eight hours of creative time

isn't it interesting how what you put out in the universe comes back to you? after i finished TWWDTT last year, i found myself yearning for collaborative art.  i also got so curious about the impermanence of my art form.  live performance is there, in time, and then it's gone.  this is why we love it, of course.  but it also creates a bit of sadness for me -- we work so hard for so long on a project, and in four hours spread over two days, it's over.

so fast-forward to about six weeks ago: a friend called me up and said "i was given a certificate for eight consecutive hours of rehearsal space in manhattan.  do you want it?"

um, yes i do.

i decided to take this as a sign.  the vague project idea (a dance film?!) in my head suddenly had a start date: july 13th, 2013. 

more on the project itself later.  for now, stop and think about what EIGHT CONSECUTIVE HOURS in a dance studio means.  that's an incredible opportunity.  it's like going to the office for the day.  some of my dancers were out of town, so i had short rehearsals and ended up with a lot of time for myself.  alone.  in a big studio.  staring myself down in the mirror.

in the spirit of embracing things i fear, i'm sharing the experience with you.  i took notes, and i took almost an hour and a half of video footage. (which i conveniently edited down to a bite-size five minutes, don't worry.) i have to admit, i'm a little wary of the "artist showing the process" thing, because it can take away the mystery of the creative process and let an audience in before you want their input.  but i trust you.  and bear with me. this is not a finished product - this is an experiment to develop something new, and an exercise in sharing the thought processes that are the less-charming part of the artistic brain. here's what the day was like:

eight hours to create.
9:30am - I am on the C train. i want to go back to bed. "Resistance" is going for the kill. My body doesn't feel like moving. There seems to be an inordinate amount of that kind of resistance with this project.  It's always hard to know the difference between the kind of resistance that is helpful, guiding me steven pressfield - style towards the projects my soul needs... And the kind of resistance that means you're not supposed to be doing this, you're in over your head. Maybe thinking the latter type exists at all is a construct of the former type. 

I'm scared that this venue will kick me out because they'll see I'm a fraud, not deserving of nice rehearsal space. 

I'm scared that no one will give me any trouble but that I won't get anything productive done. Or anything innovative. Or anything worth showing to anyone. 

As of yesterday, all the ideas and music concepts and shots I wanted to put into this project seem suddenly flat and boring - and/or too logistically challenging. But I didn't think that last week. 

And there's no deadline. So I can take all the time I want! I wrote August as an initial deadline. But really for me the final cutoff is before I leave for the wedding. So let's say: this film is created, edited, and posted by September 15th 2013. 

9:45am - thinking through the phrases I want to create today (at the very least, a draft of them) - a gesture phrase for the recognition that your facade has broken. It's like when you run into someone on the street who you didn't expect to see in that context. Does that make everyone else uncomfortable like it does me? 

Sometimes in dance classes, when I surprise myself with what I can do... in a physical way that happens in dance, in yoga, during a workout, on a run. Sometimes it's the intangible feeling of energy during a thunderstorm, or after a really great conversation, or when I find myself doing or thinking something I wouldn't have dreamed possible 2, or 5, or 10 years ago.... That's the feeling of the second phrase.  It should be gooey. 

Logistics for today as well: 

-one more rehearsal or two to learn the second phrase 

-practice camera shots/plan out camera shots for whole film 

10:02am- I'm in! Intimidating entrance. It's right on 43rd street and there was this slim French girl smoking a cigarette outside.  I followed her in and on to the elevator with like seventeen other people.  We get out on the 8th floor, and everyone strides confidently past the reception desk while I'm all like high-pitched "hi there... i think i have a rehearsal booked????"  The girl at reception took pity on me and was super nice. 

I'm glad there's lots of furniture to move. Gives me a way to get started. I'm also glad it's just me for the first hour. 

10:36am- there's no way to play music in here. Interesting. 

10:54am- I wish I had some chocolate 

12:22pm- First dancer just left. Felt so great to move! And to try to articulate what I'm going for here. With varied success. She talked about control vs release. I think this piece is more about control (and lack of it) than I originally realized. 

12:36pm- I want to do this every day.  

12:55pm- watched the video while I scarfed a little lunch. There's some good stuff in there, so today isn't a total bust. 

I better do a second warmup so my body doesn't fall apart.  What up, central air. 

1:21pm- warm. And now nervous again. Now what?!? 

1:42pm- I have about 5 seconds of choreography that I like. I'm feeling scared. What if I get super bored?! I still want chocolate. I settled for water from their filter... it's not as satisfying. 

2:09pm- it's better when I'm warmer. Layered back up. Didn't Twyla Tharp say that too? 

2:39pm- almost 45 minutes of dance footage recorded. I'm taking that chocolate break.

and that was it until 6pm! no more notes, just video.  and as it turns out, after watching an hour of myself dancing (where most of the time i was like "wait, i don't remember doing that!!"), phrasework did appear.  here's some of the video.

untitled july 13 from jaema joy on Vimeo.