Final Project Mira Berkson

Artist Statement:
I am interested in diving deep into the simple musings that are too often left only to children. As a solo dancer early in her career, I currently enjoy relishing in the richness of simplicity. My most comfortable context of movement is in playful, game-like scenarios with other people, where I can be free to create on-the-spot fun and connection. These aspects of my work are also a result of my variety of artistic interests, including comedy, poetry, and the occasional doodle. All of these mediums feed off of each other.

I am want to complicate and indulge in my brain’s tangential excitement for new. Through practices that force me to zero in on the creation of material, I am able to channel that tendency into rich moments. Lost in thought, I need channels to fit it all in. It’s delicious.

Director’s notes:

Out of fear of harmful outcomes, I don’t do drugs and I don’t play basketball… I recognize life’s fragility and at the same time I don’t feel like I do so in a way that stifles my zest. I take lots of risks, just not many physical ones. I want to find the power that can come from this approach, while also exploring how I might let loose a bit, and how I do things like walk in the dark and ride airplanes—it’s not a coincidence that I’m still alive! 

This was an especially timely subject for me because I will soon be departing for 11 weeks of international travel. There is something about being so far away that makes me feel very exposed and vulnerable. Even the prospect of flying reminds me of the numerous crashes and bombings that we so often hear about. Going to a new environment reminds me of all ofthese dangers—yet, there is not much about being in my current location that is particularly safer. There are numerous accounts of people being sexually assaulted on this campus, there is a giant gun supplier a few miles away. Even driving to a concert in Des Moines a few weeks ago put me at risk for getting hurt in a car crash. I have probably almost died more than I realize. And yet—I don’t.  

There are many things keeping me alive. Maybe it’s G-d or some other force or even the celestial interconnectivity of all there is, was, and will be. I am thankful for this, but cannot, of course, fully trust it. It was interesting, then, to force myself to explore the emotional and physical space that I created in the second part of the piece. 

I discovered how fun it can be to do simple movements in this piece. My “delicious movement” at the beginning of this course consisted mostly of full-body, large, and rounded movements. Dance has become a place where my excitement and willingness to get weird has been an asset and not a hindrance. The first half of my piece, which has movements that primarily focus on one part of my body at a time, is the part that feels most “delicious” to me. I now see how specificity can be what makes movement feel powerful, not just physical largeness.  

In the metaphor/reality of my title, I am both mother and child, so I spent a lot of time wondering how I might embody these two aspects of the same character. It became evident through in-class critical response that the child aspects was most clear to my classmates. This at first concerned me, but I then realized that it was the childlike aspect of my dance that was the most imitative, with the relationship aspect of myself to myself to the world being evidenced in a more replicative way, particularly through aspects of carefulness and control that are part of my movements (*modes of rep rdg*). Thinking about different modes of representation was helpful for me in tracing the logic of my piece. Along similar lines, this piece also helped me discover the power of my subconscious in dance. There were moments that felt like I was throwing them in randomly during the process which ended up being key in articulating an arc of the piece. What if we were always to believe in these instincts, without searching for a need to justify everything? 

While I embraced movement that I was not logically clear on at the moment of choreographing, this is not how I approached my choices for other elements in the piece. I decided to start choreographing without choosing sound, a less simple costume, or background imagery in mind. I discovered what the piece was about throughout the process, and any of these elements would have had too much power in dictating meaning for my liking. I am now very glad I made the choice to keep my non-movement elements minimal. The rawness of having the only sounds being that of my breath and body turned out to capture a feeling of both exposure and power that I was exploring with the piece.  

I would like the audience to take away an interest in the power gained from being careful and safe. I find this especially important in a culture that too often values wild-sounding (and often physically risky) experiences, which leads many to lose sight of the beauty that can come from a more cautious approach. In the setting of this showing at Grinnell, it is also true that there will be several audience members who know me well. I sometimes worry that I am defined by my ‘louder’ traits, such as being funny and occasionally a bit goody/all over the place. I enjoy these parts of myself, but am especially interested in showing these people close to me an intimate lens into a different facet of me. 

Journal entries:
This process contained moments of frustration, boredom, and excitement. It was helpful to remember how I felt after previous rehearsals during ones that left me feeling on a different place on the spectrum. I had ones when I felt completely frustrated, only to later discover a movement idea when I wake up the next morning. I had a showing that frustrated me because everyone saw something so different than what I intended. I had times that I was elated to hear gasps and curiosities from my classmates. For now, I’ll share some key questions I asked myself:

How do I use movement to answer my brain questions? (4/14)
How do I make it a narrative? How do I give it a point without making it cheesy and obvious? Is there a shift– maybe from in to out? (4/17) How do I give a sense of community? Do I have a discovery? Is it a discovery of people watching me? Am I afraid? Am I loving? Will I be literally preventing danger? What am I afraid of? (4/20)

Checklist paper:

Doris Humphrey’s Checklist has allowed me to intentionally consider the ways that I am putting together my dance during this more high-pressure time closer to the process. There are some items that felt less relevant to me, while others served as a reminder for something I had hardly thought about. Here are my musings on my piece as it relates to these checklist items. 

I don’t find myself particularly drawn to symmetry. A lot of the visual balance that happens with my movement comes with an extended arm on one side and an extended leg on the other, though I have been breaking out of this a bit with some movements that exist with the full part of either the right or left half of my body. Lifeless is not the word I’d use for symmetry, though, but Doris makes some key statements about this idea that I do agree with. For example, her use of the word “ritual” and her claim that symmetry is good for beginnings and endings seemed important to me. Without this intention, my ending moment currently is symmetrical, and I think it does bring the piece back to a place of calm. I’m also interested in her claim “Beginners in choreography behave exactly like children in their choice of movement,” particularly because I am trying to emanate some childlike qualities in this piece. Maybe more symmetry would suit me well! 

A lot of my movements are pretty multi-dimensional, so I don’t feel like I’m lacking too much on Doris’ second checklist item. I curve my body, reach, crawl, fall, etc. While I might not be stuck in a 2-D space, I would like to interrogate how I am using multiple dimensions. Where do I reach or move besides side-to-side? How can the rest of my body, besides just my limbs, explore a more multi-dimensional space? While movement might feel varied within my body, how can I use different dimensions to create a more interesting visual that translates to an audience? 

The eye is faster than the ear! I don’t want my music to be TMI, with people’s ears working to play catchup while their eyes have moved on. I want music or sound to be a layer added onto an already established piece. However, music helps a lot when improvising and giving me a feeling or idea to work with, but I really don’t want my movement to “lazily lean on the music to carry it along.” Currently, because I haven’t found music that works for me, I think I will probably want to have no music unless something clicks. In performing without music, I also want to work to keep the same quality of movement that was inspired by sounds I’ve worked with, even when dancing in silence. 

The fourth checkpoint is very useful. I have a lot of specific movements, and perhaps I could make them more exaggerated through dynamics, or, contrary to the previous paragraph, music choicesOne choice would be to have my movements match up with specific notes/sounds in a soundscape, which could help as I translate the piece to the new space. However, maybe silence can have a similar effect of sharpening. I also hope the magic of the cohesive, overall idea of the piece becoming clearer on stage will happen, because that’s an aspect of the work I am not firm on yet.  

I haven’t considered the audience’s potential for getting bored during my piece. And, if anything, I’ve been concerned about my piece being too short rather than too long, because seven minutes doesn’t seem like it could feel long at all. But it very much could, I guess! Having some sort of drastic shift could keep the audience engaged. My current nail-picking-eye-contact moment will hopefully be striking and invigorating. Also, I have been playing in using repetition but changing movements slightly, to play with an audience’s expectations and keep them on their toes. 

I disagree about Doris’ claim that the ending is 40% of the dance, but I do agree that the ending could be about 40% of what people remember, and will help them have a takeaway. This is especially true for folks who are less versed in dance or the arts in general. However, I think that folks with a more creative eye will be more thoughtful and attentive about the whole piece.  

My dance has a lot of contrasts and moments, and I would like to find more moments of monotony, actually. I think this will give the audience breathing room. In thinking about avoiding being “medium,” though, I wonder about my section where I aim to move more freely and with my whole body a bit more. I wanted this section originally to be very fast so that I may make a big contrast, but that doesn’t feel natural, nor does it go with the mindfulness I’m aiming for. I need to find ways to have a stark contrast between the two larger sections of my piece without speed being the main factor. 

Since I’m currently planning on not using music (subject to change), I should still acknowledge that I’m working with silence and my own body’s sounds. I can contrast the silence through large movements that were created through improvising to very full music. Some questions I might consider: what does silence say? What would be the “natural” thing to do in dancing as a “slave” to the music of silence? 

I don’t think we’ve gotten to a stage where we’re receiving advice, so this checklist point is not super relevant yet. However, there have surely been moments when people have said statements of meaning that were very contrary to my intention. This can be super cool, as some of the magic of this abstract art form is the room for interpretation. However, when multiple people share that they saw me as more of an animal or primordial entity, I need to understand the validity of that. From that specific feedback, I have chosen to not use my soundscape and have more movements/maybe my hair in pigtails to establish that I am a human. In moments like these, I exercise my humility by realizing that my attempts to create my intended meaning were not effective. 

At this stage, where I have a lot of material choreographed, and a lot of time for my mind to wander while I’m not in the studio, it’s easy to intellectualize and ponder about meaning. How can I think through dance? I’ve been doing that for a while, I guess, but with a dance that already has a lot of different chunks, I want to make sure the movement that I motivate seems cohesive with it. My body is more in tune with what the audience takes away than my thought process is.  

I have an ending, and it’s helped a lot to have that so I know the journey my dance is going on. My more free and big movements in the second half of the piece will eventually have to come back to the symmetrical stillness which mirrors my beginning at the end. However, I still have a big gap in how I will get to that point, but that is a nice, focused way of creating movement ideas, so I’m glad I haven’t left the ending to the end! I will also need to think of how I will emotionally get to the end point I’ve chosen. While the movement is a repetition of my beginning, I want my ending to feel more powerful and sturdy, rather than explorative.