Prepared, not premeditated

I have an opinion.
Ok, that hardly warrants an announcement. If you know me, which you do because I’m not trying to spam people with these emails, you know that I am rarely without an opinion. My reactions come in hot and often need to be expressed with some immediacy. I also like to be in charge – not bossing, just guiding/facilitating/holding the space—so leading a project, directing new work, that all tracks. Especially in a dominant culture that is still obsessed with asking artists to contort themselves to fit the trope male artistic genius.
But…I am not an artistic genius. I am a person. A female-identifying person. And, for all my personal preferences, one of my biggest opinions is that the best ideas emerge from dialogue and collaboration.
People talk a great game about collaboration right now. In job interviews, there’s often a question about how you navigate collaboration with others. When friends speak to me about their work and relationship woes, they often stem from difficulties in collaboration. Well, one difficulty really, a lack of interest or capacity for genuine engagement in what the other person/people have to share. Just like the work of attention, listening to understand takes a fair amount of effort. And, to do it well, we need to build trust over time so we can be vulnerable and open with feelings and ideas that are often forming-as-we-speak.
Choreographing a dance and bringing it to an audience requires some degree of collaboration. But there’s a spectrum: a director could treat the dancers, sound designer, costumer, lighting designer, production manager all as paid help to support the fruition of their artistic vision: hire their skill, deploy it, and reap the reward in the art. This feels like the baseline expectation in late-stage-capitalism. My opinion? It stinks.
It stinks because the underlying assumption is that the choreographer/director knows best. They are the genius in tune with the art and their ideas and instincts trump all. I’m being a bit overly simplistic and hyperbolic here. Obviously, most artists fall on a spectrum, accepting some input whether it’s from their partner, a long-time dancer, a valued board member, but the model of director-knows-best remains dominant. And for some work that may be best.
I am not arguing for a fully democratized creative process. That is a noble endeavor and an achievable one, but it also takes a lot of time and energy to get on the same page, a lot.
What’s worked for me in the past and continues to develop is a hybrid model. It’s my project: I make the plans and offer initial thoughts and suggestions. For between us and everyone here this meant seeding the original movement material, gathering the group, booking space, and scheduling time – oh and money.
But Amanda and Chrissy have done so much more than arrive in the room and learn moves. They have brought themselves fully: their frustrations, curiosity, enthusiasm, all their physical skill and in-the-midst, ever-evolving personhood show up at every rehearsal. And it is that generosity of self that allows us to uncover the heart of the work anew in every performance.  
To allow this kind of hyper-intimate, auto-phenomenological exploration to emerge, I’ve had to plan and then be ready for anything; trusting that the best way forward for the work is not to be found in solo-prep but in the discourse between the dancers, myself, and our two dramaturgs Verena and Surinder.
I write this and it sounds easy and obvious, just get out of the way and let the work happen. But that’s bullshit. It’s not about getting out of the way. It’s a delicate dance of guiding, listening and reflecting, and listening again and translating into an actionable step, facilitating the experiment, giving feedback, listening to the inside and outside takes, refining, trying again. It’s making a piece of art that could only emerge with the alchemy of people and experiences in the room.
The collaborative adventure, caring by listening, serious play and experimentation: this is what I hope audience members can experience during our performance. It is why the work must be permeable and transparent, prepared but not premeditated. I want you to join us on the journey, not just witness the final product.
It takes more effort this way. It can hurt to share something before we’re sure we know it’s just right. But, in my opinion, the world has plenty of polished, perfect-seeming products. What we need are more generous, open, sometimes messy in-betweens.

​