Private domain /

Taylor's wonderful autobiography is, like his choreography, generous and exuberant, simultaneously candid and mysterious, and often surprising. As his internationally famous modern dance company celebrates its 31st season and Taylor (now 57) is feted with a MacArthur grant, this book announces his skill as a master storyteller in a medium other than dance. Loosely chronological, the work begins with his childhood and concludes with his retirement as a dancer in 1974-75. Taylor combines fact, fantasy, and journallike reminiscences in a facile, unmannered voice. He demonstrates how his personal world has shaped his artistic vision and is frank about professional and personal misadventures, challenges, and triumphs. Private Domain is an important addition to our knowledge of this artist in particular, and the world of modern dance in general. The first to be devoted completely to Taylor and his work, this engaging book, illustrated with more than 40 black-and-white photographs, should prove invaluable for undergraduates, graduate students, scholars in the field, and for general readers.-S.E. Friedler, Swarthmore College

The many facets of the personality and art of dancer/choreographer Taylor are illuminated in this sprightly, entertaining, and ultimately deeply revealing life story. (Ap 1 87)

Knowing that their career days and minutes on stage are numbered, dancers should live moment to moment. Heeding his own advice, Taylor writes his autobiography in the present tense. Explaining the longevity of his well-known dance troupe as a mixture of luck and hard work, he recreates his early struggling years when often he couldn't afford to buy food. He describes in depth his work with Merce Cunningham, Pearl Lang, George Balanchine, Martha Graham, Twyla Tharp and others in a footloose career that took him from Burma to Mexico. Dance, for Taylor, is above all a means of communicating, whether a performer shares private dreams or mimics daily gestures. This lyrical autobiography conveys the joys and frustrations of a life in dance, culminating in Taylor's wrenching decision to abandon performance for choreography when his body failed him. Photos. (April 21) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Anyone familiar with his dances or his dancing won't be surprised that Taylor's writing is vigorous, idiomatic and prone to puns. Ever the modern, Taylor keeps to the present tense--a choice which can make his story fly along, or can create unwarranted confusion (does he mean now or then?). Something else that's slightly disorienting: Taylor has managed to write an autobiography with two protagonists, himself and Dr. Tacet (a lecherous, artsy, alter ego). Their discussion, arguments and other dialogues sometimes run to several pages, with Taylor gallantly giving Tacet the best lines. Good as these conversations axe, after 300 pages, the convention becomes cloying. The book follows a chronological format, and concludes at about the same time as Taylor's dancing career. Taylor's tales of touring--especially in South America--are classic misadventures; and his profiles of famous people--such as Martha Graham and ""Twyla Twerp""--can be equally funny. But unlike most performers, who tend to treat their autobiographies as a chapter in the history of their art, this man's subject is very much himself. No one will accuse him of padding with names, dates or footnotes. People and places are taken up only insofar as they affect the author. Blunt about sex, drugs and his own mistakes, Taylor prefers an indirect approach to relationships, inspirations and certain emotions. Where other authors would have long passages of explication or introspection, Taylor will instead allow you to eavesdrop on a conversation with Tacet, or leave you to read between the lines. By book's end, Taylor succeeds in making his readers feel like voyeurs at a particularly interesting peephole. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.