Monday morning... I wake up at Karl's place after my first good night's sleep in a week... I wake up sick, a nasty throat, most likely from not sleeping and go-go-going since last week:
Get the grades in - jump on the (wrong) train to Frankfurt - fly to London - fly to New York - wake up at 5 every morning - scout some rock bands at the knitting factory - Eat plenty of tacos - drive up to beacon - buy plane ticket to indiana - drive back to New York three hours later - raid friends' record collections for Toni&Tom's wedding - get up early friday to knock the last long training run down - don't sleep - see Madeline - See the Zubas - See Eric & Addie - See Raul the Jewel - grab a quick drink with Isadora - hear all about it - get second winds at strange hours - realize I'm eating a lot of junk food - load in, set up, dj party, break down, load out - spend sunday brunch-hopping in a steady rain - sneak in a recovery run at dusk - come home to sunday night sushi and a brilliant bottle of saki ("Wandering Poet") with Karl - eyelids drooping by 10:00 - attempt to load pictures of Wandering Poet and sweet-cured black beans - realize the new computer doesn't have my camera software - figure MoC readers can settle for a pic-free post if I promise to hit them up later.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Don't expect a standing ovation
say the Buddhist teachers...
but do enjoy the applause.
Taking a bow last night at the opera premiere with, from left to right, the set designer, director, lead singer, costume designer and conductor.
Friday, September 18, 2009
lure and blur
material accumulates for our new piece by jw - in our bodies, in our imaginations, and on the studio wall, which we're collaging with images and texts to inspire us. "the lure and blur of the real,"as david shields elegantly calls it, is part of what we're dealing with. "fairy tales" is the theme. we're asking:
where do fantasy and reality intersect?
is evil necessary in order to know the good; does ugliness help us recognize beauty?
how would i move if i could step out of my own body? how would we move together inside our own world, just the two of us?
what takes place after "something wonderful happens"?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wupping it up...
favorite colors edition...
This weekend, having survived my intensive course in Göttingen, we got away on the train to (W)est Germany for thirty-six hours of not-Kassel. We dipped into Wuppertal to check out a certain late choreographer's master work - which I found mind-blowing.
After the show, we hit the ivy-covered Luisenviertel...
with Doogie (down from Düsseldorf) and Meri (who danced in the show) for late dinner, a crisp Kölsch, and name-that-tune. Good to see the kids again.
Sunday morning I got up in the rain and ran in the woods above Wuppertal, which, due to its steep hills, is known as "the san francisco of germany." Mmm... the hills are about the only thing Bay Area-like - they'll knock the wind out of you... otherwise, the view is "industrial" to say the least...
Wuppertal's biggest tourist attraction is its public transporation system, the Schwebebahn, or "floating train." Lily liked the little cars, but the whole thing made her seasick.
After getting booted from our hotel, we jumped the train to Köln to check out the Dom...
Peep the Gerhard Richter window...
And let what light there was stream in...
We capped our trip with a lunch visit with Vinnie and a little walk along the Rhine.
One of our goals this year is to get out of Dodge as much as we can, as a way to keep from getting stale and/or stir-crazy. This was a good start.
This weekend, having survived my intensive course in Göttingen, we got away on the train to (W)est Germany for thirty-six hours of not-Kassel. We dipped into Wuppertal to check out a certain late choreographer's master work - which I found mind-blowing.
After the show, we hit the ivy-covered Luisenviertel...
with Doogie (down from Düsseldorf) and Meri (who danced in the show) for late dinner, a crisp Kölsch, and name-that-tune. Good to see the kids again.
Sunday morning I got up in the rain and ran in the woods above Wuppertal, which, due to its steep hills, is known as "the san francisco of germany." Mmm... the hills are about the only thing Bay Area-like - they'll knock the wind out of you... otherwise, the view is "industrial" to say the least...
Wuppertal's biggest tourist attraction is its public transporation system, the Schwebebahn, or "floating train." Lily liked the little cars, but the whole thing made her seasick.
After getting booted from our hotel, we jumped the train to Köln to check out the Dom...
Peep the Gerhard Richter window...
And let what light there was stream in...
We capped our trip with a lunch visit with Vinnie and a little walk along the Rhine.
One of our goals this year is to get out of Dodge as much as we can, as a way to keep from getting stale and/or stir-crazy. This was a good start.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Pen and Paper; Eye and Lens
At the Theaterfest last weekend, we did our daily training on the stage, open to the public. As we slowly began - stretching without music, breathing - cameras flashed all around us from the crowd that had gathered. I won't lie: there was something disorienting about it. Little kids with balloons tied to their wrists asked, "Was machen sie denn da, mama?" and the old ladies snoozed in the first row of the opera house. But by the time we got to standing exercises - plies and torso swings, crossing the floor and jumping - they were applauding at the end of the exercises with appreciation.
You jump from your neck
I am earthbound
capable of locomotion
in two directions
Getting back to touching
Or maybe they were just relieved we were finally standing up.
In the audience were Chris and Fred. Chris with his camera, Fred with his notebook. As partners of dancers, they've been at our sides for this whole Kassel trip, and there they were on Sunday, taking notes, checking out the new dancers, getting inspired. Curious to know what they'd captured, I requested a sneak peek into the notebook and behind the lens.
Chris is an incredibly talented designer - you've seen the my other country typewriter bumper he made for the videos I post. He's also the go-to genius for all things computer related, and a great photographer. He used the open training Sunday to check out his camera, and said he was going for a more journalistic than artistic approach. But as you can see, the man has a great eye, and crafts everything he does with care.
Fred's notebooks are filled with sketches, impressions, fragments. They are merely the first written scribbles that later are carefully culled, edited, and drafted into poems, but they always amaze me. He jumps from precise perceptions of what's going on around him into other, more fantastical images and language. He plays. He rhymes. He combines lies with truth, fact with fiction. Occasionaly I find myself in the notes, but just as soon as I've recognized something, it morphs in another direction.
Dancing animals
watched from many angles
wooden animals
on wheels
say hello
after months
among others
I don't have a clear view
Did you really go
back to bed
after all that
applause for the opening
sequence:
Man Entering
Public Transport System
***
It makes me feel
like a horse
in line for bread
It comes back to you
things learned without
telling anyone - how
to roll over a shoulder
where branches stick
into our path
What a large hat
In the audience were Chris and Fred. Chris with his camera, Fred with his notebook. As partners of dancers, they've been at our sides for this whole Kassel trip, and there they were on Sunday, taking notes, checking out the new dancers, getting inspired. Curious to know what they'd captured, I requested a sneak peek into the notebook and behind the lens.
Chris is an incredibly talented designer - you've seen the my other country typewriter bumper he made for the videos I post. He's also the go-to genius for all things computer related, and a great photographer. He used the open training Sunday to check out his camera, and said he was going for a more journalistic than artistic approach. But as you can see, the man has a great eye, and crafts everything he does with care.
Fred's notebooks are filled with sketches, impressions, fragments. They are merely the first written scribbles that later are carefully culled, edited, and drafted into poems, but they always amaze me. He jumps from precise perceptions of what's going on around him into other, more fantastical images and language. He plays. He rhymes. He combines lies with truth, fact with fiction. Occasionaly I find myself in the notes, but just as soon as I've recognized something, it morphs in another direction.
Dancing animals
watched from many angles
wooden animals
on wheels
say hello
after months
among others
I don't have a clear view
Did you really go
back to bed
after all that
applause for the opening
sequence:
Man Entering
Public Transport System
***
It makes me feel
like a horse
in line for bread
It comes back to you
things learned without
telling anyone - how
to roll over a shoulder
where branches stick
into our path
What a large hat
You jump from your neck
I am earthbound
capable of locomotion
in two directions
Getting back to touching
Thursday, September 3, 2009
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