In week 4 of the CID project, our last guest workshop leader Kimberley Harvey joined the company to share practices from her work ‘Inky Matter’…
Kimberley introduced her work ‘Inky Matter’ as a performance installation using text, ink and the process of letter writing as inspiration. Throughout the workshop we explored tactile and sensory approaches to movement with freedom of interpretation and adaptation at the core of the investigation.
The workshop opened with an improvisation which evolved from internal to external awareness – connecting to internal sense of self and articulation of the body by imagining a drop of ink traveling around the body or inside the body gave great attention to the way we initiate movement from an internal place. Awareness of the space and surfaces of the environment around us challenged our placement of weight. Considering the way our body imprinted on the environment or how it might leave a mark led us to consider how our movement created invisible sculptures as it moved, as well as promoting a sense of openness as we imagined leaving full body imprints around us as we moved.
Our primary exploration came from working sculpturally with bodies and paper, playing lead and follow, pass the parcel, getting tied up and unravelling again as we passed a large length of paper around our groups. The paper acted as a vehicle for weaving, ducking, throwing, winding, twisting, moulding, wrapping around each other as the groups invented creative ways to move together. Connecting us together and at once separating us – anarchy descended as group members split away, playing games and transforming the dance space into a paper playground.
I was struck in this weeks exploration by the natural and childlike playfulness that the group experienced when making. The simple intermediary of a prop with a very specific artistic and sculptural approach, opened up a wide playground of possibility for the dancers, much like playing with the chairs in Bim Malcomson’s workshop on week 2. This felt like the most free the dancers have been, despite the prop itself meaning that there was more to think about in the execution of movement. We saw jumping, crawling, diving, running away, snatching and rolling as the dancers played and laughed, a lot! I was reminded of the notion of the exuberant animal, introduced to me by collaborative partner Ben Beare of National Hospital of Neurology and Neurosurgery:
exuberance and its close partners passion and joy are consistently underrated in mainstream studies of physical fitness, health and performance…
We now know more about lactic acid concentrations than we do about joy…more about body mass index than we do about passion…more about treadmill performance than we do about enthusiasm…then we wonder why people find exercise so dull and unattractiveFrank Forencich https://www.exuberantanimal.com/blog
Frank Forencich suggests that exuberance comes from play and that as adults we need to tap into childlike exuberance in order to find a healthy and happy existence. Yet play and free, abandon in movement are underrated and often unattainable in older adulthood. Not only did Kimberley’s workshop encourage a truly free and flowing exuberance to unfold, there was also a childlike quality to our free mark making as we were encouraged to respond to what we were seeing by making inky marks on paper in front of us. When in adulthood do we get this chance to make our mark freely and without judgement on paper?
The session summed up beautifully in this quote from a company dancer:
Can I just say how moving (literally and emotionally) Wednesday’s session was. The exercise with paper seemed to allow us to combine together as a group and yet allow us to be individual at the same time. What a metaphor for society as a whole.Dancer, CID Project
Three (of a thousand and one) reasons to be happy dancing in Poplar
by Leslie Mapp
1. There’s no need to apologise…
For me, life with Parkinson’s has led to a lot of apologising: I’m sorry, I’m slow … I say, as I hold people up in queues or dodder into their way in the street. I’m sorry, I lose my words… I say, as the link between my thoughts and speech fractures, leaving me unable to sustain conversation; maybe to speak unexpected words at random. I’m sorry… I say, as I stare blankly at a friend trying to evoke an emotional response. In Poplar though, on the CID dance project, there’s no need to apologise. It’s a peer group, our condition is background. With Parkinson’s pushed to one side, we can rise above the condition, counter the despair.
2. It’s the real thing…
As someone remarked, in Poplar we’re dancers first and people with Parkinson’s second. Not everyone here has the condition, but if you are here, you’re either a professional in dance or a ‘professional’ in Parkinson’s – patient or carer. It means the classes are led to high standards, accompanied by genius live music, and we can model ourselves on the best techniques as we learn our personal means of expression. Of course, there are sympathetic allowances made for our disabilities, but not as many as you might think. We are still expected to participate and to express as much as we are able. It’s hard work but it’s therapeutic – it’s no accident that dancers are so physically fit, so graceful and controlled. I may be a pale shadow of them, but at least I’m able to be a shadow. I walk better afterwards, and feel uplifted. It’s a practical art.
3. It adds dimensions…
Dance has made me appreciate three dimensions. Before this, I lived essentially in two – I would write, I might paint, I took photographs, I watched movies. With dance, I’ve discovered a front and a back as well as a side to side. And this dimension has a new language. I don’t just walk across the floor, I ‘travel’. And it’s not just a floor, it’s a ‘kinaesthetic space’ in which to tell stories. Like any art though, it’s essentially an expression of something beyond the reach of words, which makes it especially important as abilities with words decline. Poplar has also added a community – mixed in age, origin and gender. I’m meeting people I would never otherwise have encountered, and getting suprisingly close to them. Who knew how different other people’s breakfasts could be; or that we could invent a dance about making them! As a characteristically solitary person with an isolating disease, this makes an invaluable contribution to my well-being. In Poplar, see me smile.
Images by Sara Hibbert
This workshop insight contributed by Sally Varrall, supporting artist on the CID project, offers thoughts on visibility within the frame of seeing & being seen, in the week 3 CID workshop led by Casson & Friends.
In the exploratory phase of the workshop we were invited to work with a partner, with one dancer beginning the spatial journey of an imaginary thread, making clear the end of the journey enabling their partner to continue. This also became a group improvisation with three dancers initiating a thread weaving a journey, finding stillness, until the thread was temporarily accompanied by a different dancer. The exploratory nature of these improvisations brought heightened awareness to the moment of connection (for me) with another dancer.
In the performative phase of the workshop we were invited to share the dances we made (our morning breakfasts) in a fairly formal format (in front of black drapes), set up to allow for the dance to be filmed and the dancers to be visibly captured on camera – capturing our dancing identities.
Discussing the essence of identity, Fraleigh (in Carter, 1998) refers to the process of looking at dance reveals its identity – its individuality. This has resonance with the focus of this project on Collective Identity, and more specifically suggests the dance we made provides a consensual, collective experience within which the dancers show their distinctive individuality.
Week 3 of the CID project saw us play together with the concepts of narrative and storytelling led by Casson and Friends artist Chloe Mead. We developed close personal duet material which we shared together for the rest of the group.
We connect through the body, senses and eyes. I learn about you. You learn about me. We play together. Moving, connecting, smiling. The more we play, the more we understand each other. We begin to take risks, pushing the other with a sense of lightness and intrigue. Respect. We begin to bend the rules, finding our own language and code. Rewriting the rules to our very own game. We share an understanding. An experience. A connection.
Play provides space for rich explorations and meaningful connections. I encountered a genuine sense of play throughout the session this week. It allowed me to connect with the other dancers with lightness and curiosity as we played together. Providing a safe space for personalities and identities to emerge within the room.
by Ella Fleetwood
Ella Fleetwood (Dance Collaborator for the CID Project) reflects on play as practice in the third week of the CID project
One of the values underpinning the CID project is bringing visibility to people with Parkinson’s and their contribution to the dance community. This has been a featured topic in our discussion groups at the end of each weekly workshop.
I found it difficult to talk about the project to others afterwards, difficult to convey how special it felt. So (as we discussed in the feedback session) visibility feels especially important. Many of us know what it feels like to be embarrassed by the effects of Parkinson’s and the feeling that we have to hide the symptoms. Here is our chance to do the opposite: to stand up and be seen, maybe even shout about it. The fact that we are working towards a final sharing event which perhaps includes some kind of performance means that, if the telling is difficult, we can show what we mean.Kate Swindlehurst, dancer
The visual arts element of the project was designed to bring visibility to the work and to reframe the dancing body through the artists lens. In week 3 of the CID project we experimented with framing portraits of the dancers during the workshop led by Chloe Mead. The workshop focused on individual storytelling and narrative, and the resulting images bring a personal insight to the dance experience, connections we have made, and the willingness shown by our wonderful dance collaborators, to share and be seen.
Images by Sara Hibbert
Week 2 of the CID project saw us lead physically in exploratory tasks by Bim Malcomson to find a sense of ballet’s use of points in space, how the carriage of the arms can help us reach and trace to the edge of our kinesphere, how we can use opposing directional forces to find moments of expansion and how we can shape the geography and landscape of the space by physically relocating from one place to another. Using this acquired information, we worked on a series of tasks in pairs to create duets which we then performed to each other.
By Effie McGuire Ward
Effie McGuire Ward (Dance Collaborator for the CID Project) reflects on the second session of the project
Following our physical practice, we came together for a group discussion and reflection. One of the topics which particularly resonated with me from this discussion was that the workshop had been a safe space to embrace the condition of Parkinson’s for artistic investigation as opposed to having to fight or hide the indicators of Parkinson’s in the ‘real world’.
For me, dance very much instigates this interplay with our relationship to ourselves and provides situations where we become more aware of when we are choosing to embrace (or perhaps accept) our individual traits and choices, as well as highlighting some things we might like to change and so may choose to fight against in an effort to grow our creative offering.
What was striking in watching other people’s duets, was how interesting and individual they were whilst all coming from the same framework. There was certainly a connecting and shared collective thread, but so much space for individual contribution through this possibility that each person in the room could embrace their own self. This brought about several unexpected moments which I’d never have come up with and which I kind of wish I had!
As a collective, I feel there is (perhaps subconsciously) an ambition in the room to find, develop and inhabit our own individual movement language where we can be comfortable but also offer a creative voice as artists with or without Parkinson’s. Having a space to embrace our own individual offer therefore is paramount to:
– noticing and accepting our habits
– embracing and developing them to become tendencies in how we might choose to move
– allowing our tendencies to grow to become our own distinct style or flavour which we can contribute to the collective
*This outlook on habits, tendencies and style was a provocation offered to me a few years ago from Kerry Nicholls as part of her Performance Mentoring Programme, the discussion of embracing or fighting in this week’s CID project brought it to the forefront of my thinking again
Kate Swindlehurst is a dancer with the CID project as well as a writer and author of ‘The Tango Effect’… here she reflects on her experience of the project so far.
by Kate Swindlehurst
At the end of last week’s introduction, I felt excited to be part of this project from the word go and energised by the afternoon’s activities – so much so, that I fell over not far from the Union building on my way home – fortunately before I reached the Limehouse Cut – I wouldn’t fancy toppling into the water! I found the afternoon quite challenging: I’m not always comfortable either in a group or in free improvisation – but challenging is good!
Week 2 of the project led by Bim Malcomson was challenging in a different way. I relished the opportunity to stretch and twist to the extent of my kinaesphere, a brilliant counter to my tendency to stoop, fold inwards and hide away. I also loved the ballet structure and principles underpinning everything: I was subjected to ballet when I was 5 or so (why wasn’t I allowed those wonderful red shoes that came with tap?!), and have dipped in and out of watching ballet and contemporary dance as an adult.
I found it difficult to talk about the project to others afterwards, difficult to convey how special it felt. So (as we discussed in the feedback session) visibility feels especially important. Many of us know what it feels like to be embarrassed by the effects of Parkinson’s and the feeling that we have to hide the symptoms. Here is our chance to do the opposite: to stand up and be seen, maybe even shout about it. The fact that we are working towards a final sharing event which perhaps includes some kind of performance means that, if the telling is difficult, we can show what we mean.