Malcolm's blog

I am puzzling over my dance practice and how it feeds my choreography. I consider my dance practice a solo form of authentic movement. After a slow warmup with Bartenieff Fundamentals and perhaps some traveling exercises, I find my way into an improvisation of anywhere from 15-40 minutes. I may have a particular concept to play with: for instance, moving from heart or exploring the connection between hand and scapula. The overall goal of my practice is to increase my awareness of my sensations.

Began work on Florencia’s solo last week. It is going in a direction I had not anticipated. Starting with the idea of isolating her fingers, to begin kindling a fire, I had Florencia wear a felt shirt that I happened to have brought with me. The shirt worked well as a cover. Contained within it, Florencia’s fingers were emphasized. But soon the character of the shirt became more compelling. Florencia was clearly retreating into its shell. She looked cold, as if trying to escape the wind.

I seem to have caught my daughter's cold. It's a tickle in the throat that erupts, from time to time, in coughs that wrack the body like sobs. Ironically, my nose, which habitually bears the brunt of my illnesses, has not yet clogged up completely. I expect it to any day now.

Next week, I begin work on a short solo for Florencia, a section of our ongoing January Dances. I am caught by the image of fire. It's an overworked image, but still compelling. I am excited to try my hand at it.

Notes from Clark Park performance, Philadelphia, by Human Landscape Dance 7_12_08

Really nervous today! We wake up early and load platforms on the top of the car. Jen gets Maya ready because I'm too jittery to focus. We somehow manage to get on the road on time.

7_13_08--A bit groggy to start. Spent the night with friends who have two 18-month-old boys. Never a quiet moment until bedtime! I look at 8.5-month-old Maya, who does not yet walk; who screams and cries sometimes, but is not constantly busy in the way that the boys were; who is still a roly-poly jellybean--I can't believe she will transform so much so soon!

Am contemplating a name change: Winterludes instead of January Dances. I like the gray, hard feel of the word January. Winterludes, however, implies dalliances, trysts--the feverish, lascivious, greedy side of winter. There is a sexy side to winter: a yearning to dwell longer in bed, a desire to cling to a warm body under cold sheets.

The space issue is resolved. We have a space for regular rehearsals. I am so relieved! Dance is such an expensive occupation in some ways: we don't have to buy instruments, but we can't drag around our own dance floors or practice in our basements. A dance group needs a home with spacious sprung floors and furniture out of the way--so much to arrange sometimes.

Experiencing a lot of anxiety. The place where my group rehearses has suddenly raised its rates. It's more than I can pay. I feel certain that a new space, a new opportunity will develop, but it makes me want to cry in frustration!

Prettiest day of the year: cool breeze, bright sun. I lie on the grass. Nature inspires me--even just a lawn, even the breeze rustling the leaves above the pavement. Here, on this concrete plane, the cicadas still chatter, the ants still creep on my skin, the flowers still bloom…and I am still an animal. We are still part of nature, still animals breathing air, sweating, eating, having sex, having babies…no matter how many shopping malls we erect to protect us from the outside.