Choreographic Residency: Week 7

I performed a new work at homeLA last week.  It was a huge learning experience as far as navigating the line between conversation and performance.  I will be sure to apply these skills to the performance at the Annenberg Community Beach House.  

The title of my work was Reverie, Regret; Revisited.  I added two words "reverie" and "regret" because I felt the original title "Revisited" was a copout  for a more meaningful name.  I like the prefix "re" because it applies to the meaning "again" or "backward," which lends itself to support my interest with memory.  

Reverie because I'm a dreamer, an American Dreamer.  I've mentioned before that I'm a first generation American and how my father has kept me conscious of how there are more opportunities in America.  More about my father later when I discuss what I did for Labor day...  

Regret because I am often apologetic for things I shouldn't be apologetic for.  I think it has to do with the pressure of pleasing others or striving for perfection.  Reverie and regret are two things I do often... 

As the audience walked up to the carport, the site I chose for my performance at homeLA: Larchmont on August 26, I asked spectators if they could help me build a wall with the cardboard boxes.  I then asked if they could remove boxes from the middle of the wall and add it on top, sort of like Jenga.  Then I asked them if they could fasten/secure the wall with masking tape.  What emerged was a community involved project where they were working together for a common goal.  

I have been playing with the idea of blurring the line between conversation and performance.  As people immersed themselves in the space, I engaged in conversation.  I felt comfortable to leave them when they began working together to build and fasten the wall.  I then went into the carport and began interacting with the contact microphones on the cardboard walls/floors.  I really enjoy the effect of looping, distorting, and echoing the sounds created by the movement vibrations on the cardboard. The amplification and alteration of these sounds creates a reconstruction of memory and experience.  I'm excited to further explore this at the beach house.

photos by Andrew Mandinach

A little bit of feedback I got from people was that it was short and I can take my time in moments...  I get it; I'm anxious.  I think every section in this dance could probably be 15 minutes in length -- there are 3 sections.  The entire work was about 20 minutes.  I was rushing because I was worried about people losing interest.  This is me trying to prevent regretting an experience.  I will take my time.  I must take my time.

I came across a preying mantis at a boutique a few weeks back.  It was on my shoulder, of all places.  The woman working there thought it was a pin, and when I looked down, I saw the mantis on my shoulder.  How it got there, I have no idea.  Somehow, it landed on me. It chose me.  I read up on it and when one comes across a preying mantis, it usually is a reminder to slow down and breathe.  I needed that.  In addition, I was gardening in my front yard last week and I was propagating some succulents, casually, and as I grabbed the plant, a preying mantis emerged onto my hand.  Omen.  I will take my time.  Breathe.