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)