague. Prepare answers to any delicate questions you might anticipate. If you are doing a telephone interview, it might be wise to have bullet points in front of you to remind yourself of important things you want to say. Do not allow the interviewer to goad you into saying something you don’t want to say. Stick to your prepared answer and always remain respectful.
4) Bear in mind that you can introduce information even if you weren’t asked about it. For example, at a logical moment, you can say: By the way, I’m not sure if you were told that I have a new album out. When it comes to talking about future engagements, be careful not to divulge information that has not yet been released to the public by the presenter.
5) If you are asked a question that you don’t understand, ask for clarification. If you don’t know an answer, it’s better to say that you don’t know, than to speculate. If it’s not a live interview, you can offer to get back to the interviewer with an answer. It’s useful to take notes of key things you say during an interview (for future reference) if it doesn’t distract you too much.
6) If you are doing an in person live interview, try to arrive early so as to get comfortable with your surroundings. Arriving early also allows you to relax your body, clear your mind of any distractions, and summon up all of your positive energy.
7) Remember that there is no such thing as “off the record”, even if the interviewer agrees to it. Everything you say could be printed.
8) Try to avoid making negative comments because you can never know in what context they will appear. A joke may look different in print from what you intended. Keep a respectful tone and only say things you would feel comfortable having people read. Avoid controversial topics, such as politics.
9) Be wary of moments of silence. Many of us are tempted to speak in order to reduce the awkwardness at such times, but we are more likely to be off guard and say something we didn’t adequately think through.
10) Remember that you wouldn’t be doing the interview if your remarks weren’t expected to be newsworthy and enlightening. This should always be a source of confidence to you.
I asked Albert Imperato whether it’s possible to ask to see the questions in advance. He said that most writers prefer not to do this. They don’t want to compromise the spontaneity of the interview. It might be possible for a publicist to get a general sense of the thrust of an interview, especially if it will be live and on camera. In some instances, with print interviews, artists have been known to ask for the questions in advance and have given responses by e-mail, but this is more generally accepted in the case of performers who are universally acknowledged as having very busy schedules.
I hope these points prove helpful to you. Becoming adept at interviews is an art. You will undoubtedly learn from each one and before long, you will be able to teach others how to excel in them!
To ask a question, please write Ask Edna.
© Edna Landau 2012
Note: This is the final “Ask Edna” column of 2012. I wish all our readers a very happy holiday season and look forward to reconnecting with you on January 3, 2013!
By Brian Taylor Goldstein, Esq.
Dear Law and Disorder:
Last year I filed a P-1 petition for a group. I obtained a consult letter from AFM. When I filed a petition for their 2013 tour, the USCIS said I needed to get a new consult letter. I thought that union opinion letters are good for 3 years? Did that rule change?
No, nothing’s changed. There’s just a bit of confusion, that’s all. Union consultations for O-1B petitions are good for 2 years provided the artist is performing within 2 years of the date of the original union consultation letter. If that’s the case, then you don’t need to get a new one. However, this has never been the rule with P-1 petitions or any other category: O-2, P-1S, etc.
So, if you obtained an O-1B for an opera singer and you have an AGMA consult letter dated October 1, 2012, then that same consult letter can be used for subsequent O-1B petitions for the singer’s subsequent engagements through October 1, 2014. You just need to be able to provide a copy of the prior consultation letter. Even if the original consult letter was written for a different petitioner, you can still use it. It’s the identity of the artist that counts. However, if you obtained a P-1 for a group and you have an AFM consult letter dated October 1, 2012, then any and all new petitions will require new consult letters.
In your case, I assume you received a Request for Evidence (RFE) from USCIS. You just need to get a new consultation letter from AFM and attach it to your RFE response. That should do the trick.
________________________________________________________________
For additional information and resources on this and other
legal and business issues for the performing arts, visit ggartslaw.com
To ask your own question, write to lawanddisorder@musicalamerica.org.
All questions on any topic related to legal and business issues will be welcome. However, please post only general questions or hypotheticals. GG Arts Law reserves the right to alter, edit or, amend questions to focus on specific issues or to avoid names, circumstances, or any information that could be used to identify or embarrass a specific individual or organization. All questions will be posted anonymously.
__________________________________________________________________
THE OFFICIAL DISCLAIMER:
THIS IS NOT LEGAL ADVICE!
The purpose of this blog is to provide general advice and guidance, not legal advice. Please consult with an attorney familiar with your specific circumstances, facts, challenges, medications, psychiatric disorders, past-lives, karmic debt, and anything else that may impact your situation before drawing any conclusions, deciding upon a course of action, sending a nasty email, filing a lawsuit, or doing anything rash!