The change in energy between working in the studio and revealing work in a demo can be quite intense. An added layer of pressure to perform well can creep in when there are eyes on you, often disrupting the bond between oneself and the work. Yet, there is a counterbalancing factor, a potential energizing response that is also a reality.
It's often an impossible challenge, and potentially futile attempting to make judgments about whether what is unfolding in the moments of public demonstration or studio work is “good” or “bad”.
Stick to the task. Even when you find yourself drifting, puzzled, detached or lacking in inspiration, stick to it. Countless times in the studio, during a session or run-through, I've found myself in this state, only to review the footage later and be pleasantly surprised.
Then there are times when everything comes together perfectly. Resist the urge to bask in the celebration. Stick to the task. Put those judements aside. I've had great-feeling performances that on later reflection were far from the strongest.
Certain spectators at the demo likened our performance to a form of channeling. But still, I question if it's merely that or the result of countless hours spent together; time that extends beyond just a working relationship. Perhaps both.
I can confidently say Annamari will always be present. I trust in her. I know I'll feel her presence, and she'll reciprocate... even when we find ourselves in our individual universes.
It's astonishing, the level of interaction we've established within these parameters. Our non-verbal communication may be more profound and genuine than words ever could be. There is something to be said for a relationship not only forged in the studio but in life at large. As life partners, parents of a young child, and longstanding dance partners, we share an extensive history.
We've explored an array of topics together, from arts and dance to philosophy and politics to parenting. We coexist within the same household. We've tapped into each other's intricate lives in a way that can only culminate in our unique physical language of communication. It's a rare dynamic that dance unveils.
The crux of the matter is you can't truly assess its worth within the moment of creation. And this is perfectly logical. The goal is not to reach some lofty climax. The goal is to share. Determining its value in terms of "good" or "bad" holds no relevance because they each provide insight.
It intrigues me how we spontaneously construct narratives or some form of logic. Everything that transpires is the result of the present moment, and the result can be surprisingly complex. This bond is something that I have learned to trust deeply within the context of our ability to dialogue outside of the frame of verbal communication.
The change in energy between working in the studio and revealing work in a demo can be quite intense. An added layer of pressure to perform well can creep in when there are eyes on you, often disrupting the bond between oneself and the work. Yet, there is a counterbalancing factor, a potential energizing response that is also a reality.
It's often an impossible challenge, and potentially futile attempting to make judgments about whether what is unfolding in the moments of public demonstration or studio work is “good” or “bad”.
Stick to the task. Even when you find yourself drifting, puzzled, detached or lacking in inspiration, stick to it. Countless times in the studio, during a session or run-through, I've found myself in this state, only to review the footage later and be pleasantly surprised.
Then there are times when everything comes together perfectly. Resist the urge to bask in the celebration. Stick to the task. Put those judements aside. I've had great-feeling performances that on later reflection were far from the strongest.
Certain spectators at the demo likened our performance to a form of channeling. But still, I question if it's merely that or the result of countless hours spent together; time that extends beyond just a working relationship. Perhaps both.
I can confidently say Annamari will always be present. I trust in her. I know I'll feel her presence, and she'll reciprocate... even when we find ourselves in our individual universes.
It's astonishing, the level of interaction we've established within these parameters. Our non-verbal communication may be more profound and genuine than words ever could be. There is something to be said for a relationship not only forged in the studio but in life at large. As life partners, parents of a young child, and longstanding dance partners, we share an extensive history.
We've explored an array of topics together, from arts and dance to philosophy and politics to parenting. We coexist within the same household. We've tapped into each other's intricate lives in a way that can only culminate in our unique physical language of communication. It's a rare dynamic that dance unveils.
The crux of the matter is you can't truly assess its worth within the moment of creation. And this is perfectly logical. The goal is not to reach some lofty climax. The goal is to share. Determining its value in terms of "good" or "bad" holds no relevance because they each provide insight.
It intrigues me how we spontaneously construct narratives or some form of logic. Everything that transpires is the result of the present moment, and the result can be surprisingly complex. This bond is something that I have learned to trust deeply within the context of our ability to dialogue outside of the frame of verbal communication.
The change in energy between working in the studio and revealing work in a demo can be quite intense. An added layer of pressure to perform well can creep in when there are eyes on you, often disrupting the bond between oneself and the work. Yet, there is a counterbalancing factor, a potential energizing response that is also a reality.
It's often an impossible challenge, and potentially futile attempting to make judgments about whether what is unfolding in the moments of public demonstration or studio work is “good” or “bad”.
Stick to the task. Even when you find yourself drifting, puzzled, detached or lacking in inspiration, stick to it. Countless times in the studio, during a session or run-through, I've found myself in this state, only to review the footage later and be pleasantly surprised.
Then there are times when everything comes together perfectly. Resist the urge to bask in the celebration. Stick to the task. Put those judements aside. I've had great-feeling performances that on later reflection were far from the strongest.
Certain spectators at the demo likened our performance to a form of channeling. But still, I question if it's merely that or the result of countless hours spent together; time that extends beyond just a working relationship. Perhaps both.
I can confidently say Annamari will always be present. I trust in her. I know I'll feel her presence, and she'll reciprocate... even when we find ourselves in our individual universes.
It's astonishing, the level of interaction we've established within these parameters. Our non-verbal communication may be more profound and genuine than words ever could be. There is something to be said for a relationship not only forged in the studio but in life at large. As life partners, parents of a young child, and longstanding dance partners, we share an extensive history.
We've explored an array of topics together, from arts and dance to philosophy and politics to parenting. We coexist within the same household. We've tapped into each other's intricate lives in a way that can only culminate in our unique physical language of communication. It's a rare dynamic that dance unveils.
The crux of the matter is you can't truly assess its worth within the moment of creation. And this is perfectly logical. The goal is not to reach some lofty climax. The goal is to share. Determining its value in terms of "good" or "bad" holds no relevance because they each provide insight.
It intrigues me how we spontaneously construct narratives or some form of logic. Everything that transpires is the result of the present moment, and the result can be surprisingly complex. This bond is something that I have learned to trust deeply within the context of our ability to dialogue outside of the frame of verbal communication.
The change in energy between working in the studio and revealing work in a demo can be quite intense. An added layer of pressure to perform well can creep in when there are eyes on you, often disrupting the bond between oneself and the work. Yet, there is a counterbalancing factor, a potential energizing response that is also a reality.
It's often an impossible challenge, and potentially futile attempting to make judgments about whether what is unfolding in the moments of public demonstration or studio work is “good” or “bad”.
Stick to the task. Even when you find yourself drifting, puzzled, detached or lacking in inspiration, stick to it. Countless times in the studio, during a session or run-through, I've found myself in this state, only to review the footage later and be pleasantly surprised.
Then there are times when everything comes together perfectly. Resist the urge to bask in the celebration. Stick to the task. Put that feeling aside. I've had great-feeling performances that on later reflection were far from the strongest.
Certain spectators at the demo likened our performance to a form of channeling. But still, I question if it's merely that or the result of countless hours spent together; time that extends beyond just a working relationship. Perhaps both.
I can confidently say Annamari will always be present. I trust in her. I know I'll feel her presence, and she'll reciprocate... even when we find ourselves in our individual universes.
It's astonishing, the level of interaction we've established within these parameters. Our non-verbal communication may be more profound and genuine than words ever could be. There is something to be said for a relationship not only forged in the studio but in life at large. As life partners, parents of a young child, and longstanding dance partners, we share an extensive history.
We've explored an array of topics together, from arts and dance to philosophy and politics to parenting. We coexist within the same household. We've tapped into each other's intricate lives in a way that can only culminate in our unique physical language of communication. It's a rare dynamic that dance unveils.
The crux of the matter is you can't truly assess its worth within the moment of creation. And this is perfectly logical. The goal is not to reach some lofty climax. The goal is to share. Determining its value in terms of "good" or "bad" holds no relevance because they each provide insight.
It intrigues me how we spontaneously construct narratives or some form of logic. Everything that transpires is the result of the present moment, and the result can be surprisingly complex. This bond is something that I have learned to trust deeply within the context of our ability to dialogue outside of the frame of verbal communication.