Inside the Studio: CalArts School of Dance

From Garth Belcon, on The Other Side...

This past week, students took the reins of our Open House production. Dancers became stage managers, board operators and running crew, most of them having never performed the task they were assigned prior to their assignment. 

I have a great sense of satisfaction when students approach me and say things like “I really enjoyed doing that!” or “I’m surprised at how into crewing I was.” 

It is always a good thing for an artist of any concentration, to know more about the world that surrounds their canvas. It creates better art, better artists and better work. Knowing the particulars of the technical world that comes together in unison with the physical dynamic of the dancer lends to the synergy, and places an artist in a position to extract every creative ounce of energy from their being. 

In the D207 class I teach, I often remind students that the “other side” of the stage and their understanding of it and comfort with it prevents them from relying too heavily on others or “The kindness of strangers” in order to bring their creative work to life. 

I believe the more students crew and are involved with the behind the scenes movements of a piece, the more they understand this concept and the better they are for it as aspiring dancers and choreographers.  

-Garth Belcon, A.T.D.

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From Stephanie Nugent, on the Process of Creating

If there is ever a time to avoid providing students specific solutions they seem to so desperately seek, it is when they are creating.  I have been reading excerpts from Art and Fear to my Composition II students with a sincere hope they embrace a philosophy that one’s creative voice, though often a scary land in which to venture, is also sacred and entirely unique.  It is to be nurtured through 1) providing tools of craft, 2) supported by impartial and keen observations of work presented, 3) challenged through posing questions, and 4) offering insights and suggestions (only when clearly labeled as such) designed to invite a deeper and deeper investigation into their work. 

I went to a Quaker school for kindergarden through third grade, in which autonomy and self motivation was prized above all else. I have generally assumed that the above stated philosophy is widely seen as the gold standard throughout one’s educational development.  In recent weeks, however, I have grown to notice and appreciate how terrifying this open-ended approach may be to the student who seeks to make a “good” product above all else.  In these cases, the opinion of those perceived to be more knowledgeable becomes the drug of choice and autonomy, self discovery, and true artistic growth goes out the window. 

Last week, after having been asked by more than a couple of students what was “artistically unacceptable,”  I told the class this:  “there is only one thing I find unacceptable when it comes to your creative work, that if you fail to be simultaneously rigorous with your investigation and open to insights offered by your audiences.  What I should additionally said is that I would be disappointed if a student “abdicates artistic decision-making” (Art and Fear, by David Bayles & Ted Orland, page 38), out of fear that the work itself will not bring the understanding or accolade he/she seeks.

While I sincerely understand the lure of being directed through one’s creative process with an opinion-laden hand, I believe wholeheartedly this is ultimately a disservice to the student.  The work of the choreographer is to discover and reveal his/her artistic and personal philosophy through a rigorous practice of asking challenging questions, engaging in open discussion, and most importantly making choices.

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From Cynthia Young, on Health and Discipline

Health…

We are only five weeks in to the semester and already many students have been sick with everything from the flu to bronchitis and pneumonia.   Without good health there is very little our bodies can sustain, never mind trying to sustain the strenuous physicality of dance.  How, in a discipline that requires us to move and breathe together, is it possible to prevent the inevitable sharing of germs? Students who are sick and weak are not expected to be in class, yet they struggle knowing that if they are out for long periods of time their grades may suffer. 

This leads me to thoughts about…discipline.

Discipline in dance is not limited to the work inside the studio or classroom.  Discipline has to flow in the blood of every single artist who wants to succeed.  Discipline starts with the food with which we fuel our body.  It includes the amount of sleep we get and the manner in which we manage our time.  By ignoring even one of these areas it can change the way we cope with the day –to-day stress and physicality of what we do.  Discipline affects our emotional well-being right down to the proper care of our feet. Without discipline, a student can never become a performer and a performer will never become an artist. It takes energy to maintain the constant rigor of discipline, and when you get tired it is easy to let things slide. Just like the elusiveness of technique, it so easy to let discipline go and so hard to get it back.  So how do we make the day-to-day discipline less like work and more like fun?  For me it is rooted in loving what you do.  It is not hard to be generous with the people you care for or love.  It is not hard to be disciplined when you are in the right place doing what is fulfilling and rewarding.  Perhaps not every minute of every day, but at the end of the day you will know the energy has been well spent as you fall into a deep and restful sleep.

The truth is that even with the greatest discipline, one can still get sick.  Take care of yourself right from the start and be smart about not dancing or rehearsing when you are sick, even though you may have the best of intentions.  Sleep, drink lots of fluids, and keep your diet light.  Go back to class only when you are ready to invest completely and not just half-way in order to avoid an absence.  Being in class should mean you don’t want to be anywhere else.  It is what you love.  If that is true, discipline becomes just a way of life. 

Oh… and don’t forget to wash your hands.

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From Glen Eddy, on Emergent Curriculum

These first few weeks of the new school year I have been thinking a lot about the concept of "Emergent Curriculum" and how it relates to our work in the studio in Ballet class.

My 4 and ½ year old goes to a developmental pre-school (it is a co-op so I sometimes work there on my free days) which employs Emergent Curriculum. In a nut shell, the idea is to find out what the kids themselves are interested in, and join in their “play” - building sand castles for instance - from which they learn motor skills, social skills, eye hand coordination, creative thinking, and many other intangible and tangible lessons that are important for kids to learn before they go on to the academic pursuits of K through 12 and beyond. The guiding principal is that "play" is actually a highly evolved and vital part of education.

So if that is true for pre school kids, when does it stop being true?

And why do musicians “play” while dancers… do what ever it is we do?

On the face of it pre - professional level Ballet would not seem like a subject that lends itself naturally to the “do your own thing” method of Emergent Curriculum. Ballet is (some would say) the most strictly codified western dance form with the longest history of established standards, standards which students are expected to meet. Ballet is rigorous, demanding of almost militaristic discipline; standing in straight lines in - when it goes well - perfect lockstep.

But I think that Play with a capital "P" is still vital to studying Ballet. After all, Ballet was invented as a form of entertainment for the performers themselves, who were often Royalty, as well as for the audience. It is a pleasurable social interaction, like gossip, but in highly refined and abstract body language, it is the concentrated development of refined motor skills, which are actually a lot of fun to master, just like throwing a ball or swinging a tennis racket. Ballet is pretending, imitating, creating an illusion, and, of course moving to music, things that people have always done and will always do "just for fun".

What makes a dancer an artist is his or her ability - in spite of (or even because of) the impossibly high standards, the rigor, and sometimes seemingly insurmountable challenges - to continue to play. Dancers learn to dance by creating their own curriculum - within the form - every step of the way. 

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From Collin Connor, on Wrestling with Challenges

The new CalArts year is beginning. So far this semester, I have been working mainly with students who are returning, rather than the freshmen. I am watching the returning young artists in my Choreography class begin new projects.  In technique, everyone is hungry to be dancing, and finding new ways to move.  In the Choreographer Composer Seminar people are taking in fresh collisions between sound and movement.

Everyone is enthusiastic. Some are nervous about their challenges. However, even here, there is an enormous sense of possibility. I saw most of these students in April and May, but September does not feel anything like April. In April, it seemed like there was a lot to be done, a lot to keep track of, and time was running out.

 So, maybe, though this is being written now, it should really be read in April.

What intrigues me is that everyone is actually returning to challenges that have been facing them for some time. It does not matter whether it’s getting more space in hip joints, improving phrasing, or making work that has more atmosphere. I find it inspiring that the students, though still working on old problems, are working with radically different approaches and with new energy.

It seems to me that there really aren’t hugely different assignments or new curriculum. It is we who are different, and allowing ourselves to be different. We are allowing ourselves to come with fresh eyes and fresh hungers to the same old challenges. And with these fresh eyes and hungers we can wrestle new life from these old challenges.

It makes me think of all the artists, young and old, who have also wrestled with so many of the same challenges and dilemmas we face, artists who returned to their big questions, their unfinished business, again and again, but each time with fresh curiosity and drive.

I have decided, in the new work I am creating with seven students here, to work with music by Beethoven. I love the music, his Grosse Fugue, but what I really wonder is whether, in the music, I can hear things that he was wrestling with. I wonder if I can hear what made this piece a September, a beginning for him. I wonder if I can hear him attacking old problems in new ways, and discovering new sights on paths he had traveled before. That would be somewhere to start.

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Francesca Penzani: Stories to Tell

This week my new video work Stories to Tell premiered at the Sharon Disney Lund Dance Theater.

As for any video project it has taken an enormous amount of energy and work. But it is all worth it!  I finally received music samples from the wonderful composer Massimiliano Pace from Italy, and the past few days I have only had a few hours sleep.  When the collaborators are on different continents, the work becomes that much more challenging.  Changes can not simply be made on the fly.  Massimiliano needed more time to make, refine and finish his ideas for the video, so I asked him to send me what he had in order to present “stories” with a version of his music.  I started experimenting and playing with the possibility that the beautiful music may enhance the dance, the project.  Of course that only created more questions regarding the musical element of the project.

Does it fit with the content of the piece? Does it radically change it? Is it too powerful, too romantic, too repetitive? Or perfect? Does the piece become something else? Does it need to be reedited? Oh well, many different options surfaced in the past few days to join the two elements of visual imagery and music together.  There were a world of combinations, and it was extremely hard to choose the music as each piece gave a different feeling and emotion to the choreography.

This week I screened one version I chose.  I paid attention to the responses of the audience and how it looks and sounds on the big screen.  Now I will step away from it for a little while, let the project brew and revisit it later on with fresher eyes, and ears. See what Massimiliano feels about the music chosen for the piece and any other adaptations. Therefore I will make the final changes and retouches before distribution to festivals. Certainly this project is teaching me to be patient and let things evolve at the right pace. As things always turn out just how they are suppose to be.

Stories to Tell was developed during a one week residency at Poor Dog Group in downtown Los Angeles.  A lot of work was generated during the rehearsals, so much that it could have become a one- hour performance.  During the process, I used the difference spaces as stages and it became a "traveling" theatre piece.  However the aim was to make a video.

The idea was to create a series of vignettes on themes that I was interested to explore:  women sharing their stories, moments of memories and experiences.  With the wonderful creative energy of the performers and the crew, we generated an intense and enjoyable event.

This project involved a diversity of artists from different backgrounds, countries and experiences.  From Los Angeles Independent Theatre (ZOO Productions) Kristi Schultz to former Skirball Center, and Architectural Lighting Design, Terry Enroth. and Mulitmedia Artist/Composer Massimiliano Pace (whom I haven't seen in 10 years).

And last but not least an amazing group of CalArts Alumni from the schools of Dance: Iris Andersen, Jessica Emmanuel, Wen Chu- Yang, Theater: Matthew Mellinger, Film and Video:  Astra Price, Sandro del Rosario, Luis Lopez, Integrated Media Astra Price, Luis Lopez, Critical Studies: Luis Lopez as well as  CalArts Staff and Faculty (Gordon Kuroswki, Astra Price and myself) and Film and Video  graduating master students (Logan Kibens, Andy Schuler)

 

I am ever so grateful for their wonderful work, energy and artistry and to Poor Dog Group for letting me use "all of the spaces" and be supportive throughout the making of this project.

From Stephan Koplowitz, Summer

For those of us working as both students and educators, it has its own culture.

It is the one season that is more tied to “time” than to temperature in our minds.

Winter (its opposite), is really about temperature (how low or if you live in LA, how not so low).  Spring is about renewal and Fall is all about beginnings (the “new” school year, the “new” season of dance, art, music, theater, film, television) etc.

But summer is about time.

Our time.

The word “summer” in our guts carries with it, the promise, the potential, and the expectation of having “time.”

That means having “the time” to do (or not “do”), to fill, to design in any way we want.  We don’t associate any other season in that manner.

Summer carries the potential for “time off.”  Literally, “time” is no longer “on” schedule but “off” schedule.

We’re supposed to get time off.

One of the things I look forward to when starting our new school year is asking both faculty and students the simple question, “How was your summer?” With an emphasis on your.  Yes, I can say, how was your school year, but the word your doesn’t have quite the same power or meaning.

Summer is really a year unto itself.  It’s more ours, than any other time, or at least, that’s the expectation.

So, when I go around asking this question in the next couple of weeks, I’m hopeful that I’ll get detailed answers that will demonstrate true directorial vision, authorship and hopeful delight, in how one designed and experienced our summer.

Stephan Koplowitz

September 14, 2009

From DK, on Concepts in Lighting for Dance

One of the things I very much enjoy about my dance lighting classes is the small class size. Nine students is typical and allows for so much more to happen in the course. One can step away from the lecture and enter into conversations and allow for tangents of interest. 

Quickly becoming one of my favorite exercises is the task of lighting a song. Small groups of three students each pick their own song and must illustrate it with stage lights. Learning to read a channel sheet, pick color, guess at levels all in advance is a terrific exercise. Then going into the theater to actually progam the lighting cues and then run the cues along with the song; the students have a hands on and on-the-spot visual experience. 

I think one of the greatest challenges for designers and choreographers in the context of dance lighting is learning how to time the transition between the cues. This is what can give lift and energy to a piece. Experiencing the trials of lighting a song is a very good first step in learning how timing in lighting can be a great support to a dance piece.

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From Mitchell Rose, on Dance for Camera

In my Dance for Camera class, we just screened the students’ second projects of the semester. It’s been an exciting process... but I’ll give you a little back story first. We have two Dance for Camera teachers/classes in the School of Dance and in mine I stress narrative. That can be a challenge for many dancers—actually for any artist that works in abstraction. It certainly was for me. I was a choreographer with my own NYC-based company for many years. But then I decided to become a filmmaker and moved to Hollywood. This change in medium forced a huge shift in my artistic being. As choreographers, we’re often suckers for... let’s face it... whatever looks cool.  In film, that doesn’t work—there has to be a rigorous sequential logic. So when I introduce narrative into my dance-film classes, I see some students run up against this challenge—placing the abstraction of dance within the concrete structure of narrative filmmaking. To help keep everyone on track, for this project we did this: I had the students all write short stories. This gave the projects a firm narrative core. Then I had them adapt the short story into a dance. Then they took those dances and adapted those into dance-films, retelling them with film grammar, and freeing the dances from the bounds of space and time as only film can do. It was a fascinating process. But there’s no time to rest.  Get them up on YouTube quickly... because the Final Projects are due in a month!

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From Robin Cox, on Music for Dance

1 + 1 - 1 x  0 = 3

Certain conversations will always be a staple in my role of advising young choreographers in use of music.  A common starting point is a request for help in finding music that *compliments* the dance.  Music that compliments, reinforces, enhances, or is harmonious to whatever the choreographer wishes to convey through movement is a natural and often appropriate desire.  But, music that contrasts, or goes so far as to *conflict* or *oppose* dance movement may do more through bringing additional depth or broader potential for interpretation to the dance. Such music may even go so far as to accentuate the impact and intent of the movement itself, by the very contrast.

For example, if one wishes to enhance intensity in a frenetic movement sequence, it might just work better to have music slow and subtle as a contrast to the bodies in motion, instead of intense and frenetic music.  As further observation,  I left often left dance performance that was accompanied by very fast, active, and loud music thinking how slow and labored the dancers looked by contrast. No matter how very quick or fleeting the dancers moved on stage, the music seemed to negate some of that energy.   I think this also works on an emotional level as well. The tension between emotion intent in movement performed to music of an opposing emotional state may just create more collective impact.

There is also a third category, that of music providing a "clean slate" to the dance.  Music may compliment, music may contrast, and in this case, some music may even allow for a neutralizing or negation of a dance's interpretive limits.  In other words, if a choreographer is concerned that their movement's emotional qualities are too heavy-handed, the likely interpretation of the movement is too narrowly focused, the stylistic context of the movement too tightly defined, etc. etc.,  choose music that will counteract or diminished these issues.  Music for this purpose would not be that of compliment, nor that of clear contrast, but perhaps music that the emotionally neutral, very abstract in sound relationships, or stylistically undefined.   I often think this third category is under-appreciated as a means to create dance-works infused with a broad palette of possible interpretations for an audience.  It also may push an audience more towards active engagement with the dance, if the intent, meaning, or purpose, between music and movement is not so very obvious.

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