Below is a post-Yard journal entry. In a nutshell, I (and three other choreographers and eight dancers) headed out to Martha’s Vineyard for four weeks to become deeply involved in the creation of four new works (one from each choreographer). It was nice to be removed from usual life a bit before I open my show in Brooklyn on the 3rd, interesting to focus on a different project with some common approaches (being creative by isolating yourself with the elements you have to create). It was a sort of desert island before The Desert Island. The Yard’s outdoor studio, theater and cottages are located in the woods, far from civilization, not too far from the beach nor Chilmark Chocolates. I created The Witches’ Dance, with music by Verdi, Prodigy and Gavin Bryars. It’s a nice first shot at the piece – I will continue working on it in various forms, and hopefully bring it to a venue near you!
Quick links, for reference:
The Yard
Youtube excerpt from rehearsal of The Witches’ Dance:
The Journal entry:
Ah.
Here I am on my way out of Vineyard Haven, sitting at the stern of the ferry reflecting on the last four weeks of new environment, isolation and dance-making. Artistic residencies are so important! This was my first, at least the first in a creative capacity, and it’s totally evident how that compliment of available resources, absence (well, at least lowered accessibility) of distraction, sense of support of your work/process/vision (you were chosen for a reason), along with - and this is the important part – an ENDGAME, really make things happen. I also enjoyed being caught up in my fellow choreographers' momentum (thank you Sharon, Sarah and Howard). In so many life instances, we resist following our motivations, because the prospect of making it happen is just too large or complex… or at least seemingly. That’s why I love breaking things down, and if I ever got a tattoo, it might make reference to the value of demystification.
This idea kept resurfacing in the early stages of rehearsal, as I was introducing new material to my dancers (Abby, Hallie, Hana, Mindy, Tammy – some fine movers and interpreters there!) and I needed us to dive into it together, seeing the size or significance of each task (meeting and learning about my dancers, generating and developing movement vocabulary, choreographing a dance for me or learning a movement phrase and finding how you can speak through that vocabulary for them) as a culmination of many smaller, more immediately attainable tasks. But diving in is IMPORTANT – water doesn’t seem as cold once you’ve got your head under once, and like the one game of paintball I’ve played in my life, if you are too removed and observant in your strategizing and approach, the game is over by the time you fire your first swing.
Speaking of “getting out there and doing something, I must at this point share one of my favorite and most illuminating film scenes of all time. How many of us identify with the charge of this situation? How about the resulting action? It’s just beautiful and so clear watching from the outside. Again, if there were a way to tattoo the essence of this scene, I’d definitely consider it. Without further ado, a moment from The Life of Brian:
My high school biology teacher once said that the chemical that is released by our body when we get motivated like love, there are different kinds of motivations.
Good grief, it’s beautiful out here (on the ferry). Ladies and Gentlemen, the sun just came out…. We’re just nearing the harbor and passed through bouys tolling in the wake of the ship. I think my return to the city might be a bit of a shock – no more humidity nor smell of ocean and all of a sudden, pigeons outnumber spiders.
I tell you, I’ve had moments over the last three days, watching performances of the “finished” work The Witches’ Dance from a backstage alcove, when I wanted to jump into the fray myself. I think I will, soon – might turn a part of it into a solo, to get my hands on it directly. Of course that situation perfectly jives with my philosophy of “know yourself and your work well enough to share that depth of experience with the outside world, but know the outside world deeply or broadly enough to understand your work and yourself.”
I’m very into the value of empowerment, as an artist and human, which is why I am driven to guide my dancers to find this for themselves through my work. I’ve sensed that “magic” as a dancer before and have seen what happens to the work. Choreography is 80% about how it is directed/coached and performed, and the bare bones of WHAT we’re being asked to do (as dancers) must be approached in a specific way, otherwise it’s not that dance. I’m speaking broadly here, and perhaps this applies more to my work (at least my current work). As I choreograph, on others or myself, I don’t feel like I can, or am interested in “laying the movement on the dancer”. Instead, in choreographing a piece, I am designing a series of intentions, so that live performance is really a display of a person engaging in a sequence of related “quests”, like “jump through your arms, thread your toe through the space in front of you as you land, reach to the ceiling and twist your palms like your’re screwing in a small light bulb, your body gets caught in it’s own spiral, stopping the turn, and we reverse the action, unscrewing a larger light bulb, pass it behind you to move forward.” Have we gone nuts? Since I’m conscious enough to ask the question, I’d say no. Plus, if you haven’t taken a peek at the video clip, do, and if you have, look again… the directions I just described “result” in the series of movement leading to the dancers’ drop to the floor, before chorus of women’s voices comes in. It seems to work here, at least I’m excited.
Hmm, I should expand: If the dance doesn’t involve the appropriate sense of dynamic or awareness or intention, then it is just a set of moves. Ideally I want to give the dancer the information they need to fuel their own exploration. When the man fishes for himself, the fish he catches are larger.
Alright, in the spirit of Monty Python and metaphoric fishing, I’m off to indulge in “the sheer joy of doing”.