I (this is Amanda, the choreographer of NightBirds) had planned to start our residency rehearsals with a prompt about creating a shelter. I was interested in the many connotations of the word–home, safe space, protection, cozy or constraining–and how they relate to both the human and the animal world. I had also wanted to use this prompt to bring things into the rehearsal room. I enjoy incorporating props and objects into dance to extend the body or provide additional, and often surprising, inspiration.
Then, it felt like all of a sudden, we were all sheltered in our apartments, hiding away from a virus. And we were enveloped in stuff. The empty studio that felt so normal a week ago, was now a luxury we all longed for. My small, largely practical, choreographic prompt was now filled (overstuffed even) with meaning. Everyone had many thoughts about shelters now that they could not leave their own.
With so much inspiration flying about, we quickly moved to creating. The first score was still simply to make a shelter, but in one of three ways:
1. Physically build a shelter in your home and think about how you move within that space. How does the space restrict or change your movement? Document the shelter and/or your way of moving in the shelter.
2. Take three minutes to free write about what shelter means to you. Edit the resulting text: cut, rearrange, reword, anything. Then use that text as a score to create movement, or a performance, or a painting or anything. Document it in some way.
3. Shelter duet. Pick a partner. Person A makes a simple phrase that invovles creating shapes with the body. Send video of phrase to person B. Person B creates a new phrase using the negative space in person A’s video. Continue to create new phrases and send back and forth to each other.
Here are some samples of our first shelters:
Complicating Shelter
At our next rehearsal we pushed this prompt further. I asked everyone to pick a partner and figure out a way that they could combine their projects. I wanted to figure out how we could work closely together while being apart, and to focus on the development process rather than the final product. How could one finished piece serve as the score of the next? What does it mean to never be finished?
We worked together to propose new projects, and over the next week provided feeback and advice on each other’s creations. Here’s some examples of where we are thus far although, as per the prompt, we aren’t finished.
Video 1: Sara Ciampa and Robert Dowling; Video 2: Anna Hull and Michael Parmelee (video editing by Amanda Hameline)
Tara and Lex created a written conversation that has now lasted for two weeks. They began by making a “shelter” movement phrase and responding to that phrase with text. Each day they add a new response to the ongoing, shared document. Here is one snippet from March 24th and 25th.
3/24 Tara Sheena
A: I’ve been inside a lot more lately.
B: Yeah, me too.
A: You too?
B: Yeah.
A: Yeah.
B: Well, how’s that been for you?
A: It’s ok. I get hungry and my feet are colder than usual.
B: But, not bored?
A: Boredom? No. I never get bored.
B: Never?
A: Never.
B: I think I relate. But, I can’t know for sure. Sometimes I sort my spice rack with spare time. Sometimes I cry in the shower. Sometimes I don’t. I can’t know for sure.
A: Totally.
B: Yeah.
A: Yeah.
B: But…what’s the air like in there?
A: It changes day to day. Soft or sentient or, sometimes, a strong smell.
B: Oh?
A: Or, perhaps, an extreme stretch.
B: That’s definitely not what I thought you were going to say.
A: What’d you think?
B: Well, I thought you’d be nicer about it.
A: Oh.
B: Oh.
A: Yeah.
B: Yeah.
Lex Crooms 3/25 (going crazy)
Why won’t you talk to me?
I’m right here, engaged, actively wanting to know more.
But you won’t speak.
That’s all I get, silence
We are the only two here and you can’t even open your mouth to ask me how my day was.
Well shit,
“How was your day?”
Bored right? Fuck, Me too!
Are you Hungry?
Upset?
Angry?
Do you want me here?
I want to be here, There
Mentally, emotionally But you’re not here
At all