Sharon Hayes as “Placeholder”

This weekend I had the opportunity to get to know artist Sharon Hayes a bit.  I’m interested in the way her work with speech, protest, history and the public assumes different things about the possibilities of performance than proscenium dancing.

reading 36 "Addresses to the Nation" of Ronald Reagan

reading 36 "Addresses to the Nation" of Ronald Reagan

Among other things, her work enacts history through performance of historical texts and images.  This performance is not acting, and not recreacting a historical moment, but “enacting” the past by reading text.  This opened up many possibilities for me in framing performance in any future work in the vein of Afferent Data as well as the movement choirs.  I connected with her attitude towards herself in her work –she called it being a “placeholder” between the past and the present, for many reasons.

itnf_ny_1

In working on Afferent Data with Joshua, we had a difficult time understanding exactly what we were doing by having me “perform”  piece.  Actually, we settled on the word “demonstration” to describe what we were doing, which feels a little more accurate.  To summarize, the piece took place in the Strength of Materials Lab at Ohio State, a room approximately 25 X 30 feet, divided along the middle by a chain-link fence.  One side of the fence was an 8-channel sound environment – 8 sets of speakers evenly spaced along the periphery.  I stood on the other side of the fence, under a single bulb.  Through a video camera and jitter I controlled the timing of sound on the other side of the fence which had been processed in a number of ways.  The raw material for the sound also came from a recording of my breath.  I stood breathing, and the sound changed slowly over the course of 20 mintues.  The sound environment created on the other side of the chain link fence was immersive and texture-based.

Questions about performance arose out of the offering of this piece for me.  We struggled with whether to call it a performance or not because we were not interested in me expressing anything or acting “as if” anything.  However, calling it a “demonstration” and then placing me under a light on the other side of a fence posed challenges.  I found it difficult to look at people and breathe for 20 minutes without filling my actions, and my face with emotional content.  I think what we wanted was a sense of bareness, transparency, and readability; we wanted people to see me and say, “oh, she’s breathing, and that’s connected to the sound I’m hearing.”  I wanted there to be a particularly strange and visceral connection between the sight of the breath and the sound.  What I did not understand how to deal with was the primacy of the visual and the weight of standing in front of others doing actions.  I have performed a lot, and found it so difficult to do the task without dramatizing it, or trying to make it something more than it was.  I’m still not sure, was I trying to make it something more because the idea was just too minimal and I was intensely aware of that in the moment?  Or did my urge to make it something more come out of my background as a proscenium performer and a human reluctance to be seen, to be transparent?  I may not need to answer these two questions definitively in order to continue to develop this work.

I can’t seem to come across a big idea these days without relating it to movement choirs.  (Is that the curse of being in graduate school?  Absolutely everything connects to your research?)  I’m now reevaluating the insider/outsider relationship as well as the way I identify the performers of the choir.  If I do physically recreate a choir, I’d love to see the movers as enacting the movements in the score without pretending to be the original participants.  How can the idea of “placeholder” inform this historic reconstruction?  Sharon seems to have provided me with a body of work that is an example of this cultural materialist framework I’m thinking about in reconstruction – the performance of a historic work being performative.

This also connects back to pocket scores. A basic assumption in my reconstruction of a choir is the choir’s relationship to its notation and vice versa.  The movements were made simple in order to be easily recorded and disseminated.  The notation system was developed in part to share the choirs with amateur movers.  It would be so against the rules to disseminated the actual score to onlookers, but what could I give or hand out at the performance of a movement choir that might somehow bring the passersby into insider status?


The Wii Choir Would Be Fun, Really. . .

To continue my thoughts about the appropriateness of reconstructing movement choirs using Wii as an interface, I will compare and contrast the two.

choir

wiiusers

Movement choirs and Wii are designed to be experiential and performative.  The amateur dancers of movement choirs were performing a communal identity that gave them back what they lost through the industrial revolution; their communities, “nature” and their physicality.  Gamers using the Wii perform imagined identities of coordination, control and extreme athleticism.  Both of these ways of performing provide the participants with coping systems in times of drastic cultural shifts (to industrialization in the case of the choir, and towards cyborgism and the digital revolution for Wii users.  Both Wii and movement choirs provide expressions of physicality in disembodied modern culture.

The two differ in their relationship to the idea of the group, and to the compliance or defiance of the mainstream status quo.  Movement choirs were designed to enact a lost pre-modern community, and could not be performed without the perfect cooperation of the entire group.  Wii, on the other hand is designed to be consumed by an individual without regard for other actual people.   Community, in the world of Wii, reduced to visual data with which the individual user interacts.   Movement choirs were activist pieces through which participants demonstrated and advocated for a rooted, communal life.  Though for a time they were adopted by the Nazis, who loved a spectacle, in the end the Nazi party and Laban and his ideas could not get along; movement choirs were neither about the industrial mass, nor the fascist mass.  The average Wii use is apolitical and the actual movements of a Wii user playing a Nintendo-made game are passively.  Unpacking these movements by examining their source, we see that a Wii user is performing movements designed for her by the corporation who took her money to sell her the experience.  This relationship of tool to marketplace to performance is what makes technological artifacts so interesting to hack into, and to make things with.


Winter 2009

Working backwards, here’s what I’ve been doing the last few months.

Photo:  Lindsey Caddle Lapointe

Photo: Lindsey Caddle Lapointe

  • Afferent Data, an eight-channel sound environment responsive to the small movements of respiration, with Joshua (mentioned by Bill Mayr in the Dispatch).  And therefore asking. . .
Photo: Ryan Agnew

Photo: Ryan Agnew

  • What is it to be alive?  What is it that makes me alive?  Is it possible to be still?  What is the smallest amount of movement?  What is the essence of being alive?
  • Studying Vicki Blaine’s 1978 Progression dance score with regard to Rudolf Laban’s theories of space, and thus;
  • Committing Laban’s A-Scale to muscle memory

labana-scale

as well as. . .

  • Rolling, swinging, rocking and dropping my way through some Bartenieff fundamentals.
  • Gathering information on John Rodriguez’ abstract ballet Vivaldiana, reading the Labanotation score, and embodying it.  This has felt like a satisfying, complex physical Sudoku.  Learning that every personal story is interesting if one spends enough time with it.
  • Twenty-one beautiful sessions of playful, intentional improvisation (and four ballet classes) with Nik Haffner and friends in a workshop presenting William Forsythe’s ideas at OSU’s Department of Dance.
  • Batsheva, Batsheva, Batsheva at the Wex.  That’s watching them, dreaming about them, and talking about them.
  • Learning the differences between Labanotation in 1927 and now.
  • Attempting without much success to understand the score of a movement choir from Germany in 1927.  Staring with fascination at pages of Knust’s Group Notation.
  • Attempting, again without success, to map data from movement into Max/MSP through the Wii remote.  The idea is to make an instrument which will classify movement according to the space and effort qualities of Laban Movement Analysis.
  • Reading the fantastically illuminating responses of elective students in dance to a dance concert, and thus;
  • revisiting the question; what do we make things for, our audience, our research, or somewhere in between? Facing that I have not really been asking this question with honesty.  Appreciating the ideas of Richard Maxfield in his Composers, Performance and Publication essay in light of all this.

Ethics of Dance and Tech “Collaboration”

Dancers seem to be excited about collaboration right now.  I have been encouraged several times since last week to “collaborate” with a programmer to complete this Wii movement choir project.  Other dancers have encouraged me to come up with the idea, get a small amount of understanding of the software, and then get a programmer to do the work.  I would be providing the idea and the movement expertise –basically feedback on the software.  I have considered that this type of relationship with a programmer is problematic.

A dancer actually said to me, “Oh, you don’t have to learn any of that tech stuff, just get somebody else to do it.  Then you’ll have a collaborator, and then it’s really easy to get grant money.  If you can use the word collaboration in your proposal you’re set.”  I’m skeptical of taking this route.  Dancers are marginalized as artists and have to struggle to be considered legitimate.  By the numbers dancers are mostly female.    I’ve had the opportunity to closely observe sound installation artist Joshua Penrose and his process of painstakingly learning the skills needed to make his work, coming from a traditional music background.  Did he assume he could do it because he’s male, or because there’s a different sense of empowerment in the music community?  It seems dancers assume that they can’t learn software or that it’s not worth their time.

Judging by the dialogues here at OSU and in non-profits, dancers are tired of being marginalized and considered unintelligent.  Isn’t just being the bodies while other people do the programming going to keep us there?  I’m going to assume that if I can master Labanotation, then I can master other systems of symbols, and learn to write code.  If I can learn to coordinate the parts of my body, possibly I can manipulate physical objects as I need to to choreograph this interactive environment.  

However it is possible that the people encouraging me to find a collaborator already have something figured out that I don’t.  Maybe it is impossible to keep the sense of physicality I get from a daily practice and sit at the computer enough to learn the skills myself.  

My argument is made weaker by my lack of experience, I know.   But I hope to move forward on learning Max/MSP Jitter and animation, and on figuring out what the Wii can do.  I also plan to take ballet class this winter and maintain a studio practice.   Wii’ll see what happens.


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