notes about my show, from a letter to a friend...
i'm making a show. i've been working on it for a while. i mean. "working". i make dance theater in san francisco. which is kindof like swabbing the decks on the titanic sometimes, and i know this, but it's my job, and what else can i do but show up for work every day and heave?
there's a piece in my show called the tightrope walker.
it's one minute long, and it's a pretty girl doing a dance from stage right to stage left in a straight line, trying to find her balance. she dances in front of a huge projected image of the san francisco opera house after the 1906 earth quake, and old playbills. splendor in ruins beneath her feet.
it is a fun piece, and sweet, and kind of funny. the music sounds like a wind up toy, and the movement is a blend of mime, ballet, and bellydance. everytime she locks her hips into place her tutu snaps and bounces. it's a simple piece, but one of my favorites, because it's so familiar to how i live my life: step into uncertainty, catch, recover, step into uncertainty, catch, recover. find your footing, and enjoy a moment of being able to pull off incredible feats. step into uncertainty, catch, recover; leap into darkness, the end.
the show is a conversation between myself and the characters developed by Lewis Carroll in his "Wonderland" books - but it didn't start out that way. I started by making pieces about things that interested me - pigeons, fashion models, anorexia, sexual fetishes and abuse, disgruntled 20's single life in the city, time, deep ocean fish, anxiety, drugs, and, more then anything, people. their little universes and dramas and triumphs and desperate needs. my friends. people on the bus and the street and on tv.
as these pieces emerged a clear heroes journey emerged, but one more looking glass then odysseus; distinctly female, whimsical, bizaare, more a journey from outside to in and back again then the other way around.
i casually started referring to the characters in the scenes as "the queen of hearts", "the rabbit", "the caterpillar", and finally "alice", and the show grew up around itself, nearly faster then i could keep up.
bringing the characters of a familiar story on the flatbed of a classic narrative structure into my life and my city created it's own cool and captivating arc, that i have been trying to coax out of my dancers and collaborating artists and on to the stage through conversation, exploration, play, and improvisation for the past couple'a months.
we're getting somewhere.
at this point, the piece is a collaboration between myself and 15 dancers, who have been in rehearsals 6-9 hours a week for 2 months; 3 dedicated and talented local costuming artists/designers; one fine artist who is creating original paintings and drawings for the show (we will use enlarged prints in the show and auction the originals after the show is finished); an accordionist, a video/projection artist, and a host of set artists, crew members, and riggers, whom i haven't met yet (but am trusting are nearly here).
we're not a nonprofit. we've never gotten a grant. we've built all of our work on fundraisers, community involvement, and grassroots/peer networking support.
so now here we are, steeped in awesomeness and ready to rock...
i hope to see you in july for this one, man. it's gonna be a beast.
there's a piece in my show called the tightrope walker.
it's one minute long, and it's a pretty girl doing a dance from stage right to stage left in a straight line, trying to find her balance. she dances in front of a huge projected image of the san francisco opera house after the 1906 earth quake, and old playbills. splendor in ruins beneath her feet.
it is a fun piece, and sweet, and kind of funny. the music sounds like a wind up toy, and the movement is a blend of mime, ballet, and bellydance. everytime she locks her hips into place her tutu snaps and bounces. it's a simple piece, but one of my favorites, because it's so familiar to how i live my life: step into uncertainty, catch, recover, step into uncertainty, catch, recover. find your footing, and enjoy a moment of being able to pull off incredible feats. step into uncertainty, catch, recover; leap into darkness, the end.
the show is a conversation between myself and the characters developed by Lewis Carroll in his "Wonderland" books - but it didn't start out that way. I started by making pieces about things that interested me - pigeons, fashion models, anorexia, sexual fetishes and abuse, disgruntled 20's single life in the city, time, deep ocean fish, anxiety, drugs, and, more then anything, people. their little universes and dramas and triumphs and desperate needs. my friends. people on the bus and the street and on tv.
as these pieces emerged a clear heroes journey emerged, but one more looking glass then odysseus; distinctly female, whimsical, bizaare, more a journey from outside to in and back again then the other way around.
i casually started referring to the characters in the scenes as "the queen of hearts", "the rabbit", "the caterpillar", and finally "alice", and the show grew up around itself, nearly faster then i could keep up.
bringing the characters of a familiar story on the flatbed of a classic narrative structure into my life and my city created it's own cool and captivating arc, that i have been trying to coax out of my dancers and collaborating artists and on to the stage through conversation, exploration, play, and improvisation for the past couple'a months.
we're getting somewhere.
at this point, the piece is a collaboration between myself and 15 dancers, who have been in rehearsals 6-9 hours a week for 2 months; 3 dedicated and talented local costuming artists/designers; one fine artist who is creating original paintings and drawings for the show (we will use enlarged prints in the show and auction the originals after the show is finished); an accordionist, a video/projection artist, and a host of set artists, crew members, and riggers, whom i haven't met yet (but am trusting are nearly here).
we're not a nonprofit. we've never gotten a grant. we've built all of our work on fundraisers, community involvement, and grassroots/peer networking support.
so now here we are, steeped in awesomeness and ready to rock...
i hope to see you in july for this one, man. it's gonna be a beast.