The Labyrinth Project

Yesterday I had my first site rehearsal for the Labyrinth Project with two Mendana Productions dancers. We used the labyrinth at St Paul's Episcopal church in Seattle as it is open to the public and we mostly had the courtyard to ourselves. And, in true Seattle fashion, it did rain on us, but only a little bit.

I am relatively new to labyrinths. I went to a labyrinth workshop earlier this spring and learned about how this concept stretches across centuries, across cultures, across religious traditions. They are meant to be a meditation practice, a personal journey into the unknown, a time for self reflection or soul searching. Then, last Saturday, the labyrinth was introduced in my birthing class as a metaphor for going into labor. (Perhaps I will write more about that another time!)

Now, I am bringing the labyrinth practice together with my dance practice.

In rehearsal, we played with the InterPlay concept "Dancing on Behalf Of". The invitation to the dancers is to hold an intention, a question, a concern, while moving. This gives us something bigger than just ourselves to relate to while doing what we do best: dance. We danced on behalf of our own question. We danced on behalf of each other's questions. And we ended by dancing on behalf of the abuse of power in the world. These intentions give our improvisations a sense if immediacy, a way to relate to the world and each other in our abstract expression.

Please share your own labyrinth experiences. What kind of questions do you hold as you walk a labyrinth? Has it been a transformational experience for you? Have you learned something new or gained a new insight? This project is in the very earliest stages of exploration. I would love to hear your labyrinth stories!

Finding a place called home

I am in the process of thinking about developing a new choreography. One that explores themes of displacement. Many people around the world are displaced from their homes by war, natural disasters, foreclosures, or by choice. What do we cling to when we are displaced? What gives us a sense of who we are and where we belong? How do we make “home” when we are immersed somewhere else? I want to explore ideas of belonging, determination, persistence, coping, longing.

I am inspired by my recent research on refugees in Afghanistan and Pakistan as well as my own relocation from San Francisco to Seattle. Their displacement is much more violent than my own. Yet there are some human similarities: yearning for familiar routines, familiar surroundings, familiar faces. In no way is my displacement by choice the same as their displacement by war. Yet can we find common emotions in our disparate circumstances? I am interested in the themes that link disparate people, using the language of movement to express our common humanity.

Do you have a story of displacement or relocation in your life? How do you answer the above questions for yourself?

A Welcoming

Since moving to Seattle, I have been out and about taking in as much dance performance as I can stand. In the last week I have seen about 16 Seattle modern dance choreographers. The breadth of style and diversity of expression is exciting and energizing! I am astounded by how much the modern dance community has grown since I moved away ten years ago. Last weekend I went to Northwest New Works at On The Boards and I have been going to Beyond the Threshold: Seattle International Dance Festival all week. My brain is buzzing when I get home each night processing all of the images and ideas I have just seen.

Last night in particular. Cyrus Khambatta (festival artistic director), Eva Stone, and Donald Byrd had a Q&A or Talk Back after the show. Each of them curated an evening of Seattle choreographers this week and they talked about their intentions in creating these evenings. What stays with me the most from that discussion is Byrd's articulation of the value he places on diversity of expression and the need as a dance community to foster and nurture those voices. The attitude I heard coming from him is the more dance the better! He exudes openness and acceptance and support for dance artists at all points along their professional journey. Both Byrd and Stone were incredibly approachable after the show.  Neither of them has ever seen my work nor seen me dance, but they welcomed me to town as if I were a long lost friend. And that kind of welcome makes me more excited then ever to start choreographing and presenting work here.

Thank you Cyrus, Eva, and Donald for your generous welcoming of me last night. Thank you to all of the Seattle choreographers presenting work over the last week for your evocative images and tenacious creativity.

"How Have You Changed As A Performer?"

This week I taught my final InterPlay Performance Technique class. (The class will continue with the awesome leadership of Gretchen Wegner! Read more about our last class and our F-ing Great Art.) As Gretchen and I took some time to reflect on the past three years of teaching this class together, she asked me, "How has InterPlay changed you as a performer?" What a great and profound question! Several answers came to mind fairly quickly:

1) InterPlay has given me access to a full range of expression. I used to be scared to death to talk or use my voice in front of people. Ask me to move? No problem! I could do that for hours. I did not know at the time that I wanted more possibilities than that. But now that I have those possibities, I can't imagine dance-making without it! This has come in handy specifically when performing with Epiphany Productions Sonic Dance Theatre and when I played the role of Miranda in Shakespeare's Tempest.

2) InterPlay has awakened a passion for integrating story and choreography. When I first moved to San Francisco in 2002, I choreographed a solo as a response to my overwhelm with homelessness and panhandling. I had never lived anywhere with so many homeless people. The dance was abstract and perhaps a little indulgent (debatable, I'm sure) and I did NOT speak onstage. In 2008, I interviewed female WWII veterans to use their stories and their words as inspiration and as text for In Remembrance Of. All of the dancers (me included) sang, spoke, and danced our hearts out onstage.

3) I have new visions of gathering stories from the street, partnering with some organizations that are helping people on the margins, and creating more dance theatre--not about indulging my desire to express my overwhelm, but truly trying to bridge a gap in our society. Ambitious--I know! InterPlay has unlocked some big visions. There will definitely be some smaller projects along the way to fruition. This one could take a few years.

4) Through the InterPlay community, I received so much affirmation and validation of myself as an artist and the art that I create. I feel a little squeamish admitting this one. I shouldn't need external validation to claim myself as an artist, right? But in a little way, I do. I need to hear, every once in awhile, that what I am creating or what I am offering the world is valid and valued. I have the deepest gratitude to the InterPlay community and to the co-founders, Cynthia Winton-Henry and Phil Porter, for their continued support and affirmations.

Thank you, Gretchen, for asking. And thank you for being such an incredible co-teacher. Thank you to all of the individuals who have been "regulars" to this class at various times.

Painting with Light

Art Every Day Month Day 12

A lighting designer paints the stage and the dancers with color, light, and shadows. I love this quote by lighting designer Jean Rosenthall:

“Dancers live in light as fish live in water. The stage space in which they move is their aquarium, their portion of the sea.”

I spent 10 hours at the theatre today in tech and dress rehearsal for Shared Space 3. The choreographers, Todd Eckert and Nol Simonse, are two of the best artists to work with. Their creative vision is inspiring and they are incredibly great individuals. Who wouldn't want to spend the day with these guys?

The show includes a Greek myth, love stories, and a wake. The lighting is simple yet evocative--at least I think so. I enjoyed playing with deep saturated color to evoke Hades and hell. The love stories are accompanied by gorgeous operatic music and crisp clear light. The last piece feels dreamy and I played with different blues and purples for the various sections.

Today's images are captured with my oh-so-consumer level camera.