Improbable Partnering and Exceptional Physical Interactions
Final Paper
Cathy Saunders


May 10, 2005

First let me begin by sharing my reflections upon seeing “Heavy Train” in performance. I was stunned by my inability to evaluate whether this was a good piece of choreography or not. I was able to judge every other piece in the concert on both subjective and objective grounds. But seeing “Heavy Train”, I couldn’t see the piece before me. I saw each person’s evolution; I saw my classmates’ characters come to life; I saw missing pieces and vagaries brought into relief and clarity. I saw the dancers having fun rather than trudging through rote steps. I saw amazing successes as people did things that I knew they had never conceived possible 12 weeks prior. I saw success in how what I had perceived as weaknesses in several protagonists roles evolved into perfect fitting gloves. It made me proud. Their performances made me joyous. But I could not tell whether this was a good piece.

This class has been many journeys for me—physical, emotional, and intellectual. The intellectual journey has been a process of integrating my last eleven years of dance experience with the choreographic performance based element. Contact improvisation has been a place for me practice movement without consideration to what it looked like from the outside (sometimes this has been a relief, sometimes a challenge). I could see places that my CI experience contributed to the class, but was greatly aware of how much I had to grow in considering what I will call, for lack of a better term, the audience experience.

So what follows are some elements of structure that have come to my consciousness over the past semester.

Repetition
I’ve been thinking a lot about live performance vs. recorded performance. Our society has become so addicted to watching re-runs of everything—there is great comfort in the predictability. I am prey to this, too; I will watch a movie I’ve seen three times before I will go to a second live performance. I am reminded of a house I lived in where we watched Star Trek every night. It was a great game to turn the sound off and be the first one to identify the episode and plot. And yet while we would watch the same thing from exactly the same physical viewpoint (the camera), it is interesting to note that sometimes we would pick up something new.

In CI, the improvs are always forward moving. I was intrigued by the exercises we did where you had us stop and replay something. It provided for reflection and evolution.

There is also the repetition of a movement or a phrase. Referring back to Star Trek again, the viewer always knows, and eagerly anticipates, that somewhere in the episode Capt. Picard will say, “Make it so” with the little hand gesture. Likewise, I watched for the use of those movements in the concert performances—Kate shaking her head or the heart tapping in HT. And I recall Rachel in one of the last classes saying how fun it was to dance with each other because we know what to expect from each other’s styles. And there is joy in that—of course, Blanche will do something bold and dramatic and Topher will be expressive and curious. These small repetitions provide that comfort of familiarity within the choreography.

Two weeks ago, I was listening to “Shickele Mix” in the car, and Peter Shickele was talking about musical canons and forms of repetition—rounds, reoccurring themes, and following. This made me think about the role of flocking, and it was a lot of fun to watch “Swept” and notice where they were synchronized and where they were following. It made me re-think “Breakfast with You.” In the notes, you mentioned that the Leonard Cohen’s and Judy Collins’ voices were out of sync to represent disharmony. But perhaps that could be viewed not has dissonance but as one voice following the other, either seeking harmony or as one voice in devotion to the other.   

Perspective and Using the Space
Another thing that I am taking away is a better understanding that there are multiple ways to use space and that in live theater there are multiple physical viewpoints. I was intrigued watching the concert to see elements of things we had practiced in class about using the space in each of the pieces. I was very aware of the relationships of multiple things going on at once, and grappled with trying to understand how they complimented each other and how they are interdependent. In “Cedars Falling”, they filled the stage with just three people in duet and solo formation. In “16 Revolutions” there were four distinct areas of the stage carved out for different movement. “Dreamscapes” and “HT” had so much more going on. I could only focus on one part of the action or a soft focus overview, but was struck how the microcosm would not have been the same without the rest. In one part, I was totally wrapped up in a trio in “HT” that my only awareness of the chorus was not their movement, but their heaving stomping which had become part of the music of the trio.

My CI experience has given me an ability to listen and respond to movement that is happening both near to or far from me. Yet this idea of consciously using the space, considering how my movement would frame and support another’s action in this particular way is new. And right from the beginning of the class this was challenged for me. I loved the glass floor exercise—urging me to consider how I would move differently if I knew I was being viewed from this different vantage point.

What does it mean to be human?
I think dance is in large part an exploration of what it means to be human. And that I notice that a lot in your work.

The physical act of dancing engages the muscles, mind, and nervous system in activities that are outside of the limited daily experience—extending ones full range of capabilities. I think your choreography is a unique embodiment of that. On the first day after watching clips of your dances, I observed that your dances question where a dancer’s center of gravity is and what his or her limbs are. The movement in “Tin Man” is so incredibly unnatural, yet is done by a human. And what I love about this idea is that it is powerful for both the audience and the dancer.

Then there is the choreographic element—the story or the emotion. Dance gives us another medium through which to explore an idea or an emotion. The coaching in class deepened my awareness of how the physical self can yield an emotional response and vice-versa from an artistic perspective. I remember the day you stopped Morgan and one of the women in their tracks, and what emerged was a little duet about a mother and child. This class dared me to have a storyline to my dancing.

Partnering and interaction are innately human experiences, too. And I love taking from this into real life the idea of improbable partnering and exceptional interactions. Your choreography and instruction push us to expand what we think possible between two human beings and more importantly what we are willing to show (and act on) outside of our own minds. My friend Stacy said of “Heavy Train”: “It was like witnessing private movements between people when they don’t think they are being watched.” It was so interesting to me to watch all the rehearsals, but then see the performance come to life as each dancer became a full person shining through on stage. And then to see it two nights in a row, I could see how they brought themselves in the present and let unique moments happen. One of the most profound occasions for me as a dancer in the class, was when you and Shelly were coaching me and Heather. After the fact, I realized that I hadn’t been holding myself back for brief moments and I was able to have some encounters with Heather that I didn’t think I knew how to do.

Surprise
I saw Ira Glass from “This American Life” speak this spring. He said what makes a story is the element of surprise—the “aha” moment. Sure you can have and action and then another action, but it is the reflection upon the action that makes it interesting.

I had a lot of fun watching the concert with this in mind. There was a moment in “Swept”, where my friend and I both gasped unawarely because these humans gave the illusion, ever-so-briefly, of being unrestricted by gravity.  And even I was surprised to see Emmy erect and tall straddling Topher’s shoulder. Or in “16 revolutions” when Owen takes a second bite of cereal before finishing the first, it seems off schedule.

I notice, from the clips and HT, that the audience often laughs at the partnering lifts in your dances, yet I often don’t find them funny. However, laughter is a natural response to the unexpected. And laughter is an important emotional release in integrating new information.

I will take from this class the continual direction you gave us of considering doing something different at any given moment.

The Physical Journey
Well, I have gained a tremendous amount in terms of expanding my physical range in this class, which was nicely complimented by a one-day CI workshop for women I took in the winter. In general, I am finding that as I get older I am able to use my body in more ways than before. Yes, I’ve lost some things, but I’ve gained coordination and confidence. (In the last few years I’ve taken up jogging and social dancing—both things I would not have tried ten years ago).

The place I have grown physically the most is in the area of lifting. My limitations have in large part been due to sexism—other people’s and my own internalized version, which of course is a whole other paper. But as a consequence, I have had a lack of confidence in being lifted (which has improved as I’ve lost my fear of falling/heights) and I’ve never really learned the skills to be able to lift people in return. I loved the new ways of lifting that you introduced me to and the specific skills that you taught in this area. It was quite wonderful to realize that I could do everything in HT (with the exception of the somersaults, because I still haven’t figured out how to work around my neck issues).

I think in my future CI explorations, I will be a more enterprising dancer.

The Emotional Journey
I suppose I mentioned this in the opening so I can’t shy away from it. Frankly, the most significant thing that has happened for me in this class is opening up my awareness for the need for creativity in my life. As a young person dance was a critical form of self expression for me—I definitely was trying to say something. As an adult it has become more of a therapeutic way to connect with people and recognize my physical self, and my creativity was channeled into being an educator (which I am no longer). Watching you coach us and choreograph has been exhilarating. It has prompted me to engage my mind with this practice of my body and re-awakened my critical thinking skills as an observer of dance. So in the end this leads me to the question: what is next for me? In the immediate future, I’m looking forward to my first foray into African dance and working with some friends to create dance opportunities here in Providence that nourish us. I also plan to make attending dance productions more of a priority. In the long run—time will only tell.

In Conclusion
So was “Heavy Train” a good piece of dance? It told a story that was full of surprise and reflection. It challenged our view of physical and emotional relationships. It was clever and poignant. It used the space beautifully. It was full and forward moving, but had the comfort of becoming old friends with each of the characters. The answer would have to a resounding “yes!”
 
There is so much more I could say, but, mostly, I want to say “thank you” for sharing this gift with us—and being so inclusive.