Being a Choreographer

I’ve been thinking a lot about collaboration and how that works in choreography.

I’ve had the pleasure of working with professional choreographers for both theatre and concert dance, and of being a choreographer for both theatre and concert dance.

Often, the idea of a “choreographer” is one who comes in, with the dance fully envisioned, and ready to teach it to the willing dancers, who take it on and become vessels of the “the art.” This is choreographer as a top-down role; perhaps a teacher or a creator, but definitely NOT a collaborator.

Collaboration can only happen in the room, with the people involved. If I come in already knowing all the answers or “the way” to do it, I’m not collaborating. Collaborating is about finding out what other possibilities exist, that we never could have imagined on our own.

There are times I absolutely do “set” choreography- most often this occurs when the ensemble has to be in unison together. Creating and then teaching choreography is the most efficient way to ensure that everyone is doing the same thing, in the same way. Setting choreography can also be really supportive of a performer who maybe doesn’t identify as a “dancer,” or a “strong dancer.”

But a lot of times, I co-create choreography.

With the KINesphere dances, which I’ve received grant funding for 3 times in the past 5 years (every time I’ve requested it, to be clear), the process is extremely co-creative. I come in with ideas. The dancer begins moving those ideas. We find new movement based on HOW they move the phrase, or what’s interesting to them in the phrase, or the setting, or the weather, or a movement they brought with them.

With musical theatre pieces, I include a lot of “character moments.” In ensemble numbers, that might be me “setting” choreography, and then coming to a certain part of the song and saying “make a pose for your character in this moment” or “how would your character leave the stage?” Or, especially for solos, it might be me giving “landmarks”— for example, “on this word do this, and for this chorus do this”— but leaving the rest of the number open for acting choices.

In a really condensed rehearsal process, this way of working would be difficult, if not impossible. In large ensemble shows, the same is true. And, that’s probably one of the reasons I don’t get asked to choreograph a lot of musicals. People know that my way of working wouldn’t fit those scenarios well.

And there’s nothing wrong with that. I love the way I work. I love finding moments I never would have discovered or created on my own. And my choreographic style is my own, and maybe different than folks are used to encountering. But that doesn’t make it wrong, or bad, or even less rigorous or technical than setting choreography.

Perhaps it is even more rigorous, because working with me requires you to come ready to share, rather than be filled. Working with me asks that you know your body and can make embodied choices. Or at least be open to all of those things.

So, I’m thinking about trading in the title “choreographer,” and going with “movement co-creator,” or something…..

Silver Palm Award Gratitude

I am so honored to be receiving my 3rd Silver Palm- this time for choreography and performance of “The Dark” in The Impossible Task of Today at TheatreLab. I haven’t been on stage in nearly a decade, so to have this performance recognized is really lovely.

Here’s what the judges had to say:

Performance and choreography in The Impossible Task of Today at Theatre Lab. Nicole Perry played The Dark, a shadowy figure who haunts, comforts, and tortures the main character, a man who lost his wife in a mass shooting. Her beautiful, choreographed dance performance was undeniably one of the most riveting in recent years, giving soul and depth to a flawless production.

I think the Silver Palms are so special in our community, because the judges can truly pick anything and anyone to award. So to be chosen as one of those somethings and someones is very meaningful. I am grateful. And, I would be so silly to not take this opportunity to thank the folks who helped me create “The Dark”.

I am incredibly grateful for Matt Stabile and Iain Batchelor, who helped me create this role. Iain, who played Jack, was my constant companion, inspiration, foil, and playmate. For Matt to give me an opportunity not only to create, to but perform, was such an unexpected gift, and I hope I fulfilled his visions of “The Dark.” And, of course, Jeff Bower, who wrote Impossible Task, gave me such a gift and challenge in this cinematic character.

I know “The Dark” only achieved its effect because of the set design of Michael McClain, the lighting design of George Horrocks, and the sound design of Matt Corey. I mean, I had my own theme song, I came out of walls, and lights changed color as I moved. It was truly beautiful staging.

Then there was the incredible costume designed by Chelsea Tuffy that was so spooky, and added to the story (while giving me fun challenges like vision… jk. I could see.). And special thanks Tim Bowman, who literally had to dress and undress me and make sure I could see.

TheatreLab consistently has the best team of collaborators, and is one of my favorite places to work. The environment Matt, Cassie, Jill, Rose, Zoe, and Aubrey have created there is great.

And, Vaishnavi, Kailynn, and Anthony- you are just the best. The best. I’m so glad I got to play with you.

All the Natalie Portmans review

I was honored to be the movement director (handling intimacy, fights, and dance) for All the Natalie Portmans at Thinking Cap Theatre. Check out the production’s review in South Florida Theater Magazine here.

Talking about Choreography

I have an interview up with VoyageMIA talking about choreography. It’s one of the “Hidden Gems” on their website.

Review for The Fantasticks at Island City Stage

I was really honored by the mention of my role as both ID and choreographer on this new version of The Fantasticks currently up at Island City Stage. (so much so, you can find that quote all over this website now….).

Check it out here.

Review for Lovesong at Thinking Cap Theatre

I had the honor and collaborative joy of serving as intimacy director and movement director for Lovesong at Thinking Cap Theatre in their new space in Hollywood.

South Florida Theatre Magazine review

Live Arts 23-24 Season Wrap

This week I have production meetings for 3 shows in organizations 24-25 theatre seasons, so it seems like a good time to wrap 23-24!
-3 shows as an ID (one was both dance and intimacy) that played out of state
-15 professional productions creating dance, intimacy, and/or violence
- 6 shows in educational settings with intimacy or dance by me
And 24-25 is off to a strong start!

(Un)Professional Care

The other day I tweeted (Xed?) “What is ‘unprofessional’ about care?” My difficult experiences at educational institutions, coupled with the stories shared by a few colleagues in educational institutions across the country, my other job as an intimacy coordinator, and my recent viewing of an episode of Murdoch Mysteries in which Dr. Ogden is fired because she prioritized the care of a patient of the ego of a male doctor led to this question. 

The idea that care is unprofessional stems from a supremacist cultural normative ideal: a cis, heterosexual, white, able-bodied male. Performance Artist Johanna Hedva ([2016] 2022) wrote in her seminal essay on disability justice, Sick Woman Theory,

What is so destructive about this conception of wellness as the default, as the standard 

mode of existence, is that it invents illness as temporary. When being sick is an abhorrence to the norm, it allows us to conceive of care and support in the same way.

Care and support, in this configuration, are only required sometimes. When sickness is temporary, care and support are not normal. (emphasis mine)

Care is not normal in our world. Which is exactly what makes care necessary. 

Care, the arts, and teaching are all devalued in a society that values product over process. Our society is built on hierarchy, rather than community. However, if we are to humanize our profession, we must accept bodies and boundaries, and create community. Only through humanization will we prevent trauma and burn-out, and create an industry that values the artist as well as the art.

Hedva points out in the essay that part of the “problem” of care is gender. Women are often seen as needing more care, and are, professionally and domestically, more likely to be caregivers. An article in Scientific American concludes “According to ‘status value theory’, men's higher status in society means that men's roles and careers are given higher status than those of women. As a result, people value male-dominated domains more than female-dominated domains (Kaufman, 2020).” This specifically impacts care, as a report from Brunel University was summed up by its author “...the caring performed by a woman is often devalued as a 'natural' part of femininity…(Ward, 2005).” 

Dance as a profession, is often gender-coded as “female”. Coupled with the caring profession of teaching, dance educators face a double devaluation of their work. This can be compounded with pedagogies that value consent and choice, methods that can receive pushback as “realistic” or “preparing students for the real world.”

As a teacher trainer, focused specifically on helping teachers at all grade levels develop pedagogies of care, I hear the above comments often. And my response is always, “We can acknowledge the world as it is, and work to change the world.”As creators, we make new worlds! We teach students to do this as they choreograph and perform. Students and teachers do not have to settle for the world as it is, especially when we know it is harmful and devalues humanity. An ethics of care, a pedagogy of care, a creative vision of care, demands that we see the humans beside us, in our classrooms and studios. Despite the pressures of society that would term care as “unprofessional”, I would suggest that care is the only way to create a sustainable classroom, rehearsal room, and dance industry. Care is necessary to be a professional. 

In a workshop I led a few years ago on consent-forward spaces for acting teachers, in a rather famous US-based acting program, we touched briefly on the intersection of trauma- informed work with consent-forward work. One of the teachers, rather famous herself, responded that sometimes acting students are experiencing trauma or the reactivation of a trauma in the acting class, and they just need to “push through it, come out the other side, and use it to make them better actors.” I suggested to her that “if someone is experiencing trauma in your classroom, they are not actually learning. And, if they are not learning, you are not actually teaching. So, then, what are you doing?”

Trauma responses were developed for human survival. Dacher Keltner (2017) writes in The Power Paradox, “The human stress response is a dictatorial system, shutting down many other processes essential to our engagement in the world.... ...the chronic stress associated with powerlessness compromises just about every way a person might contribute to the world outside of fight-or-flight behavior” (151). When we are simply surviving, we do not have the energy to give to learning, deepening understanding or nuance, or creativity. Actively causing or allowing trauma will not create better art, better students, or better artists.

Choosing not to engage in work when trauma or harm occurs is professional. Trauma-informed teaching means that the power holder in the room must be aware that there are days that the work will not get done.The work that would get done in an activated state is not going to be our work anyway. An activated dancer may not even remember it, because their energy is being used for survival, not recall. Even if they do remember the work, it may cause activation when revisited, starting the cycle again. Sustainable work requires care.

If we are care-full educators, we must adjust our content and pedagogic methods so that we do not retraumatize or cause an additional trauma response in someone. “We cannot know everything that may activate everyone in our space. We can, however, take steps to make our spaces as welcoming to risk-taking and compassionate to complicated humans as possible” (Author, 2022. 25). As dance educators, ask them to explore those complications—  their emotions, their past experiences, their relationships with others in the room, their relationship with their own body. Dance educators must practice care. To do anything less would be unprofessional.