I haven't run out of steam about this experience yet, and I just saw Julie & Julia (which is a movie about a blog, among other things) so here I am working through some obsessive thinking fueled by the interest expressed by . . . well, by six people. This is for all of you.
I am so grateful to Angela, the wonderful dancer whom I worked with on Day 2 who had initially been unsure about working with me; I can't even retype the lovely things she told me the last day and in emails she sent me. She expressed her appreciation for working with me in the most kind, insightful, and caring way and I will never forget it.
And Caitlin, the daring somersaulting cartwheeler who did the ultra-cool playground piece with Debbie and Arianna on the last day, wrote also, encouraging me to continue and to not worry about the age gap that might happen in such a setting. When I read her note, I worried that I had sounded too discouraged in the blog, but we both know that I'm planning on going back for more (and of course, continuing the 2-3x/week dance work here in L.A.). She is one of the blog readers--a few people have actually read this whole thing!
Debbie and I have kept in touch. She has not let me off the hook with this blog (yes, another member of the audience!) and gave me the idea to create a letter book for my mom while my mom's still around--we will see what happens with that.
I have a half-dozen projects to finish in the next week and here I am typing this. I'm backing off for now but will be back.
My best to all of you reading this.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Pilobolus Day 5: Final Projections
I'm not sure where to start with today's entry. Keep in mind that I'm writing it two weeks later, so it won't be as immediate as the first three entries were. But since I haven't stopped thinking about it, it should have some kick still left in it.
Might as well put in the clip that Debbie filmed of my final piece, so here it is. The music Matt chose was perfect: the Dire Straits minor blues "Fade to Black." I suppose the piece is about struggle, more specifically about dealing with a reluctant limb. I'll post other people's final projects if they want me to; for now I'm just putting up this one clip.
We saw Pilobolus perform in New York the night before, and some of what we saw worked its way into the improvs and pieces that were presented today. I had brought a video camera from work to learn how to use it and shot most of today's work.
Today Matt and Emily were much more involved in our morning improvs; Matt even joined in several times as co-conspirator. They both periodically stopped the music (all week, we almost always worked with music running, and their tastes range deep and wide--I need to find out the artists since I love learning new music) to contour/influence/curtail/establish a better narrative for what was happening. He was pushing us for more interesting results, asking for more arch, more bend, more presentation of effort. At one point someone asked Matt about which way to do something, that there was more than one way that looked as though they would work. He asked which way was harder, and said that would be the best way.
I read that to mean that genuine effort makes the best presentation, which makes sense in a performance context. It's just hard!
Our first activity was a full-group exploration of the space; I can't remember which we did: it was either random walking and directed speed changes leading to something OR we lined up at one end of the room and played follow-and-modify the leader as we got to the other side; last person there then leads the group back. I like this approach quite a bit: the idea is that the movement is transformed as you witness those ahead of you making their own modifications to the movement; by the time the last person makes the crossing, there is likely no resemblance with the pioneer who left first. A few rounds of that and it's a tremendous workout and great awareness training. Matt and Emily brought up awareness frequently--what we marvel at when witnessing marvelous movement is often the result of heightened awareness in the performers. It's why watching a great string quartet can be so electrifying: yes, the notes are all written down, but a great ensemble is way deeper than the notes--those are just starting points. It's the same thing here.
Since Adria took photos and I have video of this day, I'll was going to let the audio-visual materials do most of the talking. But I'm going to give quick highlights of the morning improvs. And there was one occurrence that is not on video which must be recorded somehow: Jenny's air walk. Keep reading . . .
In the small-group improvs, Matt was very hands-on. He lifted Angela by the shoulder and crotch and flew her around, and she kept bending her legs forward. Emily came on and Matt demonstrated what he was after with her--Emily became a plank, then actually arched her back in flight, then landed. That's all Angela needed--Matt lifted her again and Angela was in the zone. She hopped with joy when she landed: she had it.
Poor John and Brent! They must have done 10-20 head lifts of their partners (Alissa and Lizzie), who were straddled backwards over their shoulders. Matt was focusing more on what the lifted women were doing, but the lifters were really working hard: up, down, up, down like pistons. I asked John about it later and he said that it was okay at first but that he felt it later. And Alissa became the most thrilling hood ornament. Her joy in the higher altitudes made me smile. She sprang to position over and over once John was fully standing each time and looked as though magnets were holding her there.
Caitlin and Debbie had a very cool dance that developed from a sort of tableau idea suggested by Emily: one still picture leading to another; the transitions are the movement. My favorite part was Caitlin scooting between Debbie's legs to break the spell between two of the poses. They ended as they started, with Caitlin's head in Debbie's hands.
Stella and Cynthia worked with dragging, weight shifts, and the floor. They are both so trusting of each other and the audience, and so interesting to watch, with their long sinuous forms, and they never rushed anything, ending with a full locked-body unison roll away from the center of the floor.
Matt partnered with Lizzie, who is willing to try anything and resembles a human pipe cleaner. He lofted her to his shoulder while she dangled behind him and held poses, then he got her into a sideways double cartwheel (I'm making up names here): they became a very slowly turning wheel. Matt modeled great recovery ideas. When the wheel lost its movement, he made something else happen on the floor.
Wen then partnered with Arianna, who has been such a good sport all week, serving as a fulcrum/platform for so many activities due to her strength and steadiness. It wasn't until the end of the week that I noticed how fluid and graceful her movements are; she can do beautiful coiling movements. It's easy to see that she loves to dance, and the poetic impression I have is that the dance likes being danced by her.
The direction came for Wen to stand on Arianna's shoulders, and Matt helped out to steady Wen as Arianna un-kneeled a little to be able to move and Wen rose! Wen was not entirely steady at first and Matt reached up and held her hand from the ground, then she walked from Arianna to Matt, who held her feet in his hands while she kept in touch with his shoulder. It was pretty impressive to watch this slow-motion gravity dance.
Matt then brought Angela on for a nice pairing of pairs. Emily gave the advice that "it's best to not show your butts all the time." And had Arianna pick her up so Emily could demonstrate.
Jenny and Roald came on and were having so much fun trying things out in front of us. I loved when they would use each other's elevated feet to balance while one was in a handstand, for example. They demonstrated a caring awareness of each other that allowed them to be loving and playful. After Roald rolled (forgive me) Jenny up his body, then over, she was on his shoulders, then stood on his hands, sitting on his head while he walked them forward, a totem with locomotion.
The morning continued with a two-group improv to "Psycho Killer." Stella ended up on top of one group with Debbie on the other. I think Stella's group won. I don't know what they won, but there were some delighting surprises of engagement and transition throughout.
Another two-group improv involved the fibrous red battery ball.
The final large-group (everybody, including me) of the morning took place mostly off-camera, sadly (I set it on the speaker cabinet and left it there), and was when a very cool thing happened. We were packed tightly together and Jenny was (as was often the case) airborne; i.e., on someone's back or shoulders. I don't remember if the idea came from Matt or from within the group, but suddenly we were obliged to cup our hands together to form steps for Jenny as she walked above us. We became a human people mover, like the conveyor escalators at airports. Once Jenny's weight was off our step, we moved to the end of the line to be a step again. Jenny's astonishing trust and balance, despite our four rigorous days of activity, were inspiring and memorable. Only the tail end of this improv is in the video (the camera was on the floor and we were out its field), so we can see Jenny coming down, onto John's shoulder after the steps were done.
We also formed a floor-based transport system, like an assembly line with rollers, except it worked like this: we just lay on the first person in the structure and were moved by them to the end, above them. We just had to lie there and be moved. It was fun and sort of a response to the airborne work Jenny had done earlier in the same improv. I rolled off of Lizzie accidentally, but she grabbed me and rolled me back up and sent me on my way to the people factory.
At lunch Lizzie climbed the tree outside, fun for all.
I had been thinking about going solo for a couple of days, for a lot of reasons, and during lunch asked Emily if she thought that was a good idea. "Let's go for it!" she said, so we did. I mean I did. Her enthusiasm was key to my decision, though.
One of my favorite parts of the week was the pairing up of groups to give feedback to each other halfway through the 60-90 minute work time in the afternoon. I (my solo "group") was lucky to have the trio of Debbie, Caitlin and Arianna, and they gave me some GREAT suggestions (I couldn't implement all of them, but they came up with the idea of accelerating my looping movements in the beginning, for example) and I found it very easy to comment on what they had prepared so far of their playground idea, which came off beautifully: they had a swingset, a slide, leapfrogging, cartwheeling, and a seesaw.
So this was the day we had been told that Robby Barnett, artistic director and a Pilobolus co-founder, would be there, and he was. Renee Jaworski, artistic associate and a current dancer with Pilobolus, also came to witness our final afternoon performances.
I went first and was glad I did for a few reasons: I wanted to be able to fully enjoy the other pieces, which I figured would be harder as long as I was thinking about my own; I wanted to make sure I remembered what I had put together, short though it was; I like diving in; and I felt good about what I had created and wanted to present it while I still had some momentum. And after it was over Matt said it was brave of me to go first. That was nice to hear.
After all the pieces were done, we said goodbye to our guests and then the workshop met in circle. Instead of general chatter, Roald asked us to each state what we would bring with us from the week, so that was our guidepost. Lizzie had to leave quickly, so we kept things short, in retrospect a good thing as without time limits we probably would have left too late.
I talked too long but said what I wanted to say, that I am grateful for learning nowadays from people much younger than I, and I particularly thanked Roald for his help Wednesday (and he nudged me Friday to make sure I joined in the final full-group improv of the day, which I was set to do anyway but he didn't know that) and terrific teaching style. I also mentioned how different the work was from what I do at home in that we don't use our hands to hold or grab in the Dance Alive work, whereas all this week long we were yanking and pushing and directing with our hands.
After the circle, everyone was cooperative as I offered to take shots of bruises. "Where do I start?" was Adria's question. She paid her bruise dues! Here's the set:
I am still, two weeks later, excited by what happened there and everyone who talks to me about it notices how elated I am. I hadn't seen Dolores in a few weeks, but she told me after seeing me in class this morning that she sensed a lifting of weight from me.
Matt and Emily ran a terrific workshop, informed by their real experience and experimental spirits. They are also much younger than I am and were considerate and genuine the entire time. They held the space for a transformative experience and they did it with power and grace to spare. Thank you, Matt! Thank you, Emily! Thank you, fellow movers in the workshop! And thank you to my moving teachers and friends at home. I would not have had this elevated week without you.
Might as well put in the clip that Debbie filmed of my final piece, so here it is. The music Matt chose was perfect: the Dire Straits minor blues "Fade to Black." I suppose the piece is about struggle, more specifically about dealing with a reluctant limb. I'll post other people's final projects if they want me to; for now I'm just putting up this one clip.
We saw Pilobolus perform in New York the night before, and some of what we saw worked its way into the improvs and pieces that were presented today. I had brought a video camera from work to learn how to use it and shot most of today's work.
Today Matt and Emily were much more involved in our morning improvs; Matt even joined in several times as co-conspirator. They both periodically stopped the music (all week, we almost always worked with music running, and their tastes range deep and wide--I need to find out the artists since I love learning new music) to contour/influence/curtail/establish a better narrative for what was happening. He was pushing us for more interesting results, asking for more arch, more bend, more presentation of effort. At one point someone asked Matt about which way to do something, that there was more than one way that looked as though they would work. He asked which way was harder, and said that would be the best way.
I read that to mean that genuine effort makes the best presentation, which makes sense in a performance context. It's just hard!
Our first activity was a full-group exploration of the space; I can't remember which we did: it was either random walking and directed speed changes leading to something OR we lined up at one end of the room and played follow-and-modify the leader as we got to the other side; last person there then leads the group back. I like this approach quite a bit: the idea is that the movement is transformed as you witness those ahead of you making their own modifications to the movement; by the time the last person makes the crossing, there is likely no resemblance with the pioneer who left first. A few rounds of that and it's a tremendous workout and great awareness training. Matt and Emily brought up awareness frequently--what we marvel at when witnessing marvelous movement is often the result of heightened awareness in the performers. It's why watching a great string quartet can be so electrifying: yes, the notes are all written down, but a great ensemble is way deeper than the notes--those are just starting points. It's the same thing here.
Since Adria took photos and I have video of this day, I'll was going to let the audio-visual materials do most of the talking. But I'm going to give quick highlights of the morning improvs. And there was one occurrence that is not on video which must be recorded somehow: Jenny's air walk. Keep reading . . .
In the small-group improvs, Matt was very hands-on. He lifted Angela by the shoulder and crotch and flew her around, and she kept bending her legs forward. Emily came on and Matt demonstrated what he was after with her--Emily became a plank, then actually arched her back in flight, then landed. That's all Angela needed--Matt lifted her again and Angela was in the zone. She hopped with joy when she landed: she had it.
Poor John and Brent! They must have done 10-20 head lifts of their partners (Alissa and Lizzie), who were straddled backwards over their shoulders. Matt was focusing more on what the lifted women were doing, but the lifters were really working hard: up, down, up, down like pistons. I asked John about it later and he said that it was okay at first but that he felt it later. And Alissa became the most thrilling hood ornament. Her joy in the higher altitudes made me smile. She sprang to position over and over once John was fully standing each time and looked as though magnets were holding her there.
Caitlin and Debbie had a very cool dance that developed from a sort of tableau idea suggested by Emily: one still picture leading to another; the transitions are the movement. My favorite part was Caitlin scooting between Debbie's legs to break the spell between two of the poses. They ended as they started, with Caitlin's head in Debbie's hands.
Stella and Cynthia worked with dragging, weight shifts, and the floor. They are both so trusting of each other and the audience, and so interesting to watch, with their long sinuous forms, and they never rushed anything, ending with a full locked-body unison roll away from the center of the floor.
Matt partnered with Lizzie, who is willing to try anything and resembles a human pipe cleaner. He lofted her to his shoulder while she dangled behind him and held poses, then he got her into a sideways double cartwheel (I'm making up names here): they became a very slowly turning wheel. Matt modeled great recovery ideas. When the wheel lost its movement, he made something else happen on the floor.
Wen then partnered with Arianna, who has been such a good sport all week, serving as a fulcrum/platform for so many activities due to her strength and steadiness. It wasn't until the end of the week that I noticed how fluid and graceful her movements are; she can do beautiful coiling movements. It's easy to see that she loves to dance, and the poetic impression I have is that the dance likes being danced by her.
The direction came for Wen to stand on Arianna's shoulders, and Matt helped out to steady Wen as Arianna un-kneeled a little to be able to move and Wen rose! Wen was not entirely steady at first and Matt reached up and held her hand from the ground, then she walked from Arianna to Matt, who held her feet in his hands while she kept in touch with his shoulder. It was pretty impressive to watch this slow-motion gravity dance.
Matt then brought Angela on for a nice pairing of pairs. Emily gave the advice that "it's best to not show your butts all the time." And had Arianna pick her up so Emily could demonstrate.
Jenny and Roald came on and were having so much fun trying things out in front of us. I loved when they would use each other's elevated feet to balance while one was in a handstand, for example. They demonstrated a caring awareness of each other that allowed them to be loving and playful. After Roald rolled (forgive me) Jenny up his body, then over, she was on his shoulders, then stood on his hands, sitting on his head while he walked them forward, a totem with locomotion.
The morning continued with a two-group improv to "Psycho Killer." Stella ended up on top of one group with Debbie on the other. I think Stella's group won. I don't know what they won, but there were some delighting surprises of engagement and transition throughout.
Another two-group improv involved the fibrous red battery ball.
The final large-group (everybody, including me) of the morning took place mostly off-camera, sadly (I set it on the speaker cabinet and left it there), and was when a very cool thing happened. We were packed tightly together and Jenny was (as was often the case) airborne; i.e., on someone's back or shoulders. I don't remember if the idea came from Matt or from within the group, but suddenly we were obliged to cup our hands together to form steps for Jenny as she walked above us. We became a human people mover, like the conveyor escalators at airports. Once Jenny's weight was off our step, we moved to the end of the line to be a step again. Jenny's astonishing trust and balance, despite our four rigorous days of activity, were inspiring and memorable. Only the tail end of this improv is in the video (the camera was on the floor and we were out its field), so we can see Jenny coming down, onto John's shoulder after the steps were done.
We also formed a floor-based transport system, like an assembly line with rollers, except it worked like this: we just lay on the first person in the structure and were moved by them to the end, above them. We just had to lie there and be moved. It was fun and sort of a response to the airborne work Jenny had done earlier in the same improv. I rolled off of Lizzie accidentally, but she grabbed me and rolled me back up and sent me on my way to the people factory.
At lunch Lizzie climbed the tree outside, fun for all.
I had been thinking about going solo for a couple of days, for a lot of reasons, and during lunch asked Emily if she thought that was a good idea. "Let's go for it!" she said, so we did. I mean I did. Her enthusiasm was key to my decision, though.
One of my favorite parts of the week was the pairing up of groups to give feedback to each other halfway through the 60-90 minute work time in the afternoon. I (my solo "group") was lucky to have the trio of Debbie, Caitlin and Arianna, and they gave me some GREAT suggestions (I couldn't implement all of them, but they came up with the idea of accelerating my looping movements in the beginning, for example) and I found it very easy to comment on what they had prepared so far of their playground idea, which came off beautifully: they had a swingset, a slide, leapfrogging, cartwheeling, and a seesaw.
So this was the day we had been told that Robby Barnett, artistic director and a Pilobolus co-founder, would be there, and he was. Renee Jaworski, artistic associate and a current dancer with Pilobolus, also came to witness our final afternoon performances.
I went first and was glad I did for a few reasons: I wanted to be able to fully enjoy the other pieces, which I figured would be harder as long as I was thinking about my own; I wanted to make sure I remembered what I had put together, short though it was; I like diving in; and I felt good about what I had created and wanted to present it while I still had some momentum. And after it was over Matt said it was brave of me to go first. That was nice to hear.
After all the pieces were done, we said goodbye to our guests and then the workshop met in circle. Instead of general chatter, Roald asked us to each state what we would bring with us from the week, so that was our guidepost. Lizzie had to leave quickly, so we kept things short, in retrospect a good thing as without time limits we probably would have left too late.
I talked too long but said what I wanted to say, that I am grateful for learning nowadays from people much younger than I, and I particularly thanked Roald for his help Wednesday (and he nudged me Friday to make sure I joined in the final full-group improv of the day, which I was set to do anyway but he didn't know that) and terrific teaching style. I also mentioned how different the work was from what I do at home in that we don't use our hands to hold or grab in the Dance Alive work, whereas all this week long we were yanking and pushing and directing with our hands.
After the circle, everyone was cooperative as I offered to take shots of bruises. "Where do I start?" was Adria's question. She paid her bruise dues! Here's the set:
I am still, two weeks later, excited by what happened there and everyone who talks to me about it notices how elated I am. I hadn't seen Dolores in a few weeks, but she told me after seeing me in class this morning that she sensed a lifting of weight from me.
Matt and Emily ran a terrific workshop, informed by their real experience and experimental spirits. They are also much younger than I am and were considerate and genuine the entire time. They held the space for a transformative experience and they did it with power and grace to spare. Thank you, Matt! Thank you, Emily! Thank you, fellow movers in the workshop! And thank you to my moving teachers and friends at home. I would not have had this elevated week without you.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Pilobolus Day 4: Ease in the Extremes
Even though not much was said about the theme suggested yesterday, today did present extremes, at least for me--I was at last extremely comfortable with myself and had slept well, which meant that I was up for the work. I also heeded Sat Nam's advice, that perhaps I needed to exercise my skill at taking a break, which I did by sitting out during the pre-lunch small-group improv sessions. I did participate in the full-group improvs and of course the afternoon improv-to-choreography pieces. And I was extremely glad about the results.
Note that I'm not writing this or tomorrow's entry "live"--it is two weeks later, so my tenses might be scrambled somewhat.
The photo I took of Arianna above has a story, which will come later. That wall means something to all of us who were there that day and there is no photo documentation of what took place, so Arianna volunteered to provide a scale for this photo I took after the event. More soon. . .
Tonight was the night of the Pilobolus performance we went via bus to NY to see, and after the weight-sharing training from yesterday we were ready. Emily had warned us that there would be almost no time after the workshop, since we were leaving right away, but luckily those of us staying at the Homestead (John, Wen, Jenny, Roald, and I) would have time, since we were meeting the bus right around the corner from there. I remember that Emily had said that last year it rained the day of the bus ride, so everyone just dashed outside for their cheap shower. It happened again today, and at lunch I jogged to the cafe in the rain and it felt great.
So, yesterday's work had a lot of risk-taking and experimentation; today's was perhaps not consistently as limit-testing but there was a sort of settling that I felt: perhaps because we were somewhat spent and worn, we were more authentic in our movement (but I don't want to make it seem as though anyone was faking anything earlier) and I felt best about the work I did today. I was able to remember everything, our group had a solid narrative, and the presentation held together. Plus it felt great. Here's how it came about:
After lunch, I approached Debbie (we were the two "elders" in the workshop) and as I expected she was enthusiastic about doing something. She's enthusiastic about everything, and has actually done this workshop twice (thrice?) earlier, one time even with Jonathan Wolken, one of the Pilobolus co-founders. Right after that, Wen, my commuting counselor, asked to work with me. I told her that I had already asked Debbie, so we had a trio. The result is visible above in photos taken by Adria (thank you, Adria, for this gift of photos). I've done some contrast and color enhancing so that you can see things (the lighting was difficult for cameras, even with a flash).
Perhaps you can see that we created a wilderness scene: Debbie and Wen were a large Siamese-type creature, minding its own business on the forest floor. I wandered by, weary from my travels, and found a place to put up my feet and rest. They then, over the top of my calves, began spidering about (the audience could probably see this well, but not their faces--yet). At one point I woke, curious about these crawling objects on my leg. The objects (their hands, and at one point Debbie's foot!) shot spores at me (well, that was how I imagined it), knocking me out.
I woke up to the the creature controlling me remotely, spinning me about, forcing me to cross my ankles, then rise up (we laughed in our prep because Debbie kept forgetting to give the visual command for me to uncross my ankles, so I was standing with my legs twisted for a while; she waited in the performance too, but it worked well and I didn't tip over).
Once I was up, I realized that I had been endowed with some kind of power, which I issued to push them away from me, then to divide them. They really held on, though, and the struggle was showing in all our faces. After all, I was attempting to break them apart with sheer will, my hands only channeling energy. Finally they split, rolling to several yards away from me on opposite sides.
I stood, relieved and winded, only to see them approaching me again, sidling up to me, then using their spore-throwing hands to bring me into unity with them as a single creature.
When we were done, Matt said, "I don't know about the rest of you, but that kinda creeped me out." And it was creepy. We never broke our intention and it was seriously creepy, not humorously creepy. I was glad about how it came out and felt that our performance was better than our run-through. And I was over the hump of supersaturation that had made it hard for me to settle down and work.
I am so grateful to Debbie and Wen, who were terrific collaborators with whom I finally became fully involved in creating a piece that worked well.
There were some thrilling pieces done by all the groups today. Adria has posted 144 photos on her Facebook from Thursday so perhaps you can see them by clicking this link. Sadly, because she was doing most of the shooting, there are fewer shots of her, and I think it was today that she was working with John in a quartet and there was a moment when they were near the window and he was quietly and firmly supporting her as she leaned far back, and with the lighting as it was, the effect from the opposite end of the room where I was resembled a noir scene: the dark beauty langorous against a lamp post or wall, time held in place so the world can take in all her power in that stillness. I can't describe any better how that felt, but I wish I could.
Now, to the crazy thing during our morning improv: all 17 of us were in a mass by the window (the one I used the next day for my solo piece; photos forthcoming), and were pretty densely packed. At one point, Matt told us to move the mass. Fragmentation ensued; and, unknown to me until later, Brent shot up the stairs to the choir loft.
Somehow I ended up in an assembly with Debbie on my back or shoulders while I was on all fours, moving slowly to the Great Wall. I wasn't looking where I was going, but there was a change in cabin pressure (Debbie was off my back for a moment) and there was a small wooden white chair in front of me; Debbie had been handed the chair from the loft by Brent.
What happened next is not entirely clear in my memory. Debbie put her feet on the chair while I think she was sitting on my shoulders, I looked up, saw that people were scaling the wall, being lifted by others who had arrived in the loft, and realized that Debbie was going into ascension also. I braced myself and pushed her tail up with my hands, then she was hanging by her arm (the one connected to Brent's arm) as I ran out of butt. I pushed up her right foot and I think Arianna and maybe Caitlin pushed up her left foot. She rose!
Once she was out of our contact, those of us still on the ground stared at the scene: wax unmelting! Zombies in retreat! Pilobolean avatars!
Debbie told us later that, once she was on the four-inch ledge below the railing, Brent let go, indicating that she was on her own. She I think got a leg between the railing and pivoted up from there, but since she has a deeply ingrained fear of her feet leaving the ground, it was a breakthrough experience for her.
Later we learned that while witnessing The Rise, Matt leaned over to Emily and said, "We have their release forms, right?"
Matt and Emily assured us that that had never happened before. But I think there was some precedent--Matt had, on Wednesday, in a fit of restless energy, climbed to the balcony himself, as a rock climber/monkey would. But we took it to the group level on Thursday. I felt that I had been part of something unusual, compelling, and beautiful. And a little terrifying.
The Pilobolus performance was even more impressive since we had learned some of their approaches on Wednesday and were applying them today. We saw their program that included the new shadow piece (Dog*Id)--they are actually doing three different programs in their month-long run at the Joyce Theater, but I'm glad we were able to see Dog*Id, which stars Molly Gawler, who came up with the cute, compelling shadow dog that's been used in a lot of their recent shadow work.
I'm not going to do a play-by-play of each piece, but I will give some highlights. The Dog*Id piece has surreal moments, taking place in a dreamscape--and there are at times TWO projection screens. It's breathtaking. Oh, and it was created in collaboration with the head writer for SpongeBob Squarepants. No kidding. So, Sy, tell Kaila that dance is for her!
The only time I have ever before seen Pilobolus was in graduate school. My friend David, another guitarist at UCLA, suggested we go to the dance concerts, that it would be cool. I had no idea what he was talking about, but the student discount in 1979 was inviting (I think the tickets were $4) so we went to all the dance shows. The only group I remember 30 years later is Pilobolus. I remember extensible tubing, large enough for people to pass through. There was tremendous energy and humor in the show. Thank you, David, wherever you are. Because I remembered how much I enjoyed that concert, I recently added myself to the Pilobolus mailing list, which led to me finding out about this workshop. Whew!
At this performance we saw virtuoso movers performing gravity-defying movement, including a solo piece originally from the late '70s performed by Jun Kuribayashi. Jun was actually in most or all the rest of the dances that night (the shadow group is an entirely separate set of performers) and he is an electric performer.
One of the things I notice about Pilobolus is that their movement and poses aren't always symmetrical. We like to think that we are balanced beings, but the subtle differences in our mirroring are really valuable to magnify, and they frequently accomplish this feat in their work.
One moment I remember was in a piece in which the two women were descending by walking on the men's hands. At one point (I think I remember this correctly), one of the women was walking normally around the the men, then walking on their hands, then was gradually tipped, supported perhaps by her right shoulder and right hip so that she could continue walking in a circle, but eventually at a right angle to vertical. It was slowly and elegantly done: she was walking parallel with the ground, with no difference in her leg or arm movement, with her head at the center of the circle she was circumnavigating with her feet. That was exciting.
The best part was being able to sit next to Debbie on the way there, at the show, and on the way back. She warned me that she snores and, sure enough, she zonked out around 11:30 and was in a deep sleep. We made a right turn and her assertive left shoulder/bicep (was that Helga or Olga? she has named them both) slammed into my right shoulder. I'm glad I hadn't dozed off yet--that would have been a hell of a way to wake up.
It turns out that Debbie was born a few miles from where I was born. I come from West Long Branch, NJ; she is from Spring Lake and is in fact visiting her dad there right now as I type this. We talked about her daughter (also a dancer) and parents and family and graphics (she used to be in a marketing position and has training in that discipline). She teaches dance and used to be a competitive distance runner (5:30 miles!). But I think she was born with that amazing upper body. On Friday's post I'll include all the photos from my "bruise collection," but here's a taste now, since I'm talking about Debbie's:
The news is good: today was a rich day for me and I also thoroughly enjoyed everyone else's work, as I had stopped worrying so much: my issues had receded and I was moving ahead. I think it was Thursday when I realized that I wanted to come back next year.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Pilobolus Workshop, Day 3: Overcoming Coming Over
Sorry for the pun of the title, but I really did fly for the first time today, since fifth grade, that is. When I was a kid a couple of friends grabbed my arms and legs and threw me on the playground. After I got over the initial terror, I realized I really loved the sensation of flying. I don't remember the landing, but there was grass and dirt and it went okay. These friends (who were angry at me for a reason I can't remember) then weren't sure what to think when I begged them to throw me again, but this time further, preceded by more swings back and forth. It was great for me--I had always loved somersaulting and gymnastic behaviors as a kid, but this was more than I could do myself. So it was sad that they got in trouble--the on-duty yard monitor saw that second throw and meted out some sort of punishment. I don't remember if I attempted to explain--I was still flying in my head.
Here's a link to the 70+ photos Adria took today.
So today we did weight-sharing/bearing the Pilobolus way (so much for this being a class not about technique). I am so grateful to the person I first partnered with, Roald, the Dutch gymnast. He is so clear in his movement and so patient with his language and explanations. I cannot imagine him being anything else but an instructor of gymnastics. After the demo given by Matt & Emily, Roald did his absolute best with me while modeling perfect instructional technique: to get me to not forget to breathe (stopping the breath tightens everything up), he didn't tell me to breathe--he said, "I always have to remember when I'm doing this sort of thing to breathe." That's the way to do it. Oh, and he is not 6'5" as I was thinking both of the male acrobats are: he is a little taller than I am, and very muscular but not at all stocky. The thing is, when I was on his back, it was such a safe platform to be: I could rest, I could put my arms and legs out. It can look like martial arts throws, but we never throw each other; the weight subtly (well, ideally) is shared in sequence, in beautiful, elegant sequence by the partners. He is much heavier than I (a continuous human muscle) and we stumbled through some attempts, but finally he suggested that when he works, he prefers to use no words. (Again, first-person teaching technique.) It was an invitation to work his way without being a command. We made progress still, even though I was unsteady. My body is not learning as quickly as I would like, but I do think that my thinking is getting in the way. I feel like telling my mind, "Knock this shit off, the body and I have work to do." More on this later.
The effect of the weight sharing is almost always beautiful, subtle, slow motion (air + ground in constant sequence) and hypnotic. Matt and Emily demonstrated that the sharing can begin from just about any position, and one can improv right into it. Of course, it takes practice, but more than practice is what I am now working on, even as I type this: it takes awareness, shutting down thoughts and doing body-listening. I'm going to practice that tonight: tuning in and sensing movement.
When I learned the "fox-walk" from Jim and Mary Lowery of Earth Skills, that may be the first formal explanation I've had of weight-sharing, but that was weight-sharing with the ground as partner: when tracking an animal, so as to minimally disturb the environment (physically and auditorially), one may walk like this: the front foot comes down, but the weight is on the back foot. The weight shifts to the forward foot; only when all the weight is on the forward foot does the back foot come up. It looks odd to an outsider, but it feels divine. And it slows one down. I remember learning that very quickly and still do it sometimes, even though I don't do tracking anymore. I love that walk, though.
Anyway, we next did a very cool exercise with trios: the center person is suspended/held by the other two from the underarms while the center person's hands press into the free hands of the others. The outers walk forward and the center person allows feet to drag, then eventually pivots to place the feet forward of the others, and perhaps one foot at a time gently comes into contact with the ground. Of course, the others are moving still, so time for another cycle: let the lower body go as the others move forward, then pivot forward, etc. It is a graceful, stunning move that worked so well with the two groups I was in, all women much younger than I (and most much lighter). This isn't so much a strength or agility exercise as one of understanding how little is required. Not much happens, but there's beauty in that.
I took care of myself today and decided during the last group improvs after lunch to just not step in at all. I needed a break. Thank you, Sat Nam, for reminding me that it is okay, that getting caught up in the swirl of these wonderful movers doesn't mean that I have to do more than I can.
The amazing Cynthia (forgive my cell phone camera's graininess):
After break we chose partners. I asked Cynthia, who is so lovely and thoughtful and graceful, and she said yes and we were off. As always, we improv-ed for a while. We came up with some very interesting things that pleased us both. Sadly, we couldn't figure out how we got to some of them, and she was anxious to include some of the weight-sharing from earlier in the day, so there I was again clumsily trying to get through it. But when we had time to check in with one other group (a trio including Roald, who had helped me so much earlier), we did the weight-sharing maneuver pretty well and I smiled when Roald said, "You've got it!" That made my day, my week. Cynthia and I continued work after that, but I was finding it difficult to keep everything straight--I was winded and somewhat weak from the exertion of the day, but I think I just need more practice retaining movement memory. Roald's suggestion was to just make our uncertainty be part of the performance later: to include our talking, checking in, false starts, etc.
The remaining photos for today's entry are courtesy of Adria, one of the workshop participants who knew how to use a terrific camera. Thank you, Adria! We all love you for taking so many tasty shots.
I'll be the first to admit that I still wasn't clear about how we were actually going to start, so there was far more authenticity to our bewilderment than the audience had any right to expect. I knew that Cynthia was surprised by what happened, but she is such a pro and so gracious that what we did worked. Wen later told me that she felt I had a breakthrough today--I had done a lot of facial expressions (not visible to Cynthia as she was sometimes facing in my same direction) and was presenting joy for the first time all week. If Roald's comment made my week, Wen's made my month. I had a great time and felt that the performance was effective.
Emily said she wasn't sure at first if we were really having problems or if it was just part of the piece. There's a good reason for that :) She also said that what we did hadn't been done before this week, that it was completely different. Keep in mind we had some pretty cool positions, including her leaning forward of me while I leaned back, holding hands, then she lowered me (she and I were both facing forward), then she sitting on my knees while we both faced forward, then she slid slowly into my lap, her legs folded over/beside mine. I then slid my legs down a bit and reached up with my hands, Buddah-style, to pat her cheeks gently, give her a yawn, brush over her eyebrows, and finally be brushed away. Then I yelled "Whoa!" and we both went down, she to stage right and I to the left. The way we got to that place was so very cool: it came from the weight-sharing ambulation we did; she would continue the rotation and spin to face forward, so her back was to my front (although it took us far from center stage, so Cynthia led us back there before beginning the next weight-sharing). Then we locked hands and leaned away from each other. It wasn't what we had seen in demo, but it was still weight-sharing and we were able to apply what we learned in a creative way. I suspect that I will remember that work we did my whole life.
It was nice to hear people laugh when things were funny, including my facial expressions (and Cynthia has amazing committment in her staring beyond the walls, as though she sees through them on a regular basis).
I need to say that the other groups prepared thrilling pieces--every day seems to create a longer hour of preparation, that we somehow get more focused and efficient during that single hour.
Tomorrow we go to NY to see the group right after the workshop is over. They had a good review in the NY Times that should be available for a few days, I think.
And tomorrow we're being told that we're going to be dealing with EXTREMES. I am going to bed early tonight.
On the way back to the inn where Wen and I are staying, she said that she feels that I've been too self-critical, that it even shows in my posture (some of those of you in L.A. know what I've gone through with my posture and know how sunken I used to get before I did the physical therapy). What valuable feedback! I am so grateful she felt comfortable sharing that. I've been feeling so underpowered that it's on display as defeat. But I'm not defeated, just tired, and I'm going to sleep that tiredness off and walk in upright tomorrow ready to work/play play/work.
When I get back to L.A. the first thing I'm going to do is get one of the dancers in the Saturday morning class and do some weight-sharing walking at the Highways space. I am discovering new things and am finding more trust in myself and want to share that with my friends. I wish you could all be here, taking risks and being airborne with me.
I won't be able to blog Thursday or Friday, but I'll get back to it Saturday. Until then. . .
Here's a link to the 70+ photos Adria took today.
So today we did weight-sharing/bearing the Pilobolus way (so much for this being a class not about technique). I am so grateful to the person I first partnered with, Roald, the Dutch gymnast. He is so clear in his movement and so patient with his language and explanations. I cannot imagine him being anything else but an instructor of gymnastics. After the demo given by Matt & Emily, Roald did his absolute best with me while modeling perfect instructional technique: to get me to not forget to breathe (stopping the breath tightens everything up), he didn't tell me to breathe--he said, "I always have to remember when I'm doing this sort of thing to breathe." That's the way to do it. Oh, and he is not 6'5" as I was thinking both of the male acrobats are: he is a little taller than I am, and very muscular but not at all stocky. The thing is, when I was on his back, it was such a safe platform to be: I could rest, I could put my arms and legs out. It can look like martial arts throws, but we never throw each other; the weight subtly (well, ideally) is shared in sequence, in beautiful, elegant sequence by the partners. He is much heavier than I (a continuous human muscle) and we stumbled through some attempts, but finally he suggested that when he works, he prefers to use no words. (Again, first-person teaching technique.) It was an invitation to work his way without being a command. We made progress still, even though I was unsteady. My body is not learning as quickly as I would like, but I do think that my thinking is getting in the way. I feel like telling my mind, "Knock this shit off, the body and I have work to do." More on this later.
The effect of the weight sharing is almost always beautiful, subtle, slow motion (air + ground in constant sequence) and hypnotic. Matt and Emily demonstrated that the sharing can begin from just about any position, and one can improv right into it. Of course, it takes practice, but more than practice is what I am now working on, even as I type this: it takes awareness, shutting down thoughts and doing body-listening. I'm going to practice that tonight: tuning in and sensing movement.
When I learned the "fox-walk" from Jim and Mary Lowery of Earth Skills, that may be the first formal explanation I've had of weight-sharing, but that was weight-sharing with the ground as partner: when tracking an animal, so as to minimally disturb the environment (physically and auditorially), one may walk like this: the front foot comes down, but the weight is on the back foot. The weight shifts to the forward foot; only when all the weight is on the forward foot does the back foot come up. It looks odd to an outsider, but it feels divine. And it slows one down. I remember learning that very quickly and still do it sometimes, even though I don't do tracking anymore. I love that walk, though.
Anyway, we next did a very cool exercise with trios: the center person is suspended/held by the other two from the underarms while the center person's hands press into the free hands of the others. The outers walk forward and the center person allows feet to drag, then eventually pivots to place the feet forward of the others, and perhaps one foot at a time gently comes into contact with the ground. Of course, the others are moving still, so time for another cycle: let the lower body go as the others move forward, then pivot forward, etc. It is a graceful, stunning move that worked so well with the two groups I was in, all women much younger than I (and most much lighter). This isn't so much a strength or agility exercise as one of understanding how little is required. Not much happens, but there's beauty in that.
I took care of myself today and decided during the last group improvs after lunch to just not step in at all. I needed a break. Thank you, Sat Nam, for reminding me that it is okay, that getting caught up in the swirl of these wonderful movers doesn't mean that I have to do more than I can.
The amazing Cynthia (forgive my cell phone camera's graininess):
After break we chose partners. I asked Cynthia, who is so lovely and thoughtful and graceful, and she said yes and we were off. As always, we improv-ed for a while. We came up with some very interesting things that pleased us both. Sadly, we couldn't figure out how we got to some of them, and she was anxious to include some of the weight-sharing from earlier in the day, so there I was again clumsily trying to get through it. But when we had time to check in with one other group (a trio including Roald, who had helped me so much earlier), we did the weight-sharing maneuver pretty well and I smiled when Roald said, "You've got it!" That made my day, my week. Cynthia and I continued work after that, but I was finding it difficult to keep everything straight--I was winded and somewhat weak from the exertion of the day, but I think I just need more practice retaining movement memory. Roald's suggestion was to just make our uncertainty be part of the performance later: to include our talking, checking in, false starts, etc.
The remaining photos for today's entry are courtesy of Adria, one of the workshop participants who knew how to use a terrific camera. Thank you, Adria! We all love you for taking so many tasty shots.
I'll be the first to admit that I still wasn't clear about how we were actually going to start, so there was far more authenticity to our bewilderment than the audience had any right to expect. I knew that Cynthia was surprised by what happened, but she is such a pro and so gracious that what we did worked. Wen later told me that she felt I had a breakthrough today--I had done a lot of facial expressions (not visible to Cynthia as she was sometimes facing in my same direction) and was presenting joy for the first time all week. If Roald's comment made my week, Wen's made my month. I had a great time and felt that the performance was effective.
Emily said she wasn't sure at first if we were really having problems or if it was just part of the piece. There's a good reason for that :) She also said that what we did hadn't been done before this week, that it was completely different. Keep in mind we had some pretty cool positions, including her leaning forward of me while I leaned back, holding hands, then she lowered me (she and I were both facing forward), then she sitting on my knees while we both faced forward, then she slid slowly into my lap, her legs folded over/beside mine. I then slid my legs down a bit and reached up with my hands, Buddah-style, to pat her cheeks gently, give her a yawn, brush over her eyebrows, and finally be brushed away. Then I yelled "Whoa!" and we both went down, she to stage right and I to the left. The way we got to that place was so very cool: it came from the weight-sharing ambulation we did; she would continue the rotation and spin to face forward, so her back was to my front (although it took us far from center stage, so Cynthia led us back there before beginning the next weight-sharing). Then we locked hands and leaned away from each other. It wasn't what we had seen in demo, but it was still weight-sharing and we were able to apply what we learned in a creative way. I suspect that I will remember that work we did my whole life.
It was nice to hear people laugh when things were funny, including my facial expressions (and Cynthia has amazing committment in her staring beyond the walls, as though she sees through them on a regular basis).
I need to say that the other groups prepared thrilling pieces--every day seems to create a longer hour of preparation, that we somehow get more focused and efficient during that single hour.
Tomorrow we go to NY to see the group right after the workshop is over. They had a good review in the NY Times that should be available for a few days, I think.
And tomorrow we're being told that we're going to be dealing with EXTREMES. I am going to bed early tonight.
On the way back to the inn where Wen and I are staying, she said that she feels that I've been too self-critical, that it even shows in my posture (some of those of you in L.A. know what I've gone through with my posture and know how sunken I used to get before I did the physical therapy). What valuable feedback! I am so grateful she felt comfortable sharing that. I've been feeling so underpowered that it's on display as defeat. But I'm not defeated, just tired, and I'm going to sleep that tiredness off and walk in upright tomorrow ready to work/play play/work.
When I get back to L.A. the first thing I'm going to do is get one of the dancers in the Saturday morning class and do some weight-sharing walking at the Highways space. I am discovering new things and am finding more trust in myself and want to share that with my friends. I wish you could all be here, taking risks and being airborne with me.
I won't be able to blog Thursday or Friday, but I'll get back to it Saturday. Until then. . .
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Pilobolus Workshop, Day 2: Boundless Boundaries
Another exhilirating and valuable day in the workshop. I'm going to resist trying to explain everything that happened but want to share the highlights and exercises we did.
We warmed up as a group (keep in mind that we are on our own for stretching beforehand--things start moving pretty rapidly once the workshop starts) by lining up on one end of the club house (an old barn-like structure with a very high ceiling and wood floor) and allowing one person to break out towards the other end in a movement that we would be inspired by--perhaps to copy, perhaps to transform. By the time we got to the other side, we were to turn around and then pick a different leader from whoever most recently arrived (at least I think that's what we were doing).
The variety of movement present in each of these dancers is a marvel.
Another exercise that I really liked was a paired activity in which we were to start just by staring into each other's eyes, to not be in a rush, and to let whatever came from that staring just happen. I was glad to be partnered with Debbie, an inspiring and knowing mover who teaches dance to children and has taken this same workshop twice before. This was an entirely satisfying meditation on the other person. She took it well when I told her later that she "gave good eye." It's true.
Every day after lunch we choose our group members (Emily, the workshop co-leader, quotes Pilobolus founder Jonathan to "choose wisely") to improvise with, then choreograph a piece based on discoveries made during the improv. That improv and choreo part is given one hour. The hour seemed considerably shorter yesterday than today. The piece is presented to the whole workshop. We ended at 4:30 today (yesterday ended a bit early). So, here's my story: after two days of very careful observation of these lovely movers, I rate myself (I know, not a good idea, but unavoidable) at the bottom of the pile, as it were: I am the least-able mover of the bunch. Instead of ending up with the same group of people I ended up with yesterday (I was very unassertive that first day) I asked Angela, a terrific young dancer and a very sweet kid (maybe 22-24?) if she wanted to work with me. The length of her reply was honest, if not direct: "Uhhhhhh . . . y e a h . . . . Okay." We had been encouraged to just have pairs today, but the option for a trio was left open. Brent (one of the amazing acrobats) was nearby, and we added him to our group.
I asked them if they wanted to go up first, but they declined. We ended up going up last. But what very cool things we saw in the meantime! I was thrilled that the three remaining acrobats chose to tone down their predilictions for circus/acrobat moves and were in fact not in groups together--they brought their amazing kinesthetic awareness to the groups they inhabited and everyone won. And the trained dancer Wen working with Roald the acrobat was ravishing. I felt that they appreciated each other's inner and outer strengths and they composed a piece that had tremendous depth that was very convincing and varied. It was its own world and I was glad to be able to witness it.
John did a duet with Cynthia, a former dancer who is also captivating to watch. He got his chance to throw her around and do weight-bearing/sharing with her. She is strong, graceful, and in her character at all times. It was an odd and interesting pairing that reflected a very efficient use of the hour, to say the least.
There were so many dazzling things to witness. So far there is no video tape, but Adria brought a camera with a very nice lens and has some still shots of everyone. Here are her photos from Day 2.
In doing the planning for our group, after our improv start, my biggest concern was getting away from the boy-takes-girl, other-boy-wants-girl-back confrontational struggle that had already seemed to happen several times since we started Monday morning. I am quite tired of the face-offs with other men. Now, there aren't that many men, but the other three are all VERY strong, and Brent and Roald are also well over 6 feet. What John doesn't have in height he makes up in bicep circumference. All these men are able to quite deftly sling women (or men) about with the ease that I might present while removing lint from the dryer.
I was glad that the others were sensitive to my request and we ended up with a narrative that might have been in a club or some such: Angela standing between us at some distance, choosing the guy who was grooving a little to the beat (Brent), while I attempted imitating whatever he was doing to be able to get her back to me. She then saw my motivated attempt, came to me, and Brent then mimicked what we were doing. We did this for another round, during which Angela became tired of being manipulated and decided to eject from me and begin spinning the guys around; i.e., being the one in control, with one guy at a time. Each of us would eventually slow down after her departure, and she would return to us to spin us again. Eventually we both collapsed dizzy and partnerless; she left the scene, realizing she was better off without this whole guy thing.
The gift Angela gave me during this was actually something I shared during the feedback portion: while rehearsing our moves, she told me that she felt she had to do all the initiating of movement, that I was passive in my partnering with her, that that was her impression of having had some contact with me during all of our encounters, however brief, during both days. This was gold for me--I rarely initiate anything in the dance work I do at home--whatever happens is what I respond to; I don't happen first. I am so grateful to her for telling me the obvious thing that I had not internalized; after all, that is just how I've been dancing all along.
When I made this comment, Debbie (who was in the audience) countered me, indicating that she felt during our eye-dance earlier that I was in fact the initiator, that there was no doubt with her that I had that role, which is in fact HER usual role. That was also gold. And it also sounded true to my experience of that work. Of course, that was today, and today is a breakthrough day in some ways; even though Angela and I spoke after Debbie and I danced, I think my memory is accurate of the work I've done since January 2008 when I started moving: I rarely make the first decision, the first move to which another must respond.
Of course, I am a liability in some other ways: when we were to dance simply, perhaps with hands in the air, doing silly twirly things, I don't have that in my body memory since I've never done it--not even playing around. I missed all that when I was younger and never was interested in it. But to be able to parody something, one must know it. More knowledge gained (about knowledge not gained).
The responses were interesting. Emily felt it was obvious that I was somehow remotely controlling Brent, which was in fact the converse of the truth: I was copying him, clumsily (clumsily on purpose), to claim Angela's attention. When we shared our narrative, including the part that we were trying to avoid the typical guy-takes-girl scenario, which isn't much different from hostage situation as we had seen it play out in earlier work, Matt said that there's a reason that these typical things are done: they work.
I told Angela that I thought of all the run-throughs we did, that our actual performance was the best one. I am not sure what she and Brent actually thought of it but would like to ask them. I did feel that both of them were being polite to the kindly older guy who is clearly outclassed here (and perhaps clearly out of his mind as well), and almost feel that I should have taken them by the shoulders and said, "Let me have it! Even if it hurts my feelings, then at least we can go into this work with some more directness!" And even though on one level I will be grateful for the honesty, I know that the very young part of my childhood, my child-ness, that wasn't chosen for kickball or whatever when I was five will feel disappointment. But maybe this isn't so obvious. I mean, I want them to include me, to like my movement, to recognize my earnestness, etc. But they (and this could be a projection, so I hope they'll forgive me) didn't seem to feel the same way towards me, that there would be nothing to gain by it.
I think that Matt and Emily don't strongly enough encourage feedback from the group. I've learned in my own teaching that the best stuff, the very best feedback, comes only from waiting. Silence can seem long and be very uncomfortable, but look: it takes some of us a while to assemble a coherent comment, and if it's something we've just seen, we want to take it in. Immediate all-or-nothing feedback can't be the only valuable feedback. But my sense is that both Matt and Emily want to keep us on schedule and get on with the show, so they offer their very insightful feedback (and sometimes demonstrations) and that seems to squelch most other contributions; after all, once the teachers have spoken, what else is there to say? So I'm not sure if there's a solution--we still had a respectful feedback process and covered tremendous ground. At the same time, I feel that I am so spoiled by Jack Grapes's writing classes, which have a somewhat more flexible schedule--the feedback from the witnesses is sometimes the best part of the class, and comments are waited for, encouraged, and cajoled, and inner feedback to the comments can develop. Of course, that's a word class, and this is a movement class; perhaps our feedback should be in the form of movement, with few or no words. Just a crazy thought that made me smile, as so much did today.
We warmed up as a group (keep in mind that we are on our own for stretching beforehand--things start moving pretty rapidly once the workshop starts) by lining up on one end of the club house (an old barn-like structure with a very high ceiling and wood floor) and allowing one person to break out towards the other end in a movement that we would be inspired by--perhaps to copy, perhaps to transform. By the time we got to the other side, we were to turn around and then pick a different leader from whoever most recently arrived (at least I think that's what we were doing).
The variety of movement present in each of these dancers is a marvel.
Another exercise that I really liked was a paired activity in which we were to start just by staring into each other's eyes, to not be in a rush, and to let whatever came from that staring just happen. I was glad to be partnered with Debbie, an inspiring and knowing mover who teaches dance to children and has taken this same workshop twice before. This was an entirely satisfying meditation on the other person. She took it well when I told her later that she "gave good eye." It's true.
Every day after lunch we choose our group members (Emily, the workshop co-leader, quotes Pilobolus founder Jonathan to "choose wisely") to improvise with, then choreograph a piece based on discoveries made during the improv. That improv and choreo part is given one hour. The hour seemed considerably shorter yesterday than today. The piece is presented to the whole workshop. We ended at 4:30 today (yesterday ended a bit early). So, here's my story: after two days of very careful observation of these lovely movers, I rate myself (I know, not a good idea, but unavoidable) at the bottom of the pile, as it were: I am the least-able mover of the bunch. Instead of ending up with the same group of people I ended up with yesterday (I was very unassertive that first day) I asked Angela, a terrific young dancer and a very sweet kid (maybe 22-24?) if she wanted to work with me. The length of her reply was honest, if not direct: "Uhhhhhh . . . y e a h . . . . Okay." We had been encouraged to just have pairs today, but the option for a trio was left open. Brent (one of the amazing acrobats) was nearby, and we added him to our group.
I asked them if they wanted to go up first, but they declined. We ended up going up last. But what very cool things we saw in the meantime! I was thrilled that the three remaining acrobats chose to tone down their predilictions for circus/acrobat moves and were in fact not in groups together--they brought their amazing kinesthetic awareness to the groups they inhabited and everyone won. And the trained dancer Wen working with Roald the acrobat was ravishing. I felt that they appreciated each other's inner and outer strengths and they composed a piece that had tremendous depth that was very convincing and varied. It was its own world and I was glad to be able to witness it.
John did a duet with Cynthia, a former dancer who is also captivating to watch. He got his chance to throw her around and do weight-bearing/sharing with her. She is strong, graceful, and in her character at all times. It was an odd and interesting pairing that reflected a very efficient use of the hour, to say the least.
There were so many dazzling things to witness. So far there is no video tape, but Adria brought a camera with a very nice lens and has some still shots of everyone. Here are her photos from Day 2.
In doing the planning for our group, after our improv start, my biggest concern was getting away from the boy-takes-girl, other-boy-wants-girl-back confrontational struggle that had already seemed to happen several times since we started Monday morning. I am quite tired of the face-offs with other men. Now, there aren't that many men, but the other three are all VERY strong, and Brent and Roald are also well over 6 feet. What John doesn't have in height he makes up in bicep circumference. All these men are able to quite deftly sling women (or men) about with the ease that I might present while removing lint from the dryer.
I was glad that the others were sensitive to my request and we ended up with a narrative that might have been in a club or some such: Angela standing between us at some distance, choosing the guy who was grooving a little to the beat (Brent), while I attempted imitating whatever he was doing to be able to get her back to me. She then saw my motivated attempt, came to me, and Brent then mimicked what we were doing. We did this for another round, during which Angela became tired of being manipulated and decided to eject from me and begin spinning the guys around; i.e., being the one in control, with one guy at a time. Each of us would eventually slow down after her departure, and she would return to us to spin us again. Eventually we both collapsed dizzy and partnerless; she left the scene, realizing she was better off without this whole guy thing.
The gift Angela gave me during this was actually something I shared during the feedback portion: while rehearsing our moves, she told me that she felt she had to do all the initiating of movement, that I was passive in my partnering with her, that that was her impression of having had some contact with me during all of our encounters, however brief, during both days. This was gold for me--I rarely initiate anything in the dance work I do at home--whatever happens is what I respond to; I don't happen first. I am so grateful to her for telling me the obvious thing that I had not internalized; after all, that is just how I've been dancing all along.
When I made this comment, Debbie (who was in the audience) countered me, indicating that she felt during our eye-dance earlier that I was in fact the initiator, that there was no doubt with her that I had that role, which is in fact HER usual role. That was also gold. And it also sounded true to my experience of that work. Of course, that was today, and today is a breakthrough day in some ways; even though Angela and I spoke after Debbie and I danced, I think my memory is accurate of the work I've done since January 2008 when I started moving: I rarely make the first decision, the first move to which another must respond.
Of course, I am a liability in some other ways: when we were to dance simply, perhaps with hands in the air, doing silly twirly things, I don't have that in my body memory since I've never done it--not even playing around. I missed all that when I was younger and never was interested in it. But to be able to parody something, one must know it. More knowledge gained (about knowledge not gained).
The responses were interesting. Emily felt it was obvious that I was somehow remotely controlling Brent, which was in fact the converse of the truth: I was copying him, clumsily (clumsily on purpose), to claim Angela's attention. When we shared our narrative, including the part that we were trying to avoid the typical guy-takes-girl scenario, which isn't much different from hostage situation as we had seen it play out in earlier work, Matt said that there's a reason that these typical things are done: they work.
I told Angela that I thought of all the run-throughs we did, that our actual performance was the best one. I am not sure what she and Brent actually thought of it but would like to ask them. I did feel that both of them were being polite to the kindly older guy who is clearly outclassed here (and perhaps clearly out of his mind as well), and almost feel that I should have taken them by the shoulders and said, "Let me have it! Even if it hurts my feelings, then at least we can go into this work with some more directness!" And even though on one level I will be grateful for the honesty, I know that the very young part of my childhood, my child-ness, that wasn't chosen for kickball or whatever when I was five will feel disappointment. But maybe this isn't so obvious. I mean, I want them to include me, to like my movement, to recognize my earnestness, etc. But they (and this could be a projection, so I hope they'll forgive me) didn't seem to feel the same way towards me, that there would be nothing to gain by it.
I think that Matt and Emily don't strongly enough encourage feedback from the group. I've learned in my own teaching that the best stuff, the very best feedback, comes only from waiting. Silence can seem long and be very uncomfortable, but look: it takes some of us a while to assemble a coherent comment, and if it's something we've just seen, we want to take it in. Immediate all-or-nothing feedback can't be the only valuable feedback. But my sense is that both Matt and Emily want to keep us on schedule and get on with the show, so they offer their very insightful feedback (and sometimes demonstrations) and that seems to squelch most other contributions; after all, once the teachers have spoken, what else is there to say? So I'm not sure if there's a solution--we still had a respectful feedback process and covered tremendous ground. At the same time, I feel that I am so spoiled by Jack Grapes's writing classes, which have a somewhat more flexible schedule--the feedback from the witnesses is sometimes the best part of the class, and comments are waited for, encouraged, and cajoled, and inner feedback to the comments can develop. Of course, that's a word class, and this is a movement class; perhaps our feedback should be in the form of movement, with few or no words. Just a crazy thought that made me smile, as so much did today.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Pilobolus Workshop, Day 1: Should have brought the Arnica
I made a promise to myself to blog every day about this transformative experience for which I signed up a few weeks ago: a five-day workshop with two members of Pilobolus. http://www.pilobolus.org
There are almost 20 people, several trained formal dancers, age ranging from 20s to maybe mid-late 50s (everyone looks to be in pretty good to amazing shape), a few professional acrobatic performers, some returning to dance after a hiatus (Cynthia is returning after having had some children, for example). The group has tremendous positive energy and my sense (although it's just mine, and you are welcome to yours) that we share a similar excitement about this workshop, this gift we're giving ourselves that we can take back to our villages and communities.
I'm not sure how much I'm going to get down tonight; gratefully I took that nap (well, it took me) after getting back here to the inn so I have some juice left for typing. I thought I'd be typing about the work we did, but it's the people who are compelling for me this evening. Forgive me if I dwell too much on the mundane; this is my journal for the week and is worth more to me than it needs to be worth to you, but if it is of value, I am grateful to know it.
I know everyone by name now, having gone over a few times the Google group of the participants Kris prepared and finding a few on the web (check out Jenny's web site, for instance). I am so glad I arranged to share my car rental with both Stella (whom I met at JFK; we drove into CT the longest way possible, apparently; at one point we wondered if it would have taken less time to go around the world in the other direction) and Wen (once I got here), who is staying at the same inn I am.
Stella flew in from Greece on Friday and is couch surfing, which I had never heard of before but am considering for myself the next time I decide to give myself some travel. She and I shared a great deal during the drive and she's an amazing person, has several jobs, and does contact improvisation at home. She studied classical guitar for three years with Liza (of Evangelos & Liza fame), knows a few languages, has a great sense of humor, and is a terrific person to spend four hours in the car with. It was great to be able to talk with her about classical guitar (my instrument and my living for so many years when I was younger), the Greek Nobel-prize winning poet Odysseus Elytis (sorry about the spelling), whose work I have in two different translations at home (can't get enough), her couch surfing experiences (as a host and traveler), and lots more. We'll be heading back to NY on Friday to return the rental car. She was a lovely mover today, and ended up aloft more than once.
Wen is a professional dancer living in Manhattan--she spent time after college at the Ailey school and just shared with me that her first days there left her pretty sore also, which made me feel a little better. I have done five-hour dance days, but not this strenuous--the "non-performance" workshop I'm in every month doesn't choreograph, after all, so there's no attempt to recreate anything. That repetition is gruelling, and not just physically. Anyway, Wen is really fun to watch move and has graceful cheetah strength. Oh, and she had more good advice this evening: STRETCHING will help with the soreness. It's easy to forget that. I did take a walk after my nap, and that also helped.
Okay, I need to document the work. I admit feeling really challenged by some of what we did. It's not just hard to follow someone else's movement, which we started with in foursomes; some of the movements that came up are themselves very difficult for me physically: I have tight hamstrings and not much upper body strength. At one point I was in a group with Jenny leading, and she was moving quickly on all fours then periodically flying into a brief handstand, not fully 90 degrees to the floor, but definitely in a straight line, as though pulled from a knowing rope above. I didn't dare attempt that; I kept my legs curled in when I jumped, then of course landed sooner than she did. Of course, it's possible that other individuals struggled with copying their leaders' movements--I couldn't see all at once. And we all got to lead, sometimes in rapid succession, which is how we started (I think that's the first exercise we did): all four facing the same direction, diamond formation, the front of the diamond creating the movement to be modeled, then passing the responsibility to either of the diamond side people), but I sometimes found myself so engaged with replicating a movement that I didn't have anything original occur to me when it was my chance. More than once I missed the cue (somehow I at first had the idea that we were to send the cue always clockwise, and so got fouled up when they went the other way).
One realization that came up for me was that I have a relatively limited vocabulary of movement. Those of you who dance with me every Saturday or Wednesday can chime in about this as you see fit. I'm just saying what I felt today.
Shoulders are type-tightening; time for a stretch break.
Okay: more that has come up for me. . .
When I first started Dance Alive in January 2008, one of the aspects that most appealed to me was that there were absolutely no steps or movements to remember. The teacher (mine have been Fred, Sat Nam, and sometimes Marianne herself, who came up with Dance Alive) guides, and issues constant reminders of things to consider. Those constant, repeated reminders really help: sometimes I'm engaged enough with a particular movement that my auditory channel is either blocked or filtered out, and I never have to worry about missing a word of guidance since I KNOW it's going to come back. And also that it's okay if it doesn't, I can skip it. I can't make any mistakes because there is no such thing, like a language that has no word for failure. I reasoned that the REASON I enjoy this so much is that it's so different from what my life was as a classical musician. Memorizing music (which I always enjoyed, keep in mind) and performing it meant that I was in a perpetual containing state; if I didn't keep the music in mind all the time I felt nervous, but knowing a performance was coming up was also stressful. Still, I memorized a lot of music, including some very challenging 20th-century music, and it was good. I just don't seek that form of expression now and am savoring the approach of Dance Alive.
So, Pilobolus works like this: group improvisation (group size being variable; we worked mostly in foursomes today) leads to choreography. In other words, we find something to use and build a piece around it. Elements of improv will still be present (we had only an hour today, start to finish, to create a piece, so there's no way we could have scripted every moment even if we wanted to), but the piece will be reproducible, which Dance Alive obviously doesn't allow for in its pure state. And Emily (one of the workshop leaders; her husband Matt is the other) shared that Pilobolus founder Jonathan (hopefully she'll correct me if I misquote her quoting him) says that partner work is "not Pilobolus." At the same time, they do a considerable amount of weight-bearing and sharing, although their techniques are not a focus of this workshop. We are learning a process, under supervision, of creating group-choregraphed movement out of group improvisation. And the emphasis is not on partner work, which I love so much in the ongoing dance work I do.
This means that I was out of my comfort zone for that afternoon work today (creating, then performing our piece for the participants). I find it difficult to remember sequences of movement, and my inattentiveness at once point led to a mild injury. More on this later. . .
Five groups performed in the afternoon, and all were interesting. Look, I love watching people move (although witnessing traditional ballet has left me with sympathetic pain and I no longer seek it), and these workshop movers were all on board. Cooperation itself is riveting, I think, and was evident in all the work that was presented. One group had three women: Cynthia, Wen, and Arianna. Cynthia arrived from off-stage and began tracing a square in the space between the other two, who at first had been tentative, then accepting of what she offered. Only later we heard of their idea, that the square was being extruded into a 3D box that could then be manipulated (or occupied perhaps?), but the story that unfolded was interesting and was told through weight sharing (on more than one occasion they were all piled up, Cynthia then sliding down, her face indicating that she was full of more information to share with them) and very specific and graceful movement.
Another group featured the acrobats: Jenny, Roald, Brent, Liz. It was a comedy, one member was being taught by the others what to do; there was a lot of play here and some freeing movement, as well as some flying and facial gymnastics. As strong and capable as all the participants are, this ensemble was perhaps more overt in creating a story that showed their athleticism off well. And they were having fun, as we were.
Another, larger, group (were there six?) were doing very animated robotic movements with their arms (locked elbows) to frenetic music (we didn't rehearse with music; Emily was doing her improv DJ role). I don't remember the "story" but I remember the juxtaposition of mechanical movement and the hysteria that comes from people acting robotically.
I should now describe our group's work. John (who is also staying at the inn where Wen and I are) is, like me, a high school teacher, but at the International School in Manilla (he is from Toronto and in fact drove the nine hours from there to get here), Caitlin (who is creating her own degree program at her school in Florida and whom I had been in contact with about the possibility of sharing the car), Stella, and I started with some improv that led to the nucleus of a story having to do with taking individuals from pairs. It evolved into this: sitting with our backs to each other, gently shifting weight left-to-right with arms outstretched, then Stella and I made "accidental" contact, which then led to us back-to-back, then pushing up to standing. We improvised some contact while the others watched, then very quickly John interceded and stole Stella from me; she and I maintained eye contact until she turned away, in John's grasp. John took Stella over his shoulder (of course Stella ends up airborne in this piece too :) and moved to a position where he and she were playing hand games, paddy-cake-like. Caitlin and I attempted to dissuade them from this activity by pulling hands, moving shoulders, etc, but of course without success. Then I locked right arms with John and pulled him away. This is where the mood shifted into one of pure confrontation instead of hostage-taking.
After pulling John from Stella, we had a face off, lots of slamming of feet and sideways movement (John has some very plastic expressive facial expressions) and (which he let me know just before we went on stage) then dove through my legs, then coming to a stand behind me. We interlocked right elbows again. He and I began running forward (but facing in opposite directions with locked arms, so we were running in place, the axis of rotation staying put). The centrifugal force was strong, and after a couple of orbits he stopped on schedule and I slammed my right shoulder into his left shoulder. Somewhere in that process (I don't think it was at the very end, but in the carouseling about) the right side of my face slammed into a particularly solid part of his back or arm or shoulder and an upper molar of mine continued in that direction towards his body, which led to an indentation being formed in my mouth at that spot (I have no idea what his body registered from that maneuver). I didn't notice any of this until we were done. From the inside it felt like a crater, but a rectangular one. I think the bleeding stopped pretty quickly (I appreciated Wen's later assurance that the mouth heals quickly, spoken like a true modern dancer). Ice has been nice :)
After this we did another turn, and I apparently missed my cue to push him off and away from the women, so we had some more face-to-face human wall work. I ended up pushing him from his shoulders while he was facing me, and he got the message. I looked at Stella, who was on ground behind me; she turned to look at the audience; Caitlin had left the area (nothing was in it for her character) and John and I turned to the audience.
Wen later said that our piece was dramatic.
The immediate feedback from the group was interesting. Emily liked the physicality of the two men challenging each other.
Angela said that she really appreciated that mood we had at the beginning, which led to the partner dancing with Stella and me. Angela would have liked a return to that sense at the end somehow and I see her point.
I think it was Brent who suggested that the fighting be less scrambling with hands and more facing off, in-your-face. Of course he couldn't know that we weren't planning on having all that extra time we made up after I missed the cue to push John away. But he was right; I felt it looked silly since I had no idea how to simulate any sort of meaningful fight anyway and I think John is a swell guy and wouldn't want to hurt him. Although he did take Stella from me. . .
I would love to write more but there will be more tomorrow!
And I don't have the energy to put together a bulk list to email yet--so you'll get this entry and Tuesday's on Tuesday.
Workshop folks: if I missed a name or there's anything you'd like me to excise, please tell me. I won't be using any last names, btw, unless you want me to. Thank you for an exhilirating, splendid day today.
Alan
There are almost 20 people, several trained formal dancers, age ranging from 20s to maybe mid-late 50s (everyone looks to be in pretty good to amazing shape), a few professional acrobatic performers, some returning to dance after a hiatus (Cynthia is returning after having had some children, for example). The group has tremendous positive energy and my sense (although it's just mine, and you are welcome to yours) that we share a similar excitement about this workshop, this gift we're giving ourselves that we can take back to our villages and communities.
I'm not sure how much I'm going to get down tonight; gratefully I took that nap (well, it took me) after getting back here to the inn so I have some juice left for typing. I thought I'd be typing about the work we did, but it's the people who are compelling for me this evening. Forgive me if I dwell too much on the mundane; this is my journal for the week and is worth more to me than it needs to be worth to you, but if it is of value, I am grateful to know it.
I know everyone by name now, having gone over a few times the Google group of the participants Kris prepared and finding a few on the web (check out Jenny's web site, for instance). I am so glad I arranged to share my car rental with both Stella (whom I met at JFK; we drove into CT the longest way possible, apparently; at one point we wondered if it would have taken less time to go around the world in the other direction) and Wen (once I got here), who is staying at the same inn I am.
Stella flew in from Greece on Friday and is couch surfing, which I had never heard of before but am considering for myself the next time I decide to give myself some travel. She and I shared a great deal during the drive and she's an amazing person, has several jobs, and does contact improvisation at home. She studied classical guitar for three years with Liza (of Evangelos & Liza fame), knows a few languages, has a great sense of humor, and is a terrific person to spend four hours in the car with. It was great to be able to talk with her about classical guitar (my instrument and my living for so many years when I was younger), the Greek Nobel-prize winning poet Odysseus Elytis (sorry about the spelling), whose work I have in two different translations at home (can't get enough), her couch surfing experiences (as a host and traveler), and lots more. We'll be heading back to NY on Friday to return the rental car. She was a lovely mover today, and ended up aloft more than once.
Wen is a professional dancer living in Manhattan--she spent time after college at the Ailey school and just shared with me that her first days there left her pretty sore also, which made me feel a little better. I have done five-hour dance days, but not this strenuous--the "non-performance" workshop I'm in every month doesn't choreograph, after all, so there's no attempt to recreate anything. That repetition is gruelling, and not just physically. Anyway, Wen is really fun to watch move and has graceful cheetah strength. Oh, and she had more good advice this evening: STRETCHING will help with the soreness. It's easy to forget that. I did take a walk after my nap, and that also helped.
Okay, I need to document the work. I admit feeling really challenged by some of what we did. It's not just hard to follow someone else's movement, which we started with in foursomes; some of the movements that came up are themselves very difficult for me physically: I have tight hamstrings and not much upper body strength. At one point I was in a group with Jenny leading, and she was moving quickly on all fours then periodically flying into a brief handstand, not fully 90 degrees to the floor, but definitely in a straight line, as though pulled from a knowing rope above. I didn't dare attempt that; I kept my legs curled in when I jumped, then of course landed sooner than she did. Of course, it's possible that other individuals struggled with copying their leaders' movements--I couldn't see all at once. And we all got to lead, sometimes in rapid succession, which is how we started (I think that's the first exercise we did): all four facing the same direction, diamond formation, the front of the diamond creating the movement to be modeled, then passing the responsibility to either of the diamond side people), but I sometimes found myself so engaged with replicating a movement that I didn't have anything original occur to me when it was my chance. More than once I missed the cue (somehow I at first had the idea that we were to send the cue always clockwise, and so got fouled up when they went the other way).
One realization that came up for me was that I have a relatively limited vocabulary of movement. Those of you who dance with me every Saturday or Wednesday can chime in about this as you see fit. I'm just saying what I felt today.
Shoulders are type-tightening; time for a stretch break.
Okay: more that has come up for me. . .
When I first started Dance Alive in January 2008, one of the aspects that most appealed to me was that there were absolutely no steps or movements to remember. The teacher (mine have been Fred, Sat Nam, and sometimes Marianne herself, who came up with Dance Alive) guides, and issues constant reminders of things to consider. Those constant, repeated reminders really help: sometimes I'm engaged enough with a particular movement that my auditory channel is either blocked or filtered out, and I never have to worry about missing a word of guidance since I KNOW it's going to come back. And also that it's okay if it doesn't, I can skip it. I can't make any mistakes because there is no such thing, like a language that has no word for failure. I reasoned that the REASON I enjoy this so much is that it's so different from what my life was as a classical musician. Memorizing music (which I always enjoyed, keep in mind) and performing it meant that I was in a perpetual containing state; if I didn't keep the music in mind all the time I felt nervous, but knowing a performance was coming up was also stressful. Still, I memorized a lot of music, including some very challenging 20th-century music, and it was good. I just don't seek that form of expression now and am savoring the approach of Dance Alive.
So, Pilobolus works like this: group improvisation (group size being variable; we worked mostly in foursomes today) leads to choreography. In other words, we find something to use and build a piece around it. Elements of improv will still be present (we had only an hour today, start to finish, to create a piece, so there's no way we could have scripted every moment even if we wanted to), but the piece will be reproducible, which Dance Alive obviously doesn't allow for in its pure state. And Emily (one of the workshop leaders; her husband Matt is the other) shared that Pilobolus founder Jonathan (hopefully she'll correct me if I misquote her quoting him) says that partner work is "not Pilobolus." At the same time, they do a considerable amount of weight-bearing and sharing, although their techniques are not a focus of this workshop. We are learning a process, under supervision, of creating group-choregraphed movement out of group improvisation. And the emphasis is not on partner work, which I love so much in the ongoing dance work I do.
This means that I was out of my comfort zone for that afternoon work today (creating, then performing our piece for the participants). I find it difficult to remember sequences of movement, and my inattentiveness at once point led to a mild injury. More on this later. . .
Five groups performed in the afternoon, and all were interesting. Look, I love watching people move (although witnessing traditional ballet has left me with sympathetic pain and I no longer seek it), and these workshop movers were all on board. Cooperation itself is riveting, I think, and was evident in all the work that was presented. One group had three women: Cynthia, Wen, and Arianna. Cynthia arrived from off-stage and began tracing a square in the space between the other two, who at first had been tentative, then accepting of what she offered. Only later we heard of their idea, that the square was being extruded into a 3D box that could then be manipulated (or occupied perhaps?), but the story that unfolded was interesting and was told through weight sharing (on more than one occasion they were all piled up, Cynthia then sliding down, her face indicating that she was full of more information to share with them) and very specific and graceful movement.
Another group featured the acrobats: Jenny, Roald, Brent, Liz. It was a comedy, one member was being taught by the others what to do; there was a lot of play here and some freeing movement, as well as some flying and facial gymnastics. As strong and capable as all the participants are, this ensemble was perhaps more overt in creating a story that showed their athleticism off well. And they were having fun, as we were.
Another, larger, group (were there six?) were doing very animated robotic movements with their arms (locked elbows) to frenetic music (we didn't rehearse with music; Emily was doing her improv DJ role). I don't remember the "story" but I remember the juxtaposition of mechanical movement and the hysteria that comes from people acting robotically.
I should now describe our group's work. John (who is also staying at the inn where Wen and I are) is, like me, a high school teacher, but at the International School in Manilla (he is from Toronto and in fact drove the nine hours from there to get here), Caitlin (who is creating her own degree program at her school in Florida and whom I had been in contact with about the possibility of sharing the car), Stella, and I started with some improv that led to the nucleus of a story having to do with taking individuals from pairs. It evolved into this: sitting with our backs to each other, gently shifting weight left-to-right with arms outstretched, then Stella and I made "accidental" contact, which then led to us back-to-back, then pushing up to standing. We improvised some contact while the others watched, then very quickly John interceded and stole Stella from me; she and I maintained eye contact until she turned away, in John's grasp. John took Stella over his shoulder (of course Stella ends up airborne in this piece too :) and moved to a position where he and she were playing hand games, paddy-cake-like. Caitlin and I attempted to dissuade them from this activity by pulling hands, moving shoulders, etc, but of course without success. Then I locked right arms with John and pulled him away. This is where the mood shifted into one of pure confrontation instead of hostage-taking.
After pulling John from Stella, we had a face off, lots of slamming of feet and sideways movement (John has some very plastic expressive facial expressions) and (which he let me know just before we went on stage) then dove through my legs, then coming to a stand behind me. We interlocked right elbows again. He and I began running forward (but facing in opposite directions with locked arms, so we were running in place, the axis of rotation staying put). The centrifugal force was strong, and after a couple of orbits he stopped on schedule and I slammed my right shoulder into his left shoulder. Somewhere in that process (I don't think it was at the very end, but in the carouseling about) the right side of my face slammed into a particularly solid part of his back or arm or shoulder and an upper molar of mine continued in that direction towards his body, which led to an indentation being formed in my mouth at that spot (I have no idea what his body registered from that maneuver). I didn't notice any of this until we were done. From the inside it felt like a crater, but a rectangular one. I think the bleeding stopped pretty quickly (I appreciated Wen's later assurance that the mouth heals quickly, spoken like a true modern dancer). Ice has been nice :)
After this we did another turn, and I apparently missed my cue to push him off and away from the women, so we had some more face-to-face human wall work. I ended up pushing him from his shoulders while he was facing me, and he got the message. I looked at Stella, who was on ground behind me; she turned to look at the audience; Caitlin had left the area (nothing was in it for her character) and John and I turned to the audience.
Wen later said that our piece was dramatic.
The immediate feedback from the group was interesting. Emily liked the physicality of the two men challenging each other.
Angela said that she really appreciated that mood we had at the beginning, which led to the partner dancing with Stella and me. Angela would have liked a return to that sense at the end somehow and I see her point.
I think it was Brent who suggested that the fighting be less scrambling with hands and more facing off, in-your-face. Of course he couldn't know that we weren't planning on having all that extra time we made up after I missed the cue to push John away. But he was right; I felt it looked silly since I had no idea how to simulate any sort of meaningful fight anyway and I think John is a swell guy and wouldn't want to hurt him. Although he did take Stella from me. . .
I would love to write more but there will be more tomorrow!
And I don't have the energy to put together a bulk list to email yet--so you'll get this entry and Tuesday's on Tuesday.
Workshop folks: if I missed a name or there's anything you'd like me to excise, please tell me. I won't be using any last names, btw, unless you want me to. Thank you for an exhilirating, splendid day today.
Alan
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