I am preparing to apply to the choreography MFA program at UCDavis and am starting to put my thoughts together about where I am with relating to the dance-choreography role/concept in my art work.

I recently was moved to tears by an issue of American Theater (the current issue is a must read). What made me a little weepy was just how familiar the questions being asked by playwrights felt - like they were kindred spirits toiling just on the other side of the disciplinary river (which is drying up by the way, but I've already mentioned that in previous entries).

After some pondering, I devised the following:

Both choreographers and playwrights are responsible for translating concepts into structures that will be used to create theatrical experience - creating material/processes that can be used in the process/rehearsal space.

It has to do with what human truths the artists chooses to translate.

Choreographers have traditionally explored physical truths. Playwrights have chosen to reveal truths of relationship, identity, and narrative.

I think the division at this point is arbitrary.

What do you think?
 
The Wild Men 07/28/2010
 
I'm starting to write a piece of fiction that gets at a lot of what I've wanted to write in my Experiential Geography handbook. For some reason I was getting stuck in the handbook genre. I don't really want to give people tasks to do in nature. I want to inspire them to experiment by flashing them with visions of new ways of interacting.

The story will thread together my research on the cultural history of "the wild men" - these archetypal characters that populate folk songs and folklore, a rough re-working of the story of Gilgamesh (as Gilgamesh had a friend-love who was half man half animal), and some research on communication networks in network (I'm thinking of mushrooms in particular). Essentially, the whole "wild men" conceit is just a cultural touchpoint to our biological truth - we are half animal and half "man" - the man part being our collective attempt to free ourselves from our biology (the push towards singularity, towards cyborg existence).

The Wild Men is also an epic queer love story. "What does that have to do with anything?", you might ask.

The more I think about, queer love can be seen as a gateway for exploring new ways of relating to other - whether that other be your same gender in a cultural context or a planet. In that case I think a queer love story can be an effective vehicle for carrying this story forward.
 
 
I would like to explore how we can fill FB, twitter and our asundry media channels with stories of non-violence, examples of generosity, and accounts of daily kindness? I believe  our media's propensity for recounting stories of violence and aggression is disproportionately recording a history that emphasizes only certain aspects of our human potential.

Let's tell the story of the world we want to be a part of.

Here's a site I found this morning that offers some interesting examples - http://tinyurl.com/32vwa8c
 
 
Experiencing this open, expansive creative environment reminds the transformative power of directness, honesty, and clarity.

There are many unknowns in the creative process, but there are also things that I can clearly articulate.

I know that I am audience-focussed. What will the audience experience? Why do they care? What will keep them interested in what is happening on stage?

I know that I hold a broad definition of where theater can happen, yet I believe that for each individual project the site of theater should be clearly defined.

I know that theater is inherently interdisciplinary when it comes to media, so as a field we can stop using that word amongst ourselves to describe our projects and save it for those lucky moments when we have the opportunity to work with colleagues who do something other than theater.

I know that stating what I know from moment to moment in my work and in my life gives you, the other to whom I communicate, the ability to orientate yourself to my ideas and engage in conversation.

Tomorrow, we take the script into the studio.
 
 
Deborah and I are diving deeper into experimental musical theater.

We are training our voices
We are singing abstract songs
We are developing character sketches based on aspects of our own personas as expressed in our working relationship
We are reading Studs Turkel
We are letting our thirst for honesty ripple through our work
We are developing a script. Not a score, mind you, but an honest to goodness script

Day 2 was productive and exhausting.

  

 
 
Deborah Black and I are participating as Artists in Residence at this year's SEEDS Festival at Earthdance (Plainfield, MA).

SEEDS stands for Somatic Experiments in Earth, Dance, and Science, and being ardent philologists, Deborah and I are stretching our brains figuring out just how we can tackle this rather large task during our one-week stay.

So far we have decided we would like to continue exploring how our active recalling of somatic memories of specific landscapes can be made visible by an audience. We are also pulling out all the stops, and allowing ourselves the freedom to draw freely from the three primary disciplines we have been training in - dance, theater, and singing.

We are committed to exploring the dynamics of our working relationship in the context of the emerging new American Musical Theater tradition.

Some points we are pondering:

- Is working in a state a form of blindness?
- Theater is about understanding humanity, even environmental theater.
- How can we test elements in our composition to determine if they are necessary?
- How do our gendered brains complement or clash

I look forward to sharing more soon!
 
San Francisco 07/08/2010
 
So, yes it has its provincial qualities.

And yes, I'm still completely shocked by the number of people (arts organizations in particular) not returning my e-mails and calls (hmmm...all out surfing?).

But sometimes, when I'm traveling through the city I encounter people who are so open, with eyes like a mountain stream, that I feel clarified just by interacting with them (liberation by osmosis).

That being said, I'm looking forward to see Brooklyn again tomorrow night!
 
 
For the past few years I've been in the midst of an artistic identity crisis.

I believe my story is not unique, so I’m sharing some of the highlights in the hopes of sparking a collective conversation --- what is a 21st century artist?

1. Producers and presenters have asked me for high-quality film documentation of my performance work throughout my entire career. This has led me to develop a film practice which has steadily improved alongside my performance work - am I a filmmaker?

2. I create performance work that can sometimes appear to be rather static, as it evolves very slowly over time. This highlights the materiality of my body (process art) and the composition of my relation to the space (in situ) - am I a performance artist?

3. My on-going creative collaboration with Deborah Black has openly involved the use of text, singing, character study, historical research, and narrative - am I a theater artist?

4. America lacks entrepreneurial arts managers working in contemporary performance. This is not their fault, the risks are high and returns paltry. I have managed my own career with the zeal of a used car salesman, including the management of my online media - am I a media artist?

5. I believe that dance is a piece of a larger theatrical picture, and that dance artists are always theater artists if they work within theatrical constructs. I’m not sure how others would define the cultural space that dance occupies - am I a dance artist?

6. I compose and perform the music used in most of my films and live performances - am I a musician?

These definitions are important because artists must present themselves in the terms being used b their culture. That is how they secure funding, differentiate their products from their colleagues, and critically analyze their work.

The theater is changing; blending with our lives in ways Aristotle never considered.

I am an American artist working in the emerging genre of  “total artwork”, and that is how I would like to present myself.

Can we work together to create new terminology for the modern artist?
 
 
Art Collectives 07/06/2010
 
After thinking about art cooperatives for the past few months, I wanted to share my thoughts and solicit feedback.

Here’s the deal.

I’m working on two larger projects that occupy distinct corners of the cultural sphere
#1 - The Somatic Natural History Archive (contemporary dance meets natural history)

#2 - The Wild Men (performance art meets queer Americana)

With both projects I am in dialogue with scores of individuals, yet in terms of other artists I have found I’m only in active conversation with a handful of colleagues who are also working in a similar vein. For instance, for #1, I am working in relation to Jennifer Monson, JoAnna Mendl Shaw, and the Body Cartography Project. When communicating my work to the general public, I guide people to these other projects for reference and am dedicated to seeing these projects succeed.

I’ve been wondering if an arts collective might meet some of our needs.

To kick off the idea I’m looking to build a portal site that will briefly introduce each project with links to each separate domain. This will essentially be a curated, one-stop shopping place to learn about the intersections of contemporary dance and the environment through the lens of four distinct projects.

I will run this by each of the participating artists (who may have zillions of reasons for nixing it, or suggestions for making it better), but I wanted to ask you, my dear blog readers....

What do you think?
Do arts collectives build value for individual artists, or do they confuse the public? 

Are their major pitfalls you’ve experienced or witnessed?
 
 
My good friend and historian Debra Cash has repeatedly reminded me of the importance of looking back to understand how to move forward consciously.

In making a home in San Francisco it has been brought to my attention that I have much to learn about the history of the LGBTQ community. I have taken on the task of educating myself, so that I can consciously contribute to a movement that I have thus far only passively participated in (a luxury of my generation).

I'm reading Radically Gay: Gay Liberation in the words of its founder by Harry Hay, edited by Will Roscoe.

What I find particularly compelling is Hay's assertion that the Gay and Lesbian community has the potential to use its unique position as a cultural minority to consciously contribute to society. In particular, it is refreshing to read how he stitched together historical accounts of Two-Spirit people in Native American tribes to offer a vision of a cultural role that Gays and Lesbians can perform, even going so far as to articulate how the community can create new economic potential.

A radical political thinker who came into his own in the American Communist Party, Hay issues a clear call to gays and lesbians to know themselves individually and collectively and convey that understanding clearly to the general public.