Life as a Modern Dancer

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Amy Foley’s Let Slip the Witches is Flat-out Transcendent

Photo: Stephen Texeira

Amy Foley’s Let Slip the Witches is Flat-out Transcendent

By Sarah JG Chenoweth

The irresistibility of witches is markedly familiar, even if you don’t share the compulsion. From fable to brutal history to contemporary practice, their stories are streaked with a power and mystery that we cannot ignore. It seems that to be witchy is to have command of both the worldly and the otherworldly. That’s what Amy Foley captures in Let Slip the Witches: the equal earthiness and sacredness of the witch. 

A few pieces preceded Let Slip the Witches in Foley’s show last weekend at ODC Theater. The first, A History of this Moment, choreographed by Robert Moses and danced by Foley herself, charted the keenly sensate role of the dancer/artist in today’s time and times past. Moses’ voice gushed meditations on the dance artist’s insightful and weathered body, their fears and ambitions, the impact and echoes of their work. Matching the stream of consciousness style of Moses’ delivery, Foley was impeccable. Every millisecond of the piece was punctuated with her razor sharp movement execution. But her demeanor was casual and genuine, as if in real-time conversation with Moses. She danced with a faculty and maturity we all dream of. 

Thighs and Wages, a restaging of Foley’s 2016 work, tumbled through women’s experiences in a society rank with patriarchal tenets for bodies and wealth. Five dancers seemed to perform every move in the book: intense floorwork, classic turns, assertive partnering, lilting solos, eloquent gestures, sailing jumps. At times they had enough reserves to support each other in this cruel mess, and other times they had to retreat to their personal battles. The theme of combatting patriarchal harm was almost too abstracted to be clear. Even so, as four of the five women fell in eventual defeat, the piece poignantly expressed that “survival mode” doesn’t guarantee survival.

The next piece was First Love, in 3 Parts, and it was as charming as it was complicated. Nol Simonse, Tanya Bello, and Foley made and danced the trio. As they weaved in and out of solo, duet, and group material, the piece celebrated their abilities as outstanding performers. The whole thing swelled with fondness for one another and honor for their individual perils. 

Finally, Let Slip the Witches closed the evening with impressive flare. It stands as a phenomenon—an event only truly understood by encountering it. But, here goes. 

Let Slip the Witches opened and remained in near darkness, with the incomparable Kaitlyn Ebert running her hands down her throat, displaying a crown of gnarled fingers, bending and twisting just enough to suggest deviousness. Something was happening to her, but she was communing with it. Elena Martins, Karla Quintero, and Juliann Witt joined her shortly, blanketed in the shadows between a floral gobo light design. The four began a soft and serene incantation to set in motion the coming ritual. “Seeker. Goddess. Mother. Priestess,” they whispered as they demarcated the space with limb and voice. Their hush grew to declaration, and their movement correspondingly intensified, creating a layered quilt of sounds, reaches, prayers, curves, callings. 

What followed was irrefutably badass. For the next almost hour, these sister witches shook, twitched, lunged, and leapt their way into a different dimension. As technical as they were wild, the women showed the resolution of the most tenacious beast. Their goal? To create a tempest, or maybe a public outcry. It could have been an ancient fertility ritual, or a funeral rite. Repetition of simple movements and walking patterns gave it the tone of a folk dance. But it was also a knockout modern dance piece, packed with arduous contemporary movement and skill.

At the seeming insistence of the lead sorceress (Ebert), each dancer had her moment of rapture. Martins flew through the space in a fury of jumps, convulsions, and spills, exhausting herself into a heap of heavy breath on the floor. Afterward, the coven surrounded her, picked her up, and took care of her, but was not “careful." Instead, they were task-oriented, as if this was the millionth time they had carried a comrade through her destruction, and they would do it a million times more: this is how we clean her up; these are the tasks we do to mourn, to make change, to acknowledge her passage. It’s just what we (must) do. 

An actual, historic ritual—performed by primitive and modern people in order to manage the natural and unexplainable world—lies outside of aesthetic and technique, and only cares about the efficacy of the act (Highwater).  Let Slip the Witches falls somewhere between ritual and performance. Aesthetic and precise choreographic structure were clearly paramount to Foley, but so was the unfolding of an uncultivated, task-based journey.

Moments of the work had the dancers carving out private exorcisms on the ground, while others had them gently bending into each other’s arms. Some moments firmly referenced popular associations with witches. We were gripped when the four stood like a small crowd downstage center, the house lights came up, and they surveyed the audience with vehemence. When they’d decided on a target, they’d point—arm and index finger hardened with condemnation. The scene reproduced the arbitrary rancor extended to women during the Salem Witch Trials. It was convincing. It was haunting.

But it’s the ending that elevated the piece to the phenomenal. Ben Juodvalkis’ music was literally rumbling our chairs and bones—the driving drum beats of ancient peoples—and the dancers were whipping up a fifth, metaphysical body that swept around and above them, so turbulent that its tendrils reached out and curled around us too. Shuffle, slap, clap, snap, shuffle, shuffle, pivot, switch, slap, slap, snap, shuffle, switch. They outlined distinct spatial patterns and rhythms again, and again, and again. An invigorating frenzy of mathematical, determined orbiting and pounding. By this time, their hair was down and thrashing, full of sweat and tangles, further freeing their energies. This section truly made the work. Without it, we may have enjoyed a conceptual dance piece with attractive witchy imagery. With it, we were entranced in something that felt primal and important. 

Let Slip the Witches rang of some matriarchal pagan time, one in which women’s moves are seen to possess the wisdom and magic it takes to enact rites of passage and to defy physics and create energy. The piece feels feminist because of how power was defined and used. While it was clear that forces were acting upon and inside these characters, it was also clear that they had authority over themselves. So much potency came from their ability to endure and transcend, not just the insanely physical (dance) feat before us, but also millennia of labor, public shaming, and bludgeoning that they conjured up. 

At last the dancers lay on the floor, collapsed and panting. We expected an ending and would have been satisfied with it. But, the lead sorceress hopped up and goaded the others to do the same, as if to say, “We still have our work to do.” So they continued, with only slightly less vigor, to close the ritual, repeating the calls to seeker, mother, goddess. They ultimately settled into a warped, yogic goddess pose—fully flung, pulsing, wrecked, exposed, and robust, goddess. 

Highwater, Jamake.“History as Ritual.” Dance: Rituals of Experience, Toronto, Methuen Publication, 1978, pp. 39-44.

 

Sarah JG Chenoweth is a dancer, teacher, and writer based in Oakland, California.

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Blog Series: Studio Practice/Studio Time (Jodi Melnick)

Today New York City-based artist Jodi Melnick shares about her studio practice. Click here to read Jodi's full artist profile on the blog from 2015.

Photo: Maggie Picard

Studio time/practice has been an every (almost) day occurrence since college. I was fortunate to go to school with a group of artists, and had teachers, that instilled this notion that spending time alone, with others, exploring, dissecting, experimenting, finding the newness and re-doing the sameness, would be a vital part of my creative practice.

It is indeed a luxury, always in this dance economy, to have space available to oneself, and for that I am eternally grateful for the spaces I have found that I can afford or have taught in, or have resided in as a result of a fellowship. When space has not been at my disposal, the floor where I live, or a long wide hallway where I used to live, or my mother’s patio in the hot sun - for real, has served as my space.

It’s the aloneness in any space, the entering, lying on the floor, waiting for my body, my desire, my thoughts, images, plans, to all sync so I can generate a physical expression that propels a thought to the next thought, or a knot to untie, it is perplexing and clarifying. It is my vehicle to speak. Starting is overwhelming, as exciting as it is harsh and terrifying, and it always starts with not knowing. I put myself through the same thing that I put myself through the day before, but I do this because my practice is my life, a place/space that allows me to understand how I best relate to the world and the people I engage with.

This past December, I got hit by a taxi in NYC. I’m healing from broken bones, incorporating plates and screws, bones with screaming nerves. My daily practice has been dealing with depression, sadness, and physical therapy. Healing for me means getting back into the studio, something I am just starting to do now. I miss it. I wish I did not miss or need it so much.

 

Click here to read how six more artists think about their studio practice/studio time.

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Blog Series: Studio Practice/Studio Time (Randee Paufve)

Today we hear from San Francisco Bay Area artist Randee Paufve.

Studio time is solo time, when I work on everything, something, or nothing for the number of projects I have going at any time. Studio time takes place in dance studios, at a church in El Cerrito, in my apartment, at a park, at the gym I keep joining and quitting. Studio time is anywhere I dance that is not about a deadline, actively choreographing/directing, teaching, writing grants, strategizing about how to get the dances made/supported/seen, or any of the other things we do as dance people. My practice of the last many months starts with walking and making sacrifices to the four or five or 8 or 12 directions. Then I walk all the diagonals in the space. I walk in spirals, forward and backward, with my eyes open and closed. I breathe and crawl and pray. I do pushups and other strengthening and dancey things. I write and read things aloud, talk to myself, and also with others who aren’t there. Eat snacks, think and improvise.

I slow down to myself, inside and out, feeling my skin feeling air and space. Sacred. Opening. Forgiving. I see, smell, listen. Acknowledge the floor, the walls, the ceiling, all the stuff. Sometimes I rant and cry, mewling howls, so grateful and lucky and scared and pissed off. Sometimes I play music loud or soft or I sing a little.       

I move a lot. In recent years I find more physical limitations, so I work with what I have and kind of forget about what I can’t do which is kind of cool. Right now it’s all about upper body movement and expanding stillness as my hip is healing.

Find out more about Randee at paufvedance.org.

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Blog Series: Studio Practice/Studio Time (Nina Haft)

Today we hear from San Francisco Bay Area artist Nina Haft.

Nina Haft & Company. (Left to right: Rebecca Johnson, Sarah Chenoweth, and Frances Sedayao.)

My studio practice has evolved and continues to cycle with seasons in my production, teaching and life schedules. Noodling around and improvising is something I don’t do enough of lately, but when time (and pain levels) permit, I find that an unstructured hour in the studio with no product in my sights is the very best way for me to keep my kinetic imagination tuned and porous. Once I am in a rehearsal process, I tend to shift my needs to a group studio practice – a directing one. The longer I make work, the more I understand that exploring the dancers and our alchemy together is a huge part of grounding a project in something specific to that inquiry. I now find what the work is about in great measure by 1) asking a series of iterative questions with dancers; 2) observing their movement and interactions; 3) sharing observations (talking) and mostly by listening to them. I then reframe the question or the task, and we dive back in.

This process takes time. It always feels worth it.

Over time, my body has become more limited in the ways it can move freely. This is aging, and also the product of long-term use injury. I am learning to dance with pain and also to free myself from secondary injury (i.e. compensation that creates new pain) mostly by doing Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement lessons. My teacher Mary Armentrout has become a touchstone for my practice, not only for her healing hands and astute eyes, but also for her ability to bridge this self-care practice into a larger compositional and philosophical context. Working easier not harder has helped me to focus my efforts in ways that do not take such a toll on my mind, body or spirit. This gives me hope. Our art form as it lives in the urban capitalist framework is not generally restorative. We dancers do much to generate value for and with each other. But at the end of the day, I sleep and wake in my own body.

Teaching feeds by directing practice by prompting me to track my intuitive movement impulses (making material) and by crafting it for an audience (students). Although my choreographic work is rarely structured around music or rhythm, I pretty much always create material by finding music that makes me want to move. In some ways, I think of this channel of movement making as an alternate personality of mine! It reminds me of where I come from, and it reveals to me the ways other people’s movements are filtering into my own. I am grateful that it does.

I am blessed with access to studio space as a Company in Residence at Shawl-Anderson Dance Center, and also (to a much lesser extent) as faculty at CSU East Bay. I also regularly rent studio space due to scheduling needs. I have noticed that the nature of a space seems to percolate into the work itself. It can really help to have a "neutral" space – one where I do not fulfill roles for anyone else but myself – when I need to tap into my intuition.

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Related posts:

My Dance Week: Nina Haft

Blog Series: Studio Practice/Studio Time

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Speaking as a Teaching Artist: Five Bay Area Artists Share Perspectives (Lauren Simpson, Kathleen Hermesdorf, Charles Slender-White, and Kristin Damrow)

From Blog Director Jill Randall:

During the past year, these five San Francisco Bay Area artists have shared Artist Profiles on Life as a Modern Dancer. Today, I pulled together their thoughts around the art of teaching. Click on each artist's name to read their full Artist Profile.

Lauren Simpson teaching "Practice, Process, Research: Defining Terms and Playing Around" at Lion's Jaw Festival 2018. With collaborator Jenny Stulberg. Photo by The Fleet NYC.

From Lauren Simpson (San Francisco, CA)

What is the role of teaching in your career?

Teaching has been the most consistent part of my life and career. Recently I’ve been most excited about developing a theory around dance making and arts practices geared specifically to dancers and movers. I am interested in concrete ways to be creative in the studio/classroom, demystifying the creative process a bit. I hope to enable artists to explore artistic choices systematically through practice, process, and research – practice is about work, process is about framework, and research is about fieldwork. I draw on other artists' work and my own to make arguments about what’s required to make a dance successful, what’s required to make a dance enjoyable to create and what’s required to make a dance possible. I have been developing the curriculum through short-term residencies at Universities around the country.

In addition to my visiting teaching work, I have been an Adjunct Professor at University of San Francisco and Harvard College teaching contemporary modern technique, contact improvisation, dance history, and composition. One of my most formative teaching experiences was the three years I taught dance full time at the Cambridge Rindge & Latin School in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Since I was 14 I have been teaching dance in some capacity. Of the three typical dancer hats - choreographer, performer, teacher - it’s the thing I’ve practiced the longest and it’s likely my strongest suit of the three.

From Kathleen Hermesdorf (San Francisco, CA)

What does the phrase “teaching artist” mean to you? What is the interplay between art making and teaching?

I’ve always used class as practice and research. Even more since I began sharing it with my musical collaborator. We engage our creative process in class and share our creative research. I also try to bring in as much of my experience from rehearsals and performance into class and find ways to integrate that into the practice. The interplay allows for articulation and activation of intention, attention, sensation, inspiration, organizing principles, absurd situations, and more. This serves the teaching, the creating, and life in general.

From Charles Slender-White (San Francisco, CA)

Teaching. What do you love about teaching? What challenges you? Role models and inspiration for your teaching practice and pedagogy….

I most love teaching because it’s a direct way for me to share my enthusiasm for dance with other people. I start with a series of proposals, witness how the dancers in the room are taking in the information, observe what’s going on with my own dancing, and go from there. Every class is an amazing combination of physical effort, intellectual problem solving, community activation, and hopefully, joy.

I am currently working on two things: 1.) using more direct language and, 2.) becoming more sophisticated in my ability to sense when, in class, it’s time to say more and when it’s time to just shut up and let people dance.

I have been teaching Countertechnique since 2012, and it has an organized pedagogical framework. Within this framework, though, the teachers are encouraged to let their personalities, strengths, and interests inform the class. I continue to be profoundly inspired by my Countertechnique colleagues and my teaching mentor, Anouk van Dijk. James Graham is also an inspiring teacher. He and I started dancing together in 2003, and it has been amazing to grow into our respective practices alongside one another over the last 15 years.

Charles Slender-White teaching (far right). Photo by Robbie Sweeny.

From Kristin Damrow (Oakland, CA)

What is the role of teaching within your dance life? What do you love about teaching? What does the phrase “teaching artist” mean to you?  

Teaching for me is everything. I love the rigor and physicality. I enjoy the challenge that comes with teaching different ages/levels. I find excitement in finding new ways to explore familiar techniques/patterns. “Teaching artist” for me has a defined meaning as I was a teaching artist with LEAP when I first moved to the Bay Area. I would go into schools, usually k-12, and teach dance to students. As, I look back on it now, I think teaching artist can have many meanings or values. There is definitely an art to teaching.

Role models and inspiration for your teaching practice and pedagogy:

My pedagogy has morphed into what it is today by all of the influential teachers I learned from. At Columbia College: Margi Cole, Darrell Jones, Liz Burritt. Here in the Bay: Katie Faulkner, Christine Cali, Janice Garrett, Mo Miner. In NYC: Yin Yue and Shannon Gillen. To name a few.

From Tanya Chianese (Oakland, CA)

What is the role of teaching within your dance life? What do you love about teaching? What does the phrase “teaching artist” mean to you?

I could write a novel in response to these questions! Most of my income is from teaching dance, and I adore it. I used to teach upwards of 18 classes a week, but recently only 7-10 a week. Teaching helps me stay grounded and in reality. Because I have the pleasure of teaching a large age range (age 3-adults) I get to explore dance from all sides, ranging from focusing on the placement of our scapula bones to telling stories via creative movement. Each age, level, and context has taught me so much - both as an artist and a human.

But most importantly, teaching is not about me! It is about sharing this transformational practice in order to teach students a variety of lessons including how to take ownership of their body, how to express themselves, how discipline and respect will move them through life, how to be compassionate in the world, how to release stress and anxiety, how to work as a community, and so much more.

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One Good Quote: Let Slip the Witches with the Bellwether Dance Project

In Fall 2017, Life as a Modern Dancer launched a new concept for post-performance discussion and writing. The goals are multi-fold:

• What are new ways to invite post-performance writing (since so few publications now print dance reviews, and there are fewer and fewer dance critics in the United States)?
• How can choreographers hear and read more from audience members about their impressions and experiences of dance events?
• Can we offer new mechanisms for choreographers to gather language about their work, to further their work and to promote their work? 

The premise is simple. If you experienced the Bellwether Dance Project in Let Slip the Witches at ODC Theater in San Francisco April 4-6, 2019, please take a few minutes to leave a comment. Write down images, impressions, appreciations, and questions from the performance. These can be words, phrases, or a few sentences. 

We thank you for your time, support, and thoughtfulness. Here's to more dialogue, more reflection, and more writing on the dance performance experience. As choreographer Mariah Steele noted, we are "democratizing dance criticism."

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Dreaming/Preparing/Dancing: 1 Day until Let Slip the Witches with Bellwether Dance Project

This week we are sharing several previews before the premiere of Let Slip the Witches, with Bellwether Dance Project, at the ODC Theater in San Francisco, April 4-6, 2019. We will hear from choreographer Amy Foley as well from her collaborators.

 

Please join us! Purchase your tickets here.

 

Photo by Stephen Texeira. Front, left - Karla Quintero. Back, left - Kaitlyn Ebert. Front, right - Elena Martins. Back, right - Juliann Witt.

Today we hear from choreographer Amy Foley about each of her collaborators, responding to the question, "Can you share a little bit about each dancer in this week's performance and what they bring to the work?"

Kaitlyn Ebert ("Let Slip the Witches" and "Thighs and Wages") has been in almost every piece I have created. She has been with me from the start of Bellwether Dance Project, and I not only love her movement quality and her sheer focus and fierceness as a performer, but I trust her instincts implicitly.

Elena Martins ("Let Slip the Witches" and "Thighs and Wages") is one of those dancers who can seemingly do everything! This is our first time working together but I feel like it has been much longer. As a dancer she is unfailingly quick, consistent and reliable at her core -- covered in a flair and attack that almost surprises.

Juliann Witt ("Let Slip the Witches" and "Thighs and Wages") is another dancer who can do it ALL. She is up for any task, dramatic or technical, and retains everything. I love watching her different approaches to the movement in both pieces -- she is so very versatile and exciting to watch.

Karla Quintero ("Let Slip the Witches") is a dancer I have long been drawn to as a performer but we had never worked together until I asked her to jump into Let Slip the Witches to fill in for another dancer, who had created the role but had to pull out of the show. Karla has met the thankless task of learning someone else's role, quickly, with grace and fire. She has taken the role and made it her own, with stunning and organic results.

Caitlin Hicks ("Thighs and Wages") An absolutely gorgeous mover. She is thoughtful and inquisitive in rehearsal. She has a dramatic, focused quality that is extremely compelling to me. I can't wait to see her in the work on stage.

Kelsey Gerber ("Thighs and Wages") has a movement style that I love. It is different from mine, and I like that. I have admired her as a performer and look forward to seeing her bring the fire on stage. She makes it all look so easy, somehow.

Nol Simonse ("First Love, in 3 Parts") is a dance-idol of mine. I love his work and his movement quality. It is so very fun and humbling to make a work for him. He has had a lot of input on the process which has been invaluable to me. Honestly, it is just a joy to be on stage with him. He is an intuitive performer and gracious partner.

Tanya Bello ("First Love, in 3 Parts") is another dance-idol of mine. I have danced for her in her company, project B. And I have limitless respect for her as a maker. It is humbling to make work with her, but she is game for anything and offers brilliant suggestions. It is a joy to dance with and near her -- she is a generous performer and her technique -- come on! Goals.

All of the dancers really bring themselves to the work -- I love to watch them dancing intensely technical choreography with their own special quirks intact. I am not interested in everyone looking exactly the same, but there are moments of unison and certain other structures that require some "sameness" -- I think it takes a high level of competence and confidence to move with others as an organism but retain and show some of your choices about approach and flair. The dancers all do a beautiful job of riding this shifty middle ground. They are truly embodying the movement, and that is very exciting to me. In many cases they have been a big part of the creation of the movement language for the work, so I am relying on them as makers and well as fierce dancer-thinkers.

Dreaming/Preparing/Dancing: 3 Days until Let Slip the Witches with Bellwether Dance Project

This week we are sharing several previews before the premiere of Let Slip the Witches, with Bellwether Dance Project, at the ODC Theater in San Francisco, April 4-6, 2019. We will hear from choreographer Amy Foley as well from her collaborators.

 

Please join us! Purchase your tickets here.

Kaitlyn Ebert. Photo by Stephen Texeira.

Today we hear from several of the dancers and collaborators for the project. They share about risk, vulnerability, endurance, and exertion.

Tanya Bello: There was always a plan to what I thought my artistic life should look like. But life happens, priorities change, and your artistic life shifts. As you get older, you question your body, your relevance in the community, but Amy trusted me. She invited me to return to the stage after a long hiatus. I went back into the studio and felt vulnerable. I move differently now, but the process reminded me of the contributions I can make as an artist. The collaboration between Nol and Amy has truly been a blessing. The risk was well worth it.

 

Karla Quintero: As a dance, LSTW demands a lot. It has the feeling of a very important ritual, one you might perform to stop the world from ending. Right now, rehearsals are a practice of toggling between intense repetition, assertiveness, and deep listening. As we bring this ritual into performance, I imagine this will shift. My hope is that it will open a portal to an organic unity that I've been craving.

 

Juliann Witt: Amy’s work has been challenging me to move low and quick. Channeling the beastly witch inside this long lanky exterior.

 

Caitlin Hicks and Elena Martins. Photo: Stephen Texeira.

 

Kaitlyn Ebert: In "Let Slip the Witches" and "Thighs and Wages," the concept of endurance as it relates to resistance has come up for me a lot. Physically, both of the pieces are very challenging in that respect, but furthermore the works have encouraged and continue to push me to explore the concept of work, vitality, and sometimes exhaustion (as Amy has described it) as a performance element and what that contributes to the work as a whole and how this idea of physical endurance translates to the idea of emotional resistance and persistence that embodies the female experience. 

 

Elena Martins: It has been easy to dive into the vulnerable sides of this work. The process of working with a group of strong, independent, and supportive women has felt empowering, and I can’t wait to continue taking risks with these ladies throughout the run of the shows.

 

Caitlin Hicks: I love “Thighs and Wages” for the honesty it allows me as a performer. There is room for and celebration of strength and struggle that are realities in dance and life but that we often are encouraged to hide or act out superficially. This work has allowed me to embrace exertion in a really gratifying way.

Kelsey Gerber: Adapting to a work set on bodies that move differently than your own has its own quirks and challenges. You have to be open to moving in new ways, yet choosing moments to redirect the flow and move the way that feels most organic to your body. This has brought up some vulnerable moments for me, trying to find sense and comfort in the material that is at first foreign. I feel outside of my body, my comfort zone, yet working in this state brings new opportunities for risk taking you may not have been pushed to before.

Dreaming/Preparing/Dancing: 4 Days until Let Slip the Witches with Bellwether Dance Project

This week we are sharing several previews before the premiere of Let Slip the Witches, with Bellwether Dance Project, at the ODC Theater in San Francisco, April 4-6, 2019. We will hear from choreographer Amy Foley as well from her collaborators.

Please join us! Purchase your tickets here.

Amy Foley. Photo by Stephen Texeira.

Today choreographer Amy Foley reflects about Let Slip the Witches.

Five words or phrases to describe the project:

moving
collaborative
riotous
nuanced
hopeful

When was the choreographic moment for you? Why did you want to make this piece?

I wanted to create a big, juicy show for the inaugural home season for Bellwether Dance Project. I was working in the studio and creating A LOT during my time as a CHIME recipient in 2018, and I had created some work that I was interested in seeing in the same show, so I decided to finally challenge myself to produce my own concert. I wanted to create something that feels relevant and representative of me as an artist and of the company as a force.

Karla Quintero, Elena Martins, Juliann Witt, and Kaitlyn Ebert. Photo by Stephen Texeira.

What research did you do related to the work?

I was highly influenced by Rebecca Solnit's Men Explain Things to Me, back in 2016, when I was making "Thighs and Wages," which is on this program, and have since read many of her books and essays -- all rich and informative. I was creating "Thighs and Wages" during the US Presidential campaign and eventual election -- and I expected a very different election outcome! Though it was largely completed by the time our current president was elected, the piece took on a heavier tone in performance and definitely since. Much of "Thighs and Wages" was and continues to be based on personal experience and the experiences of close friends and the dancers. And as a mom of girls, I am passionate about reminding everyone, myself included, that we place undue scrutiny on girls and women, which can have all sorts of negative repercussions, including discrimination and violence.

For "Let Slip the Witches," I researched the American witch trials and about current-day interest in witches. The piece is not "about" the witch trials as much as an exploration of the current renewed feminist fascination with witches, but we did end up creating a lot of movement based on some of the "tests" used to determine if a person was a witch in the 1600s. Plunging one's hand into a pot of boiling water to grab a stone was one that stuck and has become part of the movement language of the piece. Other related ideas that were evocative for creation of movement for the work: conjuring, sisterhood, ritual, being cunning as a method of survival, and embracing an "otheredness." We also spent a chunk of time developing the rhythmic structure to the work -- rhythm plays a big role in the work, and we try to approach the particular rhythm of the work from a number of different angles.

Both "Let Slip the Witches" and "Thighs and Wages" contain personal experiences or connections to the subject matter. I make work about the things that move or rile me -- and here they are.

What are the music selections for the evening?

Ben Juodvalkis has crafted a gorgeous score for "Let Slip the Witches." I am super excited to share it! The other musical selections for the evening range from recorded readings to Willie Nelson, Bach, Mum, and more.

 

Please also check out Amy's artist profile on the blog from 2016. Click here.

Elevate: a triple bill of female choreographers

By Shana Simmons, Shana Simmons Dance

Three choreographers, three creative minds, three cities. How does one put a tour together? With today's struggle for voice, exposure, trying to make your own way, and getting recognized in your field, performance opportunities are becoming more difficult to find while overcoming other challenges. We have to get creative about finding outlets as choreographers which help promote company work. Enter Elevate: a triple bill of female choreographers, highlighting ideas of boundaries as female artists, whether self-imposed or societal, and how we overcome them. Featuring choreographers Heather Bryce (Bryce Dance Co, NYC), Erin Carlisle Norton (The Moving Architects, NJ/NYC) and Shana Simmons (Shana Simmons Dance, Pittsburgh) these three minds will experiment with whether their individual choreographic voices will be heard when combining three works together to form one artistic statement.

I first met Erin Carlisle Norton in Pittsburgh, PA, as she trained at the Civic Light Opera, where my mom was a teacher. This tall redhead, who commanded attention, was nice to the untrained dancer (myself), but it was clear she had one focus: dance. We later shared an apartment at the American Dance Festival and (MANY) years later collaborated on professional projects, most recently in 2015. Heather Bryce and Erin Carlisle Norton met over one of the Movers and Shapers podcast episodes, through an interview process featuring collaborative ideas and movement for every body. Erin had the idea to combine the three of us together to make something new. She states:

"Each of us are experienced in the field, have multiple dance degrees, have run our own companies, are interested in expansion, and..... I like working with women." (Erin's company is a female based company.)

What can you expect when entering these theaters? Three styles of dance are prominent; the first half boasts unique repertory pieces giving you the flavor of each company. The second half of the show is the featured title, Elevate, which demonstrates each choreographer's interpretation of the boundary theme. The companies are each bringing 4-6 dancers, aiming to provide them with professional experiences through meaningful performances. The three of us are collaborating on each transition to string together all three works together through Skype dialogue and in-studio filming; we are developing ways each company's dancers will be on stage together interacting. These meetings usually occur late at night, with everyone looking a little sleepy. Erin's 5-year old occasionally makes an appearance with his pink toy car, Heather and her long hair draped to one side diligently types away as the meeting progresses, uploading files and keeping us on track, while I tend to let my dog out mid-sentence, because he's the cutest shih tzu alive and deserves my attention. 

The tour is self-produced, which means we are individually fundraising in our own ways to attain the necessary amount to take each company to one another's cities. We launched a collaborative fundraiser in March to help alleviate the costs to rent theaters, pay dancers, and make sure we all have housing for each trip. We are aiming to provide the best audience experience, connecting you to the female voice, and spreading awareness about local female organizations in our communities! Through the trips and toils of creation and organization, it is so worth it to provide you with an amazing show and express ourselves through our art form.

We are excited to share our works with three cities: Boston, New York City, and Pittsburgh, and hope you can join us in the theater!

Elevate: A triple bill of female choreographers 

April 17-18 Actors Fund Arts Center (Brooklyn, NY)

April 19-20 The Dance Complex (Cambridge, MA)

May 4 Point Park University, George Rowland White Performance Center (Pittsburgh, PA)

 

 

Shana Simmons is a Pittsburgh based choreographer and dancer. Simmons graduated from Point Park University with a BA in Dance and from Laban, in London, England, with an MA in Choreography. Her works have been seen in London, Belgium, New York City, Chicago, and Pittsburgh. Shana Simmons Dance aims to encourage artistic voices in everyone and communicate through the ultimate human expression: movement.

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