Wednesday, 24 July 2019

Thought from 2008

Going to dance class is like going to work. It's an incubator for research and communication through movement and ideas. It's a community. It's a dancer's currency. It's the vehicle from which creative practice springs. It's a hot house, a place of meeting and sharing. It's an art class, a jam, a performance. It's all of these things. A phrase of movement is a sentence that is said out loud. A musical phrase which is danced. It's a complex mathematical problem. It's an expression. It's a song passed from one to another or a story being retold. It's a meditation. It's nothing but gust of air. An ocean current.

Monday, 7 May 2018

This material is part of an ongoing research that started in 2013 with a residency on the Island of Uist with Giorgia Minisini and Charlotte Jarvis. The footage with Scottish Dance Theatre was filmed after a two and a half hour rehearsal with the dancers: Harry, Oskar and Alicia, but gives an idea of the type of direction I'd like to take for the opening section of the piece I'm developing: 'Mus Ro Faclan Ann/Before Words'.

Sunday, 15 April 2018


I am sensing you, leaning on me. I can feel your footsteps on my soft grassy back. My spine arches through different bodies of water and earth and you can sense that. I'm not telling you where to go or how to look. I'm listening to your breath and breathing it back in as a part of my total capacity. I share this capacity exponentially to reciprocate, to breath you and therefore to support you. Let me in. You keep building frameworks to avoid me. I don't understand why. Are you scared of me because I am also a part of something that will continue long after your body has become me? I vicious because I don't lie to you. I speak certain truths that some are so afraid of, they don't ever want to hear. I speak in many languages. And you do to. You just don't let yourself, most of the time. Here is something so red, you can't believe. Here is something so green that it stretches your mind. Here is something that stretched the edges: it looks like arms, but it's not. It looks like a face but it's not. It looks like it's dead but it's not. It feels like it's more than a thousand times more expensive than the most expensive fabric you can buy. But it's not like that. It's just that you don't have another history through which to experience my glory. Which consequently is why there has been such a throw back to Imperialism in fashion. However, even this important awakening without conscious affirmation of it's total failures and current re-direction of - may be further disregarded. You are the generation. You are the peoples now with the biggest hope. Acceptance and multiculturalism thrives in my midst. It is the way of the forest. Even before these trees were planted, my heart has been buried deeper down in a swampier, darker time. Before the polished police force of neoliberalism crystallises and sells this multi-tribal awakening, take the roots and plunge them into suspended time. They can't be touched there. With each pulse, we stay connected and with each breath we exchange. Therefore slowly, we metamorphose. We develop to become a consciousness re-found. This isn't just something that is textual or uni- dimensional. It dissects every category and every profession. This isn't about proof, measure, analysis or observation. This is about realising those processes are doorways to more doorways and that doorways are only doorways, because we once walked through a forest and got lost.

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

Touring Network's Spring Gathering 2017

Driving up to Boat of Garten for Rural Touring Network's Spring Gathering 2017: I feel the anticipation and the nervousness of 'pitching' my work. Having never done this before but being excited by the prospect of meeting face to face the programmers: some of whom I've been communicating over the last six months. Rocking up at the village hall and waiting in my car I see other cars beginning to pull up. Camper vans, a few friendly dogs and a man in checked dungarees that must be a performer...I enter the building and am greeted by Rhiannon, the event organiser. She gives me the info I need to get myself organised and the day kicks off with the first presentation. A great way to start the day with a touring circus act. Engaging and warm, I think about all the potential kids and young adults in rural communities who would have a lot of fun if this circus came to town. It made me remember a visiting circus not so long ago, one which I attended in Bettyhill village hall, Sutherland. After a long summer holiday of not much going on (just the way my parents liked it) my sister and I were extremely excited to spend an afternoon learning how to juggle. A skill which has stayed with me ever since! Phew, this makes me a little more nervous about my pitch, hoping that I manage not to alienate the masses with the two words, 'contemporary dance'. Luckily I mistake when I'm supposed to go on and it's earlier than I thought so I don't have much time to get nervous. What a privilege! To talk about my work in front of a room full of people. At fifteen minutes they can't get too bored right? I won't have time to wander down an existentialist and confounding path, one that is confusing even to myself. I start off a little bit spacey...but after a few moments I stick myself to the script. Pin myself into the task in hand which is to represent and 'sell' my work. At least I have images and video to back up this verbal presentation. I congratulate myself for remembering to talk about the educational aspect of the work and how keen I am to spend time wherever I visit to meet the local community there. That is something that I have discovered and know from working rurally: It's as much about the give as the take. It's about talking with people; it's about spending the time before and after a show. It's about the integration of life and art. Of performance and party. Of reflecting and doing in equal measure. It's a different approach to time. Moving on to the afternoon: a merry band of artists present their work and how great it is to see the diversity! From plays to children's dance shows, from Gaelic song to Aberdonian Folk: I feel like I've been to an eclectic variety show and with each act the performance is tangible and more 'bookable' than if solely on paper, video or CD. Sitting in for the day I'm put in the promotor's shoes, not a bad place from where to observe what works and clearly grabs the interest of the group. During lunch and into the afternoon I have a few lovely conversations with programmers who are interested in the work. It's a great way to get a real feel for the place you may visit and the amount of information passed in a ten minute conversation far surpasses even the amount gained in ten e-mails. At dinner the conversations become more varied and not solely focussed on selling and booking. Meeting old friends and colleagues is a delight. Catching up while passing the time in a newly built village hall, just like the ones many programmers are representing, is a great way to get a feel for a rural venue. After a thoroughly lovely but exhausting day, full of promise and inspiration I hear some great live music, organised through the youth strand of the Touring Network. To wind up, a visit to the local bar, talking to the wee small hours. Only to wake up a few hours later with the forest on my doorstep and a journey ahead back to the central belt and into the studio. Inspired by this glimpse of where I could be headed I jump in the car and get going. Thanks Touring Network and thanks The Workroom for connecting people and transforming places...

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Monday, 11 July 2016

Tired of all who come with words, words but no language I went to the snow-covered island. The wild does not have words. The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions! I come across the marks of a roe-deer’s hooves in the snow. Language, but no words. - Tomas Tranströmer

Saturday, 2 July 2016

Application for PACT residency-Mus Ro

Mus Ro Faclan Ann is Gaelic for Before Words. This project came about by living on the Outer Hebridean island of Uist. Uist is one of the most Westerly points in Europe along with the string of islands that create this incredible place. At the time I was reading David Abram, an ecologist and philospher whose approach to Animism fed into my physical dance practice. Animism encompasses the beliefs that there is no separation between the spiritual and physical world and that souls or spirits exist, not only in humans, but in animals, plants, rocks, geographic features such as mountains, rivers or other entities of the natural environment including thunder, wind and shadows. In essence what I was reading about I was experiencing by being in this place and by being in this place my physical understanding of movement and therefore my choreography was changing. What’s more the Gaelic language was foreign to me and yet seemed like feature of this landscape. In the conception of my experience into live performance, the elements I include are dance, song, sound, image and lighting. Each of these elements has as much importance for me as the next and should be interwoven so that there is no visible differentiation between elements. I try to as much as I can, within my choreographic choices, use the inherent qualities of the materials to work with. This means not only the output: which movements arise in which order, but to think about how the movement was generated in the first place and the knock on effect that has. Coming back to the concept for the work, I want to shift the audience’s perception between their experience of sound, song, movement and image so that they don’t experience the representation of ideas, which is what language offers. Rather something transmitting directly without being able to be named.