A broken watch with perfect timing...

It's been a while since I've updated my blog, not from a lack of artistic endeavors, but rather due to the loss of time while tackling these endeavors!

Luminarium is now just 9 days away from its New Hampshire debut at the Seacoast Fringe Festival in Portsmouth, NH, and the time we have spent rehearsing has (as usual) flown by. You can view more about the festival here, but for those who are too far away to make it, allow me to describe to you the process of my newest piece: Bus Stop.

At first, I began with the most comedic sections of the piece. It was a fun experience for everyone involved, and I believe it was the right choice for me to start at this point. It provided a fun, albeit somewhat superficial, range of relationships between characters, and gave me a high point of joyous energy from which to expand. From there, I began working on more intimate sections until, finally, we arrived at the last section of the piece (viewable below).

I recently sent an email to my dancers addressing my original and current thoughts on the piece, and I believe my 3am choreographic-mad-man-mind hit it right on the nail:

I know this sounds sappy for a relatively comical piece, but the truth is there is more to it than comedy, movement and expressions. My original working title was going to be "Stories" and I think that's what this piece really is. It's a collection of stories: "What if..." "What the-..." "Well, hello..." that shift into "May I?" and finally "I'm here." The final section should be a moment in which everyone is physically pulled out of the daze of individual traveling, and a moment in which we become so involved with our neighbors that we are not only having moments of emotional connection, but we have to physically rely on them as we spin from one neighbor's arms to the next, and trust they'll catch us. That's how I view this section, and I think that now that the movement is in your bodies, we will soon reach the emotional components that go with each minor relationship. It's almost there. Almost!

It has been so inspiring to watch the characters I presented to my cast on day one develop in directions I both anticipated and did not. In many ways, they are the characters I envisioned, yet the part I did not expect was the sincerity of the relationships that my cast formed between one another. By the time we reached the end of the final section, I no longer felt I had to direct their thoughts, feelings, and movements, as each of my dancers has learned how his or her character thinks, feels and moves. They know how to interact with one another in a very convincing way, and as one of my dancers put it this evening, "there is a real sense of community" that develops throughout the piece.

But now you might be wondering about the title of this post. And well, I was wondering too...for quite a while! For weeks, I have been on the search for a watch for Mark. As a monied, uptight businessman, Mark needs a watch that is expensive-looking, yet easily removed by his duet partner. Despite both our efforts, everything we found was too cheap, too girly, too buckle-y, too plastic-y... Until last night, when I had the miraculous discovery of the perfect watch at none other than the local Boomerang just one hour before our final rehearsal! There it was: The perfect, gold, nice-looking watch with an elastic expandable cuff, cast aside at this little thrift store for just three dollars, waiting for me to find it.

It's moments like these when I remember that everything is going to go smoothly. All the big issues and little kinks, all the last-minute adjustments and the long-awaited deadlines will all come together and work out just fine. Because even though this greatly sought-after little watch is broken, it still has an excellent sense of timing.

I'll trade you: My thoughts for a ride.

So much has happened over the past few months, and at the same time, so little progress...or so it seems!

Luminarium took a one-month break after our gala, and I have to admit it was met with a variety of emotions from this Artistic Director. It was necessary both mentally and physically, as we'd spent the past 5 weeks performing four traveling shows (plus one additional one for a few of us), so it was a wonderful moment to relax and regroup. But at the same time, life felt so empty. There was such a void of creative energy in my day-to-day life that I truly felt out of sorts.

So this is my big epiphany after weeks of feeling artistically frustrated: It is not enough for me to produce art. I am not satisfied when I simply create work, complete it even. I need to live it. I need to discuss it at length with my peers. I need the thrill of choreographing, shared not only with the people performing it, but with those viewing it from the outside. I need that creative chatter, that dialogue, that moment of contradicting viewpoints, those even sweeter moments of excited agreement in taking the work in a new direction. As one of our dancers (and more accurately, a friend and artistic peer) said to me last night, what I'm describing is the process, and in our crunch to fit rehearsals into a space rented by the hour, with our car meters eating away our quarters and our schedules packed each minute, there isn't time for this process. No time to study the piece verbally as well as physically as a company.

I remember I once attended the MFA performance at Smith College with a good friend and artist Rachel Chen, only to realize after the show that it was cold, dark and late. We were in Northampton, at the mercy of the PVTA bus back to Hampshire, and then a second bus back to Mount Holyoke. It must have been freshman or sophomore year, because neither of us had a car, and we were facing a long trip home.

Jim Coleman (future advisor, choreography professor, and eternal inspiration and mentor) was seen darting through the lobby, and we quickly asked him for a ride. While he couldn't take us all the way to South Hadley, he promised to bring us to Hampshire so we could catch an earlier bus and stay warmer a little longer. I didn't know him that well at the time, so it startled us both when we hopped in the car, started to drive and heard him exclaim "THOUGHTS, PLEASE!" I remember glancing at Rachel and really not knowing what to say. This had been a high-level thesis concert, and I wasn't sure if I was at liberty to reveal my honest reaction to the performance. I'm pretty sure we mumbled something vague about it being good, and quickly realized that this was not a good enough response. It was as if we were expected to share our thoughts and critiques with Jim in exchange for passage to Hampshire. So I dug right in and told him everything: the good and the bad, the exciting and the expected, the things I would have left alone and the things I would have taken further. It ended up being an incredible little journey in that dark car flying down 47, discussing our artistic visions and laughing at the oddities of "art."

Fast-forward to last night, feeling a let-down of creative energy as I left the studio after rehearsal and headed to my car. I still didn't realize that my heaviness came from my need to discuss where my new piece was going, and the little intricacies of its relationships. I am so grateful to have ended up spending the evening with Mark over crappy desserts and dodging the rain, discussing at great length something as basic as shoes and lighting within the piece! It was such a relief to hear his thoughts, to throw out mine, and to toss them back and forth. Of course, I am equally grateful for the relationship I have with Kim. Whether it's a piece, a performance opportunity, or a crazy idea for a project, I know she is there to gather my jumble of artistic legos and help me piece them together in a way that's a little more structurally sound.

So in short, let's all try to discuss the artistic process more, as we drive along in our little Luminarium mobile, headed for "great things."

Chihuly Photographic Entry

For anyone unfortunate enough to not be living in the Boston area right now, here's a little taste of the incredible blown glass artwork exhibit at the M.F.A. by Chihuly. It is a beautiful show, both in craftsmanship and conception. As I wandered the rooms and took in the sights, I truly felt that this artist had captured many of the things I aspire to: Where I set still visual art into motion, he seems to have captured motion in these still pieces of glass; and where I yearn to work with light in unusual ways in my art and choreography, his work seems to glow from a light within.

Remarkable.

Please enjoy these images and my thoughts...

My favorite part of the exhibit: Ikebana Boat

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Louise, glancing at her favorite vase (aka: trying to think up a quick way to steal it!)...

While I didn't care much for the vases with the chunky entwined flowers, I absolutely loved this one! The juxtaposition of fluid, life-like leaves against the surface of a flawless, traditional vase was wonderfully striking. Also, after loading these photos from my camera onto the computer, and complaining to myself that they'd uploaded in a jumble, I was surprised to find a resemblance between the coloring and movement quality of this piece...

...with Justine in her beautiful Mohiniyattam costume! Just as classical Indian dance has a fluidity juxtaposed with its statue-esque qualities -

- so, too, does this work of art! (And the colors...look how they match!)

...

These pieces, at first glance, did not seem nearly as elaborate. Yet, the closer I got to them, and the longer I stared, I began to love them the most. To me, these pieces truly embody movement. They are the wind billowing through the glass, captured in time. They are fluidity frozen into a form. So beautiful.

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Inspiration behind the work.

It's amazing to see what inspires artists in relation to the work they create!

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From here on out, I will simply post some of the images I feel best capture the experience of the exhibit. If you have the opportunity to go, please do!

So many colors. So much light. So much fanciful creativity.

A Huge Post: Work changes, life changes, and artistic milestones...

A fellow commuter watches the train rush into the station as we all stand there, tired from a long day's work, wondering what tomorrow will hold.

Work Changes ~

I my case, I stood there waiting for the train excited to think that this was my second-to-last commute into the North End for a long time. Not to say I didn't enjoy that commute, or working at the Paul Revere House, because I did! And of course, it felt so short-lived to have finally become comfortable in the museum, with the history and with my coworkers, but sometimes changes come when they're least expected, and not when we try for them.

For two years, I have searched for a full-time job, and on that day I finally had one! Two weeks later, I am just beginning to become adjusted at my new home, as the Creative Services Associate for New Rep Theatre in Watertown (in residency at the Arsenal Center for the Arts). So exciting! In the interviews, my bosses seemed apologetic that I would be wearing many hats each day from graphic design projects to social networking sites, and from website updates to creating promotional video pieces. For anyone who knows me, my interests in the arts, or has at least seen my seemingly disjointed resume, I could not believe it. How perfect. Finally, a job that will challenge me in every regard, while teaching me skills that will prove useful in my own career as an artist and dancer, and one in which I can grow and expand while supporting the ARTS! I cannot begin to express how happy I have been since receiving that call, but it has certainly been a change.

The empty theatre between my Creative Ballet classes.

For one thing, this change, while so positive in so many ways, does mean that I will have to give up teaching through Cambridge Performance Project. Those kids have been such a huge part of my life since taking on the job back in September. They've made me laugh, dance, sing...yell, lose my vocal chords, and go absolutely insane chasing after them. They've had their good days, they've had their bad. They've allowed me to teach them dance, while I learned from them patience and trust. They are all such wonderful children, and it has been such an intense experience working with them for so long. It is a difficult thought to realize I have finally made it to that point of comfort with them, only to pass them off to another teacher. Very upsetting for me, and for them.

The stickers I gave my kids as they left. Hearts; both to show my love for my students and for our mutual love of dance. (I'm sure this was lost on my three-year-olds, but they were at least thrilled by how shiny they were!!)

Me, with my older class. Here's hoping they keep dancing!

Life Changes ~

Obviously this heading applies to all parts of this post, but I am trying to come to peace with giving up my 3 or 4 part-time job juggling act and instead carving out some time for myself and my relationships. Be it trying to go out more with my roommate (did someone say Bruins / game 7 tonight??) or spending time with my boyfriend, I need to focus on this as a larger part of my day, week, life. My work and my passion for the arts tend to consume me, so instead I have been trying to find simple ways to brighten my day, and allow myself to breathe now and then.

Something peaceful; something calming.

In fact, that's why I'm sitting here writing this blog post. Hopefully soon, if not later tonight, I will have a chance to post some recent beautiful photos for another Photographic Entry...

Artistic Milestones ~

That's right. The Gala is fast approaching, and with it comes the happiness, pressure, excitement, and overall overwhelming emotions that accompany one full successful year as a company. Truly unbelievable. (For more on our latest performances, please do check out our blog at www.LuminariumDance.blogspot.com.)

The beautiful Gala invitations that were mailed in the hopes of gathering even more of our community to celebrate with us.

One year. And yet it feels like it's been a part of our lives...forever. I mentioned to Kim last week, after touring the BCA Calderwood, that trying to remember the year in between college and Luminarium is such a blur for me, only in that I literally can't remember the days without Luminarium as a constant presence in our lives. Kim and I talk night and day, and sometimes in between. We send emails, we text...we're one dove away from carrier pigeon messages...it has taken over our thoughts, our inspirations, our time, and our lives. But I think I speak for both of when I say that we also love it. We have found such a solid support base in the Boston community; such lovely dancers who are dedicated to the company and their art. A wonderful network of arts administration gods and goddesses who have helped us shape who we are today...

It makes me so excited to think that in just one year, we have started so much more than a company. It has become so much bigger than us over the months. With work, we can keep our momentum going until we are a solid, constant presence in the Boston arts scene. I'm determined, so is Kim, and so are our collaborators.

Separately, or not so separately, we are keeping our fingers crossed. Just applied for a grant that will drastically change our company for the better. It will allow Kim and me to fully explore what it means to be "Luminarium" and will give us the chance to fully embrace dance as art (or in my case...to set the visual arts into motion). So if you believe in the power of positive thought, please send us your good vibes, so that this July we can announce the most incredible project of Luminarium's short career.

So come celebrate ONE YEAR with us on Sunday, June 26th.
Tickets can be purchased at www.LuminariumDance.org/e-store

As always, many thanks for taking the time to read.
Merli

...for the stars

Last Friday night, Luminarium presented LEAP: Leading & Engaging Artistic Pursuits. The show went very smoothly and received a warm and enthusiastic review from its audience. For this post, I would like to focus my thoughts on my piece ...for the stars performed by Amyko Ishizaki and accompanied by musician Robert Flax. Beautiful costuming by Meghan Boehmer, and most importantly: colorful, fun and insightful artwork contributed by 6-8 year olds at the Jordan Boys & Girls Club of Chelsea, Mass. The following images were taken by the talented Steph Hodge, found at www.stephhodge.com.

The piece begins with images of children's future careers, as they speak about their goals.

Children tell us their plans for the future; shown here are the projected drawings on the stage.

Amyko rises as the lights fade, plucks glow-in-the-dark stars from the sky, and proceeds to plant them on the ground as the children interpret the phrase "Reaching for the stars."

Amyko dances, interacting with the stars, while being serenaded from above by musician Rob Flax on violin.

Her skirt, designed in collaboration with Meghan Boehmer (who also did a wonderful job constructing it!), shows yellow taffeta on the outside, hiding 15 feet of white muslin within.

Towards the end of the piece, Amyko unravels herself across the stage, revealing more children's drawings: this time of their future dream houses. She eventually ends the piece in a sophisticated pencil skirt, having shed the layers of childhood behind her.

Creating this piece has been a largely collaborative experience, from interviewing the children for dialogue to incorporating their voices into the beautiful auditory narrative interpreted by Rob Flax, and from working with Amyko to choreograph her movements to collaborating with Meghan on a costume that would not only portray a childish Alice in Wonderland feel, but could integrate Amyko's movements and the children's drawings into it as well. It has been a piece (like most of my work!) that has evolved with each new addition to the team. With the children came context, with the dancer came embodiment, with the musician came emotion, and with the costumer came meaning.

The most heart-wrenching aspect of this piece for me, is that I originally went in to interview these kids with a preset series of questions, the most important one being "You know the phrase, 'Reaching for the stars?' Tell us in your own words what that means." To my shock, of the eight children in the room, only one seemed to recognize the phrase. All the other seven looked painfully confused, even when I prompted them with "You know, like following your dreams. Have you ever heard that?" No. They hadn't! After a series of uncomfortable moments, I worried that my plans for this piece were falling through, but coming home and re-listening to the interviews, I realized that what I had was far better than a simple response to an age-old phrase; instead, it showed children puzzling their way through and interpreting it as best they could. My favorite is the child who says "It means you're reaching for a star and you put it in your hand, and you make a wish on the star in your hand." What a beautiful interpretation! Still, it bothered me to realize just how differently I was encouraged as a child. It made me want to run around the neighborhood shouting "Tell your kids they can grow up to be anything if they just try! Make them realize they don't have to be limited by their means!!"

The Final Piece:
It is not my goal in this post to describe every moment, but rather to give my own interpretations of key moments in the piece... For instance, I begin with Amyko taking stars from the sky and placing them in a line across the ground. She plays with each, examining and interacting, as if trying out different paths and identities. Ultimately, she enters the stage space, coming into herself and acting on her own. When she finally unfurls her skirt, watching her childhood unravel behind her, she is both coming into adulthood and realizing it is time to choose. In one rehearsal I told Amyko and Rob to think of the section in which she walks down the line of stars in her pencil skirt as a moment to ignore the childhood skirt on the ground and to walk straight ahead until acknowledging each star. You might not remember all your experiences as a child, I told them, but you will definitely remember a few important goals, dreams or ambitions that carried through into adulthood. Try to make this section say that!

The piece ends with my favorite quote from our young fashion designer to-be: "I don't want to be a model just to get money. I wanna be a model so I can show who I really am, and how I really am inside, because if I can't show my fashion, then I'm not anyone." There's a lot of wisdom to be gained from these kids, and it was incredible to see a few of them after the show run up onto the stage to examine the skirt and tell me "I made this one! This is my dream house in the future." I think they're on the right track, and I thank the Boys & Girls Club, my amazing co-director Kim Holman, and the 50+ kickstarter contributors to Luminarium for making this experience available to these kids. Thank you.