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Sunday July 10th, 2005:
On Sunday there is no parking out in front of our studio on Market St.
in West Oakland because the faithful are streaming into the big yellow
Baptist church next door. In the studio we can hear the congregation
as it rocks hymns to the glory of God. Though it is distant, it adds
a certain poignancy to rehearsal. We are just back from a two-week run
of shows at the Utah and the Reno Arts Festivals. We are brushing up
and finishing choreography for “Portal” which will premiere
in Montana on the Hardy Creek Bridge over the Missouri river in a week.
More on that in a moment. We put on harness and prepare to dance.
June 23-26, 2005
We performed a run of six shows in Salt Lake on the “new”
public library, an architectural tour de force by Moshe
Safdie. Dancing on the large convex glass wall that faces into the
central courtyard, we had to get used to the unique qualities of the
surface. Dancing on glass was a little like dancing on a mirror. The
sky and the dancers were both reflected in our dance “floor”
which caused the illusion that we were dancing in the sky and that there
were twice as many of us. I developed a strong appreciation for the
Utah Arts Festival's Executive
Director Robyn Nelson, after we shared a local NPR interview and
heard her views on the cultural value of public art making and her thoughts
on performance as ritual. Site work is a kind of modern ritual. We perform
in sites that are considered quotidian. Performance changes the quality
of space, how people see space and what they think of when they look
at the space a year later. The work thrusts dance in front of many unsuspecting
viewers and sometimes affects them. Fourteen to sixteen year-old boys
came up to me after the shows and said “that was totally awesome
dude”, and “You guys are the sh-t! That was phat!”.
One might consider their opinions lacking in subtlety, but I like the
idea our work can reach outward and affect not just the art-educated
and the contemporary dance initiated. You can read the response
of a serious speed skater to our performance in Salt Lake.
There was a memorable moment on the roof of the library before one of
the scheduled six o-clock shows. A dramatic thunderstorm was just heading
off North East out toward the Wasatch mountains. At 5:45 we announced
to the gathering crowd of about three thousand that we had to hold the
show until the wall was dry. As the soft silver grey of the receding
clouds mixed with the darker shades of the jagged Wasatch, the rain
and wind effortlessly accomplished the job normally done by stage hands
in a theater; it cleaned and dried the dance “floor” for
us. The air was still buzzing with the ionic charge of the storm when,
at 6:10, the audience began to clap in unison to let us know they were
waiting. When we began ten minutes later, we appeared on the edge of
the roof and began the performance to the deep drone of Raymond Granlund’s
piece, “Edge”, the distant rumble of thunder and the glittering
silvery light on the Wasatch. It all felt good and right and the audience
was cheering.
July 10th,
2005
In the studio, we take the 8 foot poles we are working with, ascend
ropes into places and review the section we are calling “in the
boats”. It is to take place hanging over the water beneath the
bridge in Montana. This is a group section and requires many small internal
cues to be able to manage the unison.
July 2nd,
2005
The Riverside Building on the bank of the Truckee River provides subsidized
housing for artists. It was famous in the forties and fifties as a place
where women seeking a divorce stayed at a time when getting a divorce
as a woman was a political act. Presented for a second time by the Reno
Arts festival and Sierra
Arts. We had also performed at the building’s opening in 2000.
That was before the renovation of the Truckee River through town. Between
rehearsals some of us scurried off, rented tubes, helmets and life jackets
and went joyfully down the rapids of the water park. In Reno, as in
Salt Lake we performed both repertoire and new work. The Women’s
Trio from ”Crossing”, (2003), “Fado”, a counter-balance
quartet (2004), a semi-improvisational solo by me, and the 2005 “Caprice”,
a group work set to new music by Zachary Carrettin. The new music by
Zach was particularly well received. I think it is the best thing he’s
written.
July 11th,
2005
Back in the studio, the “Portal” rehearsal is going well.
We rehearse what I call the Lewis and Clark duet. It is a free hanging
counterbalance duet. The dancers manipulate a 8 foot pole that suggests
different images; a boat, a shared task, a bow, conflict. The “Women’s
Quartet” is to be performed on the side of a 18” wide I-beam
on the Hardy Bridge and is looking good. Our costumes, by Mario Olonzo,
are complete. They mix the needs of being seen (they are shades of orange
and yellow) with the historical style of the time (they are replete
with fringe across the back and down the arms as well as down the legs.)
In our costumes we look like we have feathers or fur like the members
of the Corps of Discovery did. I learned that the fringe on clothing
of the time (besides looking “fly”) was camouflage for hunting.
Before jumping forward to “Portal”, let me jump back to
the first set of shows of 05’ and our first major bridge show.
May 11th-14th,
2005:
The
Downtown Partnership of Chattanooga, Tennessee has created a multi-purpose
art filled public space in Chattanooga. It is located on the down town
banks of the Tennessee River. There are sculptures and murals, pools
and flowing water, grassy areas, and public meeting spaces. We performed
on the Market St. Bridge for the grand opening of the park, May 14th.
The performances were accompanied by Dan Landrum, Zachary Carrettin
and a band of virtuosic studio musicians. Live projected video was utilized
so that the audience could see the detail of the dances even from its
vantage point along the shore about 400 feet from the bridge. Chattanooga’s
current mayor, Ron Littlefield took the time to swing by one of our
rehearsals to personally welcome us to his fair city. The piece began
on the top of the huge counterweight block at one end of the bridge,
moved to the top center, then down the side and ended under the bridge
over the water. During the day show, hundreds of boats, large and small,
were near the bridge on the river. Over 20 thousand people attended
and saw the piece over two shows. After the final show, the mayor actually
hugged me. But it was an almost private moment in the middle of a grand
scale event that I will remember. At the end of our afternoon show,
I looked down while hanging in my harness, to appreciate the many kayaks
that had assembled below us. To my surprise and amusement I saw a large
golden retriever looking up at me from a yellow boat holding in the
swift current. He looked at me with as much interest as his human, the
kayak paddler , who had maneuvered them into a position that was one
of the best seats in the “house”.
Later,
July 11th, 2005:
At the 1919 Market studio, we are dealing in our own way with images
of the Corps of Discovery. If you were listening in you would hear,
“If I am facing you, and we are in “bat” upside down,
the pole between us, when we spin back in toward each other, can you
put your hand behind your head so I can reach it with my left hand?“.
“Like this?”, “Yes, o.k., there it is. Thanks. That
is much better. I feel like I can dance it now.”
Early in the year when we were experimenting in the studio with choreographic
ideas, Heather Baer, who has been dancing with me since 1991, suggested
the idea of using a pole as a prop between the dancers. Using this simple
prop we created a fundamental image for the piece, a boat. I am watching
the dancers run the section “in the boats” that will happen
in Montana over the water with the dancers suspended under the bridge.
The opening image is six dancers suspended about six feet from each
other, facing the same direction with a pole between each pair. Watching
them run the piece it becomes clear to me that the poles have indeed
becomes boats in the choreography. They finish, rappel down to the ground,
I give notes, they ask questions and we wrap up work on that piece.
The group is feeling good. I am too. I think that the choreography is
really going to work, and look beautiful over the water. “Let’s
rest a bit and then move on to the Women’s Quartet”, I say.
July 14-17,
2005
Helena Montana
The title “Portal” jumped out at me when a Montana Ranger,
unaware of the kind of dances I made, used the word during a presentation.
The presentation was about the geography and culture of some of the
areas along the Missouri river near Helena. She explained that the cliffs
on which pictographs and petroglyphs appear were thought to be portals
to another dimension by the indigenous tribes who created them (probably
Shoshone). As she said it in a calm and scientific tone, I knew that
the image of a portal, a doorway, a bridge, a passage, would guide me
in making this piece. Thomas Jefferson was looking for a portal, the
Northwest Passage, when he sent Lewis and Clark on their mission. And
while the ability to reach the Pacific Ocean by waterway for the purpose
of trade was an important goal of the mission, there were others, like
Jefferson’s great interest in botany, and zoology and, I would
venture the more mythic idea of a “way through” to a place
of abundance or at least the unknown. At the time it was a bit like
going to the moon. As an adventurer and athlete I also admire the tenacity
and tremendous determination of the Corps of Discovery. I often imagine
how fit Meriwether was, he often walked far further than the boats could
go in a day. He would sometimes walk 25 miles in half a day!
Our presenter, Ed Noonan of Helena’s Myrna Loy Center, www.myrnaloycenter.com
and I were captivated by the image that day in his office and decided
to name the project “Portal”. In making this piece, the
image of a portal suggests not only a “way through” to a
mythic unknown, but also to a future where the plurality of all peoples
and the land itself is truly respected. The subsequent history of forced
relocation and the killing of many indigenous people, the repression
of indigenous culture etc., though not caused by Lewis and Clark, is
central to a balanced picture of the story. It is incumbent on us as
the “United” States, to use the bicentennial of this epic
journey as an opportunity for education and conversation about this
history. According to a Blackfoot Indian I spoke with in Montana, the
land itself was just about the only thing he could support as a shared
value between the white people of the time and his ancestors. The Blackfoot
were one of only a very few tribes that wanted nothing to do with the
Corps of Discovery. He stood up at a symposium panel we were both part
of, and said he thought that there was no reason to celebrate Lewis
and Clark. This was a dissenting opinion at the event. I don’t
blame him for being angry and clear about it. Perhaps “celebrate”
is not he right word. Maybe commemorate is better. I do think there
are certainly a lot of reasons to talk about it. I also believe that
to make art that focuses on the land and on community is perhaps one
of the more effective ways to mark this bicentennial.
The area
along the Missouri that was chosen as the site for “Portal”,
is a threshold. The Hardy Creek Bridge, which we chose (after dismissing
the possibility of the “Gates of the Mountains” due to poor
rock quality and audience management issues,) is about an hour North
of Helena. Ecologically and geologically the area is liminal; a threshold
between the plains and the mountains. This area also marked the beginning
of the most difficult part of the Corps’ journey, the crossing
of the Bitteroot Mountains. July 16th, 1805 Lewis writes about ascending
a rock bluff with his dog Seaman near where the river enters the mountains.
Looking back across the plains that they are leaving, and forward toward
the mountains, he notes the significance of the site. The Hardy Creek
Bridge is about 1⁄2 a mile South of this bluff, now called "Tower
Rock". He writes of black granite cliffs lining the river with dwarf
pine and cedar clinging to them. Lewis notes that there is an “Indian
road” along the bank of the river as it entered the mountains.
This is very important to him at the time. He was getting very worried
that he would not be able to secure horses from the Shoshone with which
to cross the Bitteroots, (let alone know how to get through the imposing
massifs.) The Corps, finally runs into a band of Shoshone. Sacagawea,
an aqaiduka/salmon-eater Shoshone herself (who was captured years earlier
by the Hidatsa of North Dakota) is returning to her people and her land
for the first time since her abduction years before. During the meeting,
she realizes that the Chief of the band of Shoshone is none other than
her brother, Cameahwait. Cameahwait gives enormous support and many
horses to the group without which they would not likely have been able
to succeed in the difficult task of getting through the mountains.
The Piece “Portal”, a site-specific dance set on the Hardy
Bridge over the Missouri river took place July 17th 2005, exactly two
hundred years after the Corps passed that point on the Missouri. The
music for the piece, was arranged and written by Phillip Aaberg with
Barbara Higby and Jamie Fox ( a Metis fiddler) performing with him.
Over the course of the day about 1,300 people made their way to this
remote spot to view the performances. The choreography used the top,
girders, side and area below the bridge. The opening dance is anchored
choreographically by variations on physical gestures the Corps would
likely have performed, such as the action of poling a boat. In this
section the dancers negotiated the steal beams and open air space of
the top side of the bridge. The second section, the Women’s Quartet
is a dancy piece meant to conjure the kind of letting loose that occurred
when Pierre Cruzatte (a Metis) pulled out his fiddle around the fire.
Next Melecio and Mark performed a duet hanging in counter balance below
the bridge over the water. This duet abstractly expressed the relationship
between the two Captains and introduced the pole as a practical prop
that at times suggested power, at others a boat, at others, the responsibility
that the two shared. My solo, which began with slow gestures on top
of the bridge, traversed down the bridge to just above the water, where,
swinging back and forth, I ran my fingers through the water of the Missouri
as I danced. My solo evoked images of birds, a warrior, an adventurer
and the water itself. In the finale the whole company was suspended
below the bridge. The first section began with six dancers using three
poles so that through their dance the poles became boats. In the final
section we released long banners made by our costume designer, Mario
Olonzo, in the colors of the sunset. In the last moment of the piece
the dancers became perfectly still and focus of the dance became the
passage of the water below us, the light, the music and the effects
of the light breeze on the long fabric banners.
As it turned out, about a dozen members of the National Dance Project
Committee, who were in town for a semi-annual meeting, came to our final
show. We could not have asked for a better “showcase” than
to be dancing in nature for them. I had a great moment when, as I was
warming up for the final show, I heard someone say, “Where is
Amelia?” and looked up to see Kennedy Center’s Alicia Adams
(who presented us in 2003) walking up to give me a hug as she crossed
the bridge for a better view. Something is right with the performing
arts when a heavy hitting urban presenter makes it out to the back woods
to see dance. Ed Noonan recited the following poem that he wrote that
day.
To Project Bandaloop, July 17, 2005
The river,
for all its mystery, murmur, movement,
allows us to make ripples.
We are proud of being ripplemakers,
rivercrossers,
but the river's spray in our face
reminds us
it is the river
Closing
rehearsal, July 11th, 2005:
Back in the studio, the dancers are drinking water, snacking and chatting
as we wrap up rehearsal. They take off their harnesses, put the hardware
away in its cubby and prepare to return to the world bounded by a more
traditional relationship to gravity.
August 2nd, 2005
Along side Amanda Moran, our company manager and Thomas Cavanagh, Director
of Operations, I am working on all the things that keep us going. It
is fun to work on the logistics of next summer’s two-week run
in the Dolomites as part of the Suoni delle Dolomite festival. Lots
of details are keeping us busy as we plan for a two-week home season
at Theater Artaud in San Francisco this December. There is a call from
a presenter in Rome for a new year’s performance, and another;
can we help open a new hotel in the Grand Cayman Islands the first week
in January? I start to fantasize about “having to” rush
back from Italy to make it to the Cayman Islands. As next year fills
in with theater performances (Bostonian’s stay tuned) University
events, mountain and river performances, and summer festivals, I do
what I can to feed my imagination and stay healthy and fit. I am reading
“No God but God, The Origins, Evolution and Future of Islam”
by Reza Aslan as well as Barbara Kingsolver’s “Prodigal
Summer”. My hydrologist friend is needling me to move forward
on the idea of dancing on dams slated for removal. “Both of them?”
asked another friend when I described the idea.
I am also taking (dance) class, practicing yoga, climbing a little and
surfing whenever I can. Just this morning I was in the ocean and learned
another good lesson. Today’s lesson was a reminder that you sometimes
just have to try something to see if will work. Though I know that innovation
often happens by “mistake,” chance or serendipity, I sometimes
forget and over-determine success. As a wave wooshed me forward and
I got to my feet, I lost my balance trying to turn. In recovering, I
tried something new, an innovation, which in turn lead to a delicious
moment of ease and balance that felt completely new.
Wishing
everyone a great summer,
Sincerely,
Amelia Rudolph
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