A few new things.

I have rehearsal on Monday for a piece that I am co-choreographing for IDC's show. I haven't worked with someone else to create movement since...oh, probably in middle school at slumber parties. Coming into this process, I wasn't sure what to expect. Would we have completely different ideas about the storyline or the movement quality? Would there be a power struggle? Would this ruin our friendship?

I almost can't believe how well we worked together. It got to the point where I can't tell whose idea was whose. We completely accepted each other's ideas. After meeting for 5 hours, we produced 3 minutes of material. I'd say that's pretty good. Now, to see it on bodies...


The GI Alliance show opens today, and I'm pretty excited. I started thinking about the shows that I've done or am currently working on, and they are all so different from each other. Very different styles, approaches, missions, and processes. GI Alliance is just that--an alliance of dancers. I think it is so unique that all of the performers work with other companies, come from all kinds of dance backgrounds, all different ages. It is probably true that anyone in the Chicago dance scene knows someone in this group.

I'm glad to be a part of this group and this production: it's dance. Pure dance. There is a loose storyline to the show, but for the most part we are presenting work that is fun to do and (hopefully) fun to watch. Come see and decide for yourself!

Self-promotion aplenty!

Lately, I reference my day planner multiple times a day. I have many things going on at once, so difficult to keep straight...and no sign of letting up soon. All that I can think about is everything that is coming up on the calendar. Here is the immediate news.

The GI Alliance Dance Company show "Gut Instinct" opens this weekend, and marks the first time that I will perform works from the same concert over the course of a full month. Performing a concert for more than a one-weekend engagement is new and exciting for me as a dancer, a pretty rare opportunity. Unfortunately, dance is very underfunded, and most companies could potentially LOSE money by offering a second weekend of shows. That being said--come see our show! Dancers and choreographers work hard and long to put together a show, and shows need audiences.
("Gut Instinct" will be at the Galaxie on Belmont and Rockwell, May 8, 9, 15, and 16 at 7:30. Tickets $20.)
I'll also perform one of the pieces in Rebound Dance Festival on May 27, and then we take half of the concert on tour to Detroit in June!

If you didn't already know, my husband is an actor. He has been working with Absolute Shakespeare and just opened a show last night with Red Tape Theatre. I was lucky enough to see a preview of Red Tape's show "The Love of the Nightingale." I highly recommend this show to anyone who enjoys performance that incorporates dance and physicality. Just a beautiful, well done show.


Stay tuned. I promise I'll write a more thoughtful entry next time.

Reflection on Rejection

So, you may remember that I had two auditions last week that I was pretty excited about. I'll keep this brief because there is really no need to elaborate--I was cut from both auditions a bit sooner than I had anticipated. At first I just didn't understand. I didn't really expect to become a company member with either group, but I was hoping to walk away with a work-study or apprenticeship. Nope. Nothing.

I felt bad about myself for about half a day, but I am surprising myself with my resilience. I'm ready to get back to work, get into more classes and completely devote myself. For the last couple of months I have been dancing almost every day, about 15 or 20 hours a week, and I know that I have to keep that up and see where it takes me.

I keep reminding myself of how awesome this year has been to me so far, and it looks like by the end of the year I will have performed in at least 5 concerts with 5 different groups and will have my choreography on stage!

Not too bad.

Validation

I work with a fellow dancer, a lovely young man who has had the pleasure of performing professionally (even if not consistently). I wanted to share some of our conversation because I found it to be insightful and inspiring.

We welcomed each other with big hugs this morning, much needed gestures of support, and then I reminded him that I would see him in company class this Friday--I'm auditioning for the company with whom he has been a guest artist. He seemed like he was happy to hear that, and told me that one of my favorite ballet teachers would be giving us class, which I took to be a huge plus for me. He confessed that he heard that I was considering not even going to the audition because I wasn't sure if I would want to work with this company (a little back story: I actually love the work that they produce and fully support the concept, but I had a confidence-shattering audition with them a year ago and it left a mark). Of course, I responded that I changed my mind because I am not in a place to be picky about the work that I do, that I just need to try everything. He agreed, and also told me this:
"After every audition, no matter how it went, you set the bar a little higher for yourself. It gives you something to reach for."

It doesn't matter if you are cut in the first round, the last round, or if you make it to the end of an audition. Auditioning gives you a chance to see what else is out there, shake your grounding, and keep you growing.



In a separate conversation with the same friend, my eyes teared up as I told him how I thought that my dancer friends sometimes discredit the work that I've been doing for the last year. (This may or may not be based on truth, it could just be paranoia.) I have worked harder than I have in years and tried so many new things and met so many lovely people...it's hard to have others (unknowingly, and not directly) tell you that it doesn't really count as professional work. He soothed me with this:
"It shouldn't matter if what you are working on is not as well-known. For all we know, [those groups] could become huge in the future. What matters most is that you are contributing to the dance community."

I'm always thankful for supportive friends, the awesome opportunities that I've been given, and I am fully invested in the work I am producing as a dancer.

Sometimes you just need a little validation.

Looking ahead and Expression vs. Technique

Many exciting events coming up for me and my little dance world: two auditions next week, one the week after that, learning new dances, creating new dances, show opening in a few weeks...

I've been searching for new opportunities. The Chicago dance community is so rich with companies, projects and festivals--and I want to experience it all. I'm looking forward and realizing that I may be extremely busy at the moment while I'm rehearsing with 3 companies at once, but in 2 months I'll be working on just one show.

I had a conversation with a teacher last week to help guide me into other dance opportunities. I did learn about some new places to take classes and learned some new names, but I took a couple of other things with me--encouragement and a couple compliments. I know that I'm not the best technical dancer ever, so it was nice to hear from someone else that my strength as a dancer is how I express myself.

I'm going to try to use that expression to my advantage in upcoming auditions. I may not impress you at ballet barre, but I will certainly pour myself into the character that you want.

Last night, a few friends and I went to a benefit for a new company (my best friend is one of the founding dancers). Listening to the founder/choreographer/artistic director was truly inspiring. He has a refreshing views on dance and dance creation, in particular that he makes dances with his particular dancers in mind, that their personalities and movement qualities make the dance. I also loved when he said, "I have many technical faults as a dancer, when you see me in class you might think I am an amateur." It was uplifting for me to see that you don't have to be the best dancer in the room to create work that others will support and appreciate. Looking forward to Dmitri's show.

Working hard, or hardly working?

Last week, a friend of mine interrogated me, in a very conversational way, on my career goals. What do I see myself doing in 5 years? What is it that I wish I was doing right now? What do I need to do to reach those goals? All these questions ended the way they started: Why am I selling myself short?

I've always known that this is what would involve pursuing a dance career: more rejection than praise, criticism (years of ballet should have prepared me for that), working harder every day than you did the day before. Self-doubt and self-pity shouldn't be in that mix.

One of my close friends seems to have been so lucky, blessed, fortunate--however you look at it--since she started auditioning for professional work. I hate that I am jealous, and even more I hate that it makes me wonder what exactly is wrong with me. But even through my jealousy, I can see why she has earned so much praise and validation: she puts in the work. Dance comes first, there aren't any excuses.

It's something that I (and we as dancers) have to constantly remember--you have to work for this. Dancing is not like riding a bicycle, you can't hop on and off and expect the same result.

So I've come back to the first lesson that dance teaches you: discipline. I think it's the hardest thing to retain once you become an independent adult. You have choices, and you don't always want to do what is best for you.

Anticipating Summer (Intensives)

Summer is almost here, at least today's weather of 75 degrees and sunny is trying to trick me that warmer weather is coming. In the last couple of years summer has meant workshops and intensives. I'm getting a little bit nervous as I try to plan what programs to sign up for, and more importantly how I'm going to pay for them.

Last year I went to two summer workshops: Cerqua Rivera's intensive and a few days of River North's summer workshop (I couldn't afford the full 5 days). I had a really great experience with both and learned a lot--especially what I should be doing in order to take care of my body.
After the River North workshop I couldn't walk. I thought I was just sore from working so hard, but then the pain didn't go away and I realized that it wasn't a muscular pain...most likely I tore some cartilage around my knee (*unfortunately, my "insurance" doesn't cover X-rays, MRIs, or physical therapy...so I don't know for sure).
I was devastated. In part, it was like a rite of passage, my first dance injury. But I couldn't dance for 8 weeks. I could barely move. I worried about putting on weight (for about 3 weeks all I did was lay on the couch with a bag of frozen peas on my knee). I also knew that this type of injury doesn't repair itself, it just hurts less with time. I ended up being out of class for 3 months, and just barely felt normal enough to dance in IDC's concert in November.
I've recently started to go to class more regularly to test my limits, 3 or 4 classes per week on top of about 6-10 hours of rehearsal and 3 hours/week of cross training. I was afraid of this...my knees hurt. Not terribly, but enough that I can't always cross my legs because it causes to much pressure, or I can't bend my legs past a 90 degree angle when I sit on the bus, or that I have to wear my running shoes much more often because I need the support.
It's scary, something that I am constantly aware of.
And now...summer intensives. Will I be able to handle the amount of dancing? Will I hurt myself again? I'm planning to train consistently for the next month or two to see how I'm feeling before I officially commit to any intensives.
You only get one body, right?