Today I hosted the first rehearsal of an ongoing creative process.
It was a bit of a big deal because I had two new collaborators come on board and the group hasn't been in the studio since the beginning of December (and I kind of a have a thing with momentum). The two new movers joined the group with complete trust, a wealth of energy and an open mind. Through my nattering and worrying, we still laughed and actually worked.
It's absolutely amazing that within only a few hours five people (and artists, uh ya it's different,) can get together and be shakily lead through a mishmash of physical concepts, imagery and elaborate metaphors to move closer and closer towards a similar goal. And in amoungst the actual work, the actual focused and thoughtful work, there is space for genuine fun.
I've been feeling insecure about leading...
I can't get rid of the idea that it's all about power.
Up to this point I have asked myself a lot of questions. I mean, I didn't blog for a year, what did you think I was doing? #talkingtoyourself
I was able to corner myself into asking four performers for their time, trust and voice in beginning to create something that I believe in more days than not. I have acknowledged that I completely understand and desire slow creation (and I swear this has nothing to do with slow culture at large). I desire a frequent time and space to work on concepts or ideas that have potential to lead to creating performance that will push performers and engage audiences. And I do, of course, hold the pressure of production over my head to continue to remember the goal and avoid getting lost in the research, but the concept of taking time has helped me to begin to find a new way of working.
There's an element of practise that I desire so much in dance.
There is the stereotype and practical need for dancers to be able to immediately ingest and regurgitate material. It's miraculous. From a mover's perspective I can see how this is a tool you would like to have in your arsenal. As a creator, I don't see the interest. I want to develop a work that I can't picture in my head. I want to make something beyond my body. I want to harness intention, risk, and narrative into movement that creates a language that needs to be learned. I want to create this language with other people and for us to become fluent in it. To develop a physical practise in our bodies that moves us from memorisation to knowing. To speaking. To sharing.
And it all sounds good until absolute fear hits you.
I'm afraid that I'm already to old for this. I'm afraid because I don't come from a rigorous ballet background. My fear is reinforced after writing application and application for money, and opportunities to show, learn, and reside are turned down. I'm afraid thanks to untrue stereotypes and misguided advice. I'm not afraid of doing it. I'm not afraid of my capability and I hold no fear of work. I want to try and I have so much gratitude for the performers who continue to give me their time and respect to explore with me.