Even when you think you know where you're going, you really don't. You only know where you mean to go, or want to go.
Sometimes, it looks like a straight shot of road, right down to your destination, and then you crest a hill and shit! There's a curve there. You couldn't see it from where you started. You had to be halfway down the road before it stood out.
There's nothing wrong with a curve. That whole phrase about "It's the journey, not the destination?" Sure. I guess it all depends on what you consider your destination to be. I think it still helps to have a goal in mind. Eye on the prize. But I also think that when life throws you a curve, you bloody well look around and see what's hiding there. Even if what's there is hard or scary or too much or too big.
Edison said, "Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."
A lot of things look like work.
Does that means a lot of things are opportunities?
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Tempest's Teapot
If you don't already read Tempest's blog, you should. No, really. I don't care if you're not Goth/Orientale/Fusion. She's awesome and clever. Her most recent blog is about why (and how) you should think about your audience: http://darklydramatic.blogspot.com/2011/08/captive-audience-understanding.html
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Break It Down Now
I introduce you all to my new project: The dissection of ATS.
While I enjoy the simplicity of ATS on those who care to perform it sans "decoration", I have learned that the format doesn't entirely suit me. Neither, though, do I care to completely redesign the improv vocabulary I grew up with. Modifying the wheel-- rather than reinventing-- tends to be my style. I draw on my shoes and toss glitter on everything. "Can't leave well enough alone" is probably a good phrase here.
So this puts me in an interesting place. I get to examine each part of ATS and decide: Does it work for me? For my students? Do I like the look? Is there something similar that I can substitute?
This has already started happening. My students are taught, at the end of the choo-choo arc, to open their arms like a flower, rather than that swing-the-arms-overhead-and-down thing that FCBD does. We saw BlackSheep doing it and liked it better.
Another example of a soon-to-be-changed-in-my-format move is the "Arabic Drop Drop Drop."
The issue I kept having was twofold: 1, there's supposed to be 3 drops. Really it's more complicated than that, but in basic terms, you arabic (an undulation up in on yer toes) twice and then level down while dropping your chest 3 times. On the fourth beat you rise back up to standing. Lemme tell you, it's really hard to actually get 3 drops in 3 beats. It's also hard to chest drop when you're leveled down too far. Problem 2: Chest drops are pretty hard to begin with, especially for more inexperienced dancers or those with sizeable chests. As a result, they thrust their shoulders back and forth, which ain't graceful and ain't what the move is about.
So I hemmed and hawwed about this for a while-- maybe I should just drill it, maybe I should research it, blah blah. I went and found actual video of Fat Chance themselves actually doing it, and saw, Lo! Half the time they don't get the 3 drops in, either, especially when the song is fast. So it's not just me. It's the move. Watch here, at about 2:12 (after the arms come down-- that's the cue for the dropping):
So I decided, right then and there, that the Arabic Drop-Drop-Drop was getting the axe. Maybe not the whole move, but it's going to be trimmed or altered in some way so it's not such a pain in my ass.
Some people might get their britches in a bunch over my outright gutting of this dance form. That's fine. I could get twitchy at people who insist on wearing khakis and pastel polo shirts year-round, but I figure without people to hold the line, there's no way for me to toe (or cross, or dance atop) that line.
All the ATS vocabulary aside, this seems like a useful exercise for any dancer to do, especially if you've been taking classes/self-teaching and not questioning what you've been taught. Obviously dancing in a group situation (whether it's improv or a choreography) places certain limits on what you can change, but if you're a soloist or troupe leader, take some time to review what you do. Look in the mirror and see what you like. Something that looked great on your teacher might look crappy on you, unless you're her twin. My friend Amy Danielson (of The Gypsy Kiss) just posted a rather long article similar to this-- about questioning those things that are "right" in your mind. Link: http://www.paulgraham.com/say.html
While I enjoy the simplicity of ATS on those who care to perform it sans "decoration", I have learned that the format doesn't entirely suit me. Neither, though, do I care to completely redesign the improv vocabulary I grew up with. Modifying the wheel-- rather than reinventing-- tends to be my style. I draw on my shoes and toss glitter on everything. "Can't leave well enough alone" is probably a good phrase here.
So this puts me in an interesting place. I get to examine each part of ATS and decide: Does it work for me? For my students? Do I like the look? Is there something similar that I can substitute?
This has already started happening. My students are taught, at the end of the choo-choo arc, to open their arms like a flower, rather than that swing-the-arms-overhead-and-down thing that FCBD does. We saw BlackSheep doing it and liked it better.
Another example of a soon-to-be-changed-in-my-format move is the "Arabic Drop Drop Drop."
The issue I kept having was twofold: 1, there's supposed to be 3 drops. Really it's more complicated than that, but in basic terms, you arabic (an undulation up in on yer toes) twice and then level down while dropping your chest 3 times. On the fourth beat you rise back up to standing. Lemme tell you, it's really hard to actually get 3 drops in 3 beats. It's also hard to chest drop when you're leveled down too far. Problem 2: Chest drops are pretty hard to begin with, especially for more inexperienced dancers or those with sizeable chests. As a result, they thrust their shoulders back and forth, which ain't graceful and ain't what the move is about.
So I hemmed and hawwed about this for a while-- maybe I should just drill it, maybe I should research it, blah blah. I went and found actual video of Fat Chance themselves actually doing it, and saw, Lo! Half the time they don't get the 3 drops in, either, especially when the song is fast. So it's not just me. It's the move. Watch here, at about 2:12 (after the arms come down-- that's the cue for the dropping):
So I decided, right then and there, that the Arabic Drop-Drop-Drop was getting the axe. Maybe not the whole move, but it's going to be trimmed or altered in some way so it's not such a pain in my ass.
Some people might get their britches in a bunch over my outright gutting of this dance form. That's fine. I could get twitchy at people who insist on wearing khakis and pastel polo shirts year-round, but I figure without people to hold the line, there's no way for me to toe (or cross, or dance atop) that line.
All the ATS vocabulary aside, this seems like a useful exercise for any dancer to do, especially if you've been taking classes/self-teaching and not questioning what you've been taught. Obviously dancing in a group situation (whether it's improv or a choreography) places certain limits on what you can change, but if you're a soloist or troupe leader, take some time to review what you do. Look in the mirror and see what you like. Something that looked great on your teacher might look crappy on you, unless you're her twin. My friend Amy Danielson (of The Gypsy Kiss) just posted a rather long article similar to this-- about questioning those things that are "right" in your mind. Link: http://www.paulgraham.com/say.html
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Indian Fusion
I found this piece really well performed. Most fusion I've seen that draws on Classical Indian dance is fast and bouncy-- whereas this.... isn't. I don't wanna spoil it for you. :)
Personal
I was thinking today about something I heard once. I believe the context was in retail-- specifically, the handmade retail scene. It was: "What people want most is a piece of you." The thought is that out of all the things people can get, the one thing they'll never have is the ability to be someone else. So they, the customer, love having something that feels like a bit of someone else. That's why people go crazy when they're offered the chance to buy anything a famous person once owned.
I feel the same goes with dancing. People want a taste of YOU. The trouble is finding "you" under all your video-watching and training and popular costuming.
Think about your personal style. I don't mean your dancing, I mean your clothes, the interior of your home, your overall aesthetic. How did you get that? How long did it take? What influenced you? Who influenced you? Do you even realize how deep your influences run?
It took me a long time to realize that some of my dress style was inspired, long long ago, by Claudia from The Babysitter's Club. Big LOL there.
So when I dance, I can see some obvious influences. ATS in general and my first ATS teacher, for example, are always floating on top. Under that is a random mix of every other dancer I've ever YouTube-stalked or whose DVD I've watched. There's other stuff, too-- my love for Classical Indian dance, the soft spot for swing music, the desire to live in a Neo-Victorian fantasy world. Where am "I" in all this? Am I the sum of my parts, or is there some other element that makes me ME?
How do I let myself be me without forgetting all the things I've learned? How do I take the training and aesthetic of others and twist it and shape it around myself? Personally, that's my goal. I don't want to look like another dancer. I'd like to stand out. I'd like my solos to stand out from other solos (not "be better than" but rather "be memorable") and I'd like my improv to stand out, as well-- both in excellent execution and in interesting vocabulary.
It takes time, and the relaxation of the perfection muscles. Everyone has some epic wardrobe fail, one where you realized part way through the day that your shirt/skirt/shoes were a very bad idea and you wished you could crawl into the floor to escape the sudden embarrassment. Without that eff-up, you wouldn't have a catalog of "don'ts", just as if you don't keep track of what works, you never have a list of "dos." Play is essential.
Enough deep thoughts for the moment. I hope to blog more about other stuff in the future.
I feel the same goes with dancing. People want a taste of YOU. The trouble is finding "you" under all your video-watching and training and popular costuming.
Think about your personal style. I don't mean your dancing, I mean your clothes, the interior of your home, your overall aesthetic. How did you get that? How long did it take? What influenced you? Who influenced you? Do you even realize how deep your influences run?
It took me a long time to realize that some of my dress style was inspired, long long ago, by Claudia from The Babysitter's Club. Big LOL there.
So when I dance, I can see some obvious influences. ATS in general and my first ATS teacher, for example, are always floating on top. Under that is a random mix of every other dancer I've ever YouTube-stalked or whose DVD I've watched. There's other stuff, too-- my love for Classical Indian dance, the soft spot for swing music, the desire to live in a Neo-Victorian fantasy world. Where am "I" in all this? Am I the sum of my parts, or is there some other element that makes me ME?
How do I let myself be me without forgetting all the things I've learned? How do I take the training and aesthetic of others and twist it and shape it around myself? Personally, that's my goal. I don't want to look like another dancer. I'd like to stand out. I'd like my solos to stand out from other solos (not "be better than" but rather "be memorable") and I'd like my improv to stand out, as well-- both in excellent execution and in interesting vocabulary.
It takes time, and the relaxation of the perfection muscles. Everyone has some epic wardrobe fail, one where you realized part way through the day that your shirt/skirt/shoes were a very bad idea and you wished you could crawl into the floor to escape the sudden embarrassment. Without that eff-up, you wouldn't have a catalog of "don'ts", just as if you don't keep track of what works, you never have a list of "dos." Play is essential.
Enough deep thoughts for the moment. I hope to blog more about other stuff in the future.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
I startled myself.
Tonight I was teaching an ultimate beginner's class and was explaining Tribal posture-- how it's strong, regal, and uplifted. I started to talk about what it's done for my general posture over the years-- namely, that I used to slouch terribly and look at the floor and hang my head a lot. Now, I walk with my head up. I square my shoulders. I look at people. As I was explaining, I suddenly came up with this awesome phrase, with thanks to Terry Pratchett:
A material takes the form of the container it's in.
If you pour milk into a vase, you have vase-shaped milk.
If you pour milk into a bowl, you have bowl-shaped milk.
What happens if you pour your being into the body of a strong, confident woman?
A material takes the form of the container it's in.
If you pour milk into a vase, you have vase-shaped milk.
If you pour milk into a bowl, you have bowl-shaped milk.
What happens if you pour your being into the body of a strong, confident woman?
How I practice
I broadly group my practices into three types:
1. General.
2. Performance.
3. Play.
1: I think it's very very important to practice what you know. Especially in dance forms like ATS/ITS, if you don't use it, you lose it. For a while I had a list of every move my troupe did, and I'd run through all of them. I also had them on flashcards so I could randomly select a few and practice transitioning between them.
Also in "General" is practicing the smallest pieces of what we do. Explore the range of movement you have, and drill that range over and over until it expands. A teacher I sometimes work with suggested doing top-to-bottom and bottom-to-top undulations over and over. She also suggested doing them in every direction-- to the front, front-right, straight right, and so on. Lemme tell you, that sort of movement (although I don't really use it on stage) works muscles I didn't know I had.
Varying what you practice is important. Work different muscle groups. Work your brain. Keep yourself sharp.
2: If you have a performance coming up, practice what you'll be performing. Practice it like you're on stage. Don't stop and go back if you eff up. You won't have that option on stage, so don't give it to yourself in practice (or, at least, not always. If you're really confused, stop and fix the issue and then move on). Practice in your costume, including any jewelry or hair pieces you're wearing. You'll learn, in advance, that your bracelet snags your veil or your headpiece falls off when you lean backward (this latter issue was my most recent "Aw, crap"). If you have to wear shoes at the venue, practice in them. If you play zils, practice with them. Don't cut corners. Especially don't cut corners if you're being paid. They are not paying you to half-ass.
3: Even if dancing (or teaching dance) is your job, you started because it was fun, right? Geez, I hope so. It needs to remain fun. Even when there's hard work, endless drills, aching muscles, there needs to be play. Experimentation leads to discovery. I really didn't believe this for a long time. I just drilled and drilled and drilled. It wasn't until I decided to step away from "pure" ATS that I felt the freedom to experiment. I make up my own combos. I choreograph songs. Both come from letting myself play with music that I love. Sometimes I have to "watch myself" when I experiment-- if I'm choreographing a piece, I'll free dance and see what I come up with. If I like what I did, I write it down and try it again. Sometimes I get so caught up in the moment that I forget what I did. So I record myself, usually doing the same song a few times in a row to see what I repeat (and to give myself a chance to forget the camera is there). It's still play.
When you play, don't restrict yourself. Don't worry that your dancing isn't precise enough, or that you're not using "real moves." Just dance, damnit. Turn the pressure cooker off for a while. Stop thinking. Just move around until you forget there's any other option.
1. General.
2. Performance.
3. Play.
1: I think it's very very important to practice what you know. Especially in dance forms like ATS/ITS, if you don't use it, you lose it. For a while I had a list of every move my troupe did, and I'd run through all of them. I also had them on flashcards so I could randomly select a few and practice transitioning between them.
Also in "General" is practicing the smallest pieces of what we do. Explore the range of movement you have, and drill that range over and over until it expands. A teacher I sometimes work with suggested doing top-to-bottom and bottom-to-top undulations over and over. She also suggested doing them in every direction-- to the front, front-right, straight right, and so on. Lemme tell you, that sort of movement (although I don't really use it on stage) works muscles I didn't know I had.
Varying what you practice is important. Work different muscle groups. Work your brain. Keep yourself sharp.
2: If you have a performance coming up, practice what you'll be performing. Practice it like you're on stage. Don't stop and go back if you eff up. You won't have that option on stage, so don't give it to yourself in practice (or, at least, not always. If you're really confused, stop and fix the issue and then move on). Practice in your costume, including any jewelry or hair pieces you're wearing. You'll learn, in advance, that your bracelet snags your veil or your headpiece falls off when you lean backward (this latter issue was my most recent "Aw, crap"). If you have to wear shoes at the venue, practice in them. If you play zils, practice with them. Don't cut corners. Especially don't cut corners if you're being paid. They are not paying you to half-ass.
3: Even if dancing (or teaching dance) is your job, you started because it was fun, right? Geez, I hope so. It needs to remain fun. Even when there's hard work, endless drills, aching muscles, there needs to be play. Experimentation leads to discovery. I really didn't believe this for a long time. I just drilled and drilled and drilled. It wasn't until I decided to step away from "pure" ATS that I felt the freedom to experiment. I make up my own combos. I choreograph songs. Both come from letting myself play with music that I love. Sometimes I have to "watch myself" when I experiment-- if I'm choreographing a piece, I'll free dance and see what I come up with. If I like what I did, I write it down and try it again. Sometimes I get so caught up in the moment that I forget what I did. So I record myself, usually doing the same song a few times in a row to see what I repeat (and to give myself a chance to forget the camera is there). It's still play.
When you play, don't restrict yourself. Don't worry that your dancing isn't precise enough, or that you're not using "real moves." Just dance, damnit. Turn the pressure cooker off for a while. Stop thinking. Just move around until you forget there's any other option.
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