figuring out fluxus
Posted: January 10, 2011 Filed under: creative process, performance | Tags: doing things, event scores, fluxus, Movement Choirs, score Leave a comment »I am finally looking more into the Fluxus movement, as has been suggested to me several times. My main source of inspiration right now is is the Fluxus Workbook; I have been poring over it, and it is the kind of resource I know I will keep returning to. I’m planning on using some of the event scores found in the workbook, or my own versions inspired by them with the group of performers I’m working with right now.
I’m thinking about the way some of the event scores are everyday acts or absurd acts presented as performances. Some take place officially in theatres, others wherever the readers are, some on city streets. The field of where these fluxus events can take place is wide open. What that means to me as a director is shifting from giving the performers “exercises” to giving them “performances” to do.
In my mind this is an important shift. When I worked with the art class a few weeks ago, I complained afterwards that things felt a bit too “educational”. It felt that we were doing some sort of trust-building exercises for a touchy-feely support group they had never signed up for. I’m not against trust, but I don’t want to pose as an educator in that setting. I want to play, and to incite playfulness with the people that are giving me their time. Also, I have this agenda to get a lot of performers on board with the type of thing I want to bring into the world–and maybe even to have them eventually draw from people they know to bring in an even larger group of performers. While some already get it, some just haven’t yet experienced anything like this at all, and I do feel they need some preparation.
I was going to give these guys all kinds of readings to do to talk about precedents in established performance and art practices that are about breaking down the life-art divide. Logistically, this is difficult, because they are busy, and we only have a few hours together each week. Also it just seems like a geeky, boorish and pedantic thing to do to people who aren’t asking for this type of information.
I really want to prioritize action in the short time that we have. I am thinking that what is important to me about the history and practice of performance art, they can maybe get if we do the right things together. So, with the performers I am now working with, I can do similar activities to the ones I have done before, such as trying to move in unison without planning ahead, or making formations in a space with eyes closed–but frame these as performances. We can go to a public venue to do these things, or stay in the studio, or I can send them home with assignments; I am hoping this shift in wording and attitude from practice to performance can have the effect of calling their attention to themselves doing these actions. It is not that I want to perform more in the dancerly sense – that is, to learn more steps, get more audiences, and get onto the stage. Rather, I want to continually frame our practice as performance to enact a shift in their awareness of their everyday actions as performance.
In doing so, I am hoping that together we can make some spectacles that also pose certain questions about performance to the audience.
Where is the meaning?
Posted: December 15, 2010 Filed under: creative process, laban studies, movement choirs | Tags: albrecht knust, Movement Choirs, phenomenology 9 Comments »Where is the meaning of a dance?
I started to touch on this in the last post when I mentioned that the Gurdjieff movements interest me because there is obviously a unique intention in their performance. This, in contrast to the pretty boring stuff that has come out of my notation student’s simple reading of the steps of a 1930′s movement choir. I’d share the video here, but to protect my students’ privacy I don’t think I should.
My dear Joshua challenged me when I expressed my disappointment at seeing the steps of Knust’s 1930-33 Walzer. To me, it has been all this work and world travel to find the right score, figure out what this movement choir was, and what it meant in 1933, and then I see a group do it, and I hate it! And the more I see, the more it leaves me flat. Joshua, having recently started to think often and critically about phenomenology and art challenged my underlying assumption that the meaning would be in the movement. That reproducing the movement would cause the meaning of the movement choir to appear before me, magically.
WHAT!? Isn’t it of the big assumptions of the dance notation community that by preserving dances through notation and reconstruction we get access to historical meanings otherwise lost? It is. This is also an assumption important to dance studies in general. It rationalizes notation and reconstruction. It is a security blanket. If you’re not sure why you’re doing a reconstruction, or you need to explain it to someone, this is the fallback. I’ve argued on too many grant applications that the use of dance notation is what makes my movement choir research stand out, and what makes it especially valid. Incidentally the idea that the score holds the secret embodied meaning of a dance goes hand-in-hand with the “it’s valuable because it’s history” argument. To question these arguments makes me a little nervous.
But come to think of it, I have questioned those arguments. And I have developed some theories to explain my answers, and my persistence in this research. I wrote about them in a rough-but passable comprehensive exam this summer, which would be too embarrassing to post to the blog. But I’ll have to take a little time to revisit that paper and my thoughts. I am in a bit of a knot.
Here’s an overview of how the argument developed.
Mara: expresses dissatisfaction with the way the steps look, and how meaningless they feel
Joshua: points out that i’m assuming the meaning is in the steps themselves. Brings up the limitations of that assumption. Suggests that the situation of the work brings forward more of the meaning that I’m willing to admit.
Me: Got the idea that much more information is present in an artwork than what is “inside the frame”. But challenged back to Joshua that all that information does come to us through the body.
Joshua: acknowledges that of course that is true, but that it comes in many more ways than just through doing the steps or seeing them done, and that those other ways are at least as important if not more important.
This was so helpful to me, and now I need to understand how I can set up the conditions or situation I think will make group dance meaningful.
Odeon Records
Posted: December 14, 2010 Filed under: creative process, interesting, laban studies, movement choirs | Tags: albrecht knust, futurist, Movement Choirs, odeon records, vinyl records 2 Comments »I’ve just discovered some history about the Odeon record label that is mentioned in German in the score I’m working with. Odeon Schallplatte was a Berlin record company and may have invented the first double-sided records. (Don’t necessarily take my word for it, I just got it from Wikipedia) I wonder, was the record mentioned in my score made of glass? I wonder if it is possible to get a hold of this recording after all, and how one goes about finding very old records if you have a specific recording number. It seems possible that this recording could be somewhere.
Anyway, I love the way the covers look.
Dance, Sustainability, and Counterpoint
Posted: May 26, 2009 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: amateurism, Ascona, counterpoint, critical pedagogy, emerson, housewifery, husbandry, john holt, joshua penrose, laban dance notation, maria montessori, mothering, Movement Choirs, physical practice, Rudolf Laban, tap, theater of the oppressed, thoreau, wendell berry 2 Comments »My friend Hannah used the Counterpoint Tool from Synchronous Objects as a way of framing related ideas. This process of examining a web of ideas first in terms of one relationship, then another, then maybe several relationships at once, brings a holistic, open-ended and non-linear knowledge of what those ideas are. The process is useful to me right now as I try to integrate my ideas about my creative research and right livelihood, as well as the political ramifications of Rudolf Laban and his career.
I’m sitting with some plain white paper and a pencil and trying to sketch the contrapuntal play of these ideas on the paper, but having difficulty mapping the ideas out for myself visually. I seem to need my model to move, to be able choreograph them and thereby see how they play with each other. Presently I have a series of triangles with a word, representing a chunk of concepts at the corners of each triangle. From one triangle to another one or two of the words may stay the same. The terms in the triangles are these:
sustainability, ascona, anna halprin, my creative process, rudolf laban, wendell berry, somatics, and dance reconstruction
I’d like for this model to be able to show how the triangles interelate, and how varying relationships between concepts can show different facets of each concept. Despite my training in Labanotation, I can’t think of a visual representation for this inherently relational way of being with ideas.
Now, I will try something like the facebook friend wheel. I’m placing the ideas around a wheel with an open center. Any idea can connect to any other idea along the wheel. The important thing is not to only draw a connection but to use the visual connection between two or more words to better understand the words and their relationship. I’ve added a few words to fill out my wheel now, including the following:
physical training, freedom, emerson, thoreau, amateurism, mothering ballet, tap, labanotation, jazz, theater of the oppressed, mark johnson, maria montessori, john holt, friere, critical pedagogy, movement choirs, gender, husbandry/housewifery, working with joshua
The Wii Choir Would Be Fun, Really. . .
Posted: April 28, 2009 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: dance, Max/MSP Jitter, Movement Choirs, Wii Leave a comment »To continue my thoughts about the appropriateness of reconstructing movement choirs using Wii as an interface, I will compare and contrast the two.
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.
Problems in Reconstructing a Movement Choir
Posted: April 26, 2009 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: albrecht knust, dance, Movement Choirs, Rudolf Laban, score, selma jeane cohen, sheila marion, Titan 5 Comments »When I get asked what I’m doing with dance at a dinner party, I usually say that I teach tap and ballet and take some classes – the real answer is just too long and involved. Here in the blog I can geek out and give the real answer to the question “what are you studying in graduate school?”.
I want to see what a movement choir of Rudolf Laban really looks like. Aspects of movement choirs and their notation make them extremely difficult to reconstruct from the notation score. The choirs have scores, but the scores are difficult to read. They’re not written in everyday notation (ha ha – “everyday” Labanotation!), but in a simpler form of the language that existed during its development. They also make use of Knust’s group notation, which applies symbols usually used on body parts to whole groups, allowing for description of choreography which prioritizes the logic of the mass. This group notation is so fascinating. Systems of movement description demonstrate the needs and preferences of the dance forms which created them. I would say they also demonstrate the cultures that created those dance forms. If this is true, the graphic, elaborate symbols of group notation as applied to Laban’s movement choirs show very clearly the importance of the human mass to movement choir practitioners, and possibly to modern humanity. The mass was industrialization and danger, it was also the way to salvation, through returning to true community organized not around buying and selling, but the simple bond of humanness. The amateur choristers wanted to break out from the oppressive mechanization, but to do it in a mass.
The notation of Titan, Laban’s movement choir from 1928 is so much more about these shifting and reforming geometric patterns than about individual body movement. A regular notation score has many symbols for each part of the body within the staff, but these scores are filled with symbols in the margins to show how the group interacts. Within the staff is relatively sparse, with a few steps, or broad movements of the arms and upper-body together. The contrast between what needed to be recorded to notate a movement choir, and what for a contemporary dance is so big that in notation we’ve had to add columns to the staff just to hold everything we want to say about the body. But no, what was important for a participant in a movement choir was staying in a rigorously exact relationship to the group. Movement choirs were idealism in action fueled by the belief that their performance could bring a return to man’s natural, pre-industrial state of grace.
So the scores are not written in the language or mood of a contemporary dance or Labanotation practitioner, but an archaic one. Resources do exist to read them such as chapters Ann Hutchinson Guest’s Advanced Notation Series, or Odette Blum’s writing on older forms of Notation in the Advanced Packet published by the DNB. Resources in the DNB Extension Archives held at Ohio State include Shrifftanz, the original treatise of Labanotation, and many papers of Albrect Knust designed to explain this group notation.
Sheila Marion has also established that systems of Notation will tailor themselves to the stylistic aspects of the dances they represent. The system will convey only information deemed necessary while assuming that the reader will be knowledgeable in that style, and thus infer stylistic elements back into the movement upon reconstruction. The bodily movements in a movement choir are in whatever the style of dance is that was so popular in 1920′s Germany. At the time a huge amateur movement spread across the middle and working classes to learn and perform dances. The Shriftanz manual shows in it’s large-print, almost leaflet styling that the new Labanotation was designed to disseminate dance as quickly and easily as possible. Helen Priest Rogers, who studied with Laban in 1936 in Germany, explains how the scores were distributed across networks of amateur dance clubs to facilitate the new dance. These scores were written with expediency and ease of use in mind. I don’t have a bodily understanding of the style, though I know that Laban was seeking to develop a new dance form that emphasized mobility and defined space through the use of the body. Without a deep understanding of the style, I will have a more difficult, but not impossible time understanding what is indicated in these scores.
The movement choirs’ participatory nature also creates a problem. Reconstruction from the score of most dances calls for in depth study of the style, and the context of the dance, as well as detailed analysis of the score in order to accurately coach dancers to perform the movement in front of an audience. In a movement choir, especially at their beginnings, the performers were the audience. They have little or no dramatic content, and the movement is very simple. What they are about is the way they made the participants feel – particularly 1920′s German middle class participants reeling from a late and rapid industrialization. Imagination goes a long way, but the process of truly reconstructing a movement choir presents the problem of coaching performers in a more complex way than ordinary reconstruction.
Of course, all reconstruction of historic dance is problematic, as Selma Jeane Cohen demonstrates in Next Week, Swan Lake. We can never really know what a dance looked like, or in the case of a movement choir, what it looked and felt like, at its first performance. There is so much we can’t know, but I believe that highlights the importance of using what we do know, and bringing all available resources to bear on each reconstruction.
Winter 2009
Posted: March 16, 2009 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: A-Scale, collaboration, dance, group notation, improvisation technologies, joshua penrose, knust, laban dance notation, Laban Movement Analysis, Max/MSP Jitter, Monster Partitur, Movement Choirs, physical practice, Richard Maxfield, score, Space Harmony, Titan, Vivaldiana, Wii Leave a comment »Working backwards, here’s what I’ve been doing the last few months.
- Meditative tracing of skeleton sculptures for William Forsythe’s Monster Partitur in the Wexner Center Performance space.
- 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. . .
- 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
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.
Movement Choirs and Wii
Posted: December 10, 2008 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: accad, hacking, Movement Choirs, Reconstruction, Wii 1 Comment »I’m hoping to reconstruct a Laban movement choir from the Labanotation Score, but I envision a serious problem with finding sixty or eighty people interested this. in embodying a group that moves as one, yet has complex interrelationships. To examine what was happening in those movement choirs, it would be best to recreate on some level the communities out of which the choruses evolved.

How on earth could I drum up eighty or more amateur movers interested in this, and willing to learn to read basic Labanotation? I could bribe college students with free pizza, but that certainly wouldn’t help to flesh out the ideologically instructive, expressive nature the choirs had for their eager participants.
I’m theorizing that dance choirs were the mass expression of the 1930′s German zeitgeist, with its emphasis on healthy-body, life-reform culture–and that our mass bodily expression for today could be found in the rabid individualism of the Wii.

Rabid Individualists
I was at the Columbus Arts festival this summer when I saw a demo of the Wii, with eight stations arranged arranged around two central pillars. The full body movements were striking in the context of a crowd, but most eye-catching was the awareness of the movers; It was completely different than someone dancing in public, in that the awareness was on the relationship between their proprioception and the feedback they were getting from the interface.
Viewed as a mover of masses of bodies, the Wii, like movement choirs or Socialist dance fests, begins to look by turns diabolical and inspiring. The bodies are in their individual spaces, but with a little imagination I can envision the people using Wii right now as a matrix made up of bodies not fully aware of the ways in which they’re being used. In light of a critical view of mediated culture it is appropriate to examine the values and aesthetics at the source of the movement generated by a Wii.
I’d like to reconstruct Laban’s Titan virtually using multiple movers on Wii interfaces. I’ve got some hacking to learn. . .





