One of the most intriguing things that I have been discovering in the work of Trisha Brown is the “psychology” behind the movements. In these early rehearsals, grasping the choreography has been very difficult for me. I’ve realized part of this is due to the lack of music during rehearsals. Before working on these pieces, I’d never realized how much I use music as a pathway through the dance. I follow the rhythm, the progression of the melody, the shifts in tempo. The way that we have been introduced to Trisha Brown’s work, thrown into the mix of movement, has been a completely new experience, physically and psychologically. There is nothing to hold onto or hide behind. Rather, the choreography requires the utmost presence and attention to the physical body. Simutaneously, the choreography is in constant flux and endlessly specific to each dancer. I find myself constructing images in my mind that inspire the movements, naming certain sections of the dances we are learning. Certain movements correlate to deep colors and shapes, others to more ambiguous fluid images of nature or machinery. I find myself paying attention to my breath more, the angle of my head in relation to space as opposed to the angle of my head in relation to how the audience will see it. I find myself noticing the small space at the back of my neck, often crunched. The shape of the entire body is more important than the line(s) that the audience will see. In this work, each dancer interprets the movement uniquely. There is uniformity yet originality. This approach allows for an incredible sense of discovery and freedom, but only after one embraces experiencing each movement as opposed to “doing” the movement.

I became aware of this psychological leap that I was going to have to take when we began working on the Falls within the piece. I kept thinking that I would “fall” when I felt ready, when I understood the dance and the choreography. But this is not how Trisha Brown’s work exists. Hesitancy chokes the movement. The piece evolves as you move through it. No movement or step is single, it is a small part of an entire process/evolution of movement. I don’t think there is perfect way to do Trisha’s work. Or maybe there is, but perfection and “seeming” are much less important than existing fully in the movement. Presence. I have only just discovered the tip of the iceberg, I am sure. But this discovery is endlessly exciting to me. Dance is not rigid, it is a constant process of discovery. You must embrace the movement, the falls and the surprises in order to exist within the dance.