HUB

the archive and movement laboratory of conceptual dance theatre company A House Unbuilt... spending at least an hour a day, making space, marking time,—making enough room to feel, tremendously, again.

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7 posts tagged failure

HUB 288:
A swing, a pillow, and three oversized matchsticks.  She plays alone today. Residual Artifact

HUB 259: 
feeling disoriented and dissatisfied when moving through this and making the edit, BUT, better push it out and get the response so to get over it. Manufactured ArtifactResidual Artifact

HUB 253:
Re-striping the floors, stripping down out of loss, …to quote from recent correspondence:

My dearest—,
I must apologize for my silence. Things have been busy. I have finally settled into my new apartment and am happy with my new roommate here. I’m facing a lot of uncertainty about what’s next and yet somewhere inside me feel I know the right thing to do—only self-doubt and fear of disappointing others and perhaps that inevitable fear of failure are the things looming and keeping me from just FEELING aright. But I have pressed onward. In fact, this week has been a bumpy one, taking much effort to keep my spirits up… my newfound collaborator A has sent me an impersonal five sentence email stating he can no longer continue working with me. No real explanation. But of course, he’s given me permission to use the material we generated and hopes his decision doesn’t keep us from having future conversations about dance, etc. etc. Part of me is angry, but more than anything I’m hurt and disappointed, as now I am again alone, a single body, no counterpart to explore that new range of movement of which I only got a taste. I am trying to have hope that it will come again, but can’t get myself caught up in that to the point of not knowing how to move on my own. I have a very hard time splitting my focus, though, that’s just the thing… Despite all this technology and social media, I am a horrible multitasker. In fact, the neurologists say our brains can’t really multitask at all, we just call it that—we can just do many things at one time with less consistent quality… As for the letter writing/dance project that is now in my hands alone…. I wanted to let you know that I’d like to work with some of our correspondence, some the correspondence you sent me from your family, etc., as I begin to move forward with the work on my own terms. “There are always other players—imagined or otherwise.” And I realize now that A was just one of those, and I value so much this dialogue we share just as much as the month-long dance/dialogue I shared with him. Even as you and I pass in and out of silence (much my own fault I know), I feel your presence and support… and your smile.

Residual Artifact

HUB 87:
I cannot seem to quiet my mind about having put you through that horrific scene last night.  I keep conjecturing on the very valid critique that should come my way.  If you could just tell me the worst of it now so I can perhaps get over it and stop this preoccupation with failure.  I know good things can come of all this but right now it all feels awful.  Also, I’m likely being just as absurd with these words as with the performance, so feel free to roll your eyes at me, as I wrote on the wall to you last night.

The aftermath…

is how, at midway through this three hour piece, I realized there needn’t be a piece anymore, that it was all too much, that it was irrelevant, that all those emotions came up then and really only then did the piece begin.  It was only then that i could demand water, a cigarette and stop the noise.  It was only then that i could command the audience with my words.  It was only then, in the aftermath of trying so hard to achieve something, that I might have achieved something… and maybe only one image is needed to show that, or a sound, or some form or editing and translation that is perhaps as simple as this screenshot of my unsubscribing from the mood chart study that had been prescribing my life to me for the past year and a half.  I had to make the work to realize i didn’t have to show the work… or what needed to be shown was not the making but the understanding gleaned from it. Residual ArtifactManufactured Artifact

HUB 69.2:

Marking Time, Part I:
4 years, marked in months

Physically taxing
Excess (owning up to…
indulging…
and not apologizing for)

Glue on paper = Marriage (?)
Inconsistencies between demeanor and disorder. Residual Artifact

HUB 63.3:
Silly drawings? …

Yellow boat taxies under the river.
Ball parks in full bloom,
Players on the field.

Residual Artifact

HUB 31:
Boxed in yet wandering, letting it out intermittently throughout the day, distracting myself with students and work, flirting with indulgence, failing to truly make sustained space this day.  Images from SAIC’s BFA Opening this evening, Jaeuk Song, Tom Hogan, and (unfortunately I didn’t get the name on this one, coming soon…)—images that struck me, stilled me. (m.a.)

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