Life as a Modern Dancer

Artist Profile #172: Joan Lazarus (Greenbrae, CA)

Photo:  Lorelei Ghanizadeh Voorsanger

 

Hometown:  Born in Champaign/Urbana, Illinois. Raised in metro Boston. Family from NYC.

Current city: Greenbrae, CA

Age: 68

College and degree: B.A. Independent Learning in Psycholinguistics — Speech Perception and Language Acquisition (Indiana University, Bloomington)

Graduate school and degree: M.A. Dance (University of Oregon, Eugene); M.A. Arts Administration (Golden Gate University, San Francisco)

Website: www.danceartsf.org

How you pay the bills: Now? Teaching dance.

All of the dance hats you wear: Dancer, Teacher, Choreographer, Arts Administrator (every aspect of it — management, development, marketing, finance/budgeting, facility management, board development, HR, etc.)

Non-dance work you do: Graphic design – in service to the arts

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Describe your dance life...

Before getting into the chronological rundown, I found it very interesting and challenging to identify turning points that detoured or directed the journey. Especially for people like me who began dancing seriously as children, identifying what aspects of dance attract or fulfill us can be a mysterious adventure. When one starts to dance at age 5, the first years are about obedience and work ethic, and those who continue to dance throughout their lives may actually discover other components of the practice for themselves.

In 1995, I made a quartet titled, “Then Frank looked at Victor, turned to me and said, ‘Knowing isn’t something that happens all of a sudden. It’s something you grow into.’” Kind of summed up what I think my life in dance has been. (Danced with Sue Li Jue, Laura Elaine Ellis, and Michael Armstrong, and dedicated to Frank Shawl and Victor Anderson.)

Some of those turning points, without chronology, since they are ever-evolving:

• Modern dance.  Coming from a strict ballet background, taking my first modern dance classes was very confusing. I thought it was ugly. I thought it was regressive. I thought it was easy. Luckily, I was in a program with fabulous, if under-appreciated, teachers who specialized in Horton, Hawkins, and Cunningham techniques. All three of these practices were taught in their true technical progressions, so at least I could appreciate modern dance for that.
• New work vs. repertory. I realized early on that one of the most attractive things to me about modern dance was that it was NEW work. In ballet, often an entire career is spent learning a deep and resonant repertory. Although to this day I adore ballet for its continuity and artistic relevance, finding out that I loved the creative process in the studio was revelatory. I treasure having work made on me and creating work on others.
• Studio vs. proscenium. I like to be 10 feet away from my audience. It was such a disappointment to realize that my preference for small, intimate spaces probably meant a more limited or invisible career. As my mother said, “You’re not going to be famous.” Having performed on many proscenium or large stages, I had to admit that I needed to “feel” the audience in a visceral way for the dance to feel right.
• Teaching vs. performing. Sometimes you find your calling. Performing isn’t as interesting or fulfilling to me as teaching. I have been told that I do both well, and I have engaged in performing for decades, but my joy comes from studio work: teaching and rehearsing. Letting go of the need to be seen/remembered/appreciated as a dance performer is not easy, but aging really helps! People no longer have expectations, or at least, I think they don’t.
• Attachment to the ephemeral nature of dance. I don’t like photos. I don’t like videos. I appreciate both for the memories and archive that they offer, but . . . there is something “un-dancey” about them. And, thank goodness they exist.
• Love of technique – how things work. This links back into why I love to teach. There is nothing more fulfilling and exciting to me than figuring out “how to get that particular body to do that particular skill,” and “how to get that particular dancer to ‘drop-in’ through movement.”

20s: Early 20s — living part-time in Boston, part-time in New York, and part-time in Princeton, NJ. And I mean part-time. I had great teaching jobs in Boston (Dance Circle, Institute for Contemporary Dance), that allowed me to jump on a train to NYC Wednesday evenings, arrive for rehearsals on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, and . . . commute to Princeton Ballet to teach in the evenings. Then Sunday night, I would jump on a train to get back to Boston to teach on Monday mornings. I lived out of my dance bag and got to know train conductors by name. This was a very transitional time for me technically, too – ballet to modern dance. I was so very blessed to fall in with a wonderful crowd of dancers and choreographers – the first graduating class from CalArts. They were trained by Bella Lewitzky and Mia Slavensaka, and brimming with technical information. Thanks to Bill DeYoung, Liz Rosner, Joy Kellman, Susan Rose, and Sue Hogan.

Latter 20s — while on tour with Bill DeYoung, we stopped for a residency at the University of Oregon. Believe it or not, my very first modern dance teacher, T. Ray Faulkner, was on faculty there. After our national tour was completed, I received two offers. One was to go back to NYC and join a well-established dance company, and the other was to join the faculty at U of O to replace someone on sabbatical . . . while completing an M.A. in Dance. I always knew I loved to teach, but this is when I found out that I REALLY loved it. I taught 32 contact hours per week, and then of course, there was the administrative, committee, faculty responsibilities, advising, performing, producing. Only the young ...

With my M.A., I was hired by U of O to join the faculty. I was offered two other jobs, but chose to stay at U of O because of the curriculum: full curriculum in ballet, modern, and folk dance. Nowhere else where I was interviewing had that level of commitment to dance. I was one of the founding company members of Eugene Ballet. Last time I performed en pointe. Thank goodness. I was in Eugene for four years.

30s: There comes a time when you realize that you want more challenge. I loved Eugene, the facilities, the students, the curriculum. But I was pushing 30, and the thought that I would never again be in a studio with dancers who challenged me as a colleague and fellow artist made me seek a change. That’s when I arrived in the Bay Area to teach at Mills College. For three years I taught every course except notation and cultures. Studio classes in all levels of ballet, modern, composition, improvisation, pointe, repertory, etc. And part of the academic curriculum: ballet history, historical overview, graduate level history courses, graduate research, pedagogy, advising, etc. As a history buff, it was breathtaking to be in the studios where so many important 20th Century artists had taught, made work, and performed. But the greatest gift was class size. The advanced modern dance class had only eight students in it. The accompanist, Judy Rosenberg, is one of the finest dance accompanists in the world. What a treat, every single day. And I danced with choreographers making new work: Ellen Bromberg, Emily Keeler, Kathleen McClintock, Wade Madsen, Victoria Morgan, Richard Colton, Alan Ptashek, Krissy Keefer, Alonzo King, Anne Bluethenthal, and Frank Shawl.

I also taught at New Performance Gallery (a precursor of ODC Dance Commons), San Francisco Ballet, San Francisco School of the Arts, The Academy of Ballet, Shawl-Anderson, and a host of other studios. My little repertory company, LAZARUS/dance, existed for about 7-8 years.

40s: After two unfortunate injuries (car accident and ruptured Achilles tendon), I became even more involved in administrative activities in the dance community: Dance Bay Area (at the time, the largest dance service organization in the country) and Bay Area Celebrates National Dance Week. Still teaching, too. I became the Managing Director of the Cowell Theater at Fort Mason, and then the Executive Director of Oakland Ballet. And in my early 40s, I began to work with Cathleen McCarthy on Summerfest/dance (which eventually became WestWave Dance Festival). That was an 18-year stint, and I loved every minute of it. All of these activities were under the umbrella of a 501(c)3 called DanceArt, Inc. founded by Linda Rawlings and me.

Late in my 40s, my husband died. The way I feel now about the COVID-19 devastation to our field is so close to how I felt at that time, and for many years thereafter. There is a kind of grief that opens one up to inquiry and a reordering of perspective. My big question was, “Am I attached to my place in the dance community, or to dance itself?” Asking and answering that question over and over again allowed me to make some choices about the balance of time in the studio and participation in “causes” within our dance community.

50s: 50+ can be a confusing time for dancers, I think. Our field is focused on youth, inventiveness, and astounding virtuosity. So as we age, and especially as women age, we become invisible. A gentle but steady fade. At times I felt tolerated, or that people were disappointed in me. At times I was relieved to be in an audience where nobody knew me. At the same time, I was teaching some of the best classes of my life. When you keep teaching regularly, you keep discovering new things, and you get better at it!  Good news! People’s expectations of older dancers can be so low that we are constantly exceeding their expectations and surprising them. I now understand that when I was younger, I probably also treated older people as if they knew little and had little to offer. I can only forgive myself for that now. Not sure I had the self-knowledge to do it differently at the time. I think the chart goes like this, “As estrogen decreases, a woman’s ability to give-a-f_ _ _ also decreases.” Less concern about whether one is being judged. More willingness to ask someone else to demonstrate a skill. A return of curiosity.

60s: Sixties are great. No one has any expectations, but sometimes they “rediscover” you and find out that you don’t mean that you studied Cunningham technique, you mean you studied Cunningham from Cunningham. You studied Graham with Graham. You studied Hawkins with Hawkins. This is why I valued my friendship with Frank Shawl and Victor Anderson so much – they were the LINK in the Bay Area that insisted on being accessible to all. And then, in my 60s, I also spent three years at a dream job as Executive Director of Perry-Mansfield Performing Arts School & Camp in Steamboat Springs. Every floorboard sang with the history of the dancers who had stretched, practiced, and performed on those stages. Stories were everywhere. I had the chance to reunite with my first modern dance teacher and to bring the astounding Lynda Davis and some of our favorite Bay Area artists to camp (Amy Seiwert, Alex Ketley, Keith Terry, Evie Ladin, and many more). And I am performing again, almost by mistake. Sarah Bush Dance Project has dragged me out onto the boards. Thanks!

Rehearsing with Sarah Bush Dance Project. Left to right: Sarah Bush, Joan Lazarus, and Sue Li Jue. Photo by Lisa Harding.

Current training practices and care of the body:

I am trying to take the advice that I give to my students . . . the only thing that correlates with overall health as you age is flexibility.

Safety first – I have nothing to prove.

Floating and watsu and waterdance.

Note: They let you keep the legs, so work ‘em.

Prior to shelter in place, how many classes were you teaching a week and what levels/styles?

9 classes/week. Ballet, Modern Dance, and Repertory. Beginning and Intermediate techniques.

What do you love about teaching? 

Figuring things out.

As we are still in shelter in place, what have been the creative puzzles to solve about online Zoom classes?

The Zoom classes are a way to TRY to replicate and retain the relationship that we developed together into that teacher-student ecosystem. At this point, I think it’s definitely worth developing the skills to actually TEACH virtually since technology will continue to advance in every field. However, the puzzle of how to teach each and every student so that they progress and succeed at their own pace requires (at least for now) that I can SEE them in real time, in context, in repetition. Eyes on. Hands on.

What are you enjoying about them, and what do you miss most about teaching in a studio with a room full of students?

I love that the students are muted. Is that terrible to say? In a studio setting, I need to hear and “feel” the dancers, but online, it’s distracting to hear someone and then try to find which little box is speaking, or which dog is barking. So, I love that silence in the virtual field, but dance is live. It’s vibrational. It’s a practice that is handed down, literally. There is currently no substitute for that.

Advice to young dancers just getting into teaching:

First and foremost, visit classes and observe teachers! Those who you like are actually doing something intentionally to make the class structure and pacing work. Analyze it. Copy it. Ask for advice. If you like what someone is up to in the studio, they will be flattered that you want to have tea with them and brainstorm. There is nothing new in the world. They will (want to) share it with you.

• The most difficult level to teach is the beginning level. You actually have to know how to begin… And what you teach those beginners is the foundation for everything they do after that. Big responsibility.
• Get clear on your goals for the class – today and over time.
• Don’t feel you have to entertain.
• Pay attention to how you use your voice.
• Make real eye contact with students, and learn their names.
• If you don’t know the technical progression for teaching something, don’t teach it. Study first.
• We don’t remember how much repetition we experienced in order to master a skill. Don’t be afraid to “do it again.” You don’t have to move on to the next thing in your class plan if your students are on the verge of learning something. Get them there. All students are looking for personal progress and success. You can give it to them by noticing what they need.
• Spend the time to get your accompaniment in order. This is part of your job. If you have a live musician, make sure you know how to demonstrate IN TIME and give information about how you want each exercise to be introduced. If you are working with recorded music, do your homework! You can break the spell and ruin the pacing of the class if you are not ready. It also steals as much as 10 minutes of dancing time to be searching for music.             

Longtime colleagues Jane Schnorrenberg, Sue Li Jue, Joan Lazarus, and Laura Elaine Ellis

Please talk about your recent, current, or upcoming choreographic and performing projects.

I am working with a remarkable group of women in an informal repertory group, and we perform about four times each year. These are a wonderful mix of dancers: returning, retired pros, newly arrived, and ready to go beyond the studio class into choreography. Loving it.  Can’t wait to get back into the studio with them. 

What would you say are some of the biggest changes you have seen in modern dance over the span of your career?

It’s not really changes, it’s cycles. And it’s different streams at the same time. In the 1960s, there was a push to be less virtuosic, more pedestrian, more authentic. But at the same time, a different stream whooshed by with the companies of Graham and Ailey and Limón. They all ran side-by-side. Where would you put Lar Lubovitch, Rudy Perez, Kate Weare, Eiko and Koma, Mark Morris, Yin Yue, Camille A. Brown, and Deborah Slater? I guess what I am saying is that if it’s HONEST, if it COMMUNICATES, if it TOUCHES you and allows you to understand something, it’s wonderful. And it has always existed and will continue to exist. There are people working now who think they discovered minimalism. Well, hate to tell you, but I performed in a piece in 1974 in NYC where I reclined on a chair and applied lip gloss for 20 minutes. I believe it has all existed all the time, and we encounter what we think is “new” when we are ready to see it.

Now, on the other hand, the structure of dance companies and the financial landscape in which dance artists live has altered tremendously since the late 1960s. Don’t get me started.

What are the skills a modern dancer needs in 2020?

Not sure you are going to like this answer but here goes. Modern dancers need all the skills required to communicate through movement. Yes, I mean technical training. We expect it of musicians. We expect it of filmmakers. As a choreographer, I love working with dancers who can make my ideas come to life because they have physical facility.

But who cares about that if the person onstage is not willing to be present, accessible, and REAL? And who cares about someone who is being “genuine” if they keep stumbling and fumbling and slurring the message because they lack skill and rehearsal time?  Gotta go for both craft and magic all the time, and it will change and evolve throughout your personal artistic growth. Hopefully. That’s what keeps it so interesting.

You have to know something about the business model in which you participate. Do you want to be the dancer in someone’s company, or do you want to have the skills to help maintain the company itself? Or both? Do you have an interest in the business side of performing arts? If not, FINE. But make sure you present yourself, your work, and your collaborators in a professional way – find out what that means. If you volunteer to help with marketing, make sure you give marketing its due – it is a profession in and of itself. How would you like it if your PR person came to you and said, “I think I could choreograph for the next concert. You need another piece, right?” Make sure your administrative support skills are up to par with your artistic statement, or you may not be taken seriously.

Can you offer three questions for modern dancers around the US to consider?

• Tell me about a performance of yours that stands out in your mind. The one you can still see and feel.
• What do you think you will be doing with dance 15 years from now?
• Who inspires you? Whose concert do you never miss? And why? And how do they do that?!

Last performance you saw that really inspired you:

Liv Schaffer before going to Jacob’s Pillow last year.

Final Thoughts: Hope/belief/love of the profession:

Erick Hawkins said that everyone has a filter or lens through which they see the world.

Visual artists — light.

Musicians — sound.

Poets — language.

Dancers — movement.

He used to talk about the “small dance.” There are times when you can actually feel the molecules and atoms bombarding around inside your skin, you can hear the boom of blood. You are always in motion — the small dance. Dance on.

Joan Lazarus with her repertory group

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Artist Profile #171: Raissa Simpson (San Francisco, CA)

Photo: Matt Haber

Hometown: Cleveland, OH/San Jose, CA

Current city: San Francisco

Age: 40ish

College and degree: BFA in dance performance from SUNY Purchase

Graduate school and degree: MFA in dramatic art (directing concentration) from UC Davis

Website: pushdance.org

How you pay the bills: Artistic Director of PUSH Dance Company

All of the dance hats you wear: Accountant, Creative Director, New Media & Technology Artist, Teacher, Advisor, Grant Writer, Magic-maker and Freelance Choreographer

Non-dance work you do or have done in the past: Computer consultant (college), 6 months at a retail job, Project Director of Bay Area Dance Week, Marketing Director for Zaccho Dance Theatre, Administrative Director for Fitness in Transit

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Describe your dance life…

College: Conservatory life was like a never ending dance boot camp, but while at university, I was exposed to far greater dance forms than the ballet technique I had in high school. I also took non-dance related classes like risk management, business law, photography, computer graphics and more. Classes like dance productions (e.g. lighting design) and music theory are still useful to this day. NYC was about 30 minutes away, and it offered a great deal of exposure to professional dance companies I couldn’t have seen in California.

The first 2 years after college: About a month after graduation, my father passed away, and I had no clue how much trauma I was truly holding onto until years later. I left New York on September 1, 2001, and 10-days later 9/11 happened. Due to uncertainty and grief, I quit dancing for a year and taught at a community college. Year 2 after college led me to take a class in San Francisco. I was lost, and I stepped into a dance studio hosting the last half hour of an audition. I just remember a really nice man who allowed me to attend the audition even though I was late. I was hired and three weeks later started touring with Robert Moses’ Kin.

Five years after college: Working with PUSH in its formative years unearthed a set of social issues associated with being a Woman of Color. For purposes of this blog, I’ll occasionally refer to my choreography as “work” because it signifies my approach to have what I do be equitable and respected. As a WOC in a leadership position, I’ve chosen to bypass certain opportunities if I feel them to be degrading to women or rooted in my racial oppression. My advice to young choreographers is to do your research on the event or a presenter. Don’t worry about taking every opportunity that comes your way; I promise you that something better will arise.

Ten years after college: A turning point came in my career when I decided to find my own innovative direction in dance. That is to say, I became obsessed with forming a strong identity as an artist by putting more emphasis on developing my process over the final production and doing away with rigid professional etiquette in order to make space for ancestral ritual. For the most part, I was both acknowledging my dance lineage and distilling my cultural mixed identity as a foundation for all my works.

Now: I’ve planned where I’ll be 5 years from now but I have difficulty determining what I’m doing in the next 5 minutes.

Photo: courtesy of PUSH Dance Company

Major influences: 

Katherine Dunham managed to bridge dance technique and performance with ancestral links to spirituality found in movement. She managed to do all this during a time when most Black dancers were excluded from most segments of society including American concert dance. I also want to acknowledge a few scholars in my life who led me to research Dunham's life and writings like Halifu Osumare, Albirda Rose-Eberhardt, and Linda Goodrich. Robert Moses and Joanna Haigood definitely influenced my work as a choreographer.

Prior to shelter-in-place, what was a typical dance week like for you (teaching, rehearsing, choreographing, training, arts administration)?

A typical busy week for The Motley Experiment before getting COVID-cancelled

Saturday: Remote video and email rehearsal with Ayo Walker.

Sunday: Get ready for Monday

Monday: In-person research with Kao Vey Saephanh, JP Alejandro and Patrick Secrease. Patrick’s daughter and my son join us in rehearsal.

Tuesday: Office time. Audrey Johnson (the PUSH program assistant) and I discuss the curriculum for our student group called Pathways; marketing and other PUSH business are discussed.

Wednesdays: Pathways and PUSH Dancers are in rehearsals together. Everyone is busy with newly introduced large group segments and other breakout group tasks. In addition to Idris Ackamoor, my music collaborator attended rehearsal today.

Thursdays: PUSH Outreach Education Dance Program Day! I teach at the youth center and/or assist for the outreach program at our other sites as needed.

Fridays: A catch-all day to tie up loose ends in the choreography or start something new for smaller groups. The energy of the historic Bayview Opera House has vibrations that surge through the bodies as they sift through the space and dance.

Can you talk about when you took the leap and started your own company?

The name PUSH was born out of encouragement from a group of adult students I used to teach who had pushed me into starting my own dance company. Ironically, I wrote my undergrad thesis on how I would never become an Artistic Director of a dance company.

What are you exploring and focusing on as a choreographer right now? 

Dance life now includes a certain responsibility to the field to ensure its longevity for future generations during the COVID-19 shelter in place. My choreographic work has been done remotely via online meetings. For instance, I’m doing a bit of cultural work like contributing to the Dancing Around Race cohort -- Gerald Casel, Sammay Dizon, Yayoi Kambara, David Herrera and myself -- for a few engagements and initiatives. In addition to the pandemic, the protests against police violence and George Floyd have unearthed larger system racism issues in this country, particularly in the dance field. On the surface, the San Francisco Bay Area looks like a bastion for diversity, however it has a long legacy of upholding what the International Association for Black Dance calls in their statement, “a white supremacist aesthetic.”

In the IABD statement, they aptly describe the phenomenon of how white dance organizations are all too often quick to put out nice statements about solidarity on racism without the actual commitment needed to dismantle the white supremacy systems that put Black, Indigenous and People of Color in harm's way.  Many of us witnessed the blatant racism coming out of festival director Jim Tobin when he called systematic racism “a con job” during the Grace Cathedral incident. However, we now need to acknowledge that this case wasn’t an anomaly. I believe we need to do away with this type of performative white allyship that leaves BIPOC with the responsibility of dismantling racism. White led dance groups need to listen to BIPOC and then partake in the ongoing conversation around inclusion. I think we’re asking for accountability in the form of actionable movement to deal with these issues.  

What I find most effective about the statement is how it doesn’t claim or purport the notion that white led dance organizations didn’t know about them being complicit or part of the problem. BIPOC choreographers have been putting the topics of injustice and systematic racism in our dances for decades. We’ve been creating resistance against the status quo but the question is why are white led organizations just now waking up to racism in dance? There’s a short list to help dismantling racism in dance like changing dance diversity hiring practices (tokenism), listening to our multiple calls to end white supremacy in dance education, erasing every obstacle in place to limit BIPOC’s access to arts funding, and acknowledging the cultural incompetency from gatekeepers like directors, staff and dance critics. BIPOC are exhausted because we’ve been working to end our own oppression. We don’t need white allies; we need accomplices to actually stand with us to build equitable inclusion in the dance field.

Photo: Michael Short

Can you talk about starting PUSHfest and its growth over the years? What do you love most about the festival? What are some of the challenges?

PUSHfest gathers choreographers spanning across varying dance geographies, genres and age groups. The festival now has a mentorship program between established and emerging choreographers and PUSHLab, its educational performance workshop. Each year a new round of panelists select the participants, and I advise on the overall curation of the festival. If you’ve never been to the festival in the past, I think what you’ll find is the concept of inclusivity as it relates to representing the depth of culture and diversity in the dance field.

What I love about the festival is how it always feels like a homecoming or reunion for the choreographers, performers and audiences. I try to visit as many tech rehearsals as possible before the show opens. For me personally, there’s always this sense of pluralized individuality that then manifests itself into a genuine feeling of unity at the close of the whole festival. I also love how the audience engages with each work through the peer voting system we have called the PUSHfest Audience Choice Awards. With multiple programs (usually two to four), we thought to have one choreographer from each program have a chance to be awarded the honor.

One challenge for the festival is the panelist process because the perceived notion of what professionalism is and how it’s defined can hurt some of the applicants. Enhancing the list of amazing choreographers we’ve had is important, but we must also make an effort to support emerging artists more who aren’t necessarily performance ready. I believe it is the role of a presenter or responsibility of a presenting organization to accept divisionary opinions and acknowledge one’s own biases.

Current training practices and care of the body: 

During this shelter-in-place, my daily practice includes purification of the heart techniques found in eating chocolate, drinking Hojicha (tea) and fitting in 15 minutes of a KuKuwa workout. Oh yes, and taking down systematic racism.

Last shows you saw that inspired you: 

Chloe Arnold’s piece at Black Choreographers Festival, Akram Khan’s solo at Zellerbach Hall, and Netta Yerushalmy’s "Paramodernities" online.

On being an artist and being a parent:

Parenthood is another form of choreography. When I took my baby to PUSH's Aspen Fringe Festival/Dance Carbondale residency performance in Colorado, we both caught a 24-hour stomach bug and ended up in the hospital. Perhaps the hardest thing for any mother is to be sick while simultaneously taking care of your sick child. It was possibly one of the worst things that could’ve happened to us at the time, but we made it out okay. I used to view parenting as a single step of just working while someone else (e.g. daycare) took care of the child. However, this experience has shown me to not separate my life/work as a choreographer from being a mother.

Most days of being a Mom-Choreographer means working in increments, creating time for cuddling and a lot of big picture thinking. Luckily, I was already set in my career when I became a parent so I didn’t necessarily have to worry about my job outlook. I’m constantly searching for balance in my life. Nevermind worrying about balance because that’s just a social construct that doesn’t exist. What I now have is a responsive relationship because once I figure out the formula for parenting... the formula changes.

Advice to dancers moving to the San Francisco Bay Area: 

Find a mentor. Dance leaders in the Bay range from nurturing to upright blunt personalities. Don’t be afraid to reach out to us; it may only cost you a cup of tea.

Final thoughts: Hope/belief/love of the profession:

Now more than ever is the time to dance.

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Artist Profile #170: Mark Travis Rivera (Oakland, CA)

Hometown: Paterson, New Jersey

Current city: Oakland, California

Age: 29

College and degree: William Paterson University of New Jersey; B.A in Women’s and Gender Studies with a minor in Public Relations

How you pay the bills: Arts administrator by day, writer and choreographer by night

All of the dance hats you wear: Community Engagement Manager for AXIS Dance Company, founder of marked dance project, and choreographer

Non-dance work you do or have done in the past: Marketing for higher education, author of Drafts: An Imperfect Collection of Writing  

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Describe your dance life…

High school: As a disabled person, I was not introduced to dance early in life. It wasn’t until high school that I met my first dance teacher, Erin Pride, at Rosa L. Parks School of Fine and Performing Arts in Paterson, New Jersey. Born prematurely, I developed Cerebral Palsy at birth, and it impacted my mobility from a young age. During my freshman year at Rosa Parks, I sat in the back of the theater watching the dance majors rehearse. I remember being in awe of them. Around that time, I was grieving the loss of my brother who had been murdered in upstate New York. His death pushed me to live life authentically. Because of his passing, I came out of the closet as gay and later gender nonconforming, and pursued my interest in dance.  

I remember approaching Erin as an awkward teenager, asking her if I could take class. I would skip gym class to dance. At the age of 17 and after a couple of years of training under Erin Pride, I founded marked dance project, a contemporary dance company for disabled and non-disabled dancers. I became the youngest person in the United States to ever found and artistically direct a physically integrated dance company. Having done a Google search, I discovered Judy Smith and her work with AXIS Dance Company and Mary Verdi-Fletcher of Dancing Wheels. With the help of Erin, MDP would go on to commission about six choreographers for our first season before I discovered my own love of choreography. 

College: As a first generation college student, I didn’t have any examples of what it meant to go to college in my immediate family. There was no blueprint for me, and I would have to navigate a lot of it on my own. I was a creative thinker who struggled throughout high school academically but managed to score pretty well on the SATs. My strong SATs got me into a college program called Educational Opportunity Fund (EOF) at William Paterson University of New Jersey which is a program for low socio-economic students, many who are first in their families to go to college. Having barely made it into the program, I made a promise to Carmen Ortiz, the program’s director, that I would be a great college student. 

During my freshman year, marked dance project became a company-in-residency at William Paterson, and that’s when we really blossomed as a company with support and resources from the Student Government Association. Our education programming, The Movement Series, offered students and the general public free master classes with a variety of choreographers and dance educators such as Marinda Davis, Stacey Tookey, Tyce Diorio, Todrick Hall and many more. We would also go on to produce shows at William Paterson that would bring concert dance to the community since WP doesn’t have a dance program. 

The first 2 years after college: Like many first generation students, I wasn’t sure what my life would look like after college. I became a staff person at William Paterson, overseeing communication and marketing for a new office that had been developed. This prepared me for a full-time social media marketing position at John Jay College of Criminal Justice, where I worked for nearly four years. During this time, I was able to bring marked dance project to campus with a production and various programming, integrating my day job with my passion for dance. Although I loved working with students, I realized that my passion wasn’t in marketing, and that led me to dare greatly and jump ship and move across the country to California. 

Now: While I never imagined that I would be doing dance work full-time, I knew that I had an opportunity of a lifetime to join AXIS Dance Company as their next Community Engagement Manager, and I was so excited to return to the Bay Area. Back in 2013, Judy gave me the opportunity to serve as an AXIS Apprentice, which introduced me to the world of AXIS. I was blown away by my experience, and I knew it would be the right next step for me in my career. Now in the position for over a year, I’ve learned so much about arts administration and what it takes to keep a company like AXIS running. In addition to my work at AXIS, I have been commissioned by Shawl-Anderson Dance Center for its inaugural Queering Dance Festival and by Fresh Meat Production’s FRESH WORKS grant program. I am also focusing on writing a new collection of poetry and essays. 

"The Wait" choreographed by Mark Travis Rivera. Photo by Andrew Fassbende.

Major influences: 

Although I never got to meet them, I am deeply influenced by the work of Alvin Ailey and Martha Graham. As a disabled choreographer, I am deeply moved by Graham’s quote, “Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion.” I remind myself every time I am working on a new project that my passion for dance is what will be felt and remembered by those who view my work. I am also influenced by the research and work of Dr. Brené Brown, who studies shame, vulnerability, and courage. I first discovered her work while I was living in the Bay Area in 2013, and it fundamentally changed my life.     

What are you exploring and focusing on as a choreographer right now? 

For a while I was focusing on a new duet inspired by my relationship with my mother, for the Fresh Meat Festival, but that’s been postponed due to COVID-19. So I will keep that in my back pocket for a later opportunity. I also began doing research for what I hope will be my next group piece, focusing on support groups and mental health in the queer community. My work always tell a story-- whether that story is inspired by my own life or the lives of those I care about. I hope that once we find our new normal, post COVID-19, that I will have more opportunities to create work in the Bay Area.          

What do you love about arts administration? How do you bring your choreographic mindset into the work at AXIS?

What I love about arts administration is that it allows me to do work that is more closely aligned with my passion: dance. I get to support artists and work on programs that directly impact disabled and non-disabled people.  

Current training practices and care of the body: 

I speak openly about my mental health journey and the role that therapy has played in my life for the last ten years. So a big way that I take care of myself is by going to therapy regularly and even support groups for those who have depression and/or bipolar disorder. To care for my body, before COVID-19, I would take yoga class once a week and the occasional dance class. 

"The Wait" choreographed by Mark Travis Rivera. Photo by Andrew Fassbende.

Last show you saw that inspired you: 

I had a chance to watch my colleague and friend Sonsherée Giles perform in a show with choreographer Nancy Karp right before shelter-in-place went into effect, and I was deeply moved by the work. It reminded me of my modern dance roots, and it was simple yet beautiful to watch. As a choreographer, I tend to always want a story in my work and rarely ever do abstract work, but Karp’s choreography reminded me of my roots in modern dance and it was refreshing to experience movement for movement's sake. 

Non-dance activities, hobbies, and service work important to you: 

Before I became a dancer and choreographer, I was a writer, so writing continues to play an important part of my life. My first collection, Drafts: An Imperfect Collection of Writing, is available for purchase exclusively on Amazon. I also really enjoy reading books, and I am getting back into a practice of reading more regularly. As a queer person, LGBTQ+ advocacy is important to me so I devote time to community building, public speaking, and presenting about the issues that impact LGBTQ+ people. 

Advice to dancers interested in getting into arts administration: 

My biggest advice to dancers who are interested in getting into art administration is that it will require you to use a different part of your brain, and while the work is creative, it is different. I find it fulfilling to have a “day job” that is within the field I am most passionate about and find the work fulfilling but it is still work-- some days will be harder than others. 

Final thoughts: Hope/belief/love of the profession:

My life could have taken a different direction had I not discovered dance. I am thankful for the opportunities I have been given and love being a choreographer. My hope is that other disabled children get to see themselves reflected in the work that AXIS, Dancing Wheels, Full Radius, Heidi Latsky Dance, and others so that we raise a generation of dancers that defy expectations. My belief is that everyone should have the opportunity to move their body, to profess their love for storytelling through movement. I love being a disabled choreographer, and I can’t wait to see how we find our way back to each other after COVID-19. 

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Post #3 for the Virtual Book Group (How to Land by Ann Cooper Albright)

During the past 3 weeks, dancers throughout the country have been reading How to Land: Finding Ground in an Unstable World by Ann Cooper Albright. Please follow the Comments thread here, and please consider getting the book and diving in anytime!

For today, we were aiming to read Chapter 4 (Gravity) and Chapter 5 (Resilience). I want to name how full and tumultuous life is right now, and it is completely fine if you are not through Chapter 5 yet!

Today I want to encourage all readers of the book to share where they are at with the book and what is most resonating for them in this moment of time. It could be a specific passage, or it could be more macro....discussing the intersection of this book with your life right now in June 2020. Experiencing How to Land as you navigate the pandemic and grapple with racial violence and unrest in our communities...

 

Everyone is welcome to tune in, in one week, as we meet together on Zoom and talk with the author! This will be Wednesday, June 17th at 3pm PDT. Link to follow.

Some book buying options:

Books Inc in the SF Bay Area

The King's English Bookshop in Salt Lake City

Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn

Amazon.com (paperback and e-book)

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GUSHing Stories, Joe Goode Performance Group’s Virtual Platform Experience

GUSHing Stories, Joe Goode Performance Group’s Virtual Platform Experience

By Garth Grimball

 

Imagine a platform. What do you do on it? What is your body doing? Does it feel spacious? Or is it contained?

Imagine a virtual platform. What do you do on it? What is your body doing? Does it feel spacious? Or is it contained?

May 26-31, 2020, in the era of COVID-19, Joe Goode Performance Group produced the virtual festival GUSH. Originally meant as a 3 week live-in-person experience, GUSH transformed into a physical-distancing adherent weeklong Zoomfest featuring works and discussions by Joe Goode, Gerald Casel, and NAKA Dance Theater. GUSH is a “scaled-back, virtual platform,” the festival site informs us in bold. Expectations adjust accordingly. Like all virtual platforms we are subject to the limitations of the frame. Those four angles that democratize access and dictate content.

I attended 7 of the 10 festival events. I missed a movement class led by Goode, the opening virtual dance party and the closing feedback session with local artists. This is my first review since the coronavirus pandemic; my first review of an online dance experience, or, an online experience made by dancers. This assignment came from my editor with an interest in what audience engagement feels/looks like in shelter-in-place. In two of the seven events I was able to see the number of attendees. The in-time barometer of engagement that translates either interest or internet connection. The loneliness of my solitaire engagement is the foundation for my perspective on audience engagement. 

Two of the events were performances in the way we conceive of live dance, NAKA Dance Theater’s BUSCARTE and Joe Goode Performance Group’s “Queer Realities.” BUSCARTE is an ongoing research and performance project contemplating the 43 forcibly disappeared students from Ayotzinapa Teachers’ College in Iguala, Guerrero, Mexico in 2014. The version performed as part of the festival utilized the limitations of a virtual platform intentionally and unintentionally. Performed by NAKA Dance Theater’s co-directors, José Navarrete and Debby Kajiyama, the duet exists in a space-time collage. Navarrete and Kajiyama’s bodies move across backdrops and backgrounds from the reality of where they stand in their respective physical spaces to the irreality and surreality of a virtual void. Their use of texture and depth is painterly in perspective making. Navarrete moves behind a semi-translucent plastic sheet. He’s a shadow bleeding through another layer of separation. Photography and visual imagery fill the screen. There is music and voice over. For the voice over there are sign language interpreters (present in every festival event). In Zoom you never know where your box is in proximity to the tetris of shifting action and attendance. During BUSCARTE the visual primacy of interpreting was in flux. Sometimes at the top of the screen, other times at the bottom, the screen relationship between the “performance” and the “interpretation” became a meta commentary on translation. Within a virtual platform there is less control of the relationship between the viewer and the performer. Yet, there is an added opportunity to expand what it means to see and define performing. The limitations in format support creating new visual languages and meanings in dance making.

Joe Goode’s “Queer Realities” is an anthology of excerpts highlighting his mission of exploring queerness and queer lives. Each lasting a few minutes, Goode selected monologues and a dialogue from his archive (2002, 2009, 2012, 2017, respectively) and repurposed them to fit the digital medium. Archives take on new meaning in pandemic realities. Rather than being reproduced as a strict re-creation, archives are activated as a supply to meet the demands of the virtual experience. Goode is known for his subtle humor, and I appreciated the physical comedy present in the quartet Traveling Light. Each of the four performers begin hyper close to the lens; a mishap or misinterpretation common to video communication tools. A blur of epidermis abstracting bodies. The final monologue, When We Fall Apart performed by Goode, is an inventive interplay of weight. As Goode speaks, a framed bust in front of a photograph of clouds, he places sticks and stones (again, humor) in front of him obscuring our view. Within a digital landscape we must imagine the tactility of the objects for they could be as mutable as the clouds.

The majority of the festival was conversation based. Casel led a workshop as part of his ongoing project Dancing Around Race, addressing systemic racial inequality and discussions on alternative futures. He also moderated a behind the scenes look into creating Not About Race Dance, sharing clips of rehearsals and insights from the collaborators and performers. NAKA Dance Theater hosted two conversations: addressing femicide in Mexico with Rosa-Linda Fregoso and members of Mujeres Unidas y Activas and a dialogue with Omar Garcia, a survivor of the student massacre of September 26, 2014 in Iguala, Guerrero, Mexico. Goode, Casel, Navarrete and Kajiyama all shared letters written to their respective aesthetics. GUSH was a storytelling experience. Ethnography, interview, conversation, dialogue all present as living qualitative research on being and moving and embodying. Storytelling necessitated by a global pandemic. Dialogues on and within the context of racism and racist murders destroying black and brown lives and spirits. Within the many Q&A sessions there was the tension of a desperation to connect, to share and be together again, and questioning the value of a performance festival when we are taking to the streets to demand and enact justice and change.

Language is critical. Language is limiting. One of the things I love most about dance is its separation from verbal language. A way to be and express without talking. Words are necessary to galvanize, to inspire, to build movements. Words are monetized, branded, stripped of their original intent, hollowed out by repetition. I missed the final session of the festival to attend a march for George Floyd. Before the march students from Oakland Technical High School stood on a physical platform, shared their stories, demanded justice and led 15,000 bodies in a peaceful protest against police violence. A platform, real or virtual, is crucial for connection, for change.

 

Garth Grimball is a writer and dance artist based in Oakland, CA.

 

 

Several GUSH events and dances made for the festival are now available on demand on Joe Goode Performance Group's YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCuLoZ40ELMMEmzfw6QJK0EQ.

Post #2 for the Virtual Book Group (How to Land by Ann Cooper Albright)

During the past 2 weeks, dancers throughout the country have been reading How to Land: Finding Ground in an Unstable World by Ann Cooper Albright. Please follow the Comments thread here, and please consider getting the book and diving in next week as well!

For today, we read Chapter 2 (Disorientation) and Chapter 3 (Suspension):

1. Scan back through Chapter 2. What are 2 or 3 phrases or quotes that resonated for you? Throughout this chapter, my mind kept coming back to Shelter in Place and the disorientation of this time. What connections did you also make between SIP and Chapter 2?
2. Chapter 3 is on Suspension. Again, what 1-3 phrases were meaningful and potent for you? Thank you for adding comments below.

 

There is still time to join the group! We will have these small weekly check-ins on the blog, sharing notes, and then will meet the last day through Zoom on Wed, June 17th at 3pm PST.

Some book buying options:

Books Inc in the SF Bay Area

The King's English Bookshop in Salt Lake City

Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn

Amazon.com (paperback and e-book)

The reading/discussion/comment timeline:

Wednesday, May 27th: Introduction and Chapter 1 (Falling); 48 pages

Wednesday, June 3rd: Chapters 2 and 3 (Disorientation and Suspension); 57 pages

Wednesday, June 10th: Chapters 4 and 5 (Gravity and Resilience); 61 pages

Wednesday, June 17th: Chapter 6 and Afterword (Connection); 38 pages

The May Recap: On Life as a Modern Dancer, and Beyond

Jae Neal. Photo: Aeric Meredith-Goujon. Read Jae's Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary here.

 

From Blog Director Jill Randall:

It's been another long month in shelter-in-place. I hope that you and your family are safe and healthy.

My heart is so heavy processing all of the recent racial injustices in our country. Thank you to Dance/NYC for this open letter, which helps articulate many feelings I have right now as a white arts administrator. There is so much to say and to do. Lots of personal work reading, reflecting, and talking with my family right now. I welcome your ideas and feedback about equity and inclusion for this website and how we can use this platform for dialogue, support, and change. 

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In May, five artists wrote Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionaries:

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Leah Cox

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Jae Neal

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Raja Feather Kelly

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Colleen Thomas

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Christy Funsch

 

On May 5th, I finished the Movement Poem project, publishing a total of 52 poems, to use as springboards for improvising and choreographing. Check them all out here.

I also was happy to get back into the Artist Profiles on the site with Liv Schaffer's post. Stay tuned this week for new profiles from Mark Travis Rivera, Joan Lazarus, and Raissa Simpson. 169 artists have been highlighted over the past 7 years.

And, heading into some new territory for writing and reflection, check out the writing of Sima Belmar about an online performance during shelter-in-place: Redefining Solo.

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In May, I published a few pieces through dance-teacher.com and medium.com:

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago's Dance Lab for Teens Continues Even During Shelter-in-Place (Dance Teacher)

A Letter to Graduating Dance Majors (Medium)

New Curatorial Practices: Online Dance Performances (Medium)

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Additionally, here are some colleagues' pieces I wanted to highlight:

Creating New Futures: Working Guidelines for Ethics & Equity in Presenting Dance & Performance (living document)

Has Anyone Asked Artists What They Need? - Raja Feather Kelly (Dance Magazine)

Committing to a Pedagogy Check - Joshua Block (Teachers College Press)

The Joy of Caring for Others - Ross Gay (NY Times)

"Screw The Audience!" - David Gray former Executive Director of the Pennsylvania Ballet and American Repertory Ballet Speaks Out (Dance Enthusiast)

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Post #1 for the Virtual Book Group (How to Land by Ann Cooper Albright)

During the past week, dancers throughout the country began reading How to Land: Finding Ground in an Unstable World by Ann Cooper Albright. Please follow the Comments thread here, and please consider getting the book and diving in next week as well!

For today, we read the Introduction and the first chapter, Falling. Readers - I encourage you to come back to this thread 2-3 times today to add into the conversation. Thank you!

1. Within this dense text, there are many potent phrases to hold onto and consider right now. Post a few ideas here and list the page numbers please. You can simply post quotes - or add your connections with each quote you share or that someone else has posted here.
2. I love how Ann Cooper Albright plays with the concept of falling - writing about the literal and the metaphoric, and also our associations both positive and negative related to falling. How does the concept of "falling" play out in your dance life as teachers, choreographers, movers, and administrators? How do you relate to this word - falling - during this pandemic and Shelter in Place?
3. Feel free to also simply write a few sentences about your general response and reaction to chapter 1. What did you connect with, and what resonated?

Some book buying options:

Books Inc in the SF Bay Area

The King's English Bookshop in Salt Lake City

Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn

Amazon.com (paperback and e-book)

The reading/discussion/comment timeline:

Wednesday, May 27th: Introduction and Chapter 1 (Falling); 48 pages

Wednesday, June 3rd: Chapters 2 and 3 (Disorientation and Suspension); 57 pages

Wednesday, June 10th: Chapters 4 and 5 (Gravity and Resilience); 61 pages

Wednesday, June 17th: Chapter 6 and Afterword (Connection); 38 pages

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Artist Profile #169: Liv Schaffer (Oakland, CA)

Photo: Liv Schaffer

Hometown: Algonquin, IL (Northwest suburbs of Chicago)

Current city: Oakland, CA

Age: 29

College and degree: Bachelors of Fine Arts from Alonzo King LINES Ballet BFA Program at Dominican University of California

How you pay the bills: Adjunct and administrative positions with University of San Francisco and Dominican University, studio classes, and private lessons

All of the dance hats you wear: Performer, Teacher/Professor, Choreographer, Community Engaged Artist/Facilitator, Administrator, and Audience Member

Non-dance work you do or have done in the past: Hospitality, Retail, Personal Assistant

Website: aliviaschaffer.com
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Describe your dance life…
 
High school: 
In high school, I danced 5-6 days per week at a small ballet studio in the suburbs focusing on The Nutcracker each Fall, other full length ballets in the Spring and more creative and alternative classes each summer. My year round training consisted of Ballet, Pointe, Variations, Modern, Jazz, Character, and lots of rehearsals for new work and studio company repertoire. As I began high school, a trusted teacher of mine invited me to join her over the August breaks to take the train into the city to attend open professional level ballet class. Through these journeys downtown, I became exposed to Lou Conte Dance Center/Hubbard Street, Luna Negra, Thodos Dance Chicago, Giordano, Deeply Rooted, Ruth Page Center for the Arts, and others. My identity as a Modern, then Contemporary, dancer began to form as I spent many long weekend or summer workshops immersed in the language of these vibrant Chicago-based dance companies. All the while, my loving and supportive parents were driving or training in with me and treating me to city walks and mango smoothies post sessions.

I visited San Francisco for the first time to attend the LINES Ballet Summer Program, and fell in love SF and Alonzo’s emphasis on artistry and working internally to create aesthetic. I was elated by the freedom to wear whatever I felt comfortable moving in to class. By my Senior year of high school, I had my college plans in place by November, I had graduated from public school a semester early, and opted to study more full time downtown instead of with my youth ballet studio to finish out the Spring semester while I took care of a parent who was ill at the time. I was always kind of the black sheep at the ballet studio; a little too over weight, outspoken, and excelled in the less classical roles. I was well ready to let myself grow in that direction.

College: 
I attended the LINES BFA Program from 2009-2013, straddling Dominican’s Marin campus and LINES’ San Francisco studios. This conservatory style program had its complete Freshman through Senior classes for the first time when my class arrived in the Fall of 2009. I loved feeling like I was a part of building a new program. We took a Contemporary Ballet class each morning followed by Modern or Gyrotonic®️ classes. Semesters were sprinkled with improvisation, Gaga, and composition courses that nurtured our explorative sides. We performed in original works by in-house and guest choreographers each semester, and created our own concert work in our final year. I performed and presented work at ACDA. I met and lived with some of my best friends. I traveled regularly as a student volunteer with the JUNTOS Collective to various countries in Central America, using dance as a bridge across cultural barriers in workshop and performance settings. A lightbulb switched on in my head - dance as social service?!

Academics pared down as the four years went by, leaving myself and a lot of my peers finishing the program spending less time on DU campus and more time at LINES. I felt like a dancer in the local scene, and it was a nice transition into an active arts community. I studied Arts Management until the loss of my Dad during the Spring semester of my Freshman year had me searching for something deeper. I ended up studying Religion, and was influenced deeply by the Professor who stewarded my Minor in Religious Studies, Gay Lynch. She taught a class on Spiritual Expression, framing bodies as catalysts for spiritual change and vessels for religious meaning. This rich scholarship on embodiment paired with the program’s concert rigor and small class sizes made for a special and safe four years for me to take risks, build networks, and work hard amidst my grief-stricken heart.

The first 2 years after college: 
My first 2 years after college were spent as a company member with DanceWorks Chicago under the Direction of Julie Nakagawa. DanceWorks is a rich laboratory style dance company providing early career artists with the training, collaboration, mentorship, and performance necessary to propel themselves into the field. Julie’s leadership style laid profound groundwork for my dance ethics. I identified my professional identity and voice. I felt appreciated and challenged to grow. I simply cannot say enough about this organization and the thoughtfulness it infuses into its artists. We toured nationally and internationally, performed at esteemed local venues, and overall I really felt like I had "made it" and achieved what I had always hoped for. Because of that I felt a sense of relief and relaxation that carried into the rest of my career pursuits. Lucky enough for me, being in Chicago also allowed me to take care of my Mom during her end of life and share this achievement with her. She was always my biggest fan, and there was some bit of closure knowing she could see me reach that goal before leaving this life. She passed away a year after I graduated, in between my two seasons at DanceWorks. Again, I was caught and held by a dance family during grief. I leaned further into my work as a home for my loss.

Now: 
Currently, I perform with Robert Moses’ Kin, Dance Exchange, and in my own work. I wear a few hats working at USF: teaching Contemporary Dance, directing an on-campus intergenerational dance company called Dance Generators, assisting with production and administration, and choreographing new works for semester culminating concerts. This year, I had been working on a new piece that connected my work at USF with my personal choreographic endeavors. I had cast undergraduate students, older adults, and professional dancers in the same work. I developed it during residencies at Jacob’s Pillow and throughout the beginnings of my time as a Margaret Jenkins Dance Company CHIME 2020 Mentee - we were set to premiere excerpts at USF and in full at Shawl-Anderson Dance Center just last week! Though the shows were all canceled, I continue to engage the cast through virtual intergenerational dance classes via Zoom, and through humble and distanced creative projects. We are caring for each other through creating together with no pressure to produce, making an investment in a different pace of research than we typically work at. I will spend my summer doing some online teaching and preparing for the classes I teach in the Fall. I will rest, cook, dance at home, and tend to my mental health.

Photo by Robbie Sweeny courtesy of University of San Francisco. Dance Generators performing Liv’s work, Mütterland, at USF’s Presentation Theater April 2019. Dancers: Cecilia London, Laura Trupin, Kathleen Moore, Ann DiFruscia, Nancy Mossa, Shelley Richanbach, Kate Carter and Leah Hanley.

Major influences: 
My colleagues and mentors from Jacob’s Pillow - Elizabeth Johnson, Margot Greenlee, and Celeste Miller. My past boss from DanceWorks, Julie Nakagawa. My colleagues/friends/collaborators whom I admire. The communities I serve. The people who make up the various teams I work within daily. I’m influenced by what I think my mom would have said in a particular situation.

Prior to shelter in place, what was a typical dance week like for you (teaching, rehearsing, choreographing, training)?
Two days per week I would typically head to USF for full 10-12 hour days of physical and computer work. Other days were spent rehearsing for upcoming shows, personal training (yoga, taking class at Shawl-Anderson or LINES usually, going to the gym), and facilitating movement classes in a variety of senior centers or other community venues. I teach a weekly adult ballet class at SADC and fill remaining hours with the unending amount of personal administration and networking list items. Beyond that, I try my best to keep big chunks of time free to spend unplugged and connecting with my loved ones, resting, finding joy, or playing.

What are you exploring and focusing on as a performer right now? 
I rely heavily on interaction with audience in my performance, almost flirtatiously taking the temperature of the audience experience in ways that are sometimes funny and sometimes tender. I am wondering how to continue exercising those skills over digital or distanced platforms. What new skills will these platforms help us develop? What may we be able to intuit after a year’s time working digitally?

How about as a choreographer?
Who am I responsible to right now? Who would benefit from being engaged in a choreographic process right now? How can I sustain my collaborators? What does my work look like during the pandemic? A creative outdoor performance? Film? What do I need from my collaborators while we’re in a digital room? What do they need from me? What does rigor look like when creating while sheltering in place? Who is our online content truly for? I’m excited by the nature of our current state dissolving some preexisting rules and thus making more space for innovation. I am creating between the intimate and digitally exposed each day. I feel a need for both.

Photo by Grace Kathryn Landefeld courtesy of Jacob’s Pillow. Liv’s work Saludo being performed at Jacob’s Pillow Inside/Out August 2019. Dancers: Juliann Witt, Claire Fisher, Hayley Bowman, Alexis Staley, Cora Cliburn.

What does the phrase “teaching artist” mean to you?
I actually find that phrase often belittled in our field. Since working in arts integration and medical humanities programming with Jacob’s Pillow, I have been referred to as a “Community Engagement Artist,” which I prefer. Community Engagement Artist emphasizes the artistic vision and inquiry that I bring to a community. It allows tailored intimacy at the intersection of my personal artistry and the needs of the community I’m serving. I have been titled as a teaching artist in the past, and have been okay with it - each organization is different, and I’m happy to go with the flow. Ultimately, the title doesn’t matter much to me when not looking at the resume - my practice will likely be the same: my work as a choreographer, educator, and performer are all present as keepers, receivers, and exchangers of knowledge in the room. They all inform each other, and the communities I’m working with are informing each of them as well. Teaching Artist or Community Engagement Artist work is oftentimes a sub project of the work being produced that checks a grant friendly box. I am curious about how community engaged dance practices and experiences can shape concert product and ethos in meaningful ways.
 
Current training practices and care of the body: 
Finding a consistent sleep rhythm, being gentle with myself, taking friends’ yoga classes on Zoom, circuit workouts, small improvisations around the house, long walks.

Last show you saw that inspired you:
Margaret Jenkins CHIME Encounters Over 60 with Vicky Shick (see links below). I loved knowing the work was made so quickly; I loved absorbing the aesthetic from another geographic location and generation. Working as a CHIME Mentee during Encounters Over 60 has allowed for such a meaningful feeling of legacy and belonging to a broader dance lineage.

Non-dance activities, hobbies, and service work important to you: 
Painting, social time with friends, Burning Man community, playing frisbee, riding my bike, journaling.

Advice to dancers moving to the San Francisco Bay Area: 
Closed mouths are rarely fed. Reach out to people whose work you want to perform, or whose work interests you. Ask questions. Be the kind of dancer/human you want to cross paths with - this includes in the dressing rooms, lobbies, in emails, etc. Networking is a long haul game, so plant seeds with no expectations for immediate sowing, yet be open to unexpected harvest in time. There are a lot of doors to the same party; don’t be afraid to trailblaze.

Final thoughts: Hope/belief/love of the profession:
This profession has given me a relationship and connection to my body that predates shelter in place, meaning those of us lucky enough to dance regularly have some great tools for engaging our bodies during this uncertain time and in the face of trauma. I’ve always seen my work as a digestive container for my personal history, and its feeling amplified now. I am grateful.

Photo by Hilary Goidell . Liv and fellow SADC Dance Up Close/East Bay artist, Dazaun Soleyn, during a photoshoot for their canceled May 2020 performances. 

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Related posts:

Encounters Over 60 with Vicky Shick (Continuing to work on what you're working on - Megan Nicely)

Encounters with Vicky Shick - Valerie Gutwirth

Redefining Solo - Sima Belmar

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Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Leah Cox

Photo by Makayla Ferrick

 

Self space:

The generalized physical space that I take for granted, which is near enough to me to be mistaken for me or mine.  Self space is not a term of occupation, but imagination and spirit.  Where do I end?  How much do I encompass/encompasses me? 

Or

Where a person can take a time out.

Or

Where a person might collapse inward to feel the vastness of what is within; a wormhole into endless mystery. 

 

General space:

The space that I (incorrectly) consider not me, that I move in and perhaps take for granted as unremarkable or capable of being made remarkable only by my actions.  (As in, I must activate the space in order for it to be distinct.  Perhaps it only needs me to listen to it more carefully.)

Or

All that exists that supports me, with great love and abundance.

Or

Everything that has not been attended to and is cursed with an assumption of undifferentiated blandness. 

 

Proximity:

A measure of distance that organizes around the concept of nearness, as opposed to farness. 

Or

The distance I hold an object or idea in order for it to be maximally potent.  This might require drawing nearer to something or giving something distance.  What is the proximity of certain ideas that I regard as core to me, or the proximity of my daughter’s first drawing at any given moment? 

 

Solo practice:

An act of mental deception in which I pretend I am alone. 

Or

A spiritual practice of differentiation in which I prepare to walk alone into the abyss.

Or

A practice of aloneness that results in the recognition of and Great Feeling for everything that I cannot separate from. 

 

Rigor:

Disciplined practices of intensity engaged in regularly and regardless of desire. 

Or

The relentless, dogged approach to tasks that must be employed for a person to experience transcendence or extreme release into unknown bliss. 

 

Unison:

Many people giving up all their ego shit so as to become lock-step with others, perhaps resulting in a state of communitas.

Or

The state of being together in such deep harmony that we all become blurred and perhaps more like One than many. 

 

Audience:

Those who engage in deep witnessing of an event created by other people, and do so together, with complete strangers, close friends, lovers, frenemies, and acquaintances.

Or

Pleasure addicts who get their fix of bliss by witnessing acts of human creativity, the sublime, and the really unreal. 

 

Feedback:

The undercurrent of sensational and linguistic chatter in my brain and body that exists every moment of my life and founds the impulse to get wiser in general so as to upgrade the quality of chatter that’s bouncing around in me at any given hour.

 

Documentation:

The movements of a person’s body, the practices they make habitual, and the ideas they allow to recur and flow out of themselves, all of which form patterns that are indisputably present and evident.  This archival practice occurs regardless of whether a person is consciously enacting it. 

(Said at a whisper: Indelible imprints occurring all the time.)

And so

How can I become more aware of all that I have documented in my heart, my bones, my movements?  The actions keep slipping away before I can grasp them; I cannot become conscious enough to appreciate it all.  I am not yet wise enough, so onward I go! 

 

These definitions are documentation of my state of being and thinking in this moment… for now…

 

 

Leah Cox is Dean of the American Dance Festival, Associate Professor of Dance at the University of Texas at Austin, and a dancer in Liz Lerman’s latest project, Wicked Bodies. In these unusual times, her house has turned into a nursery, preschool, and offsite satellite for higher education and remotely realized summer intensive learning experiences. She shelters-in-place with her husband, four-year-old daughter, and seven-month-old son. 

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Related posts:

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Jae Neal

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Raja Feather Kelly

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Colleen Thomas

Shelter-in-Place Dance Dictionary: Christy Funsch

 

Studio Practice/Studio Time: Leah Cox

Featured Artist on the Blog: Leah Cox

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Virtual Book Group: How to Land by Ann Cooper Albright

I have wanted to read this book for a few months, and I thought that now is the time! Can you join me? We will do a few weeks of an online check-in through my blog, and then the final session might be a Zoom call to talk about the book as a whole.

How to Land: Finding Ground in an Unstable World foregrounds the importance of embodiment as a means of surviving the disorientation of our twenty-first century world. Linking somatics and politics, author Ann Cooper Albright argues that a renewed attention to gravity as both a metaphoric sensibility and a physical experience can help transform moments of personal disorientation into an opportunity to reflect on the important relationship between individual resiliency and communal responsibility. (From The King's English Bookshop website)

 

Some buying options:

Books Inc in the SF Bay Area

The King's English Bookshop in Salt Lake City

Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn

Amazon.com (paperback and e-book)

 

Here is the reading/discussion/comment timeline:

Wednesday, May 27th: Introduction and Chapter 1 (Falling); 48 pages

Wednesday, June 3rd: Chapters 2 and 3 (Disorientation and Suspension); 57 pages

Wednesday, June 10th: Chapters 4 and 5 (Gravity and Resilience); 61 pages

Wednesday, June 17th: Chapter 6 and Afterword (Connection); 38 pages

 

If you can join in, please make a comment below. Thank you!

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