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).