How did it start
The fascination with expectations surfaced when working co-creatively in
the studio with performer Suzana Gomes (a dancer/aerialist like myself) who
I asked to engage with a different/new take on an aerial apparatus. With a
different/new take on an aerial apparatus I mean that the materials
I used were the familiar element, the way I knotted it and the hight
I rigged it at were different.
As a consequence I asked of Suzana to not only use the skills
she mastered as a dancer/aerialist, but more importantly to step out of
that comfort-zone, to think outside the box, while discovering the
possibilities of this re-innovated aerial apparatus.
Studio-time started with play:
experiment, try some grips, climbing techniques, tricks, poses...
An oppotunity to let the imagination run free and just do.
After the first encounter with the apparatus (play) a goal was set: skill-
building. Engaging in improvisation tasks to explore the possibilities of
this apparatus and to start collecting movement vocabulary.
The emphasis, during these improvisation sessions, was put on
acting on instinct, follow your impulses and nothing is off limits.
We both alternated in 10 minute sessions with short affirmative feedback
moments. This way we informed each other both visually and verbally.
> Un/Tangle use the aerial knowledge to get in and out of entanglement
> Partnering use the ropes as your improvisation partner
> Game: pass - not pass through the curtain of ropes
This way of exploring was fruitful until it didn't.
The sessions started to evolve into struggles and fights with
the ropes. We hurt ourselves, lost balance, forgot how to use our
strength and became quite frustrated. It seemed as if the mind was
clogged, all openness was gone. It felt like the confidence of our
mastery as a dancer and aerialist was nowhere to be found. In the
feedback moments right after a session we started apologizing to one
another for our fight and for not delivering interesting movement.
And there you have it:
‘apologizing' and 'thinking you're not delivering’
In this stage of our co-creative process it was all about discovery.
Why did we apologize for what we ourselves labelled as failure?
Failure is the fertile soil for learning, and therefor skill-building.
In our reflective talks it became clear that we expect al lot from
ourselves and have the urge to 'deliver’ amazing imput to the creative
process. Those expectations blocked creative freedom.
We could feel it somatically (no balance, pain, out of breath) and
mentally (negative thoughts, not listening to the body or apparatus)
That was the trigger to focus the research on expectations.
How did we proceed
I took a step back to reconfigure the rehearsal, taking
into account this specific element that caught my eye during the previous sessions.
How to address the restless the mind and it’s negative
impact on creative freedom. It brought me to my personal
meditation practice, where this restless mind is
addressed as a Monkey Mind. I’ve learned a technique to
let go of that rambling mind just by identifying it
and acknowledging its presence.
As I am writing this, I remember a conversation I had
with a friend who is an NLP1 coach. She once asked me
to create a supporter to counter that Monkey Mind.
This supporter could have any shape or form I wanted,
as long as the supporter was encouraging and
positive about my own actions. This is something I
will start incorporating in my practice as a tool, at
a later stage, after this master.
So, after reviewing the video material of the studio
sessions and the aftertalks, I came up with two elements
to bring into the rehearsal:
> three tools to offer the performer during co-creative
studio time, dealing with that Monkey Mind:
Private Time - Don't Say Sorry - Reset
> a methodology to nurture curiosity and build
movement vocabulary: RE/WRITE
MONKEY MIND
Because we got tangled in our own thinking during improvisation tasks in the studio, it prevented us from improvising freely.
We could verbalize what our mind was going through, how we wanted to do it as 'good' as possible every time and how we became aware of every move we made. Self-criticizing those movements, even to the smallest detail, going from bad to worse.
There was a need to stop, take a deep breath and spit out the frustration before continuing the task. There was also a moment where Suzana caught herself in the act of performative improvisation, not investigative, generative or creative improvisation. She described this state of being as ‘being aware of everything you do, judge if it fits the task and change if needed to save the situation’. Also, in that state she was looking to herself from the outside. Her mind was creating assumptions of how and what she was doing looked like, decided whether or not that was good enough and judged herself on it, again. A vicious circle that killed creativity and freedom of
discovery.
Three tools I distilled and how that worked out:
Private time
As part of the warm-up I introduced Private Time. A tool to give the performer time alone with the new apparatus. To connect to it, to connect to themselves and to understand what the relationship between them is like at the beginning of the day. Like a check-in.
How does the body feel, how does the apparatus feel, what’s the state of mind. All to benefit the arriving in the now, to let go of private worries, assumptions and expectations.
The maker is in the room, but is not paying attention to the performer, by doing some preparations, warm-up too or simply make some tea.
In the videos below you will find how the performer needs this space to check in withthemselves and the apparatus, before starting the partnership. There was no timer set, butit always lasted around 10 minutes. When we didn’t take time for Private Time, the MonkeyMind was very quick to announce itself and very difficult to divert. Whenever we did takethe time it benefited the creative flow and sense of freedom during improvisation. > video
Don’t Say Sorry
During the time in the apparatus, may it be improvisation or rehearsing scenes, the Monkey Mind would appear. Whenever it did and the performer started to get caught up in her thoughts, it would come out by saying ‘I’m Sorry,… ‘ Making excuses for not delivering, for not being good, for disappointing me. Sentences came out like: I know you expect more, I’m stuck, I’m not strong today, etc.
In order to make and/or keep the studio a creative safe space, there needs to be trust. I asa maker need to provide that space by being verbal about my trust in the performer.Having given the performer agency and ownership by co-creating with this person is atthat moment beside the point. There’s an urge to calm down the mind, take of thepressure one can put on themself, and it worked by saying there is no need for them toapologize. It is a process, improvising is a vulnerable aspect, so Don’t Say Sorry. > video
Reset
The follow-up tool of Don’t Say Sorry is Reset.
Whenever the Monkey Mind is taking over, or when being stuck, we tried various ways to reset body and mind. There are a few things that worked, keeping in mind we always had
three 10 minute sessions, each with a break of 5 minutes, after which we would have a dialogue about the improvisation.
The Reset task, when in the middle of improvising was: stop what you’re doing, step out, think back to the original task, take a new starting position and go again.
Whenever a 10 minute session had finished, to Reset: go outside, breath a few times and get back in and start a new session. (we had the luxury of a small garden at the studio)
The performer was visibly more at easy when there was permission to Reset whenever she felt like it was necessary to do so.
At some point she would start to feel the thoughts coming. What happend was that in stead of taking a break when the Monkey Mind was fully present, she would Reset before it had arrived. In other words: she could recognize the feeling that would swell up when the Monkey was about to charge its way into her thoughts.
An even more advanced step occurred after repeated improvisation sessions:
she would not need to stop anymore, but found the headspace to breath / Reset during improvisation.
The sessions that followed after mastering that stage of Monkey Mind awareness have been a joy for her and the entire creative process in that studio.
There were no expectations, just curiosity, creative freedom and trust.
> video
the methodology of RE/WRITE to build movement vocabulary
skill building
In the studio we focussed on Re/Writing knowledge. Embodied and cognitive knowledge already present in the performer and utilize that to develop movement vocabulary in this new apparatus. Skill Building is in fact starting to get to know the apparatus from scratch, without discarding the knowledge already present.
This approach helped in deviating from expectations, by means of curiosity. The performer shared that working in a new apparatus meant that there was no reference to expect from, that the options were endless and for her to be discovered, not for her to look up to.
This movement research, which Skill Building is, is about being on a playground.
We found three stages that had a positive effect on the Skill Building process, within the existing “3x 10 minute” improvisation sessions:
> free exploring
The performer can explore however they want, nothing is off limits. The maker is a witness, an observer, does not make notes, does not interfere. The only interference is the alarm clock, after 10 minutes.
In between sessions only the performer can share about the experience. The maker listens and does not project what was interesting or didn’t work. Only positive responses or open questions based on what the performer is sharing.
> task-based exploring
The maker has tasks for the performer to improvise with.
The maker does not interfere during the sessions, but makes notes
in three columns: What works / What if / Affirmative Feedback fromthe performer. Each 10 minute session inform the next. Making thisan iterative process to dig deeper into the movement research.
> guided exploring
The maker is verbally guiding the performer through animprovisation session. Steering towards options one can only seefrom the outside, with a maker’s mind. After each session anaffirmative feedback follows, supplemented by What If’s and indialogue with the performer.
During these sessions the performer used the tools to
Reset at any time and was excused from Saying Sorry.
This often provoked laughter and helped release the
tensions like frustration and confusion.
conclusion
We successfully maintained our creative integrity while addressing
expectations, effectively navigating the intricate dialogues that
characterized our co-creative journey. Interestingly, we discovered that
expectations weren't limited to the realm of the mind; they also manifested
physically. Suzana wrestled with the tightening of her jaws
and the emerging of stress in her upper chest. Recognizing these
physical signs was a pivotal revelation. Through our post-rehearsal
dialogues, we named "after talks," we began identifying these signs as
early warnings. Gradually, both Suzana and I, as the observer, became adept
at detecting these signals before they could hinder our progress. Suzana's
response primarily involved utilizing the RESET technique. Whenever I
sensed she hadn't reacted to these early warnings, I would suggest a RESET.
Each time, it bolstered her confidence and allowed her to continue
rehearsals or tasks with a refreshed mindset.
As a creator, my expectations were multifaceted. I anticipated Suzana's
agency over the rehearsal outcomes, her commitment, punctuality, and the
development of trust. However, not all expectations were consistently met,
leading to moments of disappointment, especially regarding punctuality.
Addressing this issue, we decided to adjust our rehearsal times, delaying
them by half an hour. Surprisingly, this minor change alleviated a
different kind of stress associated with daily routines, such as battling
traffic and the incessant buzz of alarm clocks. Rescheduling the rehearsal
times by this short interval had a positive ripple effect on the entire
day.
Reflecting on my role as a maker, I questioned whether my own mind was
restless. During the research process itself, my "Monkey Mind" remained at
ease. Each day presented an steep learning curve, offering a constant
stream of new insights that left me eagerly anticipating the next day's
exploration. I felt self-assured, placing trust in my contemplative
observations through my "Listening Eye," effectively navigating challenging
dialogues.
However, as I transitioned to the reporting phase of this research,
I began to sense restlessness fed by the pressure of my own expectations.
Questions swirled in my mind : Can I do it? Am I conveying the concepts
correctly? Did I conduct sufficient research? Am I applying the appropriate
academic terminology? This self-doubt transformed my once-calm "Monkey
Mind" into a disruptive force, to the point of losing clarity about the
research's essence.
I recognized that my entangled mind mirrored Suzana's experience, while
researching her expectations as a dancer during our co-creative journey. It
equally manifested itself physically in my body, wrestling with stress in
the upper chest and tightness in the neck. I encouraged myself to "practice
what I preached" by applying the tools we designed for the "Monkey Mind,"
allowing myself to breathe:
taking Private Time at the start of each day, contemplating the wall
filled with post-its and writings;
stop Saying Sorry for my learning curve;
and whenever I encountered a mental roadblock
I RESET-ed by going for a walk, freeing my mind, much like in my
personal meditation practice, letting thoughts drift by.
By relinquishing the negative, I created space for the positive, rekindled
my creative freedom, and reopened my "Listening Eye."
a co-creative process without expectations
In the realm of co-creative processes devoid of expectations, I embraced my
role as a maker with a commitment to respect and generosity. My approach
resonated with Diana Amans' astute observations of choreographers working
within a community context. "They foster relationships with their dancers,
showing genuine interest in each individual. Positive feedback and abundant
encouragement flow freely, with a keen awareness of valuing each dancer's
unique contributions. While clarity prevails regarding certain aspects of the
dance, there's also room for dancers to explore their own expressions within
the overarching structure. The choreographers adeptly identify challenges and
adapt the choreography accordingly" (Butterworth & Wildschut, 2018, p.262-263).
Throughout our co-creative process, I embodied the dual role of creator and
observer, embodying what I refer to as the Listening Eye. This practice
involves dedicated observation of performers during improvisation, vocabulary
building, and choreographic organization, all while listening keenly to what
unfolds before me. This philosophy aligns with insights found in Karr en Wood's
book Contemplative Photography (2011, p.3), where "contemplation is rooted in
careful observation, being fully present in a space. Such presence allows
for clear seeing and the production of fresh photographic imagery. The act of
clear seeing is devoid of preconceived expectations about the outcome,
technique, or aesthetic judgment. Instead, it aligns with the creative essence
within, producing photography that resonates authentically with the original
vision." When replacing the word photography with choreography, it allignes
perfectly with what I mean with the Listening Eye.
Karr en Wood (2011, p.2) quoted photographer Aaron Siskind, who captures this
sentiment eloquently: "We look at the world and see what we have learned to
believe is there, what we have been conditioned to expect... but as
photographers, we must learn to relax our beliefs."
Thus, through the interplay of respectful co-creation, contemplative
observation, and the release of expectations, our journey empowered our belief
in creating from form through content, ultimately enriching the choreographic
process.
