DCDanceBlog

one day at earthdance i decided to spend some time moving in one of their gorgeous studios. at first, it didn’t come easily to me, and i wasn’t especially excited about what came out. “just keep going,” i told myself, but i felt stuck. finally i decided to work on choreography, thinking that giving myself a focus might help. it was really slow going, uphill the whole way. nothing flowed, seemed original, looked good. “stick with it,” i told myself. “just create. don’t worry how it looks.”

and then the most amazing thing started to occur. gradually i began to lose myself, my know-it-all consciousness, to the movement and the moment. i let go of my desire to do something that looked wild and fluid and allowed myself to simply do what felt right at that moment. in fact, it looked quite different from what i’d had in mind–was slower, more fleshy and physical, almost sensual. i realized later that i’d been inspired by two beautiful dancers i’d seen at a contact jam the night before.

i liked what i created, but it’s definitely different from what i think of as my style. i wound up spending 2.5 hours in the studio, and by the end the ideas were really flowing–but only b/c i stuck it out, got past the fears and the laziness, and remained present with myself instead of trying to create what i thought i wanted.

i’m beginning to feel increasingly that making art is a lot like loving someone. for me, that is. i have frequently found myself sitting around waiting for inspiration, perfect chemistry–and those are pretty amazing, when they hit. unfortunately, though, it’s not that often. and they don’t always last.

there’s an alternative, which i’m starting to find very attractive–and which is just as magical, in its own way. it’s about staying with what i have, given decent enough conditions, and making an effort to remain present and open, honoring what is in front of me. i think when i do that, often enough something great will come of it, something beautiful and rich and deep.

are you taking up all the space that you can? do you ever?

could you be taller? broader? more imposing? more you?

(hope it’s ok that i appropriated this image from the great dance blog)

there is something i really love about this new post by doug fox, about taking a 5 rhythms class in ny. this is my favorite part:

A little later during the class, Tammy had us break-up into two groups. She said that everybody who wanted to dance with a partner should go on one side of the room and everybody who wanted to dance solo should go on the other side of the room. Well, guess what happened? Me and the woman who had just danced together were on the partner side and everybody else went on the other side of the room.

it sounded like doug really let himself go–really let himself move–in the class, and i love that idea. i guess it’s b/c i don’t believe dance is just for “dancers.” everyone should know the joy of moving freely!

and now i’m off to my own freedom-seeking dance retreat–5 days up at earthdance!! yahoo, i’m so excited…actually probably too excited, given that i only have 5 days for dancing/headclearing/natureabsorbing/workforgetting/lifeinspiring…not quite enough.

there was an interesting piece in the ny times today, by the writer verlyn klinkenborg. he’s a beautiful writer who has the absolutely enviable job of writing (it seems) whatever he wants, as part of the times’ editorial page. most of his pieces are observations on writing, nature, life.

in this one, he’s describing the female students in writing classes he’s been sitting in on at a college in minnesota. he writes about their hesitancy to own their observations, to allow themselves to be authorities on their own experiences–and, by extension, on experience itself. 

he writes:

And yet that is the writer’s work — to notice and question the act of noticing, to clarify again and again, to sift one’s perceptions. I’m always struck by how well fitted these young women are to be writers, if only there weren’t also something within them saying, Who cares what you notice? Who authorized you? Don’t you owe someone an apology? …It’s a delicate thing, coming to the moment when you realize that your perceptions do count and that your writing can encompass them.

i like it because i think that’s the essence of creating art: respecting your own observations and perceptions, and realizing that, when you are truly honest about what you feel and what you see, they are as legitimate as anyone else’s. i think it’s only when you realize how unique and valid your ideas are that you begin to speak w/ an authentic voice, and begin to make something that matters. or at least that’s my thinking at the moment.

here is another piece on writing that my mother sent me. it’s a little hokey, but it’s basically about making art of any sort. in sum, the writer is saying “just do it. don’t worry if it’s bad; you will learn by doing. just do it.”

yes, i think that can apply to any art form.

today’s washington post featured a review of dana tai soon burgess’s new work by sarah kaufman. she was quite admiring of it, so it’s at least clear what she likes! classical modern, that’s my impression.

i haven’t seen anything by dana tai soon burgess (i’m never sure if one calls him dana, or dana tai, or dana tai soon, for short)…except once, actually. he did a piece for the millennium stage a few years ago that was part of a larger collaborative show w/ other choreographers from around dc and baltimore. his piece featured a woman who moved with what looked like a bag (made of cloth) over her face, and it evoked to me something or someone very ancient–egyptian, even. it was by far the most mature piece in the sampler and i was quite struck by it. but i haven’t seen anything since, and haven’t heard the greatest things about him since then either.

i saw a note in the ny times today (not available online, unfortunately), about an annual arts festival in paris called nuit blanche (white night). It’s an all night festival where they put candles and bonfires in parks and show performances in unexpected places around town, among other things. this is what wikipedia had to say about it:

The festival lasts from sundown until sunrise on the first Saturday and Sunday in October and began in 2002. Taken off from a similar German festival that began in 1997 (see Long Night of Museums), a Nuit Blanche will typically have museums, private and public art galleries, and other cultural institutions offer free admission to all, with the downtown core of a city itself being turned into a de facto art gallery, providing space for art installations, performances (music, film, dance, performance art), themed social gatherings, and other activities. The festival has spread to many other cities internationally.

i love the idea of an all night event…but this is something that’s been going on for a few years so it obviously already has a lot of public interest. starting something like that from scratch would certainly be tough, esp in a somewhat provincial town like this one.

i’ve been thinking of organizing a contact improv marathon, though, and the idea of doing one that goes all night long is very tantalizing. Recently a dutch guy who lives in Barcelona came to our contact jam and talked about the all night jams going on there. We all loved the idea, but I’m dubious whether even contact regulars, to say nothing of dc dancers who like contact but aren’t die-hards, would stay for those wee hours. Maybe just 12 daytime hours—noon to midnight, something like that—would be more successful, if less exciting.

thoughts?

i have nothing to say about dance right now. no rants, no raves, nothing i’m reading or thinking deeply about.

but it’s still with me, more subconscious thoughts about movement. while brushing my teeth, i become aware of my shoulders hunching up near my ears, and allow myself to breathe, take a moment, fully feel the floor and extend up and out. it’s amazing how long it takes for those little things, small alignment issues, to work their way into one’s consciousness and unconscious. there was a time when i only noticed my posture once every few days; now it’s every few hours or minutes, and i stand better even when i’m not thinking about it. but that process has taken a few years.

change is slow. altering our habits–especially our physical ones, i think–takes an achingly long time and requires a hell of a lot of determination. i see my mother, with her hunched shoulders, and have to accept that no matter how many times i say to her, “mom, shoulders!”, it will probably never change. 

but i hate it when someone says, “people never change.” of course they do; we’re all capable of it. it’s just very very slow. i watch myself in dance class and little by little, my awareness of my center, knees over ankles, head up, eyes aware, fingers extended–all those small things–is increasing. little by little. just like my ability to let go of things that bother me, accept my idiosyncracies, stay in the present, has increased. little by little.

jessica hartz of dance/metro dc asked me if i would post info about the org’s dancepass service for dc dance professionals. it looks interesting, so here it is:

DancePass

DancePass is a project of the dance presenters in the Greater Washington area and Dance/MetroDC, a local service organization for the dance community. The purpose is to increase audience and visibility for dance, while making performances more affordable for communities that might not otherwise possess the resources to attend. This discount is intended for dance professionals, arts professionals and students of dance.

How it works: Presenters will send special discount offers to Dance/MetroDC. Dance/MetroDC will then send email blasts to Metro DC DancePass holders indicating the terms of the discount. An email blast will be sent each time a Presenter makes a discount available. The DancePass card is only valid for performances highlighted in the email blast as presenters are not required to discount all performances.

To Apply: Visit https://substantiv.wufoo.com/forms/dancemetrodc-dancepass-enrollment-form/

Participating Organizations: American Dance Institute, BlackRock Center for the Arts, Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center, Dance Place, The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Joe’s Movement Emporium, Joy of Motion Dance Center, The Lincoln Theatre, George Mason University Center for the Arts, Publick Playhouse, Strathmore, Washington Performing Arts Society, and Wolf Trap Foundation for the Performing Arts.

ken, in his post below about the improv fest, writes that an audience wants to see something that pushes the boundaries of normal life, that is risky or expands one’s sense of what’s possible.

daniel burkholder, in his new blog act/re/act, writes about site specific dance and what makes it successful. he points out that the performance shouldn’t have to compete w/ lots of environmental activity, and that complex, layered work won’t always be effective in an outdoor setting.

these posts got me thinking about what works and doesn’t in improvised outdoor performances. i strongly recall, during the festival, being drawn to moments in a few performances where the dancers were doing something you never ever see on the street. once, it was tony and ilana covering themselves, methodically and slowly, with thick white paint. another time, it was one of kelly mayfield’s dancers getting hit with four full buckets of water. both were simple, physical acts that startled me and pinned me to my spot.

ahh, simplicity. so maybe outdoors, the details don’t come across as strongly, nor does the artistry. or maybe they can be good, but are ultimately not as compelling as something stark and physical.

what if i set a table–tablecloth, plates and all–and put it down on the middle of 7th street? and then methodically began eating steak and potatoes? i think people would look.

how about if i set up a chair and mirror and a friend began cutting my hair?

or if me and someone else began making out and taking off each others’ clothes?

definitely that last one would get a crowd. my friend who used to work for the animal rights organization peta said that they would often add footage of a woman taking off her clothes to the videos they were producing, simply b/c it always got attention.

but that just emphasizes that some acts are simply exploitative, meant to get attention–they’re not necessarily art. throwing an attention-getter into the mix is basically manipulation if it isn’t an intrinsic part of the piece.

one thing that can really grab observers and, i think, can always be an integral part of a piece, is a performer’s sense of presence. i was recently reading a new york times article about a flamenco dancer who apparently has an amazing sense of presence–she only has to move an arm and it’s high drama.

the idea of presence is something i’m strongly drawn to. mostly, i think, because it’s linked to being present, to incorporating elements of meditation into one’s performance. but it’s also a great concept b/c increasing one’s sense of presence is a very doable thing. some people have it more than others, doubtless, but it’s within reach of many of us who have no chance of getting our extension up near our ears, or doing backflips in order to entrance an audience.

so what is presence, exactly?

[this was spurred as a response in the previous posting by lotta. i’m making it an entry of its own because it describes something i relished about the festival which i’ve been meaning to write.]

i wish i was able to stay for your and amanda’s piece, lotta! from all reports it was quite fine. also, it fit with something that i saw happening at the festival, and want to describe. ilana highlights it in her reply:

> an expensive ticket or be in a classy theater. It works when
> passers by are engaged, and not feeling like they are not
> part of the inside joke. It sounds like that was the case
> last saturday. That rules!

this was my favorite thing about the festival, among many things i enjoyed.

when tony and ilana were doing tony’s Traveler piece, and tony ventured into the audience’ space, i so many times saw people responding with generosity and obvious enjoyment. that situation - being singled out on the street by a very strange character, with everyone watching - could have provoked defensiveness. perhaps it was the self-selection of the people who stuck around, but i think it was also tony and ilana’s shaping of the performance, and particularly his manner in approaching people - he’s such a distinctly friendly person, and that apparently conveys even through even the white mask.

i was even more suprised by my responses to kathryn williamson’s Fall Girl.

the surprise was partly in betrayal of my expectations. i was afraid that the manipulativeness of appearing to fall accidentally in busy crosswalks, as a “social experiment”, would come through at some level, and wind up alienating people. it was certainly invasive, in a sly way. and yet what i saw, perched off to the side, was surprisingly touching.

first and foremost, i saw sudden bridges appear where there were none before. almost completely unconnected individuals and small groups were disrupted for a moment on their solitary paths to reach out and attend to another stranger. people wandered off chatting with one another, lively and talking with strangers if only for a moment. someone stopped and reach into her purse for her stash of clean wipes, to help clean kathryn’s abrasians. i saw momentary glitches in the constant, unremitting flow of people through the crosswalks, in what felt like a momentary respite from alienation.

what’s more, i was surprised to see more similarity to conventional performances than i’d expect.

it’s not uncommon in dance performances to see dancers doing things that seem at the edge of people’s abilities - a bit of risk. how much of the audience interest is in the perverse fascination of the indy-500 racetrack’s “danger of an accident”? in essence theater/drama often involves showing people in situations at their emotional edge. even without the prospect of some injury, drama is an opportunity to get out of the everyday drone built around avoiding of change and risk. (i think that’s a more significant factor than the perverse fascination.) manipulation is often a part of any performance. whether or not the artist stops short of genuine opening, and settles for the cheap spectacle, might make the difference for me between and icky feeling of being manipulated or feeling a good connection with them and what they’re showing. all of these things hold in the same way for kathryn’s performance.

fooling myself or not, what i saw in the intersections was people stepping outside of their solitary paths and connecting with strangers - with the fall girl and with other passersby. people seemed to be getting something out of their and one another’s responses. i had the exquisite experience, perched in-the-know and above the crowd (on the stone rim around the metro center escalator), to see a repeated, seemingly choreographed disruption of the crosswalk’s flow, one that gave a brief relief from the ordinary isolation that seems hard to avoid in daily life. whatever the motives, manipulated or not, i was as touched in ways that i am by some of the most constructive conventional performances i’ve seen.

at many of the performances on friday, saturday, and sunday, i had an overarching sense of bridges being built, however evanescent, rather than walls. certainly the wonderful conditions had something to do with that - weather and hospitality of the neighborhood - not to mention my own relief at having the thing come off well. i think it was not just my projection, however. this is the thing i’m yearning to describe.

an artist has the upper hand when investing the effort to make a public performance. ilana alluded to being on the inside or outside of a joke.  my feeling is that, by making the space a part of the piece and vice versa, the artist connects with the place, and can provide bridges for the audience to connect within that.  that addresses a hunger i have for public places - reducing isolation.  that’s what i enjoyed so much.

(about the car racing analogy, i can’t resist paraphrasing a gag from an old tank macnamara strip, said by an advertising-shill character: “we asked our demographic how long they would watch grown men drive very fast in circles. the average response was ‘about two minutes’. we then asked how long if there was the chance of a serious accident. the response changed to ‘as long as it takes.’”)