A friend whom I hadn’t seen for ages – another dancer of course – was offering to teach me some of the more terror-inducing throw-yourself-at-the-floor stuff, and I said, “I’ll probably break, I’m too unco for that”, she replied, “All good dancers are unco”. I thought so yeah, I’m unco and not a good dancer, but she continued, “It’s finding how your body moves that makes your dancing unique and that’s why all good dancers are unco, they move like themselves”. So I thought maybe it’s time to write about Adelaide.
I’m not intentionally in a non-blogging mood, just busy with the impedimenta of not just moving to a new city but doing things that have to be done when this new place will be a home for a while – find jobs, find a home … find internet. And of course this induces a tiredness wherein blogging pauses in favour of staring at a wall.
A week at Leigh Warren, remembering how to dance, and how far away the technique of this city is from Melbourne – that’s a post in itself, and one quite worth writing … sometime, and the last couple of weeks with Adam Synnott, Lisa, Alison, Kynan and who else? for Adam’s project In the bones of children that is having a showing tomorrow. And then also at ACArts, where the ballet is hard. It’s strange to do combinations and even steps that after all this time are new to me. Sometimes I wonder what I was trained in, or how much attention I paid.
I was thinking – oh this is embarrassing – back in Zürich in fact, when I had Shonach for ballet, and the amazing information she had, that I should be writing this down, you know, like a document of theory of movement. So of course I didn’t. Janet knows Shonach, so maybe it is appropriate that while she was talking of spirals in a manner that jolted me into thinking of her Zürich classes, I should begin to write.
The little finger connects to the heart, in a literal sense along a nerve. I really should study anatomy, no? So the relationship of the little finger, and thus of the positions and movement of arms is to your heart. In a Brisé, if it’s not working, it’s probably because you’re not crossing your front leg over far enough, so the underneath leg can’t get to it to beat. After all these years, suddenly a Brisé is easy.
I’m missing home. Zürich … Europe, some idea of a place I can’t really enunciate but is there. This time in Adelaide then is somewhat of a pause, to think about and to do dance. When I was in Melbourne, doing class, and the teacher would be someone I went to college with, and once I had this clear and maybe troubling thought. I’ve grown up with these people, and so to watch all these new graduates hungry to learn and then wonder sometimes whatever is being taught, is it a technique, is it just a way to warm up, is it choreography, what are the principles underlying? Then also to be watched, and so dancing is not always for yourself alone. I learn by watching, and I have become quick in working out who to watch to understand what the movement is, so if I am watched, what am I showing, what is someone learning from me?
Adelaide then I suppose for now is a pause. It’s been a few years since I graduated, and I would like to be dancing in another fifteen years, but unless I have some time now to think about it, to just concentrate on … not the vulgar ‘improving my technique” thing, but really finding out how I move, it’ll just be more of the same. Anyway, so dancing is fun, it keeps me sane, Adelaide is somehow good for me, and it’s nice to be amongst friends.