RWDNY - Pearl Sea Project (2)

12th July, 2008

A little further on into the project.
I’ve discovered that I hate learning movement from video.

Movement is a transmission of energy – not a series of arms and legs in certain positions.
That choreography was created in a certain moment in time; it had meaning then.
Now if one of those dancers came to teach me (the way Ling Fen does), then it makes sense. It is a transmission of meaning. I receive the quality of movement from what I am able to sense from the human being in front of me.

But video tape is a moment frozen in time. Meaning is not mediated by live, organic energy.
So we are learning dead structures; okay, sure, why not. It’s a matter of going in the front door or back. If the choreography is strong enough then as we do, we will discover (create) the meaning that arising from it. But there’s part of me that resists this Frankenstein work. Why do this when there are throbbing, living dancers in front of you? Why not create something that’s relevant to here and now and this particular group of movers?

Ok, I’m just tired, and this particular sequence makes no sense to me. What is this “Cambodian trio” – why are we being Cambodian sculptures?

19 July, 2008

One of those long RWDNY rehearsals where I seem to be waiting around, just soaking things in. I’m exhausted today – mainly from my morning tai chi with Victor. Did we really do so much? Or is it the accumulated weariness of the week? Seriously – this afternoon I was wiped out. I took a nap and when I woke up, my body felt so heavy, I just wanted to roll over and sleep again.

Working with big groups is tricky. It’s taxing to be hanging around. I feel a bit out of it. I like watching the dancers; but at the same time, I wonder: what am I doing here?

當一位演員覺得來與不來，確時與遲到都好像沒有大分別那麼，我會問:為什麼要花時間縯?我走有什麼意思? And so there exists an unspoken contract between actor and director: I’ll respect your rehearsal time if you respect the mine…

Still, it’s always valuable to watch. I particularly enjoy watching their main dancer, Ling Fen. I could watch her all day. Her movement is like clear water, so effortless and transparent. And the quality of attention, so lightly held; even when she is tired, even when she has a hurt back. She’s always present. They say in tai chi that your grasp should be like holding a bird: too tightly, and you’ll squash the bird; too loose, and the bird will fly away. Ling Fen’s movement etches the air, leaving an afterglow. Seriously, I could watch her all day.