Friday, June 20, 2014

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



Monday, June 9, 2014

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)

Thursday, June 5, 2014

'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).