Laying on top of my bed frantically scribbling the ideas that are pouring out of my brain, and unsure whether that's due to the cloudy cold dreary weather, or because I've been thinking heavily about the brilliant poet lost today. 

Something refreshing in dance-film-ville

Here is short film that's been circulating Facebook-land.  Maybe you've seen it already but I wanted to leave it here because I think it's beautiful.  

Often (opinion) dance films are strangely void of, well, dance.  Possibly over half of the dance on camera I seek out seems to be comprised of hand gestures, artistic shots or pedestrian movement, but not a lot of bodies moving in athletic, intricate, choreographed ways.  The other half of the time I find myself watching a dance that has consequently been filmed, as is, for the stage, which doesn't really quality as a dance film.  

The selection below melds beautiful vigorous movement with a solid argument for being a film piece, not live work.  The choreography holds equal weight to the choices made in setting up the shots, the location, the music, the costuming, the editing.  Everything is genuine, intentional, any hand on a body (one's own or the other's) is super deliberate... refreshing.  All of the components are incredibly well balanced and actually deserve to be a semi-narrative film piece that can be categorized as a dance film. 

Valtari- Written & Directed by Christian Larson. Choreography by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui

Now, is the top removal near the end a bit cliche?  Maybe.  I could very well be sick and tired of people taking off their clothes onstage in dance/theater/perf art, just for the hell of it.  Then again it's kind of nice that the pair of dancers has the naked torso skin-on-skin happening.  Doesn't it feel really lovely to lay your bare back against someone else's?  Yep.  

Also-also, does the warehouse setting remind anyone else of a post-apocalyptic version of the game Portal?

Secrets & Motion duet in Plath land... it's complicated.

There is something beautiful about someone that hits the highest of highs and lowest of lows.  Maybe it's awful (first-hand) to swing through life in that manner, but it's also how to experience all that the process of living can offer.  Cue Sylvia Plath.  

I read The Bell Jar in late elementary school (before I quite understood the subject matter, though I made it my goal to explore all the same), and most recently revisited the Unabridged Journals as I tried to make my way through a new duet I'm creating for Secrets & Motion.  The duet transpires between two female dancers/characters with a very complicated relationship.  One has a secret that both know; the piece explores the brain space between the two and the mental decisions on how to reveal the secret, who reveals the secret and why.  After developing the initial concept I looked to Plath as I remembered a seed of authenticity in the following quote:

“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.” 

No, this quote doesn't donate subject matter to the duet in its action words, but more in its honest coinciding duality.  It depicts a quick moment of realization as words are tumbling out into a waiting ear, the very human quick change of opinion when it feels like you can't turn back for (self) fear of contradiction.

I began the rehearsal process with improv based on having my female dancers take turns restricting their bodies to face away from the audience.  That became stale in the duration of one rehearsal.  Fortunately (at the same time as I was rereading the Plath Journals) Luminarium was invited to a 'musing' (sort of an open rehearsal) with our dear friends at Monkeyhouse, where I presented the main ideas behind this piece as an experimental movement exercise.  The movers paired up and each duo magically found a different way to express the duet relationship.  Some used parallel movements, some translated their partner through pedestrian gestures, some brought in vocally-made sound and breath, some went in two separate directions!  How wonderful it is to have such resources...  Combine an array of Monkeyhouse/Luminarium explorations in movement with a reread of word-inspiration and I was ready to face rehearsals once more.

I won't keep elaborating on the rehearsal process, since we are only two weeks out from the show (come!) but I will speak on a few deliberate choices I've made.  I've decided not to painstakingly explain the relationship between the dancers.  This means that lots of audience members will approach me after the show eager to share their theories on the two being lovers, enemies, etc etc etc.  It is what it is, but it's also increasingly harder for two females to dance together onstage without a label of any sort!   I've also decided not to overly share the plot with the audience.  Yes, there is a secret that is dangerously on the verge of being shared against ones will, but is it for her own good?  Is the share instead catty and destructive?  To harm or to help?  Either way is it right?  The true embodiment of Facebook's "it's complicated" status (yep, I went there).  Sorry audience members, perhaps there aren't right answers or perhaps you are resolute in your solution to the danced plot... but I promise you'll be ok, even without my clarification.

--

To end, here are some quotes from the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath that are either great reading, or that freak me out as they are intensely similar to my own life and ways of living it...  The similarities will end, however, before my head ends up in an oven.

I promise...

"Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning. ...

I love people.  Everybody.  I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection.  Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me.  My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either.  I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person.  But I am not omniscent.  I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have.  And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time...

I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in a numb core of nonfeeling, or stop questioning and critiicizing life and take the easy way out.  To learn and think: to think and live; to live and learn; this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love. ...

I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life.  I can't be satisfied with the colossal job of merely living. Oh no, I must order life in sonnets and sestinas and provide a verbal reflector for my 60-watt lighted head."

All it Takes... a mental spring bloom

One callback audition with several fantastic dancers, one night full of thought post-audition, and my mind that was full of tentative half formed ideas is working like a beehive full of the world's happiest and buzziest bees.

My brain (probably other people's brains too, but who knows) is a funny place.  I am SO excited to embark on new work, my first 'real' new work since Mythos:Pathos, and my brain is literally chiseling away at four separate ideas all at the same time right now.  Yes, even as I write this blog entry.  My silly head is even trying to spark brand new ideas, outside of the four I am committing to at the start of this project.  I have never said this before, but slow down, thoughts!  I feel very grateful for my never-ending stream of inspiration... if it ever dries up, that'll be the end of me.

I am excited to start sharing some of the specifics and process behind these pieces, but I am going to wait until we have finalized casting and a rehearsal schedule.  Stay tuned, it won't be long ;)

Choreographer Challenges, a contemplation

Had a solid rehearsal today for the musical I am choreographing.  This is my newest challenge as I approached it with a bit of disdain, but now it's a study in professionalism.  Long story short, my gig choreographing Chicago for a group I like working with turned into choreographing Legally Blonde, the musical.  The first is a respected show with integral movement in a style I've lived, breathed and lusted after since I turned double digits.  The second is a newer creation based on a comedic movie (yes, musical based on movie :/) with no grounding idea for movement or really plot/songs etc, with too much time spent milking humor from sorority girl, bro and harvard student stereotypes.  Since I am getting paid well and I do like the group, actors and creative team, it's been a commitment to doing as good of a job as I can with what I am given without letting the animosity towards the show itself grow.

Honestly, I am having laughs in rehearsal and at the end of the day I am enjoying my work on the show.  While the personal success and adrenaline isn't felt watching the story come together and the plot develop while seeing my work sparkle within the greater picture, I am finding feelings of success and happiness through the creation process.  Today I taught a number that involves a crazy assortment of theatre dance, colorguard/drill team movement, body music, African dance, tap and gymnastics (whaaaa?!). We went through it segment by segment, and I tried to be a good teacher in addition to choreographer.  The cast worked hard, they were proud of themselves, and they did a good job with the movement.  Each of these little sections of the bigger number is a success- teaching it, coaching it, finessing it, praising.  Process, not product.  When my dancers in another number are jumping hardcore rope in unison, to music, and feeling confident, that's a success.  

Culminating thought.  Sometimes a choreographer needs to take herself out of the picture.  This is no time for selfish.  I am being paid to do a job I love.  It IS my responsibility to create numbers that work for the show and the bigger picture.  It's my job to teach the performers what they need to know, and to coach them so that they do the movement well on stage.  This IS NOT the job where I invest myself into my work.  Is this something I deem 'my product', care about artistically, put lots of intelligent creation effort into?  No.  More importantly, that's ok.  It's ok not to try to make an artistic masterpiece out of Legally Blonde, the musical.  It's ok to take this project on (ohhhhmygooood she can't possibly be a real-life-modern-dance-artist-creator if she does an especially trivial musical?! say my invisible snarky peers in my head!), and it's ok to talk about it and enjoy it, even if it's truly meaningless, it won't diminish me as an artist (mantra). In fact, perhaps it's impressive that I can be a good choreographer in my own world and simultaneously take on an atypical project and do an equally good job over there in musical theatre land.  

Point of the story.  It's not Chicago, I'll unfortunately have to wait to Fosse it up another day.  I am being paid to choreograph a musical, and even though it's by far not my favorite I owe it to myself, my legitimacy, and the show to do the best job I can with it.  There is NOTHING wrong with choreographing a musical, whatever genre you consider yourself based in.  If you are a creator, create, like what you do, no limits.

Eh?  

procrastinating writing with writing?

This has been a weird week, some parts great, some parts gloomy.  All parts freezing cold.  Very Luminarium focused.

It's grant writing season again, and this has made me think about the company a lot (partially cause it's inevitable when writing pages and pages about your work).  2012 was our second full-year, our first real year after the first year.  It by far had our highest highs, our lowest lows, but SO much success.  I've learned about my process, learned about myself as a teacher, and learned even more about running a company.  Maybe most importantly I've been enjoying growing a community of dancers (and collaborators) I love and value for different reasons, and that can work with how I work.  I can realize now that I don't have to settle in who I work with (performers and otherwise), and that it's a disservice to me and my work if I settle.

Integrity.  I spoke on this in the text/conText lecture we did a few weeks back.  In that specific setting I was discussing it solely in reference to creating work.  Unless it's a commission, or you just really owe someone a favor, I feel like work should only be created when there is a reason to create.  I really dislike projects that serve to be purely self-gratifying, abstract for the sole sake of being weird, and also those that are tepid and half-hearted.  I try very hard, if it isn't the root of my motivation already, to find a seed of something human in everything I make.  I like to adopt the stories I explore, connect choreographic story lines with bits and pieces of my life experience, and hope what I make relates equally to whoever views it, in whatever way they find.  I love criticism and discussion about my work, as long as the criticism is rooted in integrity... Constructive comments, if honest, are great because they mean people are watching and taking some interest.

Trust. My process is... well, my process.  It's sometimes very roundabout, sometimes very tough to participate in as a performer.  I know this, but I also know it doesn't work if the people I am working with have no trust in my work.  A lot of my stuff comes together at the last minute, with a lighting idea, with a sound atmosphere, with some other magic... Anyways, I care about the pieces I make and wouldn't put my dancers onstage looking stupid or subpar and it doesn't work if the dancers I am intimately involved with don't believe it.

Future.  Really, if Luminarium keeps going with equal upwards momentum I'll be pleased.  I meaaaaaan, I had my picture on a full page of the Globe this year. Shazaam (yes, being an ass for the sake of being an ass here). Next year (2013) will bring about necessary changes based on what we've learned.  We want bigger shows, more epic venues, more name recognition, and more collaboration.  We want to pay our dancers more to further sustain performing arts in this community (and because they are awesome), and eventually to make a paying career out of what we do.  Through all of this my ultimate goal is to not lose focus or personal integrity, and only make decisions for reasons I value.

Not too hard, right?

For now... back to writing small grants to sustain year 3!  I already want to brag about this season so so so much, but no spoilers yet :(

the parts i love about performance...

Mythos:Pathos went up last weekend... one sold out show, one over-sold show, one mostly filled show.

Let downs:  Severly injured dancer days before the show, only being able to watch from the wings.  The first of these things is unavoidable, worsened when your understudy is already filling in, but not worth extra stress animosity.  Make it work, fix it, or pull the piece.  While I made it work by simple revisions (yes, after building a giant metal urn to also put in silhouette when I thought the dancer could actually just be still in space for the 10 mins), I didn't end up loving the piece this time around, which was a bummer.  Between the last show and this one I had really wanted to revise and improve, tweak lighting and add cohesive ideas, but losing two dancers meant just reteaching and running the piece in the two hours of rehearsal I had between shows.  Oh well, there's time left.

Awesome stuff: Hubris through Icarus through Prometheus. I am really really pleased with the way this chunk has been starting to gel.  There are a few images that are perfect overlays with those that have been stored in my head for months, and some moments where I just find myself watching in the dark with goosebumps.  I could go on and on and on... but I won't.

Anyways, the last paragraph helps illustrate what I love about performance.  I hate performing, most of the time, myself.  Watching dancers that I know as normal people become/embody/give their own life to the characters and such onstage in a piece I have created is so damn rewarding, though.

I'm not in the mood to go on and on... another time!

Famous?

So, my Q&A with the Globe was circulating on the internet this morning... and I decided to go out and get a paper copy.  Flipped to the Arts Section, it obviously wasn't in the first page or two, but then I noticed this GINORMOUS photo of myself on the last forward-facing page, with a full-page article.  I had to close it almost immediately, like groundhog-seeing-shadow reaction.  But, then I opened it again, and read it wide-eyed.

Article here...

Obviously none of this was a surprise, I obviously sat with the reporter and spoke those words, but it is always funny to see yourself in print.

Every weekday of my years in college, I'd carve out 20 minutes to run to the Campus Center for lunch, crossing my fingers that there would still be a free copy of the NYT and the Globe.  I'd discard the bulk of the paper, yank the Arts section, and try to devour as much as I could before sprinting back to class.  Theatre reviews, lack of dance articles, full page ads for new stuff on Broadway... I read it all.  I was so familiar with this routine, the Arts sections of each paper, and there was always a familiar anonymity-- as I could spout off on Broadway-s who's-who, ground-breaking new performance art... obviously there was a great divide between these people, and me!

But today, there I was... running my mouth about ChoreoFest, and this Luminarium Dance that I love so much.  The interview isn't really about me, at all, but the words were just so familiar (duh, I said them..) and the way she punctuated and included a laugh or awkward wording was just me-- the text version!

It's an almost full-circle moment.  My freshman year at MHC I loaded up on both dance courses, and journalism/anthro (also bio/chem, but that's another story for another day).  My Women's Public Voices class was immensely enjoyable, slightly discouraging (journalists need to be concise?!), and eye-opening.  I remember touring through Time Magazine in New York City with Priscilla Painton (MHC alum- then deputy managing editor, now editor in chief at Simon & Schuster) wandering the halls of the high-rise building and wondering if journalism was something I could do- little bit different than being the copy editor of the high school paper... How much dance would I have to compromise, how would I get to report on what I wanted to... so many questions.  I never considered trying to be on the other side of the situation- the subject!  Still, there are days where I'd love to be able to balance what I do with reviewing local art, but I'd never want to take time away from/compromise all that I've worked for.

This is always what I've wanted to do, recognized for it or not... I've always wanted to be a creator. Always!  I am SO lucky to have reached my 'end-goal' so early in life, and now look how much time I have to better what I do, to learn, to grow, to expand with a partner that is equally inspired and motivated.  To be recognized for this, though, and to be gaining press and steam like we have been this entire summer?  Amazing.

the process heats up!

We are finally getting to that magic point where I can sit on the couch, cross-legged, eyes-closed, Bose headphones on, and listen and listen and listen to music in attempt to score the new piece of choreography. Merli and I toss things around, we speak in really random descriptive non-English to figure out what we both have in our separate heads and how we merge it, and then I sit and layer and tweak, repeat repeat repeat.  Sometimes I get to go make awkward vocal percussion on the mic in my office or rock the midi keyboard and its affiliated noises, sometimes I go record the washer machine, sometimes I have to dig through sound websites to find what I need. I love creating sound!

Backtracking.

Of course it is nice to be motivated enough by a piece of music or something auditory to create choreography off of it.  I did this for my big senior piece in college, and for my more recent Luminarium work everything but blue, but there is something so satisfying about being able to score the choreography and make the sound in your head accompany the established movement.  On a technical level sound is nice because it is stable.  It stays right where you leave it, you can always undo what you did, and you can close your eyes and listen to it a thousand times on repeat to determine whether or not it works. (At the same time, I love choreographing because the process is the exact opposite of all of these reasons!)

Perhaps the happy compromise is to find an auditory seed of motivation (pre-movement) or at least a general sound/feel/song to put on your mental cork-board, and then go about your merry way creating movement, and then fill in the gaps and score it all out.  Hmm...

workworkwork

Being a creator is damn tough.

Being an overacheiving artist that cannot seem to say no to anything because who knows what it can turn into is even tougher.

The minute I get inspired or start building visions in my head it's all over and I get sucked in!

I love it and it's wonderfully stressful and all consuming and then I say I'm never going to do it again, and then BAM what do you know guess what I'm doing again.

In the process I'm in love with the project though, and it's hard to make sure I don't abandon my home/life/family in the midst.

This doesn't really apply to Luminarium stuff, I'm pretty much always in love with Lumiarium work and feel justified and productive and happy and never regretful.  That feels good, at least!

Kim's Pick-Me-Up Video Playlist. Volume 1.

Here are my favorite internet videos for a mood reversal (even if temporary) when I am feeling gloomy or sad....

Boom King...
This is my go-to.  It appeals to my immature sense of humor, and is just genius.  I am MADLY in love with these guys.  Whoever decided no more Flight of the Conchords sucks majorly.

BEST (not worst) music video ever...
Tim Early's January repertory piece...2007... or maybe 2008?  Just watch.  It needs no words...

Baryshnikov... Tharp... Wild Abandon... What more does one need?
This is dance comfort food... Beautiful out of control looking, yet completely in control, I love love love it.

Note:  These are all wonderful procrastination tactics.  More to follow...

post-weekend whatever.

This weekend was a weird emotion sandwich.  I stayed home from Tobin on Friday, mainly because I hadn't cried yet and was nervous about when it would strike... I didn't want to break down at work.  I distracted myself with crazy cleaning, packing for Fringe, shopping, caffeinating... and the like.

Saturday and Sunday were amazing.  While Merli summed it up so wonderfully, I won't recap- but check out her narrative of the weekend.  It was full of art, silliness, support, AMAZING weather, and lots of love and fun.  Sidenote: I am not destined to be a pool shark, but I plan on practicing, perhaps improving my game beyond default wins and unintentional trick shots...  Stayed up until like 5am with Christin/Merli/Mark/Matt, and then even later with Merli (more chatting and then jumping into and on our beds).  I have such a great dance company/family, this has grown into something beyond dancers and choreographers and I am lucky.

My mom/Jenn/Christos came to the show on Sunday.  I knew I was inevitably going to break down when I saw them, as I hadn't seen any of my family members since I got the news, so I made them come in early.  Weirdly I didn't totally lose it until they left to go get dinner, and I found myself grieving inside a temple.  Go figure.  Good thing for the dark shades, even though I looked like a jerk walking around with them on.  Alan wouldn't have liked my outward display of emotion.... Just like he didn't like, oh, everything?

I showed my new piece twice this weekend, of course with Merli's fun new piece and other greatest-hits too, and it was received as I hoped it would be.  While our performance spaces were nutty and backwards and disorganized, the show went well on both nights.  The experience made me even more excited to show it in November (4-5, 8 pm, green st studios) in a dark and deep theatre space.  I'm nervous for Mobius on Oct 21, as I just found out its a very skinny and longish space.  We'll see...

While I want to get down to discussing my new work in a blog post, I don't have the time to do it justice.  Keep your eyes peeled.  What I will say now, is that it depends so majorly on the dancers (what is emotionally portrayed or restrained, and their connections) and their performance quality made some serious magic happen on Sunday night.  I remember sitting in the dark with my silly clamp light in my lap, watching and lighting, tears flowing down my face, and trying both suavely and frantically to wipe them away as the dancers got close to the downstage region, so they wouldn't see me awkwardly in the darkness.

I absolutely love being a creator, wouldn't ever ever want it any other way.  I am very grateful that I was able to take a big risk, that I have a great partner, and that there are so many supporters that are making our org flourish.

So now we are in a new week...

Monday I crashed, cried, enjoyed my puppy and the weather, and regained my composure.

Yesterday I went to work, and had one of the first successes I've had in the arts at Tobin.  The kids have been a hard sell on performing mediums, but I had a good sized group of girls trust me enough to do some theatre, and they had a great time.  At the end of the day I got word of some interest in dance...

This week is grant-mania.  Merli and I have 5 grants due this week, and a CRAZY project in mind.  Wish us luck... We also have a bunch due over November and December.  While we only have a year behind our belts, it was such a solid year.  2 self-produced performances, a statewide tour, invitations to perform in multiple fundraisers and festivals, a Boston Center for the Arts performance, invite to be guest lecturers at a MHC arts talk, a gala, a community outreach project... now a Mobius performance next week.  We have no intention on losing momentum!

So that's life.... and non-life.

I'm sad, happy, numb, relieved, more sad, more numb.

We were running our show to prep for Seacoast Fringe this weekend, and I finally began to love my new piece.  I had tears in my eyes at a moment or two, because it was finally becoming perfect, powerful, expressing just what I wanted it to say.

After packing up all of our belongings, chatting with dancers, getting a park bench into a station wagon etc, I read a text from my mom:

'Grampa is at peace,  Auntie just called me.  They just called her that he just passed away.  I don't want to talk so excuse the texting.  React with love and relief for him that he is out of the nightmare he was in in his broken body.  Lisa told him we all love him and named us all to him and said he will be in our hearts forever.'

I passed his hospice/home on the way to rehearsal, passing through Needham, and had just said a few nice words and by usual 'hello' as I passed by without enough time to stop.  I knew from my mom yesterday night that he had finally committed to dying, telling the nurses to freeze all of his Ensures, raising a fist to the Armenian national anthem, and then saying to family members that he was going to try to die now.  Always a philosophical joker, this is all taken with a grain of salt.

Fast-forward to 10:59pm.  I got that text from my mom and just have been a bit numb since.  I've spent so long (7 months, really) preparing for this very moment, and now I'm just so unsure of how to react.

For some time I've thought this piece I am creating was linked to his death.  I was wondering whether it would be linked with our October performance, or the November showing of the piece, and as I sit here I realize it is perfect.  The new piece has found its finality, though yet to be performed, I've told the story correctly, and now he can go and find peace.  Biologically/scientifically, who really knows if there is a link or a convenient overlap, but I like to believe in the power of my art sometimes.

I feel guilty that I am sad and a bit angry at his death.  I've had so much wonderful time to visit and talk and prepare for death, but I feel so robbed and unsure.  I feel guilty that I haven't visited in over a week, I am sad that I left him alone in the drab room with the dated floral window treatments and slow-moving nurses.  Death's a real pain in the ass.

Looking forward to spending time performing this piece, and taking Luminarium to Portsmouth, not everyone has something they love so much to occupy a whole weekend and make them focus.

Sad, sad, sad, more sad.  The end.

(because now I don't want to write anymore...)