Journal

Deborah Hay Dance Company: I'm still thinking... <font size=2>by Mark Haim</font> Apr 20, 2007

by Tania Kupczak

I was excited to sit in the second row, close to the action.
I wanted to feel myself "in" it.
The curtain opens really, REALLY slowly.
I slowly enter the space opening to me.
More and more space/ less and less chatter.
I'm there.
I really am.
Or I thought I was there....

I'm watching these three women move.
Articulately, thoughtfully, rhythmically, unpredictably.

I pull away.
I start wondering about things.
I feel my brain working hard.
Too hard.
I struggle to find my way in again.
It's as if the curtain has shut again between me and the stage dancers.
I feel myself separated from them
when I want to feel I AM them.
I can see their choices.
I appreciate their masterful use of timing, phrasing, kinetic "narrative."
I love the presence of their presences.

Intermission.
I think, "I wish i were doing it instead of watching it."
And I think," I wish I could feel like I was doing it while sitting in that seat...
but I can't."

But there is too much "I" in all of this-- In this blog and in my experience as an audience member.
I want to forget my "I" and feel part of something else.
I am separated from me, actually.
My thoughts are too loud,
My expectations still too specific.
The chatter that died down in the audience didn't die down in me.
...my own failing.

In the second half, things felt more fulfilled.
The three take what they have done in the first half and run with it.
Gradually, through their contextualizations, their directorial choices, I feel my world, (or at least a world i choose to feel):
environmental degradation,
the tragedy and mindlessness of war,
the weight of white female stereotyping.

White is a good word here.
Judson was very white.
This evening feels very white.
A privileged white, an entitled white, a limited white.
A white that deludes itself into thinking it contains all the other colors of the spectrum.
But it does not.

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