I’m showing a new dance tomorrow at Bryant Lake Bowl. I will have to talk after the piece so I thought I’d write down some thoughts here to help clarify what I’ve wanted to say with this work.
The work is a duet. The piece is more of a narrative than I usually make in that I’ve followed the emotional arc of a somewhat turbulent relationship. In fact, I almost titled it “Volatile,” but ended up simply calling it “Brown Rocket.” The dancers start out facing and mirroring each other. I wanted to establish a playfulness between the two, matching the music (composed by my good friend, Josh Wetjen). The movement soon turns more violent, but the playful undercurrent stays. Both are throwing blows, if one more than the other, but neither really intend to hurt. Some things are merely defense habits. They counter each other and sometimes find they are doing the same dance, side by side.
There is a repeated hand plant to the face. Mine to hers. It’s as if it says, “Are you uncomfortable? Good. So am I.” These two can’t seem to stay away from each other, though. Even with all the drama and blood drawn. There is some respite, but I chose to focus more on the conflict and have kept any calmness brief, like between bells at a boxing match. It ends in an ambiguous buzz. Not resolving, not peaceful, but alive and working. Building instead of tearing down. My hope is that there is a realism to it.
I have to say I had the lyrics to Harrod & Funck’s “Lion Song” in my head while making this dance. This piece really is about two people who know, but often don’t understand, each other. Although, it seems that every battle they survive, they find that their opposite edges fit together tightly. And at the boundaries they share, they can see far into the other’s land. They cross over for short visits. Once in a while they will recognize the flora. Still, there’s no telling, yet, if the fruit of either will feed the other. But the sun setting hums to them, “I will not wait for you,” and they, sleeping in each other’s arms, are glad for it.