Been working with Tara O’Con and Siobhan Burke on a series of movement patterns. We have a work-in-progress showing on March 1 (7pm) at THROW, presented by The Chocolate Factory and curated by Sarah Maxfield. Come see us!
Carl Riehl is in Chicago doing this show. So for now, we’re left to our own devices for music. Enter metronome.
I have always thought about using one in rehearsal. It brings back early memories of piano practice. Mrs. Crenshaw (whose home-based biz always smelled like pot roast and dust) would test out my rhythmic agility with all these testy practice pieces. Generally, she’d interrupt with a “Uh-ah, go back.” And back I’d go, refining a rhythm sense.
So I often associate an uber-taskiness with the metronome. It corrects; it checks. Yet, beginning the choreographic process with this unrelenting device as the only sound source has not necessarily been about correcting. In this new context, it’s been part sanity, part madness. How, you ask? Well, when Tara and I began to disassemble head movement from our foot patterns, we were tripped out by our bodies’ ability to find fleeting patterns without having any way of describing how we were doing it. We began to talk as our bodies tripped — saying things like “how am I even doing this?” What the hell was happening? (To quote Tara’s answer — “This is your brain on dance.”)
Also, Tara, Siobhan and I once started clip clopping down the street to the ghost of the sound of the metronome’s 130 bpm clicking in our ears. That was awesome.
And the sanity part. It has been in the recognition of time increments passing and the ability of the body step into a rhythm and find gradual change. It’s something I’ve vaguely understood as a listener of the music minimalists – Steve Reich, Terry Reilly, Philip Glass, etc. – but not as a maker of dance.
**Note to self: beware the cliche waters of modern dance or rolling your head over and over and over again.**
So we find ourselves in this territory of emergent patterns (where many have traipsed) – in a rhythmic landscape of simplicity, sameness and change. I am both humbled and fascinated.
Filed under: Dance, Marketing, Media, Sound devices | Tags: arts marketing, Dance, Dave Charest, podcast, theater
A couple weeks ago, Cranor and I spoke with Dave about cross-genre collaboration and the way we’re approaching various technology (voiceover tracks, video, sound devices, etc). Listen to the podcast here.
Filed under: Dance, Literature, Music, Scripts, Sound devices | Tags: Dance, lovecraft, mozart, roy andersson, stieg larsson
For those who: 1) like the short version OR 2) enjoy or tolerate a non-sequitur synopsis.
Hello [ding]. I introduced the show, then showed you photos, three photos of a photo shoot. Then, off to a place called the egg, where we (Cranor and I) experienced crankiness, cut some of the script, and kept the story about Beth. We also did other things, like eat Mystic Pizza. This buff man demonstrated the cinch and pinch method for rope climbing. Then Cranor’s love for Roy Andersson ensued[enter Swede #1]. Then my love for Stieg Larsson ensued [enter Swede #2]. Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante in E flat, K364 played. It was sweet. I qualified my obsession with Larsson. Selfish. Then I danced [ding]. Bells. And more recently, Lovecraft made an appearance – by way of inspiration, by way of his story prompts – and Cranor wrote prose (not prose for our show), which, he doesn’t usually do, btw. Write literary prose, that is.
That is everything, so far.
Here’s a movement excerpt that was a seed for the solo show, performed at Danspace Project as a part of their Food for Thought showcase curated by Sarah Maxfield.
Here, bells act as restart and slow action buttons on the dance phrase. Fun to work with speed (from slo mo to casual tempo to hyper speed). This is one of task-based assignments that have to do with giving myself instructions to follow.