What's The Score?

Improvise.

Last week, nothing went as planned. It was a week of mishaps, things forgotten, cancellations, and miscommunications. Also at least one ruined pair of jeans in a laundry catastrophe, a broken but seemingly unnecessary car part, and the accidental flooding of a room of the house. Sigh. Not what I planned. Not how it was to go. 

I may have chosen to sink into a foul mood, to shake my fist at the sky, take it out on those around me, or generally grump and moan. But it wouldn't have done any good. Regardless of our hopes and best-laid plans, life follows no rule books or direct paths. It hands us what it has to hand us,regardless of our agendas or how inconvenient it may be. It forces us to improvise based on a score to which we may not be privy. 

So this week, instead of forcing my own intentions and will upon the world, I choose to listen, look, and ask. What is the score? What is life handing me? What are the turning points and opportunities? What is the tempo of this week? How might I play along?

There is only one dance to be danced at a time. Do it well.

Notes On A Recital

Dance.

From a list of things to do pinned to my dance bag:

cut hair ribbons (46)

iron skirts (24)

move buttons

playlist (with notes)

bloomers and booty shorts

1 blue boa

schedule extra rehearsal

dolls finale

prep dance camp

staff list

get sets from storage

find other shoe

take aspirin

eat food

Sometimes It Happens Like This

Shot.

You work a piece with your dancers for two years, polishing, editing, crafting, training.

You take it to a belly dance festival in Seattle. They kill it.

You submit the video to a local collaborative arts event. They like it. But you are a late application, they are out of individual time slots. Would you be willing to dance with the headliners instead? Medium Troy?

Yes. Of course.

Oh, and they will ask RJD2 if he's into having dancers for a song.

Okay.

You have two weeks. You reset the piece to Medium Troys Balkan Ballers. You do not know if you will dance with RJD2 and if you do, you will find out at the last minute.

That's fine, you say. We are tribal belly dancers. We do synchronized group improvisation. We are trained to be flexible, you say. We can dance to anything.

You remind your dancers they can dance to anything. You make them practice to random RJD2 songs. You tell them not to stress, to work the dance and their technique. It may not even happen. Focus on Medium Troy. You stress for them.

Day of show. Hours go by. Still no word. It was a long shot anyway you tell yourself. The show starts, Medium Troy is about to take the stage, they should have other things on their minds. But Jojo, the mastermind of this huge event, taps you on the should. He has been in make it happen mode all day.

Ruby, this is Ramble John. This is Ruby and her belly dancers. He shakes my hand and leans around me to peer at my dancers who all stand up straighter behind me, in full costume. Looks us over for a minute. Yeah, okay, he says, let me think about the set. He is taking a huge chance on us.

Twenty minutes later, he is playing his set through in his head next to me while I wait to go onstage with Medium Troy. He says, okay, you know The Horror? Not by name I say. But we have 40 minutes and its on my ipod, we will by then. There will be no song breaks, and I know that live, RJD2 sounds totally different than in recording, everything is more complex, looser, and woven into the thing next to it.

We dance. The moment we leave the stage we run backstage, beg a speaker off a group of b-boys getting ready to hit the stage, and huddle around, listening. We gather, dance it once, dance it twice. Call it ready. This is an improvisational form, I tell them. Expect the unexpected. This is what we do.

Half an hour later we are onstage with RJD2. He is in the tail end of an amazing set. At some point we turn to face him. He smiles at us.

This is what we do.

Medium Troy's Balkan Ballers
 https://soundcloud.com/mediumtroy/balkan-ballers

RJD2's The Horror
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=abeUTN9OB8I&feature=kp

Red Moon Rising:
www.rubygonewild.com

Wooly Bully

Dance.

I was recently hired by a large, multinational computer company to teach their programming staff the Wooly Bully for an in-house event. I had to Google it. What I discovered was that line dancing, in all it's varied forms, is still alive and well in South Korea. Especially in cafeterias. I have no real explanation for this but am inclined to relate it to the South Korean propensity for synchronized group exercise. The why is not what's important. It's the watching. Happy Monday:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7lWTtOatJ4

Shake It Baby

Cues.

Every spring Seattle hosts a three day belly dance festival called Cues and Tattoos. What makes this event special is it's emphasis on the role of improvisation in the belly dance form. There are many branches of American belly dance, each with an emphasis on a particular movement style or regional music and movements, but improvisation is a fundamental part of nearly every kind of belly dance being practiced in the United States. That being so, in recent years there has been a marked shift way from improvisation and towards set choreography. Not so at Cues and Tattoos. One of the requirements for participating in their performance showcase is that at least 50 percent of the performance be improvised, which is especially challenging for any group that wants to present something other than the well-known and easily recognized movements of American Tribal or International Tribal styles.

My solution,  to play with "weaving" choreography and improvisation, unconventional formations, and a little bit of impish playfulness. What I have to show for it is a deeply textured and seamless piece that is, in fact, different every time. Time to put it on the stage.

Photograph:
www.rubygonewild.com

Yes, And...

Improv.

The first rule of theatrical improvisation is "Yes, and." Meaning, in order to keep the action moving forward, to progress the story or develop the plot and characters, you have to say yes to what you are given, and add to it. That means that if the other person decides in the first moments of the scene that they are a frog even though you have been asked to improvise, say, a scene in a doctors office, you have to accept the fact that in your new world, there are frogs in doctors offices. In dance, we call this "saying yes to your choices" and "keep dancing". Not as lyrical or succinct, but the idea is the same. No amount of pre-planning or rehearsal can completely prepare you for whatever will happen on stage, in that moment your only course of action is to keep moving forward, pressing into the piece and the other performers, not away. To stop, or roadblock is the only sure way to fail.

I think that the same rule is useful when applied to life, which is, after all, really just a grand improvisation. So today, say "Yes, and..." to the things you are given and push forward into the scenes you play.

The Stuff Of Life

Things.

Scenes from a dance bag:

oranges
pointe shoes
duct tape
water
sparkles
safety pins
stitch kit
banana
leg warmers
notes
fleece pants
hair pins
toe pads
arnica

Photograph:
www.rubygonewild.com

The Work Of The Feet

Press.

There are days of quiet dance. Days when you tuck, solitary, into the studio to work and rework the floor like a worry stone. Days when the rain wraps around the windows and the light fades and it is you, the music, and the work of the feet. On these days I feel my feet spread, thick and swollen against the wood the previous days dances appearing like ghosts in my soles. I shift my weight, forward and back, and settle, dropping my weight between my legs. I bend my knees and move, pressing through the floor, my feet the only thing left to drive my body into movement against exhaustion and soreness. My mind interrupts me and I falter, losing the sequence. The music stops, but the rhythm of the rain beats on. My feet begin again.

Photograph
Sandhya Ramen, University of Oregon Spring Student Dance Concert 2009, Erinn Ernst choreography

The Dancing Truth

Work.

If you are a working, full-time, professional dancer these things will be true about your life. You will wake up sore. You will dance all day. You will go to bed sore. You will work seven days a week. You will take class, teach class, and be up to your elbows in projects. You will never stop having to take class. You will take on projects that go well. You will take on projects that go terribly awry. You will always worry that there will not be another project to take on. You will worry about your weight. You will memorize everything you do. You will get on stage and forget some of what you memorized. You will keep dancing anyway. You will never get sick enough to have to stay in bed. When you do get sick enough to not get out of bed, you will get out of bed. You will be alternately told that you are talented and gifted and that you have no talents or gifts. You will invest enormous amounts of time and money to train in what you do. You will get paid for little of what you do. People will tell you that it is okay that you do not get paid because you love what you do. People will also tell you that you are not really working because you love what you do. You will love what you do. You will still be working.

Growing Old, Gracefully

Dance.

For more than thirty years now I have danced. I have stepped to the barre to repeat the same exercises over and over again like a mantra, working the floor beneath me as a worry stone, over and over again. In my younger days I suffered, tormented by the mirror, self doubt, the pressures to be better, stronger, slimmer. Now, though my jumps are lower and my leg not quite so high, I find inside myself a centering and calm so crisp and clear that I turn more easily and perch for long periods in my balances. It is a trade off and an irony, it seems, that at just the moment we gain our grace we begin to lose our vigor. I, for one, am glad for it. What I have lost in youthful athleticism I have gained in presence and expression. I am no longer tormented, no longer concerned with rank or virtuosity. Now, I dance from the inside out and feel my soul stretch beyond the reaches of my fingers, grateful for the dance.

Photograph 

http://fresnobeehive.com/archives/1817

Paralyzing Fears

Doubt.

There are moments in course of our lives that feel like standing on the edge of a diving board. While the obvious is true, that the only real course of action is to move forward, fear, self loathing, and doubt can stick us in place. I see this in dancers, especially very young children, that have figured out the world's expectation of correctness and fear failing to the point of becoming unable to move.  They stand, motionless, rooted to the round beneath them, unable or willing to speak or interact in any way.  Adults, they quit.  They stop trying, they skip an activity, or they leave the class never to return.  From both groups I receive a lot of this plaintive cry, "This is hard for me."  I used to think that this was all about work ethic, that having to try, repeatedly, and the energy and commitment that required was deterrent enough.  Now I believe that is has more to do with fear than anything else.  Fear of failure, fear of looking stupid, fear of judgment, fear of not rising to the level of our own expectations or hopes, whatever the specific fear, the impacts on success can be devastating.

These days, I find myself at the edge of the diving board, toes curled over, looking into the water not even sure what it is exactly that I am afraid of, but peering into the water with apprehension. I wish for the adult in me to tell the small child that everything will be okay. I wish for the rational part of my brain to win the argument in a landslide. I stay at the edge of the board. And then this, a single line of text from my mother:

"Wherever you have dreamed of going I have camped there and left wood for you."

And I jump.

Like what you are reading?  Then support the Kickstarter for my book Girl Gone Wild- On Being a Woman in the Wilderness.  Thanks!

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1731666363/girl-gone-wild-a-guide-to-being-a-woman-outside?ref=city

Photograph Courtesy of:
http://www.123rf.com/photo_3906409_underwater-view-of-swimmers-on-diving-boards.html

Show Time

Ooh La La.

Ever wake up in the morning tired, puffy-faced and rough around the edges knowing that in eight hours you were going to have to conjure full showgirl to a crowded house?  Ever look in the mirror and think you looked just about as far from showgirl as is humanly possible?  No? Well, it goes something like this:

Ugh.  Swollen feet.  Distressing hair.  Cramping leg.  Bloated. Crawl to shower.  Make coffee.  Start building giant pile of teeny tiny articles of clothing.  Include odd arts and crafts bits, ribbon, feathers, paint as directed.  Do not weigh yourself or inspect yourself in front of the mirror in an attempt to not destroy self esteem or cause distress.  Try to touch my toes.  Fail.  More coffee.  These tights have a hole in the toe.  When was the call time? More coffee.  Must.  find.  Shoes.  Ignore both the part of my brain questioning why I am doing this and whether or not I will pull it off and the part that is telling me how important this is and how badly I want to do well.  Manage to touch toes.  Now tape them.  Why did I invite people?  Maybe I should run through it just one more time.... 

 At times I find there is some great distance between the realities of  life and the glare of the footlights.  At these times you have only one choice; sell it.

Watch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhjHBV20ZV4

And Now The Dancing Boys

Uru.

Tribal Fest 13 will stand in history as the year of the men.  Paige Lawrence and Frank Farinaro's (among many others) Uru Tribe became the first all-male belly dance troupe to perform at Tribal Fest, and they brought down the house.  This was not a one-off, and the performance was not ground breaking just because of the novelty of gender.  What Frank and all the other men of Tribal Fest are doing is defining a new and decidedly male aesthetic in an art form that has been centered around feminine beauty standards for over a hundred years.  That men are capable of the same isolation and fluidity of movement as their female counterparts is obvious, but what they brought to this years event was a masculine fierceness true to many tribal dance forms.  And it has been a long time coming.  The enthusiasm and support for these ground breaking dancers is a testament to the tribal belly dance community's commitment to embracing movers of all kinds and the concept of dance as a living, evolving form.  

In their own words:

 "Sisters, this is all your fault.  We are here because you have shown us the kindness, acceptance and encouragement we need to pursue this dance as a life path.  You are the ones who made us feel welcome, who taught us to find our own unique voices and we are here today sisters because we stand on your shoulders."

To Watch the Uru Tribe:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GnGY2qe8MdY

Like what you are reading?  Then support the Kickstarter for my book Girl Gone Wild- On Being a Woman in the Wilderness.  Thanks!

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1731666363/girl-gone-wild-a-guide-to-being-a-woman-outside?ref=city

Photograph Courtesy of:

Jeffe Weil

Tribal Fest is a registered trademark.

Carolena Nericcio

Belly.

An amazing interview with Carolena Nericcio, the inventor of synchronized group improvisation and the most important dance innovator of the early 21st century.  Carolena is the artistic director of Fat Chance Belly Dance, a professional belly dance troupe that has been performing for more than 25 years.  That Carolena chose belly dance for her innovations in dance making speaks to the modern resurgence of the folkloric form.     That modern concert dance still refuses to acknowledge this important and popular dance form mystifies me.  

Listen to Carolena discuss improvisation, call and response, and the making of a belly dancer.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=related&v=jvPAWwGq86A

Photograph Courtesy of:

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/fat%20chance%20belly%20dance

Hard and Steady

Work.

I have a hard time expressing to even those that know me well just how hard it is to dance and train day after day.  Typically, people are over-impressed when they first hear that you dance all day and treat you like an invalid, only to assume later that since you do it every day you must not be tired at all. Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.  From the archives of Life Magazine, "The Hard and Steady Work of Dancers"

http://life.time.com/culture/the-hard-steady-work-of-creating-beauty-ballet-dancers-rehearse-1936/?iid=lf|mostpop#14

Photograph Courtesy of:

http://www.dundee.ac.uk/archives/peto/petosample.htm

Rinse and Repeat

Timing.

Some dances are their own beasts.  They stay somehow just barely out of reach or shift so as to make you lose the grasp of one phrase just as you master some other.  This is especially true if they push against tempo or cycle rather than repeat.  Sometimes even a dance that you yourself have created can elude you in its particulars of timing and execution.  

And sometimes you find it.  Sometimes you simply set yourself comfortably into the movement, listen, wait, and find the timing.  

Donna Mejia, Midnight in the Studio:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Gr5FHDWVKw

Photograph Courtesy of:

http://www.artsbird.com/en/en_8/enwtyc_8/endance_8/

On Waiting and Watching (III)

Etiquette.

Most audiences of live performance understand the amount of time, talent, and hard work that goes into training for and producing a stage show. What audiences do not know is that backstage all of the performers are reminded that regardless of their hard work and dedication, regardless of how important this is to them personally, what it symbolizes in their life, what they are about to do is work, and it is not for them; it is for the audience.

As an audience member then, it is important to remember that those people are up there giving it all away to you, each and every one of you.

Some things to take into consideration, or, how to be an audience member:

1) Arrive on time.  This means that if the show begins at 2, get there at half past so that you have time to use the restroom and find your seat.

2) If you can turn it on, turn it off.  Yes, we can see the glow from your phone, the little yellow light on your camera, and the reflection of the screen in your glasses.  Yes, it is a distraction.  And yes, we would prefer for you to watch us without a screen between us.  Live performance is best captured in our memories.

3) If your child does not want to be there or simply cannot sit still or be quiet, leave, quickly.  Sorry.

4) Remember that large casts may have many friends and relatives in the audience, so maybe call that girl fat after you leave the theater in case you are sitting next to her mom.

5) Clap enthusiastically and throughout the performance.   

Edward Gorey Image Courtesy of:

http://favim.com/image/10112/

Watching Dance

Look.

It is remarkable what we miss when watching dance.  Some simple tips for dance audiences:

1.  Look at their feet.  In most forms of dance a lot of the work and technique is in the feet so make a point of looking down.

2.  Read the program notes.  Story lines, influences, history, imagery and motivation are all often articulated in program notes and can be important to understanding or relating to the work.

3. Appreciate the challenge of synchronicity.  Dancers often achieve amazing feats of sameness without notice of or recognition by the audience.  Being able to dance is one thing, being able to do it exactly like ten or twenty other people is a different story.  Appreciate the work of the corps de ballet as well as the soloists.

4. Listen.  Much of the work and mechanics of dance are revealed in the footfalls and breathing patterns of the dancers, if you are close enough, try to listen to the dancers as well as watch them.

Photograph Courtesy of:

http://www.selmarosner.com/radiocity.html

Thought of You

Pair.

Sometimes we dance alone, but most dances are for, with, or about another person.  Artist Ryan Woodward captured the nature of the dancing relationship in his animated short, Thought of You.  A video interlude:

Thought of You:

https://vimeo.com/14803194

Photo Courtesy of:

http://www.erte.com/graphic/pas.htm

All in the Family

Shine.

Every year the New York Musical Theater Festival chooses several new and promising musical theater teams and their productions to showcase in their summer festival.  This year, brothers John, Patrick, and Walter Kennedy are presenting their adaptation of the classic, Swiss Family Robinson.  It is a great idea.  Swiss Family Robinson is a story about values, hard work, and survival.  It is a classic escapist tale who's time has come to be renewed amid the clatter of a sinking economy, climate change worries, and the do it yourself movement.  That the team is brothers, that they originally wrote it over 30 years ago, and that they bring quality writing, musical composition, and choreography to an overlooked classic bodes well for the success of this production.

What I love about it the most is that Walter Kennedy, the productions choreographer, was a faculty member of my undergraduate dance program and a mentor.  I am tickled for him.  I think that spending the summer in New York with your brothers putting on a big show sounds like just about the most fun in the world.  I have the kind of respect and appreciation for him typical of long-standing instruction and I know enough of his curriculum vitae to be impressed with his career prior to education (he was a principle dancer for Bela Lewitzky) but, like any good instructor, he still seems to me so very very human.

There is nothing more exciting than watching a mentor or instructor work their craft outside of the classroom.  We forget, sometimes, that these people were also once students, that they worked, sweated, and hoped just like we do.  We also forget that that in most cases they were successful.  We see them now, older, maybe larger or more tired, or we do not see them at all, being so focused on our own study, and forget that they were once luminous, center stage, beaming into the spotlight.  We see glimpses of them in their prime, a lovely foot, a beautiful and effortless triple pirouette, a show poster with them suspended midair, glorious in their flight. We forget that they could return to that place again, that they are not yet done, that we have become a part of their craft, but they have more to do outside the studio.

Sometimes we forget just how very much we can learn from our instructors and sometimes their best best lessons are unintentional.  Go take class.

To see the Swiss Family Robinson Project:

https://www.facebook.com/SwissFamilyRobinsonMusical

New York Musical Theater Festival:

http://www.nymf.org/

Photograph from the original 1978 production by the "Brothers K", find it on their Facebook page.