I don't love Cristian Rizzo's work. I know it's sacrilege in this town where everyone is falling all over themselves in praise of him. Adam and I went to see his piece b.c, janvier 1545, fontainebleau. at On The Boards this last weekend. The work was a solo for dancer Julie Guibert though it was simultaneously a duet for Guibert and Rizzo. This is the second time I've had the opportunity to witness Rizzo's staged work and the two experiences feel so similar. He creates the most meticulous and striking visuals on the stage. Both times the set has been multi-layered, shifted during the performance and provided a changing landscape. Both times I have really loved looking at the set on the stage. What I long for in Rizzo's work, I think, is for the performers to change along with the props. I long for a surprise.
In last weekends work the curtain opens on a Guibert laying on a table with her back to us. The floor is covered in candles. Rizzo is a cross between a modern day skateboarder, an aristocrat, and a bunny rabbit. He watches her then he s-l-o-w-l-y picks up two candles and places them on the table. Right away I know what we're in for here. She will repeat a phrase and perform variations on it and he will watch her and collect the candles. But dammit there are so many candles. I'm agitated in my seat. I don't want to sit here and watch the candle collecting. This is potentially a great place to put me in. This agitated state can be a great place to speak to me. Make me think its one thing and the BAM show me it isn't. Agitate me for long enough that the most minute satisfaction will feel colossal and then here I am in the experience of being moved by something that would normally not even register on my radar. But no, he picks up all the candles as she repeats the phrase and its variations.
Julie Guibert has an incredible facility. Her performance is full of astounding and elegant feats of strength. Watching this understated Olympian-ness was refreshing. I kept recalling a performance at last years NorthWest New Works festival where a company made a work based around really brazen feats of strength and how I kept wanting them to be more impossible. If the message is "look at how incredibly impressive this is" I wanted it to be fucking impossible to understand. But Guibert, who broadcast no ego that night, left me awestruck. This is the nature of my thoughts as I watch her move. I'm thinking things like "that is so much harder than it looks" and "now this phrase is in this facing". With the exception of two birdlike arm flaps by Rizzo, which engaged me most of anything in the evening, I relate to the movement in an almost scholastic capacity.
I wanted more from the night which went like this: A woman lies on a table and begins to move while things around her exit. The candles leave. The props leave. The hanging sculptures leave. The man pulling the strings leaves. The curtain closes and when it opens again she is alone in the pure white room, finally. She is looking at us, finally. And I think, aw - now the piece can begin! But it's over and the crowd is going fucking ape shit. He comes out and bows and is just adorable without his bunny mask on.
I leave as unsatisfied as I left his work the last time. Yet I know I will see him again if I get the opportunity. I think this is why - though I don't leave steeped in that Spoken To Through Art feeling, I do know with complete certainty that what I have witnessed is crafted, made with meticulous intention and thought, and most importantly it is sincere. It is made sincerely and it is offered sincerely and that is always a gift. A rare gift and an inspiring one.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Just make something happen.
I went to see the last installment Here/Now http://www.herenowonline.blogspot.com/ which is a totally cool movement/music/improvisation/performance experiment where a musician and a dancer are randomly paired to improvise an on-the-spot performance.
What I saw there solidified something for me - Just make something happen.
Anything. Just make anything happen. I really do mean THING here, anyTHING. The pieces which were successful for me that evening were the ones in which a series of events were easy to identify... even shitty events. Now she has her hands in her pockets... Now is the part where her foot is stuck to the lid of the vase which is in the middle of the floor... Now she and the musician are kicking the lid back and forth to each other... etc. Even the most inane details are so interesting when they hint at a story. Dance works (that night or out in the wide world of set choreography) that are stocked full of endless abstracted dance movement just don't keep in the room with them. I space out. I feel the weight of everything about dance that irks me. I start to dance in my head. I'm not there. But even the lamest action which marks an impending change keeps me engaged. I'm in my seat like And then what?... And then what?.... And then what?
Let's get a few things straight here:
I don't mean story in a literal way. I don't even like story in a literal way. I am the one who will not get the story if one is presented, wont read the program notes before seeing the show, and don't want to read any reviews of anything ever. If you try to tell me a literal story with your show chances are that I won't get very much out of your show. That is just who I am and what I look for in art.
I mean Story as a series of episodes or actions. I mean A Series Of Episodes Or Actions as ways that the audience gets to witness the changing focus, intent, emotional space, or vibration of the performer(s). I have an idea that this witnessing can distract us from our own guardedness and our own expectations about art and being moved so that a real interaction with the art can take place. If your a smart maker, you'll use the momentum of story to engage and entertain while sneaking in the temporal information, to you know, make the art.
But that's just my opinion.
Also, many of the musicians, with a few really wonderful exceptions, didn't seem to know how to improvise with their dancer. Some stashed themselves in a corner and didn't even check out what the dancer was doing. One ran around the stage with signs. The signs had sounds written on them that the audience was to make. It was a super clever idea that I think could have been successful with a softer execution, but that night it was only successful at avoiding an improvised duet entirely.
There were some big generalizations in the night for me:
1- dancers want to touch the musicians
2- musicians don't want to touch the dancers
3- it can be difficult to have faith in something long enough to develop it
4- just make something happen
Go to Here/Now! It's a totally cool experience. I give everyone mad props for taking the risk and seeing what comes out of them on the spot and with a stranger (and potentially out of their element)! I'd love to be a part of it. I found it to be a great tool for my choreographic brain to root out what I am drawn to on stage. Just go.
What I saw there solidified something for me - Just make something happen.
Anything. Just make anything happen. I really do mean THING here, anyTHING. The pieces which were successful for me that evening were the ones in which a series of events were easy to identify... even shitty events. Now she has her hands in her pockets... Now is the part where her foot is stuck to the lid of the vase which is in the middle of the floor... Now she and the musician are kicking the lid back and forth to each other... etc. Even the most inane details are so interesting when they hint at a story. Dance works (that night or out in the wide world of set choreography) that are stocked full of endless abstracted dance movement just don't keep in the room with them. I space out. I feel the weight of everything about dance that irks me. I start to dance in my head. I'm not there. But even the lamest action which marks an impending change keeps me engaged. I'm in my seat like And then what?... And then what?.... And then what?
Let's get a few things straight here:
I don't mean story in a literal way. I don't even like story in a literal way. I am the one who will not get the story if one is presented, wont read the program notes before seeing the show, and don't want to read any reviews of anything ever. If you try to tell me a literal story with your show chances are that I won't get very much out of your show. That is just who I am and what I look for in art.
I mean Story as a series of episodes or actions. I mean A Series Of Episodes Or Actions as ways that the audience gets to witness the changing focus, intent, emotional space, or vibration of the performer(s). I have an idea that this witnessing can distract us from our own guardedness and our own expectations about art and being moved so that a real interaction with the art can take place. If your a smart maker, you'll use the momentum of story to engage and entertain while sneaking in the temporal information, to you know, make the art.
But that's just my opinion.
Also, many of the musicians, with a few really wonderful exceptions, didn't seem to know how to improvise with their dancer. Some stashed themselves in a corner and didn't even check out what the dancer was doing. One ran around the stage with signs. The signs had sounds written on them that the audience was to make. It was a super clever idea that I think could have been successful with a softer execution, but that night it was only successful at avoiding an improvised duet entirely.
There were some big generalizations in the night for me:
1- dancers want to touch the musicians
2- musicians don't want to touch the dancers
3- it can be difficult to have faith in something long enough to develop it
4- just make something happen
Go to Here/Now! It's a totally cool experience. I give everyone mad props for taking the risk and seeing what comes out of them on the spot and with a stranger (and potentially out of their element)! I'd love to be a part of it. I found it to be a great tool for my choreographic brain to root out what I am drawn to on stage. Just go.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Damn, Tony Robbins!
Via my mom...
A real decision is measured by the fact that you've taken a new action. If there's no action, you haven't truly decided. ~Tony Robbins
More about that later...
A real decision is measured by the fact that you've taken a new action. If there's no action, you haven't truly decided. ~Tony Robbins
More about that later...
Friday, September 10, 2010
Anniversary Gift
Speaking of Adam Kozie, who is my boyfriend...
He isn't moved by dance. Those are his own words.
What is it about dance that befuddles people? Is there another art form that gets this kind of black listing? Are there people out there who don't like music, or movies, or photographs? Miguel Gutierrez talks about a Perceptual Intelligence. He asserts that we can train our audience to have a perceptual intelligence in part by assuming that they already have one. By not dumbing down the work so that everyone feels that they "get it" we can create an opportunity for people to actually engage with the work and to cultivate a new sensibility. At least that is what I took him to mean. After spending some time around him I feel quite certain that he would let me know in a heartbeat if, in fact, that was not what he meant. I think another hefty factor is that a lot of folks only get exposed to shitty fucking dance.
For the most part I feel fine about the smaller artistic community around dance. I like that it is a special club and that we dancers and dance lovers generally relate to the world in similar ways. But Adam Kozie is my long time boyfriend and his not being moved by dance puts a bee in my fucking bonnet. This dance making thing is an essential part of my genetic make up. I am who I am because and in spite of it. It is the reason I'm on the planet and I now know first hand how devastating it is to remove it from me. How can my love not be moved by the thing I love, and in fact, am? Is there any planet on which this is acceptable? As you can see I've got a lot of questions.
A couple years ago on our first anniversary, I made Adam an anniversary dance called Big Year. I had two goals: to make a dance with an old shitty point and shoot digital camera and to move him, you know, with dance. Our first anniversary was this cruddy time in our relationship. It had a real Are we gonna do this, or not? kind of feeling and I felt it really strongly while making the dance. I cried over and over again while editing. I had hoped that the directness of it would help the "moved" bit along. This is just from me to you.
I don't think that I was successful in moving Adam, but I am curious about what came out of it. I did things I might not let myself do for public consumption and I like that. Most profoundly it is a marker in time for me. Yes, that is just the way it was. Phew, it is not that way anymore.
Adam is also an incredible drummer (INCREDIBLE), who you can check out here with a project called X-Ray Press http://www.xraypress.net/, though I think you'll dig 'em a whole lot more if you go here http://www.myspace.com/xraypress and play the song Chord & Mumble.
Ps-
Adam did really enjoy Diana Szeinblum's Alaska (which is fucking incredible) and had more to say about it on our way out of the theater than I did. And I love to talk shop more than anything!
You can pay On The Boards five bucks and stream it here http://www.ontheboards.tv/alaska BUT I tried it and had to wait for it to load every minute or so even after trying it on windows which Adam says is better with those things. Fair Warning.
He isn't moved by dance. Those are his own words.
What is it about dance that befuddles people? Is there another art form that gets this kind of black listing? Are there people out there who don't like music, or movies, or photographs? Miguel Gutierrez talks about a Perceptual Intelligence. He asserts that we can train our audience to have a perceptual intelligence in part by assuming that they already have one. By not dumbing down the work so that everyone feels that they "get it" we can create an opportunity for people to actually engage with the work and to cultivate a new sensibility. At least that is what I took him to mean. After spending some time around him I feel quite certain that he would let me know in a heartbeat if, in fact, that was not what he meant. I think another hefty factor is that a lot of folks only get exposed to shitty fucking dance.
For the most part I feel fine about the smaller artistic community around dance. I like that it is a special club and that we dancers and dance lovers generally relate to the world in similar ways. But Adam Kozie is my long time boyfriend and his not being moved by dance puts a bee in my fucking bonnet. This dance making thing is an essential part of my genetic make up. I am who I am because and in spite of it. It is the reason I'm on the planet and I now know first hand how devastating it is to remove it from me. How can my love not be moved by the thing I love, and in fact, am? Is there any planet on which this is acceptable? As you can see I've got a lot of questions.
A couple years ago on our first anniversary, I made Adam an anniversary dance called Big Year. I had two goals: to make a dance with an old shitty point and shoot digital camera and to move him, you know, with dance. Our first anniversary was this cruddy time in our relationship. It had a real Are we gonna do this, or not? kind of feeling and I felt it really strongly while making the dance. I cried over and over again while editing. I had hoped that the directness of it would help the "moved" bit along. This is just from me to you.
I don't think that I was successful in moving Adam, but I am curious about what came out of it. I did things I might not let myself do for public consumption and I like that. Most profoundly it is a marker in time for me. Yes, that is just the way it was. Phew, it is not that way anymore.
Adam is also an incredible drummer (INCREDIBLE), who you can check out here with a project called X-Ray Press http://www.xraypress.net/, though I think you'll dig 'em a whole lot more if you go here http://www.myspace.com/xraypress and play the song Chord & Mumble.
Ps-
Adam did really enjoy Diana Szeinblum's Alaska (which is fucking incredible) and had more to say about it on our way out of the theater than I did. And I love to talk shop more than anything!
You can pay On The Boards five bucks and stream it here http://www.ontheboards.tv/alaska BUT I tried it and had to wait for it to load every minute or so even after trying it on windows which Adam says is better with those things. Fair Warning.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Hooray!
No meniscal tear for me! Just an over use injury!
Physical Therapy! I love Physical Therapy! Apparently I don't know how to use my very strong rotators and that causes my knees to track poorly. At Cornish I "learned" that my bony structure was such that my knees would just track poorly...
What The Fuck, Peeps?
I was like: Wait a minute, are you telling me that I can learn not to do this anymore?
and he was like: of course!?
phew.
Today's sermon comes from Adam Kozie, who is not only a super fox, but one of the coolest human beings that I have ever known. It's an idea I've been obsessed with for many, many years now:
amen.
Physical Therapy! I love Physical Therapy! Apparently I don't know how to use my very strong rotators and that causes my knees to track poorly. At Cornish I "learned" that my bony structure was such that my knees would just track poorly...
What The Fuck, Peeps?
I was like: Wait a minute, are you telling me that I can learn not to do this anymore?
and he was like: of course!?
phew.
Today's sermon comes from Adam Kozie, who is not only a super fox, but one of the coolest human beings that I have ever known. It's an idea I've been obsessed with for many, many years now:
amen.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
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