Motley Hue

(NYC, 13--15 March 2015)

A new dance is being born. A new dance would typically coalesce new sounds, rhythms, moves, and hitherto rejected social practices. By contrast, fusion fails to advocate a set of moves, or at any rate refuses to endorse a standardised vocabulary. Instead, fusion promotes an overarching principle, an imperative: Anything---blues, latin, lindy hop, waltz, tango, contact improvisation, zouk, ballet---goes. Any narrative that feels good and is enhanced by music goes. Any music goes, too.

The inclusiveness of the fusion imperative need not be self-defeating. Most successful scientific endeavours and art forms are defined similarly: "X is whatever those who do X do." Economics and jazz are like that, without compromising their identities.

The fusion imperative emphasises musicality (well served by slower tempos), improvisation (which may call on any dance style), close connexion (e.g., in close embrace, to a clear beat), and subtle communication (through weight changes, weight sharing, and role reversals). The emphasis on communication and the espousal of the ambiguity of music and movement beget (occasionally Punchdrunk-level) art, which one can enjoy both within and without.

The comprehensiveness of dance styles allows for a variety of stories to be told. So one can be sincere with every partner, to every song, for half a song, for however many songs it takes to tell the story. The music coordinates, but does not subordinate.

Intensity is eternity.

Sleep No More

(The McKittrick Hotel, 11 March 2015)

There is no reason not to approach closely, not to pry, not to explore. Yet one keeps the distance from the actors. And so in one's non-choreographed life, too, one may, for no extrinsic reason, disengage and observe from afar. Punchdrunk step towards life, thereby daring life to step up.

"Allegro Brillante & Carousel (A Dance) & The Man in Black & Chroma" by the National Ballet of Canada

(Four Seasons Centre, 6 March 2015)

Allegro Brillante:

There is no accidental art. (There is accidental beauty. It uncovers the truths that no single artist has been aware of.) Art is impossible without substance (an ideal) underlying the form. Aesthetics alone can conjure no meaning, nor can it galvanise the artist.

Elena Lobsanova shines, but she cannot do Balanchine's work for him. 

The Man in Black:

What unites all is the ultimate rejection. All die. So as long as one chooses to live, one chooses to work on a project that is bigger than oneself. It is the same project for all.

It is crucial to maintain the rhythm, which helps coordinate with others and helps contribute. (If one cannot keep moving to the rhythm, one should keep moving nevertheless.)

Articulated, conscious reasoning is recent. Societies whose members are best at articulating, codifying, and passing on their experiences are most viable. Still much reasoning remains unarticulated (e.g., the fear of darkness, attraction to faces and voices), and the awareness of what used to be articulated fades once the technique has been mastered (e.g., playing the piano, formulating mathematical conjectures). So speaking to the conscious self accesses but the tip of the self. Art accesses the remainder.

Man gives credit to those few whose influence he is aware of. Yet a myriad of unacknowledged others play with and form his subconscious self. One should choose these others judiciously and spontaneously. One should also attempt to become a benevolent playmate to others, for the sake of the common project.

Chroma:

A more careful thinker also develops better intuition and is a deeper visceral thinker. He creates better art.

Beaty is transience. (There is no need to announce the permanent.) It will never happen again. The same people will never assemble in the same place. One must get it right. If one concentrates on the transient, it will remain with one forever.

One does not have to be ideal. It suffices to look in the direction of the ideal. The little one can do is to aspire to be ideal in some small skill, for others to occasionally direct their gazes.

Tanya Howard is ideal. America is a collection of ideals. An ideal is almost always extreme, excessive, and painful to live. One is happier in balance and when insured, but one owes the exactitude of this balance to those who suffer the ideal.

Wayne McGregor's Chroma is the future. Fortunately, the future is now.