Blog Post 3: 09.20.18 I’ve been thinking about temporal drag, as defined by Elizabeth Freeman in her essay “Packing History,” and what this could mean regarding older versions of a movement piece being the beginnings of a new one. I know this isn’t what the term originated to explain but it seems a helpful extension into an art practice as far as--- how do meanings of the same movement vocabulary change over time even in relatively short historical term. I tend to reject lineage or legacy in my own art projects, tending to approach each project as if it is a beta phase where I am just trying things out. While this mindset is usually freeing it also might be missing some due respect to material it uses as beginnings, perhaps from the perspective that looking backwards (at least somewhat) is a good way to move forward with more intention.


Erin Palovick and I (pictured above) are currently starting a new dance together that we are in the very early phases of, that has little to do with the projects we have made together before, but starts from some of the same ideas and movement vocabulary. By that I mean sitting on porches and almost starting to physically rehearse until we end up laughing for hours and taking walks and getting what we needed instead of what we set out to do. Some examples of our process when we made a video piece, Silent Like a Waterfall last year: we drove in a day to Florida, literally crashed an afternoon baby shower, got in a swimming pool fully clothed with shoes on, submerged a DSLR in a plastic bubble, accepted a free ride from a person driving a golf cart, ate donuts on a beach, wore fanny packs and let ourselves be tour guides with flashlights, like some fever-dream coming-of-age film we never would have found any other way.  Lately we even cancel rehearsals. Cancelling as a choreography of making space and trusting that the process and each other will be there. Cancelling because the capitalist drive of make make make more more more can be counterproductive to the work sometimes, and yes it even lives (perhaps especially lives) in dance spaces.
Some early thoughts on this work : actually taking out the trash, making and performing dances only in lived-in spaces, longing as an ever-receeding location, folding, descriptions of a painting as the work itself.