Ways I SEE What I Am Looking At
For
the next six months or so, I will occasionally miss the views of New York City
with the comforts I take for granted in the familiar. And I will look for
comfort in discovering what will become familiar as I settle into living and
working in Mumbai. Here are some of my favorite shots of NYC. It’ll be
interesting to see what catches my eye in the months to come.
As
I’ve mentioned before, I have fairly easy access to Jacob’s Pillow Dance
Festival and tickets are slightly more affordable, should I choose to see a company
that might have come through NYC. (I am a firm believer in supporting dance and
theater by purchasing my own tickets when possible, even when I might have
access to professional consideration.) This past week ODC/Dance was performing.
I went to see them out of interest in their current work and as an alumnus of
the company. During my tenure with ODC, they had their first performances at
Jacob’s Pillow in 1992, where we also participated in one of the first
choreographic residencies initiated under Sam Miller’s directorship. (Sadly,
Sam passed away earlier this year, and a tree was planted on the grounds to
commemorate his contributions to the “Pillow” and the greater dance field.) I
think the residency was three weeks long, and I begrudgingly admit to having
never heard of the “Pillow” beforehand. It was also my introduction to the
legacy of Ted Shawn and Ruth St. Denis and their influences on what is known
today as American Modern Dance. Little could I have known that one day I would
own property, just a stone’s throw away.
Dawn and Dusk views of lower Manhattan |
It's easy to forget to look up, or to miss a 20 foot tall pop-up sculpture |
Brooklyn Bridge |
But
I digress… As I was watching the current dancers of ODC, I was reminded of
dancers who preceded, danced with, and followed me in the company, but were not
amongst those spectacular beings on stage, a kind of “déjà vu” of recognizing a
dancer I had never seen. This was not so much a physical resemblance, but more
of a reaction to seeing a dancer in motion (and occasionally in stillness). Idiosyncratic
movement is often the way you might identify a close friend or relation from the
back or at a great distance. However, I have mistakenly caught up to a
stranger, or misidentified someone on a video.
As
dancers, particularly from a generation that has had the privilege of film and
video footage to peruse of ourselves and others, we can often identify dancers
in very grainy or barely focused video by the way they move. Over the years, I
have discovered that those idiosyncrasies fall within a certain spectrum to
which choreographers and some artistic directors attach their casting and hiring
choices. At times, as is the prerogative of artistic choice, dancers may be
selected against “instinct”, yet this statement in and of itself is acknowledgement
that something defines the qualities in a dancer that attracts a movement artist.
I saw this at the Taylor Company as well. While looking at a dance archive video from before I joined, I could have sworn that I saw myself dancing. I
don’t think this was hubris, in the normal definition, as the qualities of
movement on which I was picking up in the grainy video, were not ones I wanted
to think was how I moved. Still, it got me to thinking about the subtleties of
convincing a choreographer, director, and an audience that a role once
originated by a very unique performer could carry the same impact with a very
different dancer. To clarify, I am in no way offended or meaning to offend with
this observation. We build our likes and dislikes and our aesthetics around
both conscious and subconscious reactions to the data fed to us by our senses.
People responsible for making artistic decisions are no different as they decide
and act upon their aesthetic preferences.
When I am staging dance, it is a daunting challenge to cast dancers that I have never met or watched perform. Usually I have at most a couple of days to make my choices based on watching the dancers in a technique class, and seeing how they respond to phrases I might use to help me make determinations. I feel fortunate that my "instincts" have generally given me results that I could only imagine at the outset.
In observing my own choreography and teaching, I realize that I have not always "seen" that which I am "looking" at, and as a result, I have not edited or offered feedback as judiciously as I might have done. And I guess this is true of trying to edit when choreographing on myself. The six dancers who helped me workshop choreographic material (see my post from August 10, 2018), also helped me "see" their own qualities as individuals. Hopefully I will keep this desire to "see" the dancers in India for their unique qualities, as I work with them as both teacher and possibly choreographer.
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