What to Expect, What to Hope for, What to (not) Know

It's exciting to build a work in such a way that the word 'choreography,' which is supposed to mean 'writing dance,' gets to be relevant in a new way. So often it means 'having written,' rather than 'writing' itself. Writing itself is contextual, constantly negotiated, where as that which has been written awaits interpretation but has ceased to change.

With "Meat Space Diaries #4: ODE" I am courting changing and clinging to the essence.

In rehearsal we go in and start writing where we left off, getting a significant portion of new material out there, then spend the rest of the time circling back around and through: zooming in for a more petite etude or experiment; witnessing; marking badly (something I call a poot-through :-) ) which helps me see structure, then noticing what we felt and who we seem to be in the aftermath. Letting sparks fly and catching those that are useful.

Why am I doing this? Those new to this site might well ask.

My experiences working on farms and in the cubicles of corporate america have given me great curiosity about the nature of embodied labor. 

And I just so happened to rescue a pig from slaughter. My experiences learning about the tenderness and violence and delicate negotiations that happen in the production of meat from the lives of animals--have fueled this project, Meat Space Diaries, an accumulating performance work about relationships, essentially.

I'm using humor, of course. I can't help it. And lots of scored improvisation that is nonetheless quite thoroughly rehearsed. (for the most part... :-)

I hope this helps clarify, even if it doesn't make it any easier to see this in your mind's eye. I hope we can get together in the flesh, as it were, and then you can ask me with your own vocal chords. Or below in that little reply box. That works too.