Actually most of my choreographing comes from when I am either insensate while falling asleep or trying to avoid waking up, or in the moments when I have a slight short-circuit and gaze off at fuzzy nothing for long periods. Then something goes k-ching! and I think, “oohhh! that’s a well fucking wicked idea”, write it down, and inflict it on my dancers the following rehearsal. This especially happens when the rehearsals are about half-way through and I need to seriously evaluate what the fuck I am doing, and know if I continue on the way I’m going it’ll all amount to not very much.
Knowing all this, when I decide that 15 seconds is too long for a piece of music to dance to, and thinking the next new perfect length for a dance piece is under 5 seconds, and I bump into Emile in the city just when I’m about to message him, it all falls into place at Missing Link Records, where I buy the small slice of genius that is Agoraphobic Nosebleed‘s Altered States of America. One hundred songs, twenty minutes, all on a 3 inch CD. Perfect for the section that takes us from strangling the crap out of each other to the zombie vampire lesbian sex orgy.
Or to be really accurate, the song cycle worthy of a Wagner opera, Twelve Days of Sodom is. Twelve songs, 59 seconds. Lyrics that make me wonder what on earth Arts Victoria are doing funding me, then laugh alot and fall over because they are.
And somehow this all gets combined with a post-mortem monologue on how I died, and the frost-bitten, hallucinating, dehydrated, broken-legged eternal falling through a scree-field below a glacier in Touching the Void. The tagline for that disturbing movie of deeply unsuccessful mountaineering and Boney M songs is, “The closer you are to death. The more you realize you are alive”. I think hell is more like, “The closer you are to life. The more you realize you are dead”