This footage was captured on a whim while improvising in studio 305 in the Theater & Dance building at University of Colorado-Boulder. The original impromtu writing session, where I wrote my thesis live, lasted 45 min. This version, edited by me, is closer to 3 min.
Live Writing of my Thesis on Skype
After writing a formal thesis paper describing and analyzing my interdisciplinary thesis project, Skin & Pulp, the paper fell flat. Here I am posting the revised version, where the BODY of the paper was written LIVE over Skype, and is now an extension of the work rather than a reflection.
I will periodically post the screen shots from those sessions, and welcome any dialogue that results.
Skin & Pulp, 2012, was created collaboratively with sound artist and composer, Hugh Lobel, visual artist, Kyle Monks, and dance artists, Lauren Beale, Sarah Bowers, Charlie Dando, Brooke Gessay, Adam Griff, Skye Hughes, and Cortney McGuire.
Skin & Pulp
THE BODY OF THE PAPER
You are invited to view the following live writing sessions that occurred over Skype in real time.
Please view them in any order, just as Skin & Pulp was consumed in any order that the audience was drawn to.
There has been no editing of this section of the paper. All misspellings, non-capitalizations, and misquotes will remain as they are. Messy and raw. Poetic and poignant.
This section [was] live.
This section is the body of the paper.
This section [is] live.
Overlapping of the Installations
I began with the body.
Then, there were 4 movement installations. Separate. Pieces. Rehearsed
separately. In their own cocoon of space. All was good.
Then we merged the installations together. And, here are my notes.
“I was distracted, I missed the point. I missed the body. I lost you. I lost myself. Are we concerned how this goes?”
So, I had to trust. To trust that this is what the work needed. To see the skin & pulp of the body.
I read about a curated evening of work presented by Movement Research in NY, curated by AUNTS, a dance collective of sorts. They had a warehouse space, and they sectioned it off by tape on the floor. Each artist had a section. A piece of the space. A part of the whole.
a part of the whole.
And the work co-existed. In the space. Simultaneously.
So, we let our work settle into this chaos. We had to let our bodies settle into the chaos. We had to allow for permeability of the installations.
I found a description of what happens in the permeability of the cells, when they share their insides.
“….by causing large areas of membrane to flow from one place to another, or to fold, indent, evert, or pinch off, carrying with these movements substances bound to one or the other surface of the membrane, or embedded in it;” (source later)
WE had to fold into each other. Indent. Evert. Pinch off and take with us what we knew from our own installation then take it into the next.
I think it is how I see things. There is no one way to see things. Yes, making a stance. Standing. is good.
But, there is always another way to stand. Another way to see. Another way.
I couldn’t just say one of these installations brought me to the depth of the body. IT was the combination, the blend, the folding in on each other that was more indicative of the whole.
When the pieces were still separate….in the space together, but still separate, they were not much different from our proscenium gaze.
they needed to spill. into each other.
I asked the dancers “who wants to leave?, who wants to stay?” “how does it feel when someone enters your space?”
Their answers in their bodies became the content for the overlapping.
Charlie and Skye were ready to explore. Upon entering Brooke and LAuren’s, LAuren felt violated. She left to debate cheese with Adam, the taste of cheese, the desire for more cheddar, and Sarah felt betrayed, throwing silverware wildly to the floor.
I knew I needed to leave my corridor, it was time. And, I found Cortney.
We needed to find our bodies among the noise. Among the chaos.
We don’t always have the space for focus on just one thing. IT is the multitude of overlap, the texture of our flesh, the pleats and folds that lead us into the deepest crevasses.