Tag Archives: choreography

More… ahem… evidence…

My favorite part is when Bridget is asleep and telling me about her dreams and she says, “Armageddon!”  That’s so metal.

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in which our heroines are super optimistic while juggling other projects; trying to be computer savvy

Hi good people!

First off, I have to just acknowledge that we have been a little out of sorts this past week because of the death of our friend and volunteer, John Moore. He was an extremely kind and generous man. He was smart and talented and laughed a lot. We loved him personally and professionally. We will miss you very much, John.

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On a happier note, ticktock is moving into the summer with a bunch of prospects and a slew of festival applications in hand. You might have spied Jill recently performing solo at the Brotherhood in Olympia. We will be returning to Oly at the end of May, performing no.1 — probably at the Royal but we are also exploring the idea of performing the show in an open air venue there… I don’t want to say too much but we will keep you posted. It’s so exciting! In July, I (hey, it’s Elizabeth!) will be taking my solo to Austin to perform in the Big Range Dance Festival. I am super psyched about that because I am from Austin, and haven’t performed there in over 10 years now. I can’t wait to see what old friends and collaborators have to say about my new work. I am eager to hear their feedback– they have a unique perspective of me as an artist. They knew me “when”.

I just spent about a dozen hours cutting video of no.1 into a ten minute trailer. I will definitely post a link…as soon as I figure out how to get the darn thing off of Bruce’s computer and in the correct format and online. Groan. It is hard work, ya’ll! I did it for support material for a bunch of applications– some things in the PNW, some not. I will post updates here on what pans out. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

As for now, Jill and I have a bunch of shows with our other project, the Aerialistas, coming up in the Moisture Festival. We opened at ACT Theatre this weekend, and will move on to Hales Palladium and Open Space on Vashon Island. You can see the full schedule of all my performances at lizaroseaerial.com. I will be performing my trap solo from no.1 twice at Hales, and Jill and Bridget will be making appearances at Aerlift on Mar. 24th, performing new ticktock works in progress. Jill might do her freaky avant Train Sounds rope solo– not to be missed!

In the meantime, we are in the studio working a lot on our hand-to-hand and acro skills. I don’t know why, but that just seems to be where our interests lie these days. Ideas are percolating for the next show, and it is going to be weird. Very, very weird. We can’t wait.

Leave us a comment if you’re reading this. We’d like to hear from you!


on feb. 14

We are entangled. We have convoluted weight shifts. All that effort feels good. And ease? That could feel good…to execute and to witness. Laban theory I learned through modern dance training clarifies possibilites. Laban categorized Effort in Flow: free or bound, Weight: light or strong, Time: sustained or quick. Space: direct or indirect.
Is the movement fluid or restrained? How much weight should I put into this? Am I floating or thrusting? Gliding or slashing? Dabbing or wringing? Flicking or pressing? We are open to a myriad of movements. These movements all have vast emotional content. Do we make that jumpy, allegro piece that we talk about? We will delve deeper and look closer at the edges of circus and dance and what qualities these disciplines sustain that make them distinct. We deconstruct again and reconstruct again. The story lies within it all girls, let’s try to not overanalyze it. Easily said…


j-tock

hanging out at the studio today, we got a very complicated, effort-full way of getting each other from one side of the stage to the other…..it’s all effort, the difference is in how much we allow you to see…. can you force choreography to tell a story, or does the movement just come out and tell you which story it wants you to get out on the table? uuuuuuhhhhh….i’m happy with the progress and the transitions we’re working on, but who is going to be there to carry bridget to the fabric? does this make sense that the manipulated (elizabeth) teams up with the manipulators and then becomes the last one? i feel like the only constant role is that our roles are constantly changing. sounds about right…..


Jill’s post no.1

Beginnings….are not my forte. if anything, i start with the end and work my way backwards. the last thing is what i usually remember the most, so i feel it deserves extra special attention. would that explain my preoccupation with death? hmmmm….anyways, I’m glad the beginning is behind us and we are marching full-steam ahead into the meat of our process.

Working for other’s projects began to feel like compulsively collecting experience, consuming rather than creating. Procrastinating by filling every last minute being dedicated to someone else. There were many lessons and rewards that came from that, but as the clock ticktocked away, i realized that postmodern circus was the thing that i wanted to pour my energy into.

I like to choreograph movement phrases in public spaces, away from the pressure of the studio and the mirrors flinging my distortion back at me. Seattle Center skate park, after dark, commanding an invisible army from the cold smooth concrete cliff. it’s a violent gestural arm phrase that cuts through my steamy breath. the audience of no one is captivated as i capitate my imagined assailant. “Okay, My turn now…” a skater carves the park back into it’s intended form. I pull my sleeves over my hands and practice press-to-handstands on a grindrail, which proves to be more difficult than my mind says it is. I run up the wall and do a jump turn. the ground comes up too soon from the dimly lit air and i have to improvise a side-roll to keep my face blood-free and my teeth where they belong. the skater criss-crosses my path unshaken. we’re soloists on two separate stages that happen to take up the same space-time tube. Our oblivion of each other is intentional, and neither one of us has a desire to learn the other’s vocabulary. I fold the audience back into myself and walk away a teeny bit of new material.