SCENETHIS WEEK

THE

THIS WEEK IN GW HISTORY Oct. 11, 1973: The University’s Women’s Rights Committee held a conference to encourage women to apply to GW Law School, which had previously

considered recruiting woment to be “economically unfeasible.”

D.C. BIKE PARTY DUPONT CIRCLEOct. 9, Free

Folger Shakespeare Library exhibition shows how Shakespeare evolved through the ages.

HERE IS A PLAY FITTED FOLGER SHAKESPEARE LIBRARY Oct. 6, Free

Georgetown shops and restaurants are offering steep discounts, live music and free champagne at Intermix.

DESIGN GEORGETOWNGEORGETOWNOct. 11, FreeCulture Join a group of D.C.

cyclists on a scenic bike ride around the District.

Military tanks patrolled the streets, spray paint cov-ered academic halls and SURWHVWHUV�ZHUH�KDQGFXͿ�HG�as intense scrutiny of one global organization became the University’s problem.

That was April 2000.GW will host the Inter-

national Monetary Fund annual meeting from Oct. 8 to 12, but 13 years ago, the University was stopped from hosting the meeting when nearly 10,000 protest-ers swarmed the city – and campus – during the Wash-ington A16 rallies against the IMF.

“As a student on cam-pus, it was amazing to see how our campus was trans-formed: We had thousands of people spilling onto campus, there were signs, marches,” said alumnus 0LFKDHO�,WWL��D�+DWFKHW�VWDͿ��photographer at the time.

Radical activists criti-cized the IMF for being un-democratic, placing heavy debts on impoverished countries and charging user fees for health care glob-ally. The outrage put GW a block away from chaos – the heaviest dose of mayhem it has faced this century.

Anticipating up to 30,000 protesters, the University put Plexiglas on the windows of the GW Law School and the 0HGLD� DQG� 3XEOLF�$Ϳ�DLUV�building, placed extra se-curity guards in residence halls and strictly required

GWorld for entry.One student stood in

front of an army vehicle near 20th and I streets, refusing to move until police pushed him to the ground.

There were few in-stances of violence, but the window of a GW po-lice car was shattered and Funger Hall was spray-painted. Roughly 600 people were arrested.

“People were protest-ing on top of the hippo [at Lisner Auditorium,]” Itti said. “You couldn’t tell if they were protesters or students.”

The next year, four days before the Sept. 11 attacks on the Pentagon, 8QLYHUVLW\� R��FLDOV� ZHUH�urged to pause classes in anticipation of more IMF protests later that month.

When the IMF annual meeting was pushed to November after the at-

tacks, the class cancella-tions persisted, leaving professors without make-up days.

The end of the month then saw protests against not only global capitalism structures, but an impend-ing war in Iraq.

The rallies seemed mi-nor compared to the hectic A16 protests, but the Uni-YHUVLW\�DQG�FLW\�R��FLDOV�IHOW�campus-wide precautions ultimately kept students safer, Trachtenberg said.

“The problem is not necessarily what happens, it’s the anticipation and planning for it,” former University President Ste-ven Joel Trachtenberg said in an interview last week. “We had no experience that was useful, because each of these events is slightly unique – it depends on the nature of the protests, the organizations, the cause, the temper of the times.”

The story of America’s artistic history is well-doc-umented on museum walls. Now, thanks to one GW pro-fessor, it will be told on mu-VHXP�Á�RRUV�

Once the government shutdown ends, that is.

Now in its 21st season, the Dana Tai Soon Burgess 'DQFH�&RPSDQ\� LV� WKH�À�UVW�dance company-in-residence at the Smithsonian Institute. The “Dancing the Dream” exhibition will begin in the National Portrait Gallery’s Robert and Arlene Kogod Courtyard on Nov. 16 after the Oct. 5 grand opening was postponed due to the government shutdown.

Rehearsals were set to be open to the public through-out October, a practice the company hoped would “de-mystify” the choreographic process, said Kelly Southall, a part-time professor in the Department of Theatre & Dance.

“The opportunity to in-teract directly with the artist within this creative moment is quite rare,” Southall said. “Museums have rooms full RI�À�QDO�SURGXFWV� IRU�SHRSOH�to view and appreciate or ponder. I think it will be a unique and refreshing change to include a work ERWK�LQ�SURFHVV�DQG�LQ�LWV�À��nal form as a feature of the exhibit.”

The exhibition explores

the transformation of Amer-ican dance by highlighting industry greats, from Fred Astaire to Beyoncé, through interview clips, video pro-jections, sketches and por-traits of artists.

“What’s neat about the exhibit is that you really get this timespan of understand-ing what American ingenu-ity and creativity means, and it’s really portrayed by these great choreographers and dancers,” said Dana Tai Soon Burgess, the com-pany’s artistic director and a GW alumnus.

The cast also includes À�YH�RWKHU�*:�D��OLDWHV�²�WZR�students and three alumni.

Burgess, the chair of GW’s Department of The-atre & Dance, was selected to serve as the museum’s À�UVW� UHVLGHQW�FKRUHRJUDSKHU�and to create two new works inspired by the exhibit. He was awarded the Univer-sity’s Incubator Studio Fel-lowship, which funds a faculty member’s work and research with local and visit-ing artists.

7KH� H[KLELWLRQ·V� À�UVW�dance, “Homage,” will use historic soundtracks and

choreography to pay tribute to artists who shaped the American dance landscape. Burgess poured through À�OPV� DQG� PXVLF� YLGHRV� WR�select choreographers and dancers whose passion and style he admired, ranging from Shirley Temple to John Travolta.

“As a dancer, it’s a fun challenge for me to try to capture, for example, Bob Fosse’s style or Katherine Dunham’s style, while also staying true to Dana’s style,” dancer and 2006 alumna Sarah Halzack said.

Company members hope the Smithsonian’s emphasis on a company-in-residence will lead to greater recognition of dance’s es-teemed place in American culture.

´6RPHWLPHV�� ,� À�QG�dance can be somewhat on the sidelines of our broader national conversation about art,” Halzack said. “This exhibit puts it front and cen-ter.”

“Dancing the Dream” will be open to the public from the start of regular Smithsonian operations to July 2014.

KELSEY RENZHATCHET REPORTER

DELANEY WALSH | PHOTO EDITORLeft: Diana Jaw, left, and Mark Pak compete in Jenga, while others played games like Cards Against Humanity and Mario Kart. Right: Thomas Foolery, located 2029 P St., NW, features cocktail kits comprised of two mini bottles of alcohol, a bottle of one of 15 specialty sodas, and candy such as Fruit Roll-Ups or Smarties. The bar opened in July and also sells grilled cheese and cookies

KAROLINA RAMOSCULTURE EDITOR

DELANEY WALSH | PHOTO EDITORGW closed campus in September 2001 when thousands planned to protest the International Monetary Fund and World Bank meetings that month.

Years after rocky protests, IMF returns to campus

DELANEY WALSH | PHOTO EDITORJonathan Russo, right, looks on as Clark Nickell carefully extracts a block during a game of Jenga.

t o ys

PHOTO COURTESY OF DANA TAI SOON BURGESS DANCE COMPANY

Instead of liquor bottles and beer taps, my eyes darted toward drawers full of candy and shelves stacked with Jenga, Don’t Break the Ice and Uno behind the bar at Thomas Foolery.

The white room glowed blue as I made my way through throngs of people play-ing Mario Kart, Connect Four and Cards Against Humanity. Most of the few tables were occupied by wide-eyed adults lauding and criticizing their friends’ Connect Four moves. Every few minutes, a Jenga tower fell apart, followed by the unmistakable “aww” of a game lost.

“This is like an adult day care,” my friend remarked, as I sat at the table, wear-ing a tiara, sipping a beer and adding to our Etch-A-Sketch masterpiece. “I could see

my future wife dropping me RͿ��KHUH�IRU�D�FRXSOH�RI�KRXUV�while she goes shopping.”

But never fear. People are still there to get drunk. And Thomas Foolery in Dupont Circle provides the perfect child-like buzz for your adult buzz.

Beneath the bar, a refrigerator holds PRUH�WKDQ����GLͿ�HUHQW�ERWWOHV�RI�EHHU��SULFHG�in tiers ranging from a $4 National Bohemi-DQ�WR�D����'RJÀ�VK�+HDG����0LQXWH�,3$�

At the bar, I ordered my go-to bottle, Newcastle Brown Ale, which was reason-ably priced at $5.

My group scoped out a corner table as another group packed up their games. Swooping in after them, we found that this particular table is known as “The Throne,”

requiring the one person seated to wear a sparkling, plastic, silver crown.

A few tables down, one party committed a heinous gaming faux pas: occupy-ing the Mario Kart table with the screen paused and unplayed. A grumpier pa-tron would have demanded they play or leave, but in the interest of journalistic integrity, I merely observed. Instead, I cursed them under my breath and continued to encourage the aggressive (or reckless) Jenga game being played by the man sitting a table over.

The competitive spirit of these simple games com-pletely transformed the level

of interaction. Here, it is com-mon to dramat-ically cheer for

random strangers play-ing children’s games.

You don’t want to browse Twitter or text while there

is a group of people you d o n ’ t know crowded around, emo-tionally in- vested in which block you are going to pull next.

But back to the alcohol.Liquor comes in single-serving bottles

that can be ordered with any of the bar’s unique soda options, including Cooper’s Cave Chocolate Soda, Rummy Grapefruit DQG�WKH�À�UVW�ERWWOH�RI�%DZOV�(QHUJ\�WKLV�UH�porter has seen in years. Most drinks come with Fruit Roll-Ups, Sour Patch Kids or oth-er candy at the bottom of the glass.

A chalkboard menu lists the bar’s food options, including grilled cheese sandwich-es and cookies.

Listed on each beer entry is the person who chose it, among them teachers, local business owners and an astronaut. Anyone can select a beer to add to the menu, but only after making a purchase and playing hop-scotch every day for 30 days.

This customer involvement is woven into the nature of Thomas Foolery. Hung on one wall is a series of pictures and baby pho-tos of the 49 investors whose crowd-sourced funding paid to open the bar.

The bar rules, framed on the wall by WKH� HQWUDQFH�� RͿ�HU� IXQ� ZD\V� WR� JHW� GLV�counts. To “Ice Someone,” you play Plinko WR�GHWHUPLQH�WKH�SULFH�RI�D�6PLUQRͿ��,FH�WR�force upon an unsuspecting friend. “Dance

3DUW\µ�RͿ�HUV����SHUFHQW�RͿ��DQ\�LWHP�LI�\RX�dress and dance like Carlton from “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.” If you visit during “Angry Hour” every day from 5 to 7 p.m., RUGHU�LQ�\RXU�´À�QHVW�DQJU\�YRLFHµ�IRU�D�GRO�ODU�RͿ��

7KH�EDU�VWDͿ��FRQWULEXWH�WR�WKLV�FRPPLW�ment for a good time. The friendly bartend-ers are quick to encourage shenanigans – the mere clank of my empty bottle on the bar quickly prompted a shout of, “Looks like someone needs another!” It was a welcome change from standing tip-toed over people’s shoulders trying to wave a bartender down with a handful of cash.

The energetic, jovial vibe makes Thomas Foolery a perfect spot for a small party or outing. With all of the emphasis on fun and nostalgia, it’s a guaranteed good time for al-most any or no occasion.

Both your 10-year-old and 20-something selves will thank you.

Thomas FooleryWhere? 2029 P St., NW (Dupont Circle)Cover? NoCarded? Yes to drink, no to enter“ANGRY HOUR” Get $1 off your drink from 5 to 7 p.m. if you order with an angry tone of voice. During the government shutdown, angry hour extends from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m.

Thomas FooleryBy Nick Rice

CAMPUS THROWBACK