Glimmer

Did You Get a Lingo Lift?

This is a place to share your thoughts about being lifted up a hill. Post your comments below.

A Lifter Responds: Aaron Swartzman

Aaron’s 1st lift – Bonnie from Novia Scotia. One of those solid, salt of the earth oldler women whose general attitude is “why not?”. She gave me her weight easily, and looked up at the clouds when I asked her to. I felt some of my old techniques coming back. Also some new knowledge. I think of, Fight, Flight, Freeze, Friendly as ways of dealing with danger/discomfort. How can I move away from friendly (talk their ear off) toward deeper connections?

Aaron’s 2nd lift – Artsy guy from Vancouver. He closed his eyes and I felt comfortable with him. I want to keep pushing the edge in such situations and ride deeper, but it wasn’t clear how to do so. Image is so important. His look was artsy and open, so I wanted more than from Bonnie. We stopped periodically for him to give weight. At the top I turned him around and had him turn around to survey the journey.

Aaron’s 3rd lift – soccer player girl. I experimented with instructing her how to best give me her weight. It’s hard to make it easy for people to be lifted easily. She said it was like meditation. I felt her relax as we went, felt myself sink into a comfort with silence which allowed me to find more interesting things to say. I mentioned how the clouds looked like windblown sand. I ran her up the last leg of the hill.

Aaron’s 4th – another soccer player – gave me her weight and trust. Well, “I begin to feel the ache in my arms.” She closed her eyes and relaxed. I can feel how their athleticism helps their bodies respond to my touch. She asked me why we were doing this. I said that trust is hard to find in this world. She said it felt like massage,. I was happy that it felt at all. We truned at the top to watch her friend take the last few steps calmly and with closed eyes, a vision of beauty and repose amidst the hectic, urban scene. What is the next step when trust is marginally given. How can the project move forward pat that point? Flexing social muscles. Feeling the different relations, social and physical, the layers of trust, the potential for a shifted moment in the day, a genuine connection with a stranger.

5th – Mr. Bear’s Mistress (as she said her name was – assume it had to do with the stuffed bear riding on top of her back pack, face to the sky) turns my theory on its head. She has trouble giving me her weight, but trusts me deeply in telling me the story of how Mr. Bear was given to her by another patient in a mental institution. High social trust – low physical weight sharing (which may have required high levels of physical trust for her). I feel gratitude for her willingness to connect with a stranger, and gratitude to Mr. Bear for being a portal into her story.

A Lifter Responds: Ricki Mason

Maybe it’s just a little more summer….feels like more yes than no and more trust than resistance. As I get older I appreciate those interactions I wouldn’t have had if not for (fill in the bland) and there are many if not for the Lift.

Entering into this second round able to take the no’s less personally – I guess initially I was surprised anyone would say no, but today I feel surprised anyone would say yes! Those yeses lead to sweet traverses up the hill. The lady from Victoria who’s manner of small talk and polite sharing of her weight made me excited to hug my mom this afternoon. The dude who smoked a cigarette and never asked why. The college soccer team, who’s group dynamic made thm brave and willing and squashed the nerves of the skeptics in the group who may have been too cool (i.e. insecure) on their own. My arms feel tired from work that feels like really good work, art that is building something in the world, out of time and space that is more than time and space.

A Lifter Responds: Scott Davis

Rusty – Nervous – Initial sense of self-doubt. Jump into cold lake knowing I’ll be happy to have done it once I’ve done it.

The sales pitch returns after three or so flops. Mention: Art Project
Experiment
Funded by City (not seeking $)
We are Professionals

“Isn’t is hard? Aren’t you tired?” Aaron says in response, “It’s more work for the social muscles than the actual muscles.”

The four elderly women from Nova Scotia – completely gung ho. No hesitation in the “yes” – no question behind the eyes of “why?” or, “who are you?”. A perfect first lift to give with a risk taker who fell in love with the white forest of a cloud against the blue.

The firs to close his eyes. The girlfriend who felt incompetent – “I fell like I can’t walk.” The two sets of girl soccer players. Confident in their bodies. “yes sayers”. The eyes closed blissful ending for the soccer player Ricki pushed.

Humid. It is in fact hard work to push.

Sometimes I’m bored with my own questions. I want to feed interesting answers into them.

After the Lift

Falling up, falling down, delay landing
On the verge of saying “yes”.
His eyes glittered as his head tipped to the sky.
He sighed…Allowing assistance up, without the drop keeping, without the keys to the door, and there on his shoulders, the weight of the world , burning off like Seattle fog.

Lifters React: Haikus

Uphill push offer
Tourist shopper No! No!
Reluctant draggin’

Warm sunlight mist lift
Many shy smilers slowing
Please carry me up

Taken to the streets
Amidst yeses and some no’s
No uphill battle

No pushing allowed
What is considered public?
Privatization

I think I’m OK
That’s alright maybe next time
All those nay sayers

I’m a risk taker
It seems like a cool project
This is really hard.

Aaron's thoughts from saturday the 6th

It was a very Saturday type of day. Bustle and hustle and some drinking going on. I got a free hug from a stranger before I started, and thus fueled up set to videoing. Unfortunately, my hands got cold, I wasn't capturing things the way I had been the last time I videoed. Maybe, since more was happening I couldn't get simple shots, or maybe I wasn't committing to just one thing, and so never felt like I really captured the essence of a moment.

Regardless, I was happy to pass off the camera and get to LIFTing. Scott was there to bolster my confidence, and I felt how quickly something becomes boring once it becomes known. Its not that I was bored the whole time, certainly not, but a certain mystery and meaning is being drained out of me by the repetition. The stakes feel lower and most of the interactions fall into well catagorized types. Still, I got a girl up on my own. She was a little bit big, and I was proud of her trusting me with her weight. Satisfied by the fleshy, solid feeling of her back pressed into my hands.

After that first lift, things blurred for a while, lost in the shuffle. Then John came along. Like I said last time, I attract the talkers. A bright, joyous drunk Alaskan native veteran, John really gave me his weight, and his stories too. We danced/stumbled up the hill, i even carried him because he wanted to fly. We didn't make it all the way up the hill, and talked for perhaps 20 minutes leaned against a rail 3/4ths of the way up. He had a blue eyebrow from stitches, bad teeth, and a mischevious glint in his eyes. He was proud of his military service even though he had been dropped to the street upon his return, awards and all. I marvelled at his acceptance of that military time as a positive one when it seemed clear to me that it had wrecked his life, but then I realized that it has to be so. TO have your life ruined for something meaningless or even wrong is too painful, too crushing. In order to salvage some positivity, which John definitely has done, he needs to place value on his military service, needs to believe that it did the world some good.

Another thought that came out of my time with John is more directly connected to the project. I really enjoyed hanging with him, but at a certain time felt the need to return to the rest of the lift, and could feel that he didn't want me to go, could feel neediness or awkwardness. Is this how people who are LIFTed feel, exhilerated for a moment, and then distracted by how to get away smoothly? We are such social creatures, fearful of offending even new met strangers. Maybe that is why so many people rush past us, unwilling to engage at all, because once they have engaged even a little bit they feel obligated, once they know our story it is harder to ignore their compassion.

I also had someone push me up the hill, got to feel the awkwardness and difficulty in trusting with my weight. It was nice to see things from both sides, but I think it wasn't a truly reversed experience because I was still directing the interaction even as I was being pushed.

Last quick thought, I can feel our mark as we return to the same spot over time. More and more "locals" are interacting with us, I recognize more people, feel more a part of the landscape. It will be sad to leave that hill to its own devices.
aaron

Aaron's 3rd try's a charm

We arrive in the pouring rain, hail even, but it proves to be a good thing. People slow naturally at the corner to be under the cover of the awning before having a go at the hill and we are able to approach them naturally. Somehow the storminess proves a bonding experience, big drops on the face as we look up. I feel a force of nature as I push people up with the wind alive and pushing as well. I chaparone a few LIFTs with an umbrella, and as the updraft catches it I feel I could fly, so light is the feeling.

The rain stops, a sea change, blue sky and glorious, Scott manning the corner with easy perserverence, and all of us pushing up more people than any other day. He has a routine to it, basically the same line every time, and I realize that allows him to both save his creative energy for those who stop or slow down or ask why, and also avoid the emotional risk of investing in your approach to the stranger. He is good though, has a certain ease of a salesman, but fun. I try to take notes, augmenting my strengths with his.

My strength is the talkers. Guys like Hollis who come up, talking a mile a minute, do a little improv dance of their own and enter into a little verbal dance of stories and witticisms, and of course they always do it with me. Hollis described himself in three words at my asking. Aimless, mindless, directionless, Hollis, because its less. Like some strange advertisement. I enjoyed talking with him, hearing about his wandering ways. He likes to walk in parks and talk to strangers, I ask him if he does both at the same time much. All the while we are talking he is spilling salad oils from a plastic container, sloshing it around for emphasis as he talks. I ask him to post thoughts on the blog, because he has a philosophical bent, but he is nontechnological, doesn't fool with computers at all.

I really feel my confidence take off. What would once be traumatic if not unthinkable, today I take it in stride, asking strangers if they want a lift even if I am the lone soul on the corner. Confidence really is a drug. I start to understand the addiction of the 'yes' and the boredom of the ensuing interaction, but I try to keep probing on the way up, avoiding the small talk questions and sticking to trying to have a real and openning experience with a stranger. Feeling someones back open into my hands like an eloquent sentence about trust remains the most satisfying sensation in the project, but dancing and flying down the hill can be pretty exhilerating as well.

We met an art student who had seen the chalk remains of our other days but never seen us. It was cool to hear about his experience of the chalk only, the mystery and wonder of having these words that don't make sense when we the LIFTers aren't around. Helped me to see our impact in a broader way.

Lastly, I was exhausted when we ended, as usual, but in a different way. Elated, satisfied, physically more tired because I worked harder LIFTing more people, socially less drained because I had gotten more back from my interactions. It makes me think of the types of exhaustion. Currently I am experiencing the last electronic missive before bed, bleary eyed exhaustion. Tommorow it will be the up before its light with happy morning son, slightly uncoordinated body exhaustion.
aaron

Investment Bankers and Homeless Men - Scott's First Comments

I've never much enjoyed performing out in the public. Give me a theater with lights, costumes, a crack tech team, and a paying audience that has read the publicity and is invested in the show's success before even sitting down -- that's my kind of performance.

Foisting my art on the unsuspecting, uninitiated, and often uninterested public has often felt presumptious, egocentric, and downright embarrassing.

That's the predisposition I loaded into KT's car Wednesday afternoon as I went off to my first LIFT outing. And the weather reflected my internal state: dark, rainy, cold, and threatening a long winter.

But gosh darn it if I didn't end up having a great time. A memorable afternoon in the company of some of my favorite fellow-performers interacting with a hesitant but never ill-willed public. And the sun came out to remind me of the extraordinary beauty of our little city on the Sound.

For me the LIFT on Wednesday became a social experiment and the pervading question was: WHY DID YOU, PERSON X, SAY 'YES', WHEN THE MAJORITY OF THE PEOPLE OUT HERE SAY 'NO'? And the answers varied from 'Why not?' to 'I've got four hours to kill before my flight'. Not profound. At least not yet -- maybe I'll discover pofundity later. Some insight into human nature. I suspect that for some folks it was just easier to say 'yes' than to let us down...

I always thanked the yea-sayers for trusting me. I wonder if any of them recounted the story of being pushed up a hill to others in their lives later that day. Perhaps at a dinner table? Perhaps over a beer? Perhaps as they did the dishes? Will one or another of them remember, some future day when they are walking up a steep urban street, the odd LIFT they got on Wednesday?

I'll pursue the 'what made you say yes' line of inquiry during today's LIFT. And I hope to add a dance piece to the experiment (on the descent back down the hill). I also hope to focus more on the LIFT part of the participant's experience, rather than the pre-LIFT decision-making part.

Montage: The Ohio State couple -- his bright, mischievous eyes. Lynn in his orange jacket. The sidewalk philosopher who engaged with Aaron. George from the school. Susan from the school. The tall hanger-backer with intelligent eyes. Aaron crazy-leap dancing back down. The suit wearing investment bankers from the east coast with their sincere curiosity and playful willingness. And of course the dozens of nay-sayers: the 'I'm fines', the 'ha-ha-ha's', the duck arounders, the no thanksers, the 'maybe next timers', the 'talk about it for a long time but still say no-ers'.

A slice of the public -- the 'demos', the people in your neighborhood, the investment bankers and the homeless.

Aaron's thoughts from the 29th

Overcast and cold, I start with the video camera and am comforted by its lens. I am able to step back and see the experiment from a purely visual place, a place where rejection is often beautiful, where someone walking up the hill tells a story whether they are being "lifted" or not. I notice how much the way someone mounts a steep hill tells about them, the way they lean in to it, or limp to one side, or turn around and shuffle backwards, or pretend they are on flat ground.

I relenquish the camera after 15 minutes and am confronted once more by my fear of approaching strangers. I feel like a loner, hiding in dances and alleyways. I felt powerful in the role of watcher and recorder, I feel helpless in the role of generous soul. Still, we forge on, soldiers. I find myself alone at the bottom of the hill, daunted, promising myself to talk to the next stranger who comes my way and letting them pass time and again in silence. I trickle out a little dance to build confidence on the corner, and managee to get rejected a few times.

I move higher up the hill, trying for a 2nd effort technique of making sure people still don't want a lift now that they are starting to feel the hill in their legs. It doesn't yield any lifts, but does seem to change the timbre of their laughs.

Finally, after giving up on giving a lift and focusing on the various energies of the different parts of the hill, lo and behold, I give a lift, and from an unexpected demographic, a shy local man lets me push him the hill. Then, the wavelike structure of urban energy strikes and I am pushing another man up the hill, a friend of Juliets who is looking through binoculars on the way up and talking on his cel phone. Somehow he feels like a powerful success, I really feel his body learning to give me its weight. I feel at ease and spacious upon reaching the pinnacle. Since I prefer to leave on a roll rather than push my luck to the breaking point I call it a day.

Afterwords I notice that I am once again exhausted. This type of social interaction tires me out. Even though I have felt fear and rejection, the day does not feel bad to me. Starting by videoing has given me an outside lens to realize that whatever happens it contains the seeds of story and change. Even the fidgety awkwardness of waiting for someone to come along when my confidence is down is charged with energy and expectation. I am learning to put my reactions into movement more seamlessly.

The Lift - KT - Thundrous and Magical - Wednesday, October 3

Magical Day.
Perfect moments kept coming.
Parking spot RIGHT in front of our post - a FREE spot in the market - one of five free spots left in Seattle.
A thunderstorm complete with hail turning a corner 20 minuets later as the sun broke the sky wide open in reverse.
Scott brought "moving man" blue, one piece suits for he and Aaron to don. Five minuets later, Ricki showed up in her same, EXACT outfit (no, really, no one called her). Lisa T. brought her lightness of being into the mix.
I SWEAR everyone we asked said yes.
Scott literally CARRIED a small, Japanese woman up, baby style. If that weren't enough, a few minutes later I turned around to witness him carrying a homeless guy up on his BACK, arms threaded through arms, head thrown back. With his legs crossed and dangling, the man resembled Jesus on the cross, no way to get around it.
Lisa was relentless in her fabulous way. "No....lean back...no, REALLY lean back....we're just going to wait here until you honestly give me your weight. Don't you trust me? Come on, trust me..." She had people walking up leaning back so far they were virtually parallel with the ground. They went slow and she got their stories - their names.
We tried to get the UPS man to let us roll him up on his cart. He considered it....
Light, Laughter. So different than our first try. Thunderstorm to blue sky.

Saturday's Lift. Sept. 29th

I realized quickly that I needed to project benign confidence and sanity but everyone would read it as crazy anyway. I can group the people into most, some and a few. Most people gave me the laugh. The laugh says "you are crazy but i am polite so instead of saying 'get the fuck away from me', I'll just laugh. HaHaha.". Most people gave me this laugh as they tried to hurry away. Caught in their own polite no, they were trying to hurry UP a steep hill away from the person who was trying to help them up.
Some people said no, no thanks as they folded their eyebrows together. These people looked up the hill and at the sidewalk chalk and then unfolded their eyebrows slightly. These, some people, looked at me again and said "huh"? This process of rejection, folding, unfolding and questioning only took a few seconds, longer if they walked away and came back. When their eyebrows were back to normal, they would repeat the "huh?". I'd repeat my offer. They would say ok. I loved lifting these people because they had changed their minds. They took a few seconds to do decide to do something weirder than just crossing the street. They were enthusiastic about it which was very nice especially after getting the laugh several times in a row.
A few people said yes right away. I don't know why. I could not look at anyone and ascertain that they would agree without question. I can't say for sure which category I would be in but I would likely not have been in a few.
I don't remember how many people I pushed up the hill at Virginia Ave in the Pike Place Market. The rush for me was asking people with some thrill in the first push and the awkward goodbye. It has analogies in blind dates for sure. Somehow the rush of asking, rejection, or acceptance erased most of the actual lifts from my mind. I have three clear memories though.
1. One lift was a man who was part of a large family all standing at the bottom of the hill. They were some people. After the initial pause and about a three words of discussion, I ended pushing a man and his daughter (who rode in a the stroller) up the hill. I found that they were visiting from Vancouver, BC, were hoping to eat at the Cheesecake Factory and that I was so winded by the time we got to the top, I couldn't talk them out of going to the Cheesecake Factory. Instead I pretended to breath normally, thanked them and said goodbye. I also realized a couple of things that would continue to happen with every lift. First was that everything around me ceased to exist while I was pushing a person up the hill. And Second, no one really gave me their weight until half way up the hill. I imagine that this was when they got tired but I would like to believe that this is when they realized I am extremely strong but you can't tell because of my coat.
2. A young woman who had cool glasses and manicured fingernails, tipped in black polish, came by toward the end of our time. She accepted a lift easily falling into a few category. She was visiting from Northern California with her mother who was getting a lift from one of the other Lifters. This woman was not comfortable getting pushed. She wanted me to walk beside her instead. I was first inclined to keep pushing and show her that she would LOVE IT! But I did move from behind her to beside her and we had a nice chat about their visit. It was nice, I would have been a creep to insist on pushing.
3. I think my favorite guy was the one who really let me push him up the hill. We were opposite in every way. Going up, we mostly talked about our difference in size. Though over double my weight, it didn't deter him from leaning WAY into me from the beginning. Half way up, he lit a cigarette. Near the top he said he felt like he was walking on flat ground. He said that right after he leaned back a little further, spread his arms and yelled "I'M KING OF THE WORLD!". I was the Titanic, you know, before it sank when it was strong and mighty and full of breath. He was very gracious at the top. I was very happy to have had the privilege to give him a lift.

September 29th Lift, love B

Started out cold, weary and disenchanted. Just a few minutes standing there with Juliet, I was inspired all over again. I tuned in to her easy and open nature, redeveloping my own in time. Some favorite moments of the day.
1. "You know, I thought you were crazy down at the bottom, but this is really great!"
2. "Girl, I push YOU up the hill."

This is getting good.

Aaron's thoughts from the 27th

I shifted my agenda today. Broadened it to focus on engaging unapolagetically with the people and geography of the hill. I feel myself coming to know this little slice of the market, its pimps, business men, tourists, druggies, flower carriers, workers taking a smoke break, drinkers up at the Virginia Inn. Each group has their own energy and potential, but I feel too clumsy to fully milk those potentials. As I get to know the space better I come to see and feel its ebb and flow. It moves in waves of excitement and activity, one lift after the next for a buzzing cycle, and then dead and grey and seemingly over for good until the next rush of circumstance brings a sense of life to the place. It was the same way driving a cab. Some combination of my timing, and my shifting confidence and perception created an image of the city breathing in and out, filling up with energy and emptying out of it in bursts of varying length. When I think about it, improvisational dance is often the same; bursts of intensity and spans of reflection or even boredom as we follow our naural patterns of being.

Back to the lift I think of the highlights.
An awkward time sitting next to an old man on the driftwood bench half way up, unsure how to tap into the rich well of his experience. He shuffled off.

Dancing after pushing the exuberant large man up at a run. Translating the movement of his flesh across his back into luscious gyrations as I leaped and skittered my way back down, slashing my right arm with a feather I had found in its cuff.

Looking up the hill to see KT dancing, sad and poignant to my eyes, conveying a shared experience of struggle and half found release.

Helping a man with his cart even though at first he doesn't want help, I notice a scrawled sentence tucked into the chaos. It reads "He's at his limit." It touches me poignantly as coincidence often will do. An openness to the universe might be another way to call it, but how can I can convince people that it is worthwhile to have such an openess.

Watching what I assume to be a pimp and a prostitute arguing. He gets real agressive when Adam the photographer joins me, but we don't back down. They move off just before some bike cops arrive. Adam says he gets stuff like that all the time because of his big camera

Pushing the girl who gave me her full weight up at the end. I could have stepped back and lifted her into the air. I had her stop and she continued to give me her weight as she looked up at the sky. I must admit, such trust is sexy.

The exuberant large man and his entourage appearing time and again, almost like a reoccuring theme in a drug trip, each occurence more surreal than the last.

I struggle to put these moments into a larger framework and feel like we are making a mark. At the same time I hold on to these as moments of gratification withing a very difficult project. Without the joy and craft of movement to buttress my doubts, the project seems naked and open to question. When people ask why we are doing this I wish they would stop and really discuss whether it is worth doing because I am not sure, but they move on pretty quickly and it is all I can do to get out a line about openness to strangers or trying to shift the way you experience going up a hill. Carrying on seems like the most important thing. Its what seperates a momentary idea from its experienced execution, even though the reality never turns out like you expected.

heres to carrying on

aaron

Ricki's first Lift.

My first lift was a reverse lift. I asked this guy, who seemed a little more open than he was willing to admit, avoiding eye contact after our initial connection, and he said no, he can manage on his own. People don’t want to look needy or helpless in front of strangers! That would be vulnerable… So I asked him to push me up the hill. He accepted and began the lift without even breaking pace. Our conversation was sweet. He accepted a button at the top. He continued on his journey.

There’s so much “I think we’ll manage,” “I think we’re fine,” “I can make it on my own…” The thing about it is, that’s just not the point.

Here’s a one in 1000. I asked a young couple if they wanted a lift. Her face LIT UP. Just like that. Yes. Aaron pushed her and I escorted her gentleman friend, and they leaned right back: fearless, immediate, totally game.

How do I, a stranger on the street, get you to let your guard down? (Wow, that sentence still sounds aggressive. You should have seen my first draft. No wonder people are protective.) How do I create a little tiny universe around myself where you can trust that there’s no strings attached? We’ve taught each other to say no so well, how do we invite each other to say yes?

If I encountered The Lift, would I be a yes or a no? If I were alone, I bet I’d be a no. But if I was with another person -- really probably anyone, my girlfriend, the door guy from work, my mother, anyone – I would be a yes. Because I would want that person I was with to think I’m a yes, even though secretly I’m a no.

As I remember the people I encountered, I think, “I loved that guy who gave me a lift!” And that girl whos face lit up, I loved her! And I loved that woman who said no, so politely, her subtext blaring. (I’m going to be really really nice to you even though I really wish you weren’t talking to me right now.) And that guy with the group looking for Supergirl…well, how could I not love him? And it goes on.

Here’s to yes!

Ricki Mason

September 27th Musings. Love, bianca

Ricki was my first push. She gave me lots of weight which sent her head back towards my own. Good to shake that first anxiety around intimacy with a friend. After that, I waited. Long time. Finally, a man rounded the corner that met my eyes. Impatience had bred bravery in me and I met his gaze openly. I spoke my first 'fully heard sentence to stranger' to him. I confessed my desperation and he shrugged casually a generous yes. Later, I spoke to a man who said he walks up this hill every day at six o clock and has for the past decade. He let me walk him half way. My last lift was to a familiar face, Ian, who had come down especially for the project. After I pushed him up with my head, I began a solo. I felt shy up there in front of Virginia Inn diners, far away from the home base. The top is certainly a different and less experienced landscape.

The Lift - KT - 1st "Official" Day

1st “official” day but 3rd time at the market. Our chalk from almost one week ago was still faint on the sidewalk. We had Ricki with us this time and Ruth and Adam taking photographs. It was 5pm instead of noon and cloudy. I spent the day making buttons and sending emails re: the final day. Ruth made cards to give away and we sleuthed out a list of steep hills in Seattle. It was a big arts and crafts day.
I pushed a drunk guy up who gave almost no weight at first and toward the end did a funny, herky jerky stutter stop thing with me to try and psyche me out. It was a dance for sure. He smelled like alcohol and blew a kiss to me at the end, telling me I was cute. OK – there’s that experience.
Ricki was full on ballsey – B and Ricki made quite a team. Lots of soliciting – able to just go up to someone and ask. I watched in awe. There was Batgirl – a girl dressed in cape, boots and mask – walking around. Aaron tried to engage her and she declined. I wanted to see Batgirl get pushed up the hill.
Everyone says “that’s ok I can manage”.
I’m starting to see an archetype of woman repeat. The one who thinks she’s fat or is fat – doesn’t matter – who has her “don’t fuck with me” armor on. She will never let anyone push her up a hill.
Out of protection for myself, I gravitate to the “nice” person. Looks like me, I guess. White, healthy, educated looking – an easy target. I don’t want to engage with the meth head with spider web tattoos all over his neck. He walks the hill a lot. I gave the guy asking me for change a button. He took it but he didn’t want it. We were sharing the street with a group of 5 company co-workers who were on a treasure hunt today. They needed to find Batgirl. Oh, that’s why she’s dressed like that… Aaron and I ran/pushed them up the hill because they were in such a fripping hurry. It was good to feel that run rush. Aaron started a dance down the hill – effortlessly hopping from sidewalk to wall to sign post. I was inspired and danced too. B gave a solo at the top of the hill to her people and the three of us had the hill covered. I tried to talk to a middle aged, down and out African American worm and and she was having none of me. A fit, young couple LIT up to the offer – “YES!” they said, “we’d LOVE to have a lift!” (what?!). Aaron and B sent them up side by side. Aaron thought he could have literally picked her off the ground. So willing – they leaned back and were swept away.

The Lift - KT - 2nd Rehearsal Try Before the Main Event

Attempt #2. It should be noted at the moment I am barely getting out of bed. Given my funk, I was having some serious doubts about my availability for the old “Lift”. After our last attempt to push people up the hill at the market, Aaron suggested we dub the project “the rejection dance”. Um-really wasn’t looking forward to another journey down that road.

I have been learning about the limbic brain state, an embryologically older part of the brain developed to manage “fight” or “flight” chemicals. The more I learn, the more I realize our current score (without any warning, approach a stranger, put your hands on them and try to get them to let you help them) is putting people in their most limbic (reactive) state. Touch a stranger on the street? They will fight or flight – end of story. The current construction of the projects is doomed. Something major has to give for this project to continue. The level of psychic wear and tear on the dancers (me) is not tolerable (in even the strongest state) and besides, it just doesn’t work. So my newest thought is to get people out of a limbic state, into a curious, open mind.

Plan B
We gave ourselves a frame - a sandwich board offering free rides, a video camera, chalk drawings on the sidewalk- circles saying stand here for free ride. Immediately things changed. We weren’t scary anymore. More dopey or silly or interesting or lovely or whimsical or dumb. But not scary. It was better – how? More engaging with people – a window IN instead of a shutting down. I just feel better right now. Happier, hopeful, more connected to the world. Does that count? My feelings in the outcome?

A young, Japanese tourist woman asked me why? Why are you doing this? I said because it was nicer to have someone help you up the hill than do it alone. She shyly asked me to push her up the hill. By the end, her entire body weight was leaning back on me and she was looking up at the sky laughing and telling me the birds were flying overhead. She said, “I just got here and I love Seattle!” and predictably asked her friends to take a picture of us at the top.

From KT - The Lift - More Than I Bargained For

We had Robin Held and her partner, Alex, over for dinner the night before we left. Robin is the curator at the Frye Museum and I think she is electric and magnetic. Alex is an architect/visual artist and was fascinating to talk to. He is this year's Stranger's Genius in Visual Arts. Awesome - A Genius.

I was telling them about our day at the market and how intense it was. As I was talking, I was realizing that is WAS REALLY intense. Aaron, I thought you had a rough psychological time due to the rejection, fear, and being made into a person
you are NOT (scary, crazy, mean) by those you approached. Bianca, I felt you to be the calm presence of the day. It seemed you had the easiest time both inside and out - the most "success" and also the free-est time of just giving it a try and not feeling failures of many kinds. Although, I am sure it was difficult for you as well - I don't mean to imply that you weren't experiencing your own struggles.

My struggles became clearer as I was conveying the information to Robin, Alex and Kirby. It was certainly hard on a personal level. The rejection and fear associated with approaching a stranger. But the harder thing for me, I think, was more on an "art"level. I remember asking you both, "was this art?" sitting on the hill at the end of our trying. I am still asking that question - wondering how to approach this idea.

We seemed to come up with three possible directions:
1. just do it again - the same, simple way - maybe in a different location, maybe with more people, maybe exactly the same.
2. make a "dance" around it - people moving up and down the hill in various ways - slow, big, cool partnering ideas, etc. - and use that dance to both create context and make us "safer" from the energy that might come back our way.
3. make a "game" - around it - chalk on the floor, shirts that describe who we are, stickers or sayings to give out, stations and horses....a sort of "pin ball" experience for people to engage with and then get spit out at the top.

I am open to trying a bunch of things as research. Perhaps all of the above and even in various ways. But, honestly, option 2 and 3 both feel oddly like compromises to me. Ways to couch the experience in something more familiar - a way to make it safer and easier and even more "successful". And that word - "successful" - is the one I keep coming back to.

One of the things that seems so hard about the project is I DO want a CERTAIN kind of connection to be made - I want to control the experience - and I am, in my mind, thinking of this PARTICULAR kind of connection as a "successful" one. I want the person who we push up the hill to be sweetly transformed - to come out on the other side a changed person - thinking that humankind IS essentially good and they will look for the kindness of strangers now where ever they go. I am looking for an intimate exchange - a perfect moment.

It was painfully clear on Wednesday that by putting ourselves in an environment where we have almost NO control over the variables that it is simply not appropriate to think we can control the experience of the people we are coming into (or not) contact with. It is a flawed equation.

I am SURE we can improve our odds for the particular "success" by engaging in option 2 or 3. It will just make everything easier. People will be less afraid of us. Yet, I can't help but feel that by engaging in either option, I am moving away
from the HEART of the idea and into, simply, more familiar, "watered down" territory. Somehow it doesn't feel right. It
is as if the edge of the idea gets immediately less sharp, the second I think about surrounding the idea with a dog and pony show. And I start to wonder if it isn't the idea and/or outcome that needs to change, but rather the expectations around the experience
itself.

Although - I DO realize we have only tried the idea in one particular way for one hour - hardly enough data to know anything for sure. I DO think it is a good idea to try a few different things in a few different locations. I don't want to shut the research down.

Robin, Alex and Kirby thought (think) it is a dynamic project. Hearing this, of course, helps me. But they were the most interested in the variables of the experience - the secret nature of it - the "subversiveness" of the art imbedded into a rather strange one on one interaction.

Robin spoke of this Chinese artist and a project that he thought of as a "catalyst" project. He took 1001 Chinese people to a very small town in Germany for an art festival / show they had there every year (he was one of the invited artists to participate). There were only something like 1,500 people in the town to begin with. The 1001 Chinese people lived there for
100 days. They just imbedded themselves in this community. Basically, they DOUBLED the population of the town. And they weren't just a little different from the townspeople. They were TOTALLY different. They looked different, ate different food, spoke a totally different language, had a totally different culture and social code. This was the art for this man. Not the OUTCOME - he had no idea what the outcome would be. How could he? I mean, I guess he knew, very simply, he was going to shake things up a bit, but that was the extent of his outcome knowledge. He set the catalyst in play as his art and let the
outcome decide itself.

In so many ways, this kind of description feels closer to our project than the "set up a big container for it to live in and for the outcome to be more pointed" option. Perhaps it is a project about the attempt. Perhaps the art of it is what happens later - the conversations we have, the conversations (or not) that the people we connected with (or didn't) have. Maybe the project lies in us writing about our experiences after we have them - I am not sure.

I agree we are in need of some kind of "container" for the art part to manifest. But as of today, I wonder if that container lies in some kind of aftermath.

From Aaron: LIFTing towards liftoff

Shedding the technodoubts that cling to my computer eyes as I uncertainly navigate the realm of promises and dreams of world wide communication that is the internet, I bite a small bullet and begin writing my thoughts, hoping that they are not lost in some backwater of non accessability. The project is the LIFT, the challenge is formidable. Strangers are not comfortable being pushed up hills. How can this be changed? How can this project serve as a larger exploration of crossing the divide between strangers? How can these interactions result in people shedding their habitual eyes and seeing a moment transformed? How can this foster my growth as a dance artist and human? How can I avoid accumulating the scum of rejection as a man trying to touch strangers in public? How can I continue to be brave, compassionate and rigorous, both on the hill lifting and in the aftermath, reflecting, working the raw grapes of my experiences into understandable wine. I want this to mean something. I want it to take hold and instigate at the very least a conversation that would not otherwise have blossomed. I want people to at least notice their patterns of interaction on the street, even if they are not able to change them. I want some acceptance of strange kindness from strange dancers.

For now it is a time of questions for me, of explorations, flexibility, drawing boards and sticking with.

Last rehearsal I had my first "success," Pushing a drunk irishman up the hill to post alley where he could continue to enjoy himself at Kell's. We shook hands and I felt a soaring in my chest. Such a small thing, but so huge, to feel his openness to me, to feel that I had boosted his already high flying day a little higher, and to feel the heap of previous rejections and recoils from my hands melt a little bit into the past. This project is not what I imagined it would be. More personal somehow, harder, grittier, thicker into the tension between art and entertainment. It is reassuring though, to see that if we just stick with it, learning from our previous experiences no matter how hard they are, then we grow, and become more clear, and find new purpose in what we are doing. Its like an experiment with far too many variables to ever be scientific, and yet for the same reason vastly interesting, surprising and spawning of long chains of theories. May you nameless ones accompany us on our journey, and may we reach the crest breathless and renewed.
aaron

From Bianca: The Lift

On Sep 4, 2007, at 1:15AM, Bianca Cabrera wrote:


i couldn't make it to the gym today.... so i ran. I RAN. my car in the shop, my ipod in hand i ran to
to the body shop, still couldnt get my car so i ran home. on my block there was a girl. little like juliet. she had literally eleven grocery bags and she was trying as hard as she could to manage them . i stalled, i mean, i had been running, i wanted to go home a fix myself a cocktail for christ's sake but i stalled. i went over and told her "you know i didn't have time to really exercise today, how far are you going/ can i help?" she let me, about two blocks. but i think, after seeing me not mind so much, apology set in. Apology. I mean, i asked. she didn't flag me down. and yet, she felt the need to apologize to me.
she apologized for the weight.
i think of the lift and i think of how much weight there is that people apologize for. whether it is literal or whether it is us, apologizing for our art.
how do we bypass the apology?
what if they just let themselves enjoy the help?
what if we went out of the way, not for them but for ourselves?
what if the art wasn't out of the way?


i looked at my books and really, whatever.
people made art and didn't apologize. in fact, apology from the audience was never a factor.
i think for us, it is and so, we need to consider it.


we are on our own.(wheeeee!!!!!)


there is good, seen and unseen.
some of what we'll do is seen and loved,
some of what we'll do is seen and rejected. what if success is measured by whether we did it or not.
what if WE got something out of the failed attempts?
We only can control ourselves in any given situation. What if we stopped trying to choreograph people's responses?
I know it all sounds so naive or idealistic.
but, IT IS.
Why apologize for that.
she still let me carry her bags two blocks, two blocks more i went if i had'nt stalled.
i think we should pursue, document all exchanges. learn from all exchanges.
even if we are the only 'changes' we can document.


anyway, it is totally the middle of the night.




Bianca Cabrera
comtemporary dance artist
rock and roll animal

john/anna's reside/create first/last blogblog

john/anna's reside/create first/last blogblog
this has been brewing for, oh, about a month now. sorry if i reach 9.7 on the blahblah richter scale!

on artpatch, lingo and chac - thank you thank you thank you exclamation points at a bus passing.

on the space - wood is grain is good is gone is gold and smelly and dank and dear and floor and floor and floor and floor and cringing and crouching and resting and warm and how long it took long and longer to warm then did and was easy and warm, of course, and the room, the light, the leaking breath of yesterday, the churchlike aftershocks of deadless goth parades, the needle core accuracy of opening up the door within, the stupidity of rigidity and sleepless wanting for more time than did we could. truth be told, we were there in the inside (never left) and lost as much as we gained. and more, at least 60 pieces of us are hanging sideways there behind the unopened air for a later child to bear but we take home more than 60 and find balance in the closing up of that downlying time, that most moist regret, that jesusmell of rising up and up and up just by stopping and being there, in that spacious space, a liquid home for this thirsty pair of sneakers.

on rehearsing - great. fabulous. amazing work. fascinating explorations. generous unfolding of interest and development. unbelievable generosity in time. delicious dancing spread out and out and out. and yet, on one level, the question rears it's ugly head - why was it so HARD? not the rehearsing really, but life's constant barrage of boundaries and last minute explosions and supercharged challenges and inner bubbles bursting and... such a cliche really, but anna and i noticed rather quickly that when you/we get/got a lugubriously rich quantity of what you desperately want (space, time, support to do the work you REALLY want to do...) the rest of your world goes into double time to make ALL the issues that you face on a daily basis exponentially more demanding. just making in to rehearse sometimes became a keystone cops routine. why just yesterday, on our final day, we got up extra early so that we could arrive at the space early and have a great last rehearsal, only to get to the car and have our battery/electrical system go on the fritz. like so many times, laughing and crying were not so strange bedfellows. i guess it just drives home that thing of how making "art" puts you smack dab in the path of the wildest, most dangerous and feral creature on the planet - your self/Self/SELF! in dealing with the marauding ferocity of our inner kittens, we came to the conclusion that all of that crap/challenge/difficulty was really just part of the gift of this residency. that we were/are, in fact, just using this time to do the real work so that we can be strong enough to continue on into the rest of our lives with as much generosity and depth of exploration as we had during these four weeks. the art is, as always for us, just an artifact of that process - the "rehearsal" process. so now that it's over, we're ready to begin.

on the work - YAY!!!!!!!!!!! wowza bingbong and yabbadabbadoo. anna and i have remarked so often how amazing it has been to make work that is so true and so honest to ourselves that it doesn't even feel like work/art - something 'other.' we've both made quite a lot of stuff over the years, but this is probably the first time either one of us has felt so utterly at home in the material that is occurring. the chew on it sessions have been a great litmus test of this for us, where we've shown the rawest product of our investigations and still felt clear and interested and engaged, without any of the nagging questions or inner criticisms that so often haunt such occasions. the material that is coming through us feels like a multi-prismatic refraction of how we exist - both daily and on the deepest level. no difference really and, ironically, that has made all the difference. today was a funfest as we found a whole new GOAT to milk. came from anna's playful dancering of warming up while drinking kombucha (of course). i said "set" (a score we decided upon weeks ago but didn't use until TODAY - hah!) and it put us on a course of wacky hoedown dancing with two southern-cracked characters apparently not named jeb and milo. ah, the joy of creation. such a delicious balance to the wanderlust of challenges i babblementioned earlier. we danced a bit of 'GOAT' (also known as "Subgroup 17A") while playing with text, space and rhythm in the last chewonit session today. t'was fun and funky and forgotten and remembered and a great last guffawing gasp to the wacky world of this time at CHAC.

on with/in - the performance element of our residency. three performances over three weeks with a different 'cast' of dancers each week open to audience members. free tea. a clean world. so many cathedral-like audience eyes - invested, sleepy, wondrous, bored, a luminous list of unknown visions within each of them simultaneously unfolding as ACTION in our shared dancing/music-ing bodies. this action - the action of performing the research, of sharing the questions in kinesthetic ACTIVITY instead of words...always such a challenge to this verbal culture. each week offered many amazing images, from (five month old) Kaveh's FIRST solo in week one (replayed in the end by the whole cast), through the silence and stillness accompanying jeff's twilit guitar meanderings at the end of week two, to the gravity defying flight on Scott's shoulders with my eyes closed in week three. layers of presence in action. action as RESEARCH shared with the community without editing. in the midst of 80+ hours of rehearsal by ourselves in such a vast rehearsal space, these performances were like a kind of art/food for anna and me, inspiring us and rejuvenating our daily investigations. a deep and heartfelt THANK YOU to the performers and adventurous audience members who shared the precious warmth of these moments with us.

on the question of improvisational performance - after week 2's with/in performance, the inimitable tim summers asked what i think is an important question (paraphrased here) - if the performance is functioning also as research, why have an audience? great question. i spoke briefly about how anna and i deeply believe in the value of shared process and open artistic communication. and, in our view, how all action (not just performance) is a type of homeostatic research - act, tip, stabilize, repeat. and how we're interested in making/sharing art that reveals thinking/feeling/moving humans functioning at the height of their potential, sharing choice sharing interest, weight, space, confusion, joy, stretching and redefining the boundaries between known and unknown, basting and warming the heart and hearth of our sometimes lonely human journey. and not just the "height" of gross human function - kick high, turnturn, etc. (hallelujah that, but it's only one layer) - but the height of the fullness of human function. we think a lot about all the layers in existence, and we're incredibly interested in showing/explicating/revealing the intrinsic VALUE of every layer...in the work, the art, in the ongoing moment of moving, seeing, listening, touching, performing, teaching, exploring, discovering, making, breaking, and on and on. the current model for mainstream performance tends to show a pretty thin crust on a much meatier bread. in my aesthetic world, (aka - physiological reality) there is a niagara falls of processing happening in every living moment. in this statement "process" functions as a code word for improvisation - something being made right now. from a neural perspective, your reading is the light energy entering your eyes transforming into electro-chemical energy that goes through layers upon layers of reciprocal processing to form, in the end, your conscious experience. TA-DA! however, it is incredibly important to note that just how consciousness occurs is still a MYSTERY to the scientific world. this strikes me as an incredibly juicy juxtaposition - process and mystery. improvisational performance uses that very juice as its fuel, and sharing THAT with an audience is about as interesting a project as i can find. well, that and sewing, but that's another story...

on lingo/inhabit - amazing. such a deep weaving of art and life. conflict and confluence abound - not quite unexpurgated, but brimming with juicy inner presence. and so deeply generous towards ALL the participants - from escorting the audience in, to the sharing of food, drink and conversation, through unbelievable physical to the unveiling of personal stories and investigations, to the yummiest communal nap i've ever taken. i feel just so grateful that such gorgeous it happened in our community. what a gift. thank you to kt, dustin, bianca, aaron, sarah, and all the artists involved for making this happen.

on residency partners mischa, violette, jessica, luke and kt - you have all become such important voices in our lives. thank you. we look forward to more and more.

ok.
that was clearly tooooo much.
and yet we're just getting started.

these words
the residency
love

john/anna

Jobaris' Inhabitation station

Finally, after weeks of Reside/Generate residency work, I get to see the creators of the residency do their "thang." I thought i would put the blog to use and share a few thoughts about my experience while in Inhabit.
Getting right down to it, there was something genuinely irrestible about the whole evening. You are greeted, taken inside, given a few perameters, or "boundaries," and then its as if you were thrown down the rabbit hole where cocktail hour meets racing track meets support group meets kindergarten meets celebration meets love! The room had begun to spin, as the lingo performers were not only conversing with us, they were having dance conversations with us. Afterwards, I was like a wee-little fiddlehead fern; I unfurled out of my inner shell, and onto the streets, to see even just walking with night had completely changed. Re-sensitized, both environmentally and internally. The best kind of art does this; changes your perspective, changes your internal state.
At distinct points, I wasn't even sure what the boundaries were (not that it was important anyway, I felt somehow safe with these performers) as far as touching the performers,or having them touch me, or following or refusing to follow their directions.....it was joyful chaos and the structure felt simultaneously held and unravelled. We were all there together losing our safety as witnesses, and gaining momentum as participants, or at least feeling as if we could. Whatever it was that held us back, or propelled us forward, that was something for us to look at in ourselves. Inhabit gave me a place to play with my cowardice, courage, and openness,not merely as an audience member, but also as a human being, how I am inhabiting the world outside the theater. Inhabiting with what intention, avarice or delight, at what is here and who I share it with?

Aaron 4 weeks in

Well, one more week to go and it has been a ride. This weekend not only did we perform, I also managed to check out the second Chew On it, which was brilliant and inspiring, I really felt all the performers openning up their process and selves to us.

Observations about INHABIT week 4. Much more social. I saw lots of folks talking to others who they didn't know, and also it seemed to take longer for people to figure out and tune in to the dancing as it trickled in to the space. That is one of my favorite moments, that shift of attention as seemingly simultaneusly 12 people look up and notice a duet in the space. I wonder if we are relaxing in some subtle way which is creating a more social quality to the space.

We also put into effect a simple communication technique to try and enable us to step into the moments that we might otherwise feel constrained to enter due to the agreement of the choreography. KTs blog talks about this a lot. I felt an increased relaxation from having this language as a prearranged element of the show even though it was not used much. We call it clarifications and simple revelations. Basically such things as, "I'm going to step out for a moment", "Are you going on?", "I'm ready now", "Are we late?". Just basic statements that primarilly allow us to understand where the others are at, but also a slight insight into the inner landscape of our thoughts.

Another change we made or talked about was in the space after the peice, the shifted social. I had been feeling awkward, waiting for people to congratulate me, feeling myself in an old post performance pattern that didn't interest me much. Others shared this sense (though not Dustin so much) so we talked about being a bit more proactive, seeking out people we felt connected with, asking more questions about memories and experiences rather than judgement or analysis. I really felt the difference. Not only did I have good conversations, I had more of them, because I had a way not only in but also out of them, heading off to search for the next person I was hoping to touch base with. Some thoughts/experiences that came up. Feeling like he was on drugs about half way through due to the richness of attention. Him noticing a peice of paper being passed, the shadow it cast on the wall and the dancer behind it all as one woven tapestry. Another guest having someone step in front of him and him just taking it as a cue to move to another spot in the room, a seemingly small but actually massive shift. Repeated movement as an opportunity to try on a new lens. The loveliness of lying down, the bird calls and lullaby. The increased participation felt when we went to our respective corners and worlds. Imagining what we are feeling as we lie on the floor, noticing there is space in the light for one more next to us. Looking at the other guests during the circle. Having certain moments of intimacy that really stood out for them personally.

Funny how quickly the memories fade and blur, its back to the boy for me now.

Thoughts from Vic Marks Conversation by KT 5/8/07

I had a great talk with Vic Marks on Sunday night after the show. What an inspired and inspiring artist she is. It was a privilege to perform for her and an even bigger privilege to nosh on the potential of the piece for two hours over dinner after the show.

I love Vic’s idea that choreography is simply a set of pre-arranged agreements. “When I do this, you do that. When I am here, you will be there.” Some agreements are weightier than others. If I dive in the air, my contract with the dancer catching me is wrapped up in serious physical need. These physical contracts are rarely broken in dance and even more rarely questioned. When injury is the potential end result of a missed connection, its relevance is obvious.

But there are slipperier spoken and unspoken agreements we make with one another. “You ALWAYS do that. Why not tonight? I expected it.” Things relating to timing, emotional connections, physical trajectories and the millions of unspoken moments that get imbedded in a work as it is made and performed. Choreography IS a set of pre-arranged agreements. Yet many of those agreements are subconscious and although they wind up BEING the choreography, they are often not the original intent.

At the end of INHABIT, we each give an individual guest a solo. These solos are the hardest part of the work for me. I usually sit next to someone with my eyes averted, and tell them how hard it is for me to deal with proximity, both with strangers and at times with someone close. Then I muse a bit – “why is this hard? What is it that makes being close to someone in physical or emotional space so vulnerable?” I was remarking on my feelings of failure surrounding this solo to Vic and she asked me to imagine the solo with me speaking my inner monologue into a mic. Still keep the honesty and intimacy of giving it to one person, but simultaneously open it up so all could be privy to the private moment. I think I want to try this.

This conversation led us down an interesting path. Thoughts came up around ways to let guests experience our inner dialogues in general and throughout the evening. Instead of trying to homogenize our pre-arranged agreements with the choreography as a quartet – which is my normal entry point into dance making – Vic made the suggestion to go further into our differences.

This idea would have to be done with care and communication, but I like it. It makes me think about the dialogues we have had in rehearsals over the past year. It has been a deeply collaborative process. As a result, the four of us have brought our agendas and passions to the table more strongly than before. And we don’t always agree. When we don’t agree, the general conversation that ensues is to search for compromise –to find a balance we can all live with. But because our positions are often quite impassioned, compromise usually winds up feeling like a loss to one or more of us.

In general, I think my rules around how to engage with choreography are very traditional and center around timing. Be where you said you were going to be when you said you were going to be there. So, if Dustin decides not to lie down in the square of light before Aaron’s solo, but sit in a different place in the room instead, I am thrown. If Aaron is having a space hold solo with a guest at the end that takes a longer time than “normal”, I am thrown. And so on.

Conversely, my guess is Aaron’s rules of engagement, for example, would be defined differently, if asked. I imagine the strengths and meaning in this work for him center around interactions he has with guests. Therefore, to leave a solo his is giving to an individual when it is going well doesn’t make sense to him. After all, isn’t that what the work is about? And I am curious about Dustin and Bianca. What are their unspoken agreements with the work? Actually, I am curious about us ALL defining and articulating what are agreements to the choreography are and noting where they line up and where they differ.

Then, Vic took it further. Like the KT/mic space hold solo idea, her suggestion was to use the choreography of INHABIT as a boat and see how far the ballast could tip before all hell broke loose – and do it with transparency.

This would mean going deeper into the moment that comes up where I am expecting the choreography to continue in time and another performer decides what they are engaged in should take precedence. To figure out a way to let each of us engage as we see fit and simultaneously let our inner thought processes be heard.

What would it be like if I stated my confusion and desire out loud – “Dustin, I need you to be here in this square right now” and for Dustin to respond “I know and I am going to stay here a bit longer”? It is dicey to imagine this happening in full scale. But it is also exciting. Exciting to imagine the choreography as a strong enough container to let the rules of engagement fray and still maintain the integrity of the work. Then, when there are only three dancers “on the mark” in a moment where there are “supposed” to be four, because one has decided to adhere to another, decidedly more pressing relationship, we could all handle it – perhaps made better by it.

Vic also had a thought about the toasts. I was telling her about Rob Balis and how he was imagining the piece encountering turbulence with a San Francisco audience the way it is currently structured. “It’s a proscenium work in the round, KT, and you’re also telling people it’s ‘interactive’ in some way. Seattle audiences are polite, but in San Francisco, if you say ‘interactive’, they will INTERACT with you guaranteed, and right now it doesn’t seem like the piece can handle that.” Hmm – I wonder about that – how much involvement to we want? Physically, verbally, spatially? And what is the point of the work. IS it a proscenium work in the round? Is it a container for more open communication?

Vic suggested using the first toast one night in Seattle to set the stage. Instead of toasting to “our habits”, toast to a night of exploration. Pointedly make an open invitation to the guests to “get as involved as they dare”. Make it known we are asking for a full throttle night of rule breaking and see how it plays out. Again, a thrilling, yet terrifying idea. I would like to try it – this weekend perhaps?

What is INHABIT about? What are the tenants of the choreography? What are the questions we are asking? About social interaction – about how and why we gather – about what we want out of our crossings with strangers and friends in our days. Is the face off circle about watching our duets in the middle or is it really about communing with the rest of the guests standing dutifully in the round. Noticing if they are tired or bored or engaged and having a moment where you make eye contact with someone and choose to sit down together? A private moment of understanding with a stranger. How delicious.

I like the idea of choreography being a set of pre-arranged agreements and I like using that idea to find more meaning, understanding chaos and clarity in our current artistic and social experiment.

Thank you, Vic.

John and Anna improv with/in session #2

To everyone including but not limited to John, Anna, Amelia, Sheri, Mark, Jason ...

I was absolutely charmed by your use of energy, mind, spirit and listening last night.
Your improvisation was revealing, hilarious, surprising, inspiring, odd, illuminating......
What can I say but really thank you. I aspire to hold the space the way you did and to be aware with/in each moment. Fo sho!
The source of action and stillness was interpreted so honestly, both collectively and individually.
I thank you for re-introducing me to the space.
It will not be the same when i re-enter today.

PS. If you are reading this, then go to the next improvisation Wednesday May 9th.
At the CHAC. New cast and some of the old. You'll be in great company.

Jessica waxing stock phrase residence metaphors, late in the monday night

This is a new sensation: To be bored of oneself and still want to get to the other side of that. Without overexaggerating, solo work is painful. Still, today, in a day of rest, I found myself aching to get back in the space. The residency or archealogical dig has me mouth wetted for more bones to spit on, dust off, and more ruins to claim. Ruins of the internal, extrememly heavy mummified beasts that guard the psyche, ruins of the psyche itself...
Partly serious/partly in jest, what could be more profound than running in a circle for hours to determine the necessity of simplicity in "dance?" Don't answer that (standing). Now if only i could take those hours of running and condense the experience into just three jogs in a circle, and give it a similar profundity, then hopefully a witness will see the work done for that very informed moment. Just one witness is enough. We are so accustomed to taking things for face value.
Beyond expectations of performer and audience, I'm happily employing the importance of teeth, reproductive organs, horses, children, native americans, Karen Finley, and a certain Monarch to assist me. My very own research team to dig with (In truth, this is not really a solo work). The images have made themselves known, the songs to accompany my reproductive organs will rise in this night, and my heart's hands are ready to weave. and rest. and repeat in infinite.
(photo: Luke Allen)

aarons thoughts on saturday

Well, we finally had a bigger show here at CHAC, close to 50 people and all the energy and excitement, opportunities and challenges that presents. Its funny how our thoughts shifted after a small first weekend when the word had not yet spread. We turned to thoughts of intimacy, dealing with smallness, and forgot our initial concerns of dealing with larger groups. Those came rushing back for me last night, and the concern I found to be the most serious was bringing people into the space. With a big line I felt a pressure to rush and a pressure to bring in larger groups of people. Both will probably be mitigated some by experience, but bringing in larger groups of people seems a larger concern. I like to have a moment of intimacy right upon arrival into the space, a sort of shedding of the everyday and donning of the cloak of potential for the night, a registering of the initial image of the space. Anyway, with more than 4 people it feels watered down to me, frantic, hampered by common denomonator mathematics as some people want a drink and others to hang up their coat. Perhaps I just need to get better at corralling everyone together.

Once everyone was in it felt great. 50 was a very watchable size. It didn't feel like people had to chase us around the space to see like happenned at the big show in Oberlin, but there was a complexity of formations to see in addition to us as performers. Also, I was able to interact with different people all the time, spreading the wealth as it were.

It is so exciting to me how my little glitter moments, the ones that stand out and feel special to me, are different every night. I had a playful solo in the preshow last night where a guest was interacting with me through the food cart, I had a nice bird duet with a woman in red shoes, it was constrained beautifully by her sitting on the floor. I felt acutely the presence of dancers, improvisers and friends, granting me support and pushing my expectations both. I had one unique jump that I almost would have forgotten if not for writing this. It was during a little duet with KT where she does set material and I improvise off of it but we meet up for bookends of set unison. I jumped up crossed my legs fast as I sometimes do and landed in a KTish bird crouch, very balanced, sticking it you might say, but since it was improv I hadn't been trying to stick it, I just landed in a way that encouraged me to freeze rather than keep flowing, and it was a delicious moment of marvel at unique moments.

Onwards towards tonights kid show, with my son Kaveh to be one of the babies in attendance. I can hardly wait and hope my focus is intact.

Power of Numbers

Last night (Friday April 27th), we gave an intimate performance to a small group of guests. This is the nature of 19 shows: a fluctuation in the number of guests. We've done this work with a group of 100. Last night we had 14. Justin, Olivia, and Oona; John and Dan; Stan and Marsha; Zoe and Paige; Kirby; Jenae and Andrea; Mathew and Jennifer. This is the beauty of intimate performance: I can actually know the guests, hold meaningful conversations, and connect.

Justin brought his daughter and niece because he had been to a CHAC Lower Level performance last month and became interested in seeing more live performances. Olivia is an Irish step dancer and Oona takes ballet. John worked with KT on one of her earlier pieces, Residue, but he hasn't seen her perform for close to 5 years. Mathew and Jennifer know KT from New York, where they all danced together. Kirby is KT's husband, and he makes amazing snacks for our shows. Paige and Zoe are friends and colleagues. Jenae knows Amii Legandre, a close friend of Lingo's. Stan and Marsha came representing 4 Culture. ***

Tonight, the number of guests will be at least double. How will things change? Shift? Develop? Every night is so unique, even though our "performance" as hosts is more or less set choreography.

*** I apologize for any misspelling of names or inaccurate details from guests. Such is the nature of a party where we learn each others names but don't spell them for each other. And how slippery the details of personality become after a few glasses of wine and a good night's rest...

aarons first blog

Ramping in to the second weekend, rehearsed yesterday and also did an improv performance with John, Anna, Alia, Kaveh, Peggy, jeff and Mark. It was a blast, what a joy to improv with my son. It was also powerful artistically as a way to shift the space, experience it in a new way. Hopefully that will lead to more spacious performance this weekend, a deeper awareness of potentials and a trust in the validity of our process regardless of how challenging it feels.

Regarding our rehearsal yesterday, which was all talking, it felt important to me, and in line with my desire to find a method for instigating conscious change. As our experiment continues to shed light on our aims, where they are being met and where they go slightly awry, we need agreed upon criterion to move forward with the new information. For me the idea of creating a whole has become paramount, perhaps streamlining the show, honing it towards its core tenets, images and movements. Having a defining vision so that we are not continually reacting to the emotions of our performances and coming up with stop gap measures to shift them, maintaining respect and compassion for our four seperate experiences of the piece while striving to forge them into one overarching exsperience for our myriad of guests.

Reactions to Inhabit

We hope you'll post your reactions to the show and your thoughts about art, community, and the way people interact with art and each other.

thoughts from the company about the first weekend run

Some thoughts after the first weekend run of INHABIT
How can we develop a formula in which we monitor our own performance over the course of the run?
What is ok and what is not ok in the realm of improvisation/change inside this specific choreography?
What defines “ok”?
What are the elements that relate to unchange: that hook us together, give us confidence and define this work?
What are the elements that relate to change and in the moment decision making?

Tenants of Deborah Hay
1. You are becoming or are already skilled at monitoring your own performance.
2. Integral to your experience of performance is an exclusive regard for the presence of your audience.
3. You are without fear of appearing foolish in your capacity to violate form in order to recognize where and why it exists.

Quote of Deborah Hay
I recognize my choreography when I see a dancer’s self-regulated transcendence of his/her choreographed body within a movement sequence that distinguishes one dance from another.

What is the wholeness of INHABIT?
Aaron - A day in the life – from waking up, arriving, the tasks of the day, a series of events going and taking us in different directions – all taking us closer to night, sleep, reflection and dream.
KT – A good party – from good energy / buzz, entering, eating, drinking, worrying, wondering, hoping, looking, gathering information, getting clearer, forming opinions, making choices, getting agitated, excited, shifting, slowing down, taking pause, reflecting, changing.
Bianca – How specificity can become universal. People and personalities move in both directions simultaneously – toward the universal and toward the individual. Shards of the four of us in a setting of “anybody”. The more we show ourselves in these different scenarios, the more ourselves transcend to the “anyone”. It is the lens we give.
Dustin – Shifting the way the guests views the work. Putting them in an environment that allows for self-reflection. We as hosts are able to admit who we are in all the funny, strong, difficult, beautiful ways we are. It allows the guests the permission to see that and take it back to themselves, giving a personal voyage for them. The anti-whole – if we were to do these as a series of solos onstage – it might be cathartic, but wouldn’t set up the correct environment for the guest to have an experience.


Questions relating to the first weekend
Do we put the space hold solos back in?
What changes to we make with a smaller audience?
If we shift our own solos – how can we be clear to the others as we make those shifts?
How do we create the potential for growth and discovery while staying true to the bones of the piece and the movement? That balance is essential and difficult.

The way we relate to movement
Dustin – If he is dancing with someone, it shifts the permission he feels in the movement. Looking for codified moments of unison – wants it to read as such. In unison, to the degree possible (we will always have our own spice) wants to look the same.
In the upside down material, he has the same desires but he feels more room. The patience of it. Us not having to do every single move at the same time. A different kind of unison. There is just pure facility – will never have the same shape as another – doesn’t see it as a negative. His flexibility (or lack there of) comes into more focus if he is trying to look exactly like another.
In solo – the clearest moment is when he give someone a note and does the solo re: to the note – that is when he feels the most permission re: his movement. It gets reigned in other places – standing solo or rock solos don’t really feel like solo to him. When he veers from the track he has beaten down, he looses more than he gains.
Aaron – happy with the movement – the strongest and most reliable part of the piece to him. Struggles with dynamic/sharp vs. sustainable/nourishing. Inhabiting in the body in a way that feels good. Question of individuality – there IS room for individual energies in the movement even though the movement is the same.
The way we relate to time / music
Dustin
I will rush instead of cut
I am distracted to the guests but want to be committed to the music
I will always go for the early end – I am ready to end before someone else does.
The number of people affects time. Less audience = perception of too slow and more audience = rush of time.
KT
I will always try to be with the music
I have a sharp sense of time that makes me not trust something being extended
I rarely indulge
I feel responsible for time and for the company in time and for that matter all the guests in time too.
Aaron
I have trouble listening to the music analytically
I feel torn because the music pushes us but on the other hand it rushes audience interaction and image.
Bianca
I don’t know the music.

The way we relate to space
The way we relate to each other
The way we relate to the guests
The way we relate to the philosophy