Thursday, August 9, 2012

Beautiful Ache

I must not, under any circumstances, succumb and watch Before Sunrise this week. I feel the urge tickling my neck, itching my imagination, begging me to revisit the film I've secretly hidden in the archives of my brain as the favorite movie I'll never mention as such.

 If I do, I'll drown in my imaginative urge for the whimsical and lose myself in one of those achingly beautiful moments that leaves me lost in my hunger for more beauty- even though the beauty of the experience itself was only so beautiful because it was passing. 

I'll weep myself a saltwater lake, not for the lost but for that which never was and never will be. I'll weep a lake for the end of a moment that was only ever meant to exist for a moment and even in the stories I weave lacks a satisfying resolution.

When, amazingly, the desired is given a second chance at life, an opportunity for the lost impossibility, it falters. It shudders under the weight of expectation and seems ugly and unsatisfying when it is all it ever could be, and as beautiful as any dream revived.

Still, with realism on my brain my eyes will nevertheless scan the horizon endlessly, seeking and finding beauty in others and moments, my eyes the highway through which this joy will enter my body, and my chest tight and contracted as I squeeze the emptiness it leaves inside me. Like a smell that never satisfies but leaves me inhaling more and more deeply, trying to swallow through my lungs the unsubstantial air it floats upon, I cannot feel completed by the joy that is so present and intangible.

I don't have time for such fantasies. I have jobs and work and the life I love. My brain says I'd rather be lost in my work than a whimsy.

But my heart, so cold and only now so slowly warming, begs to be allowed to love the fantasy and return the dreamer to her place in my body. The struggle, won by the winter even through the summer's swelter, begins a war that is being waged in the crevasses of my soul as the smell of approaching autumn wrinkles my brow. And I wish to be spared the heartache- to remain in my icy hermitage for a little longer, to freeze calmly through another winter and emerge rational at the summer even as I long to dream and love with abandon again.

I'm not ready for the happiness that explodes out of you so fast it hurts

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Courage

Today I am in love.

I am in love with nobody in particular, and with everything simultaneously.

I am in love with the blue sky where it meets the green treetops and the hot sun marring my skin with freckles and moles.

I am in love with the lake and the waves and hot sand even as it stings my feet.

I am in love with a future which will never materialize and a past which is not what I remember it as. I am in love with a present that is spiraling around me like some maze I do not understand and cannot escape.

I am in love with the things I hate, and I'm in love with the things I most fear.


Today I am afraid. 

I am afraid because I am vulnerable.

Struggling against the escape of my hopes for so long, the walls weaken as I melt in the summer sun. I should have stayed locked inside, and kept my heart safe and cold and iced. But now it pools in my chest and seeps from my ribs.

It hurts to hope  because I will be crushed. Since October I have dashed my dreams before they were allowed to exist. Now, this August, they have snuck into existence.

Today I cannot contain my optimism and enthusiasm.

Today I am in love with my thoughts that float in the clouds and keep me looking up.

Today, I am destined to be thrown to the ground, eyes glued to the pavement, because today I dared to love my life with the excitement of a younger Christine who once loved before she thought.

Today my heart already aches even as it rises up to chase the dreams that have been hiding in the sky I have been avoiding with my eyes.

Today I am in love with things I know will never love me back.

Today I am brave, because today I opened my heart even though it already aches with the wanting that will never be sated.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Christine's Guide to Choreographing in a Recession



In the last month I’ve been talking to several friends who are finding themselves trying muddle through the waters of choreographing with limited studio time. As an independent choreographer, I am very sympathetic. It took me a long time to master the art of efficiency, and now that I have found my footing in time management (though I have many other ways to grow still) I want to share my findings!

I know that no artist wants to sit and have friend lecture them on how to hone their craft (it’s demeaning) so I created this post to express how I have learned to make art on a budget. I encourage you to take what you want from it, but these are the guidelines I follow as an independent freelancer.

These guidelines are simply the ways I have found to be efficient when creating a concert dance work 3-8 minutes in length. My own aesthetic values and preferences will come into play, but mainly I have simply focused on time management in rehearsal.

1.    Have a goal and WRITE IT DOWN

Holding in my hand a tangible object that is telling me what I want to express keeps me on task. I don’t just think of a goal and let it guide me. I write it down and force myself to stay focused. If my goal morphs- I delete and rewrite. I keep in mind that the longer the goal the longer my dance will need to be. I usually use a sentence-length goal for a piece 5-8 minutes in length.

2.      Come prepared

Before I get in the studio with any of the dancers, I start in the studio alone.
a.      I generate anywhere from 1-3 minutes of material (for a 5-8 minute dance). I videotape or write down the phrases I come up with so they won’t elude me when I get to the studio.
b.      I plan a structure. I may not exactly stick to it but I know approximately where I am trying to go with my piece.
c.      I plan what I need to do with the dancers that I cannot do alone. Generating lifts, intertwining phrases, juxtaposing different tempos….I plan in advance WHAT I will do in each rehearsal. I may change track in rehearsal, or find a better way, but I always have a to-do list.
d.      I plan too much. I always aim to have extra material. I don’t like to get caught without anything planned. Sometimes I have to think on the spot. But I always come over-prepared so I can move on if we’re working quickly, or skip a section if I need more distance from it.

3.      Don’t be afraid to erase.

It’s hard for me to do, but I try not to worry about what the dancers are thinking, or if they spent 15 minutes wrecking their bodies for a lift that isn’t pleasing me. Change is good. If something needs to go- I cut it. It’s better to make big edits early on rather than later once choreographer and dancers are accustomed to the movement. The dancers will ultimately prefer being a part of a dance that is coherent.

4.      The power of video

When you only have an hour a week with busy, overworked dancers, reviewing the material can take half of a rehearsal. I always videotape at the end of each rehearsal. Providing the dancers with a copy of this video via a private You Tube link or email link means that they have no excuse to come to rehearsal without first reviewing. Even just brushing up their memories on the train watching on a smart phone can help jog memories of details. I don’t always do this in my rehearsals but the director of Renegade Dance Architects introduced me to this way of helping dancers review before rehearsal and as a dancer I believe it’s genius!  As a choreographer, however, I always watch the rehearsal video at home. This way I can get space and distance and really sit down and think about what I want to do with the material already generated without the pressure of wasting valuable studio time while I think on the spot. It allows me to make more fully realized decisions about the choreography and the piece as a whole.

5.      FINISH THE DANCE

Even if it’s not perfect, I finish the damn dance! Cleaning the dancers can be done once I’m totally happy with the structure and feel. If I spend too much time editing and cleaning early on it will feel frustrating and scary if I need to delete a section or make major changes once the piece is completed. I ensure the dancers are comfortable enough in the movement, and that it will ultimately look good on them, then I move on. I leave time to finesse the movement at the end, and even if I run out of time, my dancers are always professional enough to pull it together without much cleaning help from me.

6.      Leave time to edit and clean

Finishing the dance early provides me ample time to make changes. Sometimes these changes make ALL the difference in a dance. Small changes in tempo, intention, or a simple arm gesture can change the entire meaning of a section. I leave time to make these aesthetic changes- small edits can change a piece from good to phenomenal. Once I’m happy with the piece, I still have time to clean the dancers and give everyone time to get the finished work in their body.


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You may have noted, I try to avoid thinking on the spot. Some choreographers make great snap decisions, as do I at times, but sometimes I’m tired or distracted. My on-the-spot decisions may be less informed and less complete than a decision made at home watching a rehearsal video. The most important thing I do is plan for those days when my mind is sluggish, or overhyped.

I hope it comes across that I’m not claiming my choreography fits into your aesthetic value, or is interesting or unique. I have a lot to learn, but I want to share what I have learned so far. And hopefully anyone struggling with the challenges of making quality work in just a couple hours a week can take something from my discoveries. I truly believe that as a community we need to bond together to make better work and raise the quality of dance across the board to bring more people into our elusive world. And so, I hope that by sharing I am helping this process.