In my choreography I am currently investigating a poetics of time—asking: how can dance disclose the properties of time while deepening our experience of its passing? Beyond altering our perception of time, does dance have the power to sculpt time itself? My recent work has addressed these questions by distilling the flux of movement to an elemental truth and, at the same time, elaborating intricate choreographic forms from single gestures. I enact multiple structures at once: image and ideology, politics and eros, rhythm and stillness—they surge, dissolve, recur, and form densities of meaning, each layer refracting into a prismatic event.

 

 

 

More than a method, my process is an orientation: an orientation or attention to this moment, to what the material is trying to tell me. I am an avant-gardener (the poet/sculptor Ian Hamilton Finlay’s phrase), cultivating both the wild weeds and the rare blooms of the Dance, nurturing the rhizomatic growth of its form in time. Tangents and errors become the right way for the work to develop. I find that the inner life of the material arrives in surprising and un-beautiful beautiful ways.

 

 

 

I reflect constantly on my own preoccupation with “form” and its relation to identity-making and to the (uneven) distribution of power locally and globally. I believe that corruption and violence proliferate in a cultural soil where beauty is homogenized and truth-telling takes on increasingly simplified and didactic forms; the gentrification of art flourishes where feeling is flattened into sentimentality and exploited for political ends. My choreography follows Abigail Childs’ dictum: “radical form equals radical content.” Art liberates not by propagandistic persuasion but by transformations of perception, changes in how we see and feel that remake the ground of our politics.