Arts Integration Program seeks collaborators in the fields of Science or Technology

Wallpaper Performance Company is piloting a new arts integration program in San Diego. This program called Process Works will bring live improvised dance performance directly to organizations in the fields of science or technology and their employees over their lunch hour. We are working to provide this opportunity free of charge for two organizations.

According to a 2013 study of improvised performance (published in Music Performance Research):

"An area of the brain known to be involved in sustained attention, working memory and the inhibition of responses, known as the Brodmann 9 area was much more active in both musicians (peformers) and listeners (audience) during the improvised performances."

If you are interested in learning more about Process Works, please check out THIS LINK for detailed information. Or email Alicia Peterson Baskel: aliciapetersonbaskel@gmail.com

My Solo Performance - June 12

I performed my solo at this (the improvised series) on June 12th and in that performance I found myself able to trust the present moment and my past assumptions/scores/ideas about this piece simultaneously.  This is the script of the dance I made as I witnessed it. All non-italicized language was spoken aloud by me in performance:

I've been having a really hard time determining which direction I want this piece to go. I have three titles that I've been toying with, but I've been hoping that by performance time, I would have a clear idea of which of these three titles to go with.  But I don't.

So, I'd like to ask for your help. I'm going to read you these three titles and I want you to choose which one you feel most resonates with you.

1. Structure Festival
2. First day of Freedom
3. Flash Fiction

(The audience individually spoke their decision with conviction. I did a show of hands and there were only 2 votes for Structure Festival and the remainder of the votes seemed to be dispursed equally between the remaining two. All involved were fully committed to their choice - I started with Structure Festival)

Have any of you been to a Structure Festival? (no hands raise) Let me give you a little background. In 2004, I attended Bates Dance Festival in Maine and there I took a three week choreography class with a man whose name some of you will recognize, Tere O'Connor. In our third week, Tere got almost silly excited about this week becoming what he called "structure festival"! What I remember most about this festival was our first assignment:

We were meant to choose a specific time, say 1pm - 1:10pm. We might be sitting at a cafe at the time, or anywhere else for that mater. In Tere's example we are at a cafe. At 1pm the dance starts:

A person walks in and orders a Latte - walks out
A second person walks in and orders an espresso - walks out
Some time passes
A third person walks in orders a...
I check my purse for some chapstick, can't find it
That third person walks by me carrying a croissant and a glass of water
I realize I'm hungry so I check my purse again for some money
I find the chapstick
I find the money
etc
etc
The piece is done at 1:10

Everything that happens, including where I put my attention becomes the journey of the dance. Our assignment was to notice our own dance structure and bring it to share with the class the next day.

At this point in the piece I lay down. I start to move my body from a fetal position. I notice the floor. I notice my arm moving on the floor. I notice for a moment that my movements may appear to be interpreting the structure I just laid out for the audience. This is not intentional. I find my way to standing. I continue to move for many minutes without speaking. Just following my own attention in an improvisation. I find myself on releve with my arms extended up. As they come down, I ask the audience a question.

What would you do if you'd been away for a long time? Imprisoned? Isolated in some way? Separated from society? What would you do on your first day of freedom? Feel free to speak this in your mind, to your neighbor, out loud...

People in the audience respond. Some whisper things I cannot make out. I hear several people say that they would want to hug all of their loved ones. I hear something about the ocean, and as these responses come in I continue to dance, moving in spiral patterns. Then I stop.

We went to K-Mart. K-MART! On his first day of freedom, he wanted to go to K-Mart. (I begin dancing now, while also speaking) He stood in the toiletry section for over an hour comparing deodorants.

Then more dancing in silence. I am imagining that I am dancing in the K-Mart. The tall cement walls. Neon lights. etc.

"Blue Light Special! Blue Light Special in aisle four!"

I begin running in figure 8's around the space shouting:

We ran. We literally ran. We ran. Literally. We ran. Literally. Literally. We were literally running...

On and on until the running stops

We made it to aisle four just in time to see the presentation by the man wearing his pop star headset microphone and bragging about how this machine was going to make the best salsa we'd ever tasted.

It was pretty damn good. So we bought one.

I start dancing then abruptly stop.

No, we bought five. One for me, one for Elizabeth, one for Lauri, one for Aunt Mary Jo and Uncle Greg, one for Mom and Dad. And wait, no, six. One for Bryce. I still have mine. It sits in the cupboard over the fridge. I never use it.

More dancing. I feel like I'm expanding on the story I just told, but not in any literal way. I've included two of the titles so far and feel an obligation/desire to introduce the third while dancing.  Speaking and dancing simultaneously.

Short Short, Sudden Fiction, Miniatures...I read an article from the New York Times about Flash Fiction this afternoon, doing some research for this piece. But many of their examples didn't do what I'd been taught Flash Fiction was supposed to do. Flash Fiction is meant to take you on a journey and then...

I do a gesture here that indicates the journey but then flips/twists/turns upside down at the end. I repeat this gesture several times.

I wrote a piece of Flash Fiction once. It was about K-Mart.

Or Plastic Tables
Or men in orange suits
Or those jalepanio hamburgers you heat up in the microwave

More Dancing as the energy of the room increases and we can hear the saxophone from the band in the bar below playing a loungy jazz tune. I place myself in the upstage right corner of the space.

I took Tere O'Conner's class just before lunch each day. It rained this particular day early on, but when I came out of my "business of dance" class at 5pm, the sky had cleared. On this side of campus was a beautiful large green lawn with trees that hovered high above. A pathway cut through the center at a diagonal. As I stood at the corner of this great field, I felt water trickling on my skin. But it wasn't rain. I've lived my entire life in Arizona or Southern California, so I'd never experienced rain AFTER the rain before. That canopy of trees had gathered water and the wind was gently blowing the trees, creating this 'rain'. It was incredible and in that moment I realized this would be my structure festival. To get back to my dorm, I'd have to walk this diagonal path, cross the street, and pass two homes before arriving at the house where I was staying. Whatever time it took, this pathway would be my piece.

I begin to walk on the diagonal in the space

I began my journey. I observed the people coming and going. I noticed dancers practicing contact improvisation in the grass to my left. The rain still sprinkling down. On my right was a gorgeous old white church, and I could hear a choir of angels quietly singing in my imagination. As I walked their voices grew. So lovely. Heavenly. Inspiring.

I sing some notes

This dance piece is lovely. I can't wait to share this with my class.

I've come to the corner and the sound of the angels is still getting louder. The trees and the church are now behind me and I'm looking down at the two yellow lines as I cross the street, but the choir continues. I notice the beautiful old homes. Now dormatories, but once richly decorated mansions. The shoe mill down the street also stands empty. But that's a story for another time. The choir hits a climax as I'm admiring the history of this old street. Then, I look down.

In the place where I am now standing, I shake my entire body for at least twenty seconds. I feel as if I am experiencing a siesure. Then I stop and stand for a moment in silence.

I probably don't need to tell you that the choir has stopped. I looked down and saw a squirrel's carcus. I was only a few feet away from my house. I walked the rest of the way to my house and up the stairs in silence.

I say that last line with my back to the audience as I imagine walking up the stairs to my dorm. I am now stageleft. I turn around to face the audience as I imagine I am standing by the front door.

I bow.

Thank you.

The Creative Process of Grant Writing

I'm a little embarrassed that I've let so much time go by without publishing a new post.  It's not that I haven't been writing…oh, I have been writing.  Grant writing.

As many of you may know, grant writing can be intense.

#1 - There is money on the line
#2 - There is money on the line
#3 - How in the world am I supposed to write about a piece I haven't even made yet!
#4 - Even if I can imagine a piece before I've made it, how do I write about it with clarity.
#5 - Budget??!!!

It can be exhausting, but…I love it.

Let me explain. Of course, I love to write about dance or I wouldn't have started this blog. But more importantly the grant writing process allows me to create a vision for my work. I've learned over time how to express clearly what I know about my process - timing for the project, location, collaborators, etc. I've also learned how to be transparent about what I don't know, but this can be difficult. Without knowing what my piece will look like when its done, I can share with my possible funders how I will go about creating the work, what questions I will work with, and what experiments I intend to pursue in rehearsal. They want to know that their money will be put to good use, and it is my job to be clear and confident about how I intend to make this project happen from beginning to end. (Always be sure to have several people read your work before you turn it in. This is incredibly important!)

I say all this as someone who actually hasn't yet received any money from a grant. I have, however, gotten great feedback on my grant writing from individuals who have years of experience on both sides of the granting process. While this is no consolation to actually receiving the funds, it is encouraging and keeps me engaging with this process.

Maybe more important than the money (though funding for the arts is the only way it can be sustainable) is the creative clarity that grant writing provides for me. It forces me to look at my process, create a timeline, gather artists, and create a concept. By the time the grant is due, I am ready to get started!!

Grant or proposal writing has become an integral part of my creative process and I would recommend it to anyone with a seedling of an idea. Explore the logistics, create a plan (an open/flexible plan of course), and let your imagination help you create your vision.  It's an important step toward making your work a reality.

I'll let you know what happens with these grants - fingers crossed.

Do you have a free evening (or 5) this week?

We all know just how much I love to see performance, but do you know how giddy I become at the thought of a performance festival?

The San Diego International Fringe Festival along with independent events at both Canvas Gallery and Space 4 Art make this a hot week for performance. Yesterday, I pulled out my calendar to arrange which show to see which night, and I really had to work at it. This has only happened to be on my two visits to european dance festivals (check out my Berlin and Prague blog entries), but this week it is happening here in San Diego!

In fact, there are so many performances that I cannot come close to seeing them all. Options abound. An added bonus - I don't think any of them are over $10. At this point it looks like I'll get to see at least five dance/music performances between now and Sunday. In fact, tonight, I will see two in one evening. I am thrilled! And also grateful that my husband will put our two year old to bed these nights. I literally have a "butterflies in the stomach" kind of excitement!

San Diego is a city with so much to offer in the arts. I encourage you to get out of your house this week and head to your local theatre or gallery for some inspiring and affordable live performance. You won't regret it.

Hope to see you there!

*San Diego International Fringe Festival
*Canvas Gallery
*Space 4 Art

Get excited about these San Diego performances!

As you may have gathered, I love witnessing performance. I love finding work that asks something of me and my attention, work that allows ME to put the pieces together and keeps me thinking or feeling something well after the final applause.

I have recently seen two such performances here in San Diego. One is described as a "generative song cycle" and the other a "multi-media puppet theatre workshop", but both are openly influenced by the practice of dance/movement improvisation.


Paper Cities (performances tonight and tomorrow night)

created by Iain Gunn and Animal Cracker Conspiracy
June 19 - 21, 8pm @ La Jolla Playhouse (free - but reserve your ticket!)
More info and tickets click here

This work takes audiences on an episodic journey in which the building of cities and knowledge threatens the innocence of our more natural state. The stage is cluttered with familiar objects - books, ladders, a typewriter, eye glasses, cardboard, and suitcases. These objects combined with theatrical imagery, projection design, a live music score, and the life-like characters that emerge from these cardboard puppets usher the audience through this non-linear narrative.

Almost everyone from the audience stayed for the talkback after the hour long performance, and Iain and Bridget seemed genuinely interested in hearing feedback and sharing insights. This is a workshop performance and the artistic team intends to continue to work on this piece for another year. Audience members were perplexed and confused by what they saw...but delighted. Some felt lost without a linear storyline, but were happy to hear details that helped them put their experience together in hindsight.

I saw this work-in-process two months ago at 'this' (the improvised series). While the earlier version didn't have the clarity of concept that Paper Cities has in its current state, I did miss the rawness and vulnerability of their earlier improvised work. I was more attached to the puppets in the earlier version, remembering an intensely tender moment between the mother and her son. Also, there had been a transparency to the puppeteers' performance quality that was replaced with showmanship in this version. The exciting thing is that these performers are interested in working on all of these details in the coming year. I recommend checking it out and I look forward to seeing how Paper Cities evolves.

animalcrackerconspiracy.com


#hackingIMPROV (performances every other Wednesday through July)

curated, composed, and performed by Blair Robert Nelson
June 25, July 9, and July 23 - 7pm @ Space 4 Art ($10)
More info and tickets click here

Blair Robert Nelson is a dear friend and collaborator of mine. Last week I saw his latest work, and I am truly excited about it. With the support of Kris Apple, Blair puts on a performance that would appeal to fans of music, theatre, dance, poetry, and visual art.  While the roots of his performance are clearly planted in music/sound composition, he explores what is possible as a performer within his own work. His movement is subtle but consciously chosen. He reminds me of a conductor of sorts, guiding and responding to his audience simultaneously. We are clearly participating in his experience and therefore an active element in the piece. I enjoyed watching him trust the piece as it arrived. In fact, I hated to take my eyes off of him, he was compelling to watch.

This work is refined, clear, genuine, and thorough.

Refined - He is not resisting/rebelling against anything. He knows who he is.
Clear - He knows who he is. He listens to and trusts his intuition in every moment
Genuine - He listens to and trusts his intuition in every moment. He is transparent and sincere.
Thorough - The journey of the piece was complete (and terribly interesting)

Please put it in your calendar.

blairrobertnelson.com

Magic - that's all I'm asking for!

I thrive on the unfolding of work through its own sometimes mysterious process. A process I've dedicated myself to trusting at all costs.  One particular rehearsal on May 27th reminded me just how much I can trust this art-making process.

It started at 9:45am in the SDDT studio at Dance Place in Point Loma as I rehearsed my solo alongside my friend and trusted colleague, Liam Clancy.

The more we talked about our pieces, the more I found myself feeling perplexed about where my solo was going. I had committed to performing this solo on June 12th for 'this' (the improvised series), but doubted I even had a solo. A few weeks earlier, I'd been interested in using some of my past writing pieces and drawing inspiration from their underlying stories. When I brought my writings into rehearsal, performing them felt arbitrary. They were complete as writings. I toyed with the idea of simply reading them in performance, but the pieces lost the intimacy that comes from reading work privately. I decided to let it all go.

I wondered if I actually wanted to speak in this performance. Was my use of language in performance cutting me off from allowing my movement to speak? I've rehearsed without speaking. It feels good...but I love language.

I told Liam about my dilemma. He suggested we alternate through both our pieces. He'd do his beginning, then I'd do my beginning, then he'd do middle, etc.  We tried it.

My piece was broken up into 5 parts. The first two parts I moved my body but I did not speak. Then on my third round, I felt inclined to sit and tell a story. This was a break through.  In this third round, I allowed myself to tell stories and reveal why I was grappling with telling these stories. I was transparent. I was honest. I was awkward. I was present. I was noticing what choices I was making choreographically. I was everything I hope for in a performer and it felt easeful.

Parts 4 and 5 were magical.  Movement and language worked together to create something larger than either could produce separately.  In the end, as I looked back on the journey of the piece, I appreciated its completeness, its evolution, its artistry, its magic.

That's all I'm asking for from my work, just a little bit of magic.


Come see my solo on June 12th at this (the improvised series)

'hi' - Writing as Dance

I was inspired to write a response to Liam Clancy's solo 'hi' at the May 15th 'this' (the improvised series) at the Expressive Arts Institute in Point Loma:

Were you the director or the interior designer or possibly the camera's lens? Maybe so. But soloist? No. Only an ensemble - light, jar, face, hand, buildings/city, pink light of the sunset reflecting on windows, Daughter and Friend. For a brief moment my viewpoint shifts to the eyes of those socializing below. What do they notice? How do they feel about this brief encounter? 

Flying objects make noise and much time has passed.  

You return and we notice the box of light is blurred, dispersed, as if "art" had put her hands all over it- or time - or time as art - or just process which I tend to call art.  

Then the door opens and I realize I've been giving my attention only to what I can immediately see. Its as if a forgotten character is introduced to the story. Not a new character (what would that have done to my story?) but rather someone I forgot to remember.  And now you are moving in and out of that dispersed spotlight while this new character lingers.

And then - the airplane and the bird - before this moment, I'd decided to ignore them. They can be so obvious...until now. And now their voices mean something. And now your voice means something new. And your connection with those we know you love means more and is and should be.

The piece has become a chorus and the conductor calls end.


For more information about this (the improvised series).

Thoughts on Improvised Performance

San Diego is known for its beaches, sunshine, and laid back lifestyle, but few know San Diego as a place for cutting edge dance.  And even fewer realize that San Diego is a place where much research is happening in the way of improvised performance.

Contemporary dance artists have long wrestled with the assumption that improvised dance is somehow less rigorous than choreographed work. Even this distinction between improvised and choreographed is an insufficient way of viewing dance.  I tend to view dance on a spectrum that exists between “set” and “open”. I might add that there is no such thing as a completely “set” piece of work in dance, since our humanness/liveness naturally offer variation from one performance to the next.  Also, there is no such thing as a completely “open” dance, since each dancer brings with her the influences of her own physical and emotional history.

This expansive space between these two impossible extremes is what I am deeply interested in. I feel grateful to be surrounded by other artists who are grappling with these distinctions - diving deeply into embodied research on presence, relationship with audience, relationship with space, connection, disconnection, structures of time, structures of space, content of movement, meaning, memory, imagination, listening, seeing, responding, choice, design...this list could go on.  What I find even more exciting is that within each topic exist millions of potential experiments and viewpoints.

This is why I believe improvisation in dance deserves/needs to be both performed and seen. It is not merely a “style” of dance but a way of being in the world.  A way of never allowing life to become “fixed” or “stale”. A reminder to listen to what my intuition is asking of me at every given moment.  A reminder of my own responsibility, giving me ownership of the choices I make. Improvisation requires that I recognize the evolution that inevitably occurs with time passing. It allows a parent to respond to the changing needs of a child, a doctor to see each patient as an individual, a builder to make adjustments that could make a home safer in its specific environment/location.

Improvisation is about listening.  Improvisation is NOT about entering a space completely blank, but rather showing up prepared with tools (used both consciously and unconsciously) such as movement techniques, performance techniques, practice/experience, and maybe even a plan, score, or structure of some kind.  Much like the parent who reads books on parenting, the doctor who goes through years of schooling, or the builder who locks his tools safely in his pickup truck, not one of us comes to our jobs empty handed. The good ones come prepared.  The great ones come prepared AND willing to listen.

***Please come see improvised performance - "this" (the improvised series).