Moments of “what will I discover in this space this week.” Inevitably, surprises.
Seeing how deeply a practice can change when there is routine, discipline, structure, and enough space given, to feel yourself, to warm up, to listen to the many stories that the body is trying to tell.
Space for exploration, and seeing, asking, where does this exploration want to go? Does it always reach there? The moments of push and pull, and catch and release. The repetition of this idea, and how it’s expressed in many ways.
Literally, catch, catch an orange, catch a ball, they are up in the air at the same time.
Let the ball roll, catch the orange, don’t let the juice spill.
The many balls we are juggling onstage.
And a scene, the expected, the unexpected, how will you pick these items up, what technique will I use with you, how do I tell, what risks you are, and are not, willing to take?
Rhythm, and functionality. Team work and a competitive spirit.
Feeling strong, wrapping around one leg, there’s no way he is getting to the other side. My team is determined.
Feeling strong, a heavy body across my lap, and my body is told – to move forward. Move forward, move, move, move, and shimmy and feel, feel the weight of my thighs, resilience.
A nose that wants to work overtime, but an energy that is determined.
There’s that time, to myself, in the space, let’s start, let’s start, but as soon as I’ve entered, the power of the studio takes on: bright lights, there’s no need for words, the diary comes out, pages that long to be written on, and there is a floor that wants to be rolled on, and there are walls that want to be bounced off of.
There are instruments to be played, and a foundation, but not necessarily a set of rules.
There is the idea that risk is an option….
and there is the feeling of what is it like, to stay in it, what can I discover, if I commit to this tree, if I never let go of this tree?
Even as our small branches are drifting off and telling their stories, what if we, here, as the tree kept exploring, stayed committed, a natural inclination, that becomes an afterthought, as the branches start to intertwine, as my trunk falls to the floor, and my toes become roots….
Mondays, the energy feels slow, groggy, slow to rise, slow to energize, slow to feel the pleasures of the morning.
Feeling us moving through the gestures, slowly starting to unpack, intention.
This idea of space, pockets of space in-between, for thought, for reflection, to express and to unpack feelings, a moment.
The mornings are quiet, construction, sweeping, feeling the beginning layers of dust, sneaking in a cup of chai, walking through, avoiding the stray dogs, not recognizing any building, and the expression of surprise at having wandered this way.
In this blog space, we talk about performance processes, interdisciplinary practices and various ways of creating performance and engaging audiences.