Saturday the 24th:

Arriving to Bates a few days late, I felt that I had to hit the ground running but soon realized that running will not always get you to your destination and might just end up exhausting you. I can’t rush things and need to allow reflection to take its place in my process. Sharing will help too and I am hopeful that the showing tomorrow will give me the information needed to push through.

I find solo work to be particularly challenging, because it can be a lonely practice. I often end up prematurely judging the exploration at hand, wanting to fix it before it has a chance to be. Nevertheless, a solo is most certainly what I want to focus on during this residency. It is important to me to dance in my own work and I’m not comfortable placing myself in a group piece. Solo work is my chance to truly embody my process  and the pleasure of experiencing this physicality first hand cannot be matched. I remind myself of the agony of past beginnings and am assured that the process will gain momentum. Here at Bates, I am given precious time and resources to develop this work that I have wanted to make for a while now. With teaching and touring during the school year I have not succeeded in making it a priority. Here and now it is.

Deborah (Goffe) and I have talked about this shared loneliness and have decided to work in the same studio on Sunday, each with our own process but in the same space. Part of what is missing is simply another presence, which can offer support and a witness to the process. Witnessing from many perspectives so naturally happens in a group creation and I realize now that this is a big part of what I am craving. So, tomorrow I share and add witnesses to my process.

Tuesday the 27^th:

The last few days have been very productive and I feel that I have pushed through. The informal showing on Sunday night was a big part of that. Not only was it helpful for the feedback but also for the “mistakes” and the chance to just get the dance out of my head and into the space. I am working with projection for the first time and, yes; there is a learning curve. Dawn (Stoppiello) helped me set things up and I love that I can so easily have access to her whenever a question pops into my head.

The work is gaining momentum, I know that because ideas are rushing in and out of my head at all times of the day, especially when I am trying to sleep. I am thinking of adding another video and have begun working with four lovely dancers in order to add witnesses to the solo. Thanks Deborah (Goffe), Diana (Deaver), Meredith (Robinson), and Philip (Montana). Today, I invited Vic (Victoria Marks) into my rehearsal and was really excited about our conversation. I can’t wait to do this again. This process confirms that it is crucial for me to share while I am making, make then share, make again, share again.

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I have spent the past two weeks walking around the Bates College campus in a constant state of memory. This is my 6^th time here at the Festival with my Company and a HUGE body of work has been created in practically every studio venue. Possession (1994) was created in Chase Lounge, Momentary Order (1992) in Alumni, Castles (2003) in Muskie, Sacre (2003) in New Life, Tomorrow (1999) in Gannet, Polonaise (1999) in the Middle School, Mercury (1996) in Merrill.

Now I can add Chapters from a Broken Novel to that list.

Chapters began its creative life about a year ago at our annual Summer Intensive at Purchase College. In many ways, it has served as a conduit to explore all the different facets that intrigue me choreographically. I love creating dances that explore extremes: large and physical, minute and detailed, emotionally complex. Chapters is an opportunity for me to create an entire world of these dances under one cover. And the creative journey for the past year has been exactly what I needed as an artist; a way of delving into what I know, and ultimately finding new methods of exposing that.

Each of the 22 chapters is based on a short quotation or thought and each chapter has a title that is evocative of that quote. They range in length from 22 seconds to 7 minutes. Individually, most can stand on their own as separate dances and they were specifically made that way. When placed together, they have the potential to imply a narrative and for me this has been the truly thrilling aspect of the creation process.

This dance can be ANYTHING I want it to be.

How rare to make a work that can be accessed in a variety of ways and never lose its integrity. As a full evening length work, the dance runs approximately 80 minutes. It can be played with or without intermission. A 50-minute version can also be created that has fluid continuity to it; as well, a 30-minute version of selected Chapters can share the stage with other repertory works. Finally, many of these dances can be seen as separate units.

The past two weeks at Bates has been a great opportunity to hone the evening. I am continuing to make edits and give detail to each of the Chapters. I love this part of the process, as I generally work in outline for a majority of a creative process and wait until I am ready to craft the dance completely. More often than not, information later in the process defines ideas and motifs that I created earlier.

The days are long here but very inspiring, as always. I am teaching from 9-12:30 every day. Then I hop on my trusty Fuji bike and head off for a quick lunch. Rehearsals with the Company begin at 1:30 and end at 6pm. We are rehearsing in the gym at New Life, a Community Church down the road from the main campus. The space is incredibly generous and the creative vibe has been wonderful. Each day, we are visited by young children who have come to New Life to play at the Toy Library in the basement. I love watching their faces (and their parent’s) when they step into the room to watch the dance and dancers. There is an innocence and truth in people who are not regularly exposed to our lifestyle, and it reminds me daily of the unique role we play as artists.

We also get to play with Weekly, a year old Great Dane puppy that lives at the Center. He is the size of a small horse and has no idea he is that large. Lovely to watch him navigate.

My composer, David Van Teighem is still hard at work finishing up some notes I gave him this weekend. This has been an amazing collaboration and the dialogue of what is musically needed and when, has been a great learning lesson for me. The score he has written is incredibly diverse, each chapter sounding like a different world, and this has sent my imagination reeling.

As we head back into the studio tomorrow, there are at least three more sections that I want to strip away and clean out. Then we’ll show the work on Thursday evening.

More later.

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This past Saturday, I arrived here in Lewiston alone.  Relative isolation is an ongoing challenge as I choose to pursue my art-making in a small city. While I have found myself far less isolated in recent months, the responsibility of being chief cook and bottle washer in a city with few peers still requires that I go it alone quite a lot.  Since arriving at Bates, however, it has been refreshing to share space and time with a community of people who are both giving and receiving. I’m pleasantly surprised by how well my body is responding, and grateful for the thoughtful engagement provided through composition classes, discussions, lectures and performances.

Despite my gratitude for this amazing community I’ve been invited to infiltrate, I have chosen to face the emptiness of the studio alone here as well – a necessary evil. It’s been much needed medicine to return to the same room morning after morning, wait for the work to reveal itself in some small way … and then to listen for it in conversation or class or the fleeting thought caught in transit to and from the dining hall.

A promising Monday led to a seemingly unproductive Tuesday. Wednesday redeemed itself with improvisations caught on camera and divided into small clips. Thursday got me singing and dancing. There’s something’s due any day. I will know right away, soon as it shows.

The material I’m interested in making is still a little too close. I knew this would be the case. Only two weeks have passed since my Hartford-based dance company, Scapegoat Garden, performed the first incarnation of (re)Birth. Throughout the process of building that work, I have believed it could/should also have a life as a solo. Two weeks isn’t nearly enough time for me to gain adequate perspective … distance. But I’m choosing to process within a compressed timeframe, which has been an important theme all year. I don’t have attachments to this fast pace in the long term, but for now I am willing to put time to the test, meeting potential alone in the studio again this morning.

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