Trust The Process

 

Every choreographer has her own creative process. The variety of approaches fascinates me. I have worked with choreographers who come into the rehearsal space with a definite plan, with diagrams and extensive notes, and with choreographers who like to come into the space with only a feeling and see where that takes them. The Dance COLEctive’s Margi Cole is somewhere in between.  She always has a plan, whether she makes it known to the dancers or not, and she allows that plan to evolve and unfold in an organic way. Margi’s process often involves writing assignments, word lists for movement invention, and lots of rubbing material together, stripping it down and then piecing it back together again. 

Currently in rehearsal, we are reconstructing a piece the company did last year. We are creating some new material as well as relearning -- or in my case as a new member, learning --  old material. This is a new layer to the process for me, having never worked with a company that has a repertory of work to pull from. 

As a newbie, I’m relying heavily on the veteran dancers who know the material, and they are very helpful. They remember the material quickly and are able to help teach sections of the work that Margi wants to salvage from the original piece.  

We’re also using video to learn the piece. What a challenge! I get all turned around directionally when taking the movement from video and transferring it into the space. Which way are things facing? Which foot is doing what? Where are they in space?

Having been a dancer all my life, mimicking movement is like second nature. All this would come so naturally to me that I wouldn’t even think about it. But video is different: I have to keep rewinding the tape over and over and watching and re-watching even the most simple movements. And subtle things like where a movement initiated from remain a mystery.  

Just like learning movement from a dancer is a learned skill, so is learning from video. I have to keep reminding myself of that instead of putting myself down by thinking, “This shouldn’t be so hard!  What is wrong with me?!”. I need to put the movement perfectionist in me to rest.

It’s also important for me to remember that although we are re-staging an existing work, the work we are creating is new. There is a new cast of dancers, new stories and experiences influencing the work, and the finished product will be different.   I’m working on trusting the process, and on trusting myself. 

Submitted by TDC Apprentice Molly Kirkpatrick on Thursday, February 21, 2013.

Cryptic thoughts from an Artistic Director nearly in production week

Have you ever wondered what goes through the mind of an Artistic Director as they approach show week?  Well, here is a little insight.


I need more time! (Rinse and Repeat about 1,000 times)

Why did I think it was a good idea to choreograph and perform and say text live...

Must create next social media blast.

Creating the program is the bane of my existence.

This goes in the Monday pile.  This goes in the Tuesday pile...  and so on.

Oh yes, I must remember to thank them too!

Choreographer trunk. Everything you need for a rehearsal and more.

I must remember to do THAT and that and...

Thank goodness for these dancers and collaborators.  I could not do this without them.

A glass of wine later is gonna be really nice!  Really nice!

Just add it to the list...

Why didn't I get more feedback?

I wonder how pre-sales are going?

Emergency cliff bar.  Check!

What am I forgetting? 

Is anyone going to come to the show?

But seriously, even after nearly 17 years of making and producing dance with my company, the fear of being under prepared, the self doubt about my engagement with the work, the need to give myself a personal pep talk in all areas, is all still very real!  These are the same feelings I had in the first season of the company.  And while I may feel all of these things, I do know that my experiences have enabled me to be a better collaborator and leader.   I am better at gathering the right people around me to ensure integrity and success, even if I personally am still worried about whether I am a viable performer, creator and leader.

I will keep you posted on how things are going next week!  Stay tuned...

Submitted by TDC Artistic Director Margi Cole on Wednesday, January 9, 2013.

I began dancing, like many others, at the ripe old age of three

I began dancing, like many others, at the ripe old age of three. I began at a studio in Dixon, Illinois. I spent almost the next decade studying the basics and dipped into the world of competitive dance. Although I had a short run in competitions, I learned and saw things that would forever shape my dancing; awareness. Soon after I moved with my mom and sisters to Chicago where I began in a more classical curriculum in the city. It was a program that emphasized strict discipline and poise. So there I picked up a new essential in dance studies. I later studied dance in my Chicago High School program. There I witnessed and learned the depth of modern dance. I learned to watch and analyze dance in a literate manner. I attended Columbia College and majored in dance. There, I was enlightened. I found a purpose in dance. I discovered the art of dance. I did more than take class, I participated in dance discourse and  embodied a new texture through improvisation and release based techniques. I took one of my last required classes in my very last semester at Columbia. Margi taught the Repertory Performance Workshop. In the very first class, Margi reviewed with us three basic movement principles; walking, running and standing still. Those being things we learn in life many times before we even talk, this lesson was still profound to me. Because in dance, we forget how to just stand, just walk, and just run. When standing still, there is purpose and presence. Walking and running is human and powerful as just that. As a performer, this deeply resonated with me. She continued to the shape and refine our performances with both major and subtle notes. Not feeling completely quenched in just one semester, I registered for The Dance COLEctive's Summer Workshop so I could squeeze more out of Margi. Although I would miss most of my family's annual reunion, I went to the audition the Saturday after the workshop. Thankfully I did, because I graciously accepted the company's offer to apprentice in the 2009-2010 season. The following season I accepted a company member position. I have been ecstatically dancing with The Dance COLEctive ever since then.

Submitted by TDC Dancer Shannon McGuire-Edwards on Thursday, December 6, 2012.

Sidelined

So here we are.  After 7 years of dancing with TDC, the 4 years prior spent dancing in college, and the 14 years prior spent dancing in Greenwood, Indiana, it’s pretty self-evident that life has taken some serious turns, some of them unexpected but all of them fulfilling.

And now life has given me another unexpected turn and I find myself in yet another unfamiliar phase in my long-term relationship with dance: on the sidelines. Still at rehearsal, but not necessarily in rehearsal, witnessing the creative process instead of participating in it. It’s a fascinating and disconcerting position to be in. While watching my fellow dancers work, even now, only a month removed from creating material myself, I get lost in what they are doing and creating, watching them work as I would watch a dance concert, with enjoyment and a complete lack of understanding of how hard each dancer is working. Watching the process I was just recently a part of, it is remarkably startling how immediately lost that sense of work, frustration, and struggle is.

This year’s new work offers particular challenges in the way Margi has gone about structuring the creative process – structuring it as such that there is no structure as to what a dancer can do, but only addressing what they CANNOT.  Rather than having a list of qualities, actions, moments, to include, dancers only have a list of what they cannot do – navigating the movement invention period with each other through individual “blind spots” if you will. Again, fascinating to watch, particularly the movement, duets, and group phrases that have been created, but upon flopping down on the floor at 10pm, I see complete exhaustion on the dancers’ faces. Not just physical exhaustion, but mental – mentally drained and spent.

Regardless of how awkward and tense the dancers say they feel in these awkward and tense relationships they are creating, they are delving into areas of self and creativity that I have not yet been witness to in my time in TDC. In my observation, it’s not without some twinges of jealousy that I am not a part of this process with them, but then again, I would also be missing the bigger picture of creativity, instead, stuck in my own frustration and exhaustion at the process.

Which is better? Jury’s still out. I never anticipated myself just sitting on the sidelines in my dance career, but I must say throughout my life, it is those situations I least anticipated that I learned the most. 

Submitted by TDC Dancer Kaitlin Bishop on Monday, November 5, 2012. 

“It was great! But what did it mean? “

When it comes to a modern dance performance, whether it’s my own, a friend’s, a national or international company, 75% of the time, the above statement and question can be overheard in the lobby, usually said by one of my family members, but not always. Admittedly, sometimes those words escape my mouth. 

With my dance background and history in mind, a modern dance company in downtown Chicago is a bit of a far cry from where I started. Having grown up dancing in one of central Indiana’s primary studios, ballet, jazz, tap, and other such things were my specialties to the extent that I rarely actually thought about what I was doing, I could just do it. “Modern” dance was something in which people danced barefoot and flexed their feet a lot, which is another way of saying I knew absolutely NOTHING about modern dance. In high school, I knew my future lay in the dance field, not really knowing what or where that meant, but with dreams of LA or New York in my head, my parents were steadfast in their resolve: Kaitlin can do whatever she wants…..as long as she goes to college. Which led me to the Dance Center of Columbia College Chicago and four years of classes, rehearsals, performances, lectures, master classes and then some, attempting to grasp that ever elusive answer to the all pervasive question, “What does it mean?” After four years and a degree in Dance, more often than not, I was still that person in the lobby after the performance thinking to myself, “It was great. But what did it mean?”

Immediately after graduating, I was blessed to have the opportunity to audition for The Dance COLEctive, which I’d seen perform only once, but had participated in a number of student works wherein Margi Cole was the Faculty Advisor. I found her feedback and guidance in those times as challenging but engaging, requiring me to think critically, which was definitely something new for me. I was interested because I was scared and I knew I would be directly responsible for the work I would create, rather than learning someone else’s ideas. If there’s something to be said for only learning the choreography that comes from someone else’s body, even the most intricate and satisfying of movements, it grows to be boring. It becomes boring because it’s not my idea that inspires it, it’s not my choice that dictates it, and it’s not my mind that analyzes and molds it.

That’s the beautiful thing about modern dance and The Dance COLEctive. I get to make choices that are reflective of me. I’m IN the work. Not just performing it. Rather than counting off 5,6,7,8 and doing a series of steps in perfect unison with 10 other dancers, audiences are able to watch 10 people on stage, existing, in space. Making choices, interacting with each other, LIVING. That’s pretty cool, if you ask me. And it’s what keeps me coming back, year after year, watching and being a part of modern dance. My experiences in The Dance COLEctive continue to influence my values in dance, both as a dancer and an audience member, to the point that as time continues, I find myself, after performances, asking “What did it mean to me?”

Which is kind of the whole point of modern dance to begin with, I’m starting to realize. 

Submitted by TDC Dancer Kaitlin Bishop on Sunday, October 21, 2012.