The In Between

Have you ever been told you need to work on your transitions? Whether that be in something you’ve written, choreographed, or something else altogether?

When I was a kid, sometime between 1st and 6th grade when I was homeschooled, I remember learning about transition words. And how they are important for writing and all communication. I remember being fed a cheat sheet list of “transition words”. And told that these were the words I should use to keep my essays and conversations flowing.

So I consumed them - memorized them and eventually adopted those words into my vocabulary. I’d cram them into my sentences. hoping that my ideas would come across more clearly... Sometimes, this worked. Other times, this did not. The transitions just felt forced.

What’s ironic about “transitions” is that the most successful are those that go unnoticed. Those that just “work”. Keep things glued together. Push you from Point A to Point B in a way that makes sense and keeps you inside what is being said. Yet, sometimes, we don’t have the capacity to add in our transitions until after we’ve put something together. We can only connect the dots once all the dots are laid out there in front of us.

Last night, in my dance composition class, the concept of transitions came back to haunt me. I shared some choreography that I’ve been working on. And once again... like the previous week... a discussion on my transitions (or lack there of) ensued after I shared my work. What was it that spurred one moment of my piece into the next?

By Fernando Paz

In my choreography, I’m working with what I would consider contrasting elements. A lot of stillness And then, rapid movement. Composure. And free play. But what is the connective tissue in between the stillness and movement that binds the two into something cohesive?

There IS an in between. There’s always an in between. I have this tendency to skip ahead... jump from one place to the next. Skirt over the important, in between details. But the space for these details is always there, and is especially transparent when I’m not filling it in or giving it the attention it deserves.

This weekend, as I revisit my choreography with the feedback I was offered, I hope to tackle the in between state some more. I have a ton of material to work with...my A’s and B’s and C’s and D’s. Now, it’s just time for me to take it all in. Connect the dots. Cut things out or reorder things as needed. And really take a look at what it is that I’m creating and reflect on what it is that I want to create.

On Composure And Breaking Free

Question for you: Do you have a hard time sitting still?
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So surprise plot twist - the series of 6 dance composition classes I was taking ended, but then spawned into another series of 6 classes. This time, the group is tiny. (Perhaps because the registration was all botched up online - I’m still unable to register - and this week will be the second class.) So I’m still not on the official enrollment list. But this hasn’t and won’t stop me from coming. I’m doing this for me.

Anyway, last week, we were given a home work assignment... to find 20 minutes for ourselves... unplugged from any electronic device, and observe our surroundings and the “motion” in the world around us. From this, we were to find some something to grab onto... and run with it. Let that something inspire us to pull together a small composition that we will share with each other next class. For a bit, I struggled with this assignment and finding something I felt worthy to work off of. And then, this past weekend, while sitting at my local barbershop waiting for my turn to get my haircut, I caught myself observing an antsy, young boy waiting for his own turn... swinging his arm idly back and forth. I sorta wanted to do the same at the moment.... or at least something along those lines. I wanted to (and always want to) keep moving. I abhor sitting still.

This brought me to think to ideas of composing... “composure” as a word in itself, a discussion we brought up in our first dance composition session. What does it mean to compose/to be composed? For me, there is this idea of structure and organization. Of something being uniform and easily repeatable. There’s less freedom there... than something like improvisation. I imagine a series of soldiers lined up side by side against a wall or marching in a parade or on a battlefield. In sync. Together. Individual differences washed away....

And then, I think back to the antsy, young boy fidgeting while waiting for his haircut... and my own continuous potential energy.... And how I and most adults feel the need to contain it. Perhaps, it’s because the world needs structure and order to survive? But is that really human? Are our spirits meant to be tamed? Are we meant to stay composed? My heart tells me no.

Linking back to our homework assignment.... I guess the boy did, in fact, inspire me. The movement was so simple... yet sparked such a complex discussion in my head. As a choreographer... a writer...an artist.... I want to play with this idea more. The difference between free play and composure... and how these vastly different elements can be combined into something cohesive and thoughtful....

If I’m to take a larger lesson from this into my own life.... I want to hold onto my own youthful energy and desire to do things... and continually find spaces in my life where I can bring this into action. Whether that be on this blog... or in choreography. This energy drives me. Makes me happy. Gives me purpose. And reminds me I’m alive. It’s my job to feed into it and keep it going.

Watch Me Dance

Photo by Sabrina Polanco-Ferreyra

It’s just that initial decision that is hard. Then, everything else falls in line.

I think about those initial moments. When I decided to register for this dance composition class... all the anxiety and hesitation I felt... was I making a good choice? And then... I jumped.

And now here I am. Six weeks later. On a stage. Presenting a solo to lots of strangers. It’s both beautiful and scary how life works. How sometimes all it takes is getting past a few uncomfortable, vulnerable - precious - seconds... and then... everything comes together as it should.

With my teching down and two performances later this evening, how do I feel today? I feel physically exhausted. There’s still a long day ahead. But I also feel great. I feel alive. I feel at peace with the universe and everything around me.

Against all odds, here you see me back on a stage. It’s been more than a year and a half, but here I am. Conquering life. One step at a time. On top of the world. My world.

Sometimes, I love dance. I love life. Other times, things can be so hard. But I have the power to make things better. I have the power to be in control.

Watch me now as I jump off this cliff and roll into oblivion.

Watch me dance.

You can’t stop me.

I won’t let you.

My Journey:

Part 1 - Am I A Still A Dancer? 
At the core of my being, I know that dance is inseparable from me. That dance- MY dance - past, present and future - is a manifestation of MY life force. And, that as long as I live, the dance in me is also alive. 

Part 2 - Waiting For Permission
Give me permission to be, and I soar. But without this nod of approval, I hide away.

Part 3 - Tonight I'm Going To Take A Dance Class (part 1)

And so... here I enter the classroom again. Alone. With nothing but a familiar face at the head. It’s exciting. Nerve-wracking. Invigorating.

Part 4 - Tonight I'm Going To Take A Dance Class (part 2)
It’s also so amazing to “play” in a safe environment where play is very much appreciated. We are all so curious as to what each of us have to offer. We investigate and reflect together... each of us, perhaps, on a pathway to reach higher truth about ourselves.... life... art. 

Part 5 - Watch Me Dance
Against all odds, here you see me back on a stage. It’s been more than a year and a half, but here I am.

Tonight, I'm Going To Take A Dance Class (Part 2)

Photo by Sabrina Polanco-Ferreyra

Let me preface this by asking you this question: what are things that you want to do, but you aren’t doing because you fear being uncomfortable or even more afraid?

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Tonight will be the fifth class of the six part series of composition dance classes I began in December. It’s bittersweet as the journey wraps up... but very much inevitable. All things come to end in time... it’s up for us to keep rolling forward and pursue new things...

With that said, how has this experience gone this far and where would I like to take my life journey next?

It’s gone well! Underwhelming? Well, certainly not overwhelming. Maybe somewhere in between. I can definitely say I want more of what’s being offered. I’m excited to dig in deeper. What’s especially interesting about this experience is that it’s very much reminiscent of Jessica Nicoll’s composition class I took in my early days at Hunter College. Amazingly, it does not feel at all redundant because I’m very much in a different place at this moment than I was 4-5 years ago. I’m a more experienced artist/person. More attuned to who it is that I am and where I want to go next. It’s refreshing to revisit my past in this new light and see where it takes me.

I think what I’m drawn to appreciate most out of this experience is the platform it offers me to share pieces of myself with others. If I had a choice and I felt it was socially acceptable to do so, at any given moment, you’d catch me dancing in the streets. But, alas, I don’t feel quite empowered enough to do that just yet. So I appreciate the unique environment this class offers me to explore... present... experiment... share and reflect.

I’m on this strange personal journey of self-discovery. So I enjoy feeding off of the responses my classmates offer. It validates what it is that I’m doing... and my existence in of itself. It’s also so amazing to “play” in a safe environment where play is very much appreciated. We are all so curious as to what each of us have to offer. We investigate and reflect together... each of us, perhaps, on a pathway to reach higher truth about ourselves.... life... art. At least that’s how I see it. The creative process for me is so deeply intertwined with my identity. So I enjoy discovering it, fleshing it out, and fielding the responses of my classmates.

Photo by Sabrina Polanco-Ferreyra

My class features a wide range of ages from different walks of life. Yet, despite these discernible differences, we are bonded together in our appreciation -  dare I say - love of dance and the creative process. This is special. This is hard to come by. This is where it get all my value after a long day sitting in a cubicle and staring at a screen at work.

On Saturday, January 26th there is a public performance opportunity where a few members of my class will be presenting some work at 92nd Street Y. I’m excited to challenge myself to share something in this venue... expand my self-sharing to a broader audience. It will be a solo. Something currently in the works. Pieces of which are still very much undefined. But I’m so very enthusiastic to share it. And perhaps receive even more feedback from the audience who will be present and have this new information further validate and inspire my creative process. We shall see where this all takes me!

Looking beyond this performance date... I think I need to get back in the studio more. Continue on this trajectory. Perhaps I’ll take Jessica Nicoll’s Thursday evening modern technique class that many of my current classmates are taking... It’s a technique class which I know fulfills a very different purpose. But if that’s what it takes to keep me in the studio... if that’s what I need to keep my body moving and alive, I will do it.  Onward!

Tonight I'm Going To Take A Dance Class (Part 1)

Tonight, I'm Going To Take A Dance Class

Tonight, I’m going to take a dance class. How long has it been since I’ve last been in a studio? I know I fool around at home on my weekends and occasionally film myself, but being in a formal studio setting - it’s been a while. So what are my thoughts before stepping in later tonight?

Well, I hope it goes well, first and foremost. Well? What does that mean? Well, there’s this creeping anxiety that it will be underwhelming and disappointing rather than freeing as I yearn for. What is drawing me in? It’s a series of 6 dance composition classes to be held on the Thursdays’s taught by Jessica Nicoll, a professor from Hunter I continue to admire. A writer. An educator. A dancer. A composer. And so... here I enter the classroom again. Alone. With nothing but a familiar face at the head. It’s exciting. Nerve-wracking. Invigorating.

Time to be done with the incessant guilt that I am not taking class enough. Time to jump into a class. This class appears to be especially accessible to me, as it is not being marketed specifically for trained dancers, but welcoming people from all sorts of walks to enter the studio, discover, and compose. I look forward to observing others. Witnessing. Reflecting. And, of course, discovering myself further.

I think back on my first, awkward experience with dance improvisation, not at Hunter, but at Stony Brook University, taught by Amy Yopp Sullivan, a wise, grandmotherly angel in her own right. Her emphasis on each student articulating their voice and owning their movement sticks with me till this day. I recall when she’d run though a check in with each of her students, working her way around a circle. And how, on my turn, my voice was meager, quiet, and overall difficult to hear. How my anxiety would hinder my articulation. And how she would kindly demand of me to repeat my words louder and clearer. To articulate and own them. Love them. And be me. In those moments, I learned of the valuable connection between dance performance and knowledge of self-worth. How In order to peak, I needed to break out of myself, let myself live, rather than shut myself out. Getting there was a process, but I made it there gradually over the years following.

So, tonight, I once again enter a studio. A public -safe?- space of self-revealing to the world, or at least a small part of the world. How will I negotiate this? How will I stand, or shall I say, dance, in this new foreign environment? How will I give myself permission to soar amongst strangers? Time will tell. I will reflect again after tonight. For now, I simply say, YOLO.