O N  M A K I N G

My childhood was full of making music, paintings, scrapbooks, and one-woman theatre productions. I would build the instruments myself, hang a bed-sheet for a backdrop, and sell tickets to the show to my family members and our cat—this doesn’t feel far off from my art practices today. My long-standing relationship with DIY problem solving is still very central to my creative processes, now evidenced in my work as a dancer, dance-maker, collage-maker, and writer. I consistently find these multiple modes of creating bleeding into one another and filtering themselves into the live performance experiences I aim to create.

 

My making is deeply directed by experiences of trauma, leading me to creatively consider concepts such as dissociation, false memory, catharsis, and fog. I find clarity in making messes, and work to overlap and fray the edges between these ideas, senses, and kinesthetic sensibilities. The choreography prioritizes sensation over shape, often with a goal of disorientation or physicalized multi-tasking, quickly transposing from billowing sweeps of limbs and torso to oddly exacting gestural rhythms. These vacillating systems build asymmetrical, multi-layered collages that seem to always be teetering on the brink of dissolve, only held together by the thoughtful choice-making of the performers or a strip of blue painter’s tape.

 

I use these processes as an empathetic way of relating to the world and trust them to bring challenge, curiosity, and healing to my life. For me, my artistic practices serve as an attempt at resolution and I aim to curate similar experiences for audience members and collaborators alike. Our communal practices become vital, our problem-solving skills more keen, and our sense of selves more fulfilled as our time in the studio directly relates to the every-day; a cyclical endeavor from collaging, choreographing, and beyond.