Circling

C U L8R

revolva76 — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 08:30:05 GMT

Certain people know this about me: I am incredibly talented at one video game. It's the last one I ever understood how to play before "joysticks" turned into graphing calculators with 800 buttons, and people could steal cars with dead hookers in them. When I stand before that machine, I transform from my everyday self into a ninja who can fire and roll the ball in such a way that extra lives rain down on the board -- all while I'm narrating my ongoing strategy to drunk friends who cannot believe that I hold such powers. Point #1: I love Centipede. Last night, my friend Emily and I went to see Vagabond Opera at the Someday Lounge. As fashionable as it was to watch gipsy klezmer, it's really not surprising that we capped off the night at Ground Kontrol, Portland's pinball/video game palace. I couldn't survive one more hour without putting my initials back into the Centipede high scores. (One of the great injustices in my world is that no matter how many times "KLJ" is in the top ten, Ground Kontrol powers off at night, the scores reset, and I have to keep coming back to recapture my glory.) Point #2: I am a nerd. I don't know if that's entirely true. Nerd-dom is a matter of perspective. To me, flocks of people who wear the same skinny jeans and the same style of resale shop boots and listen to the same music and have the same kind of skin that's so tattooed and pierced that transitioning into old age smoothly will be impossible -- are ridiculous. But in Portland, they're cool. And to me, people who play Centipede and talk about books and wear sparkly sweaters and listen to old school soul -- are interesting. So who knows? What I do know is that after reclaiming my crown, Emily and I sat on my couch until 4 a.m., lamenting the fact that language is dying. Death may be too strong of a word; it's certainly shifting, as languages often do. This shift is frightening to us. And that either makes us nerds or drunk thinkers, but we agreed that richer forms of language (along with many beautiful things on the planet) are going the way of the salmon, which is going the way of the dodo. It's true of English, and I have to believe every language, from Spanish to Farsi, is subject to the same simultaneous mass extinction as humans all over the planet communicate with fellow citizens by using their thumbs. Point #3: Text messages are ruining the world! Em teaches fifth graders. She told me that she recently had a student turn in a paper with the word "l8r" on it. In ye olde English, that should read "later." But not when you have a five second attention span and some buttons to push. When I was teaching Intro to Fiction at University of Oregon, one of my students created a section of narration that went something like this: "She walked into the party, and all of the guys were wearing togas. LOL. She grabbed a drink and started dancing." If you didn't notice anything wrong with the previous three sentences, then you think "LOL" is a sentence, and that proves my point. We're fucked! I'm totally guilty of text message shorthand, don't get me wrong. Just this morning, my Detroit friend texted that he was mailing Revolva performance footage to me. (I'm putting together a new demo). I responded, "U R a prince! xxooo" What's the difference between me and the true language destroyers? About fifteen to twenty years. The internet didn't exist, to my perception, until I was 18. I remember the original "mobile phones" when they were approximately two feet long and a foot wide and had to be plugged into a car. The first time I saw someone gabbing on a cell phone, my college friends and I collapsed into a puddle of tears; we could not stop laughing at how arrogant and stupid it was to walk down the street, talking on a phone. Text messages came to me so late in life that they can't possibly replace my preexisting understanding of language. I worry about the people coming up behind me. They're the ones who will have no recollection of life before "btw," "omg," "lol" and "l8r." Not to mention, no recollection of life before sentences such as "Groc shpping tmrw n can get u smthg." Books will still exist. Newspapers will still exist. But will they be stored online and yawned over the way I once yawned over "The Canterbury Tales"? And while we will continue to speak to each other with feeling, will human beings forever have to type LOL next to something funny instead of just crafting written words packed with humor? Will frowny face emoticons be required next to abbreviated, incomplete sentences that can't possibly convey the depth of our sadness? This is not a new topic. Just one that's on my mind. The stories we tell ourselves about the world form our reality. And if our reality, our present culture, requires change, we have to tell ourselves some new stories -- and carve out a new reality using words as our tools. I can't fathom how that's going to be possible using Text-Message-ese. I thought about this for so long last night that I hardly got any sleep. I was further confused by the fact that I had just flipped out playing Centipede, which is no more pure than microwaving a burrito, charming and retro though the game may be. I have lots of piercing thoughts about a better existence, but I also enjoy killing digital insects. And after destroying 50 zillion levels of bugs and mushrooms, I love going back to my apartment and complaining about how technology is making people stupid. Point #4: I have not quite attained pure enlightenment by transcending the state of affairs in which I was formed. Point #5: I hooped for 4 hours today -- two with Ty and two on my own -- and when I got home from the gym, all I wanted to do was make nori rolls and eat them while putting my thoughts in order. Point #6: I'm totally satisfied and happy with this entire Valentine's Day; it was exactly what I wanted to do. Point #7: I can't keep my eyes open anymore due to lack of sleep, perfect food and intense workout -- and my blogs don't have to wrap themselves up into a tidy bow anyway. They are just my thoughts, on a silver platter, for the consideration of approximately 100 people on earth. Goodnight, tribe. Or as they will say in standard English circa 2025, "C U L8R."

PDX (and Eugene): Do NOT miss this show on Saturday!

revolva76 — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 02:27:51 GMT

I'm excited to have befriended Splenduh the Unicorn during my time in Portland. First of all, I don't want to be on that bitch's bad side! Second, I'm very much looking forward to chillin' in his badass Salon on Jan. 17th. If you're depressed by an over abundance of "dark cabaret," come let this show's magickal abnormality cure your Seasonal Affective Disorder. Revolva certified guarantee: You will DIG it! (Also, I'd love it if my friends would support this project, as its put on by folks who are working hard to create a vaudeville circuit for performers, extending from San Francisco to Seattle.) THE NEW ECCENTRICS BRING YOU A NIGHT OF ABNORMAL VAUDEVILLE AT THE "SPLENDUH SALON" JANUARY 17, SOMEDAY LOUNGE * 125 SW 5, PORTLAND * 9 P.M. * $5-15 Tired of the same old boring "vaudeville shtick"? So is Splenduh the Unicorn, the magickal being banned from the Oregon Country Fair Stage in 2008 for inappropriate behavior. To relieve your existential boredom, he opens his own highly non-traditional show on Jan 17 at Portland's Someday Lounge. This magical night will feature a delicious mix of live chopsocky battles, puppet journeys to the fourth dimension, beautiful bare burlesque bodies, interactive danger juggling and one lucky person (probably you!) to be selected to be the star of the show. Splenduh has brought along some of his dearest friends and populated the night with a powerful lineup of eccentric west coast attractions, including the rusty tones of SINNER'S SERENADE... * The kung fu acrobaticalists of NANDA * Master "Object manipulator" CHARLIE BROWN * Acrobatics by KAZUM * Mistress of the hoop REVOLVA * And the burlesque artistry of BABY LE'STRANGE, ITTY BITTY BANG BANG and CHARLOTTE TREUSE Stay after the show for a dance party featuring the band SMALL SHAPES (AKA The Planets) and a short-yet-outrageous fashion show featuring the work of designer SARAH STYLES. This show will NOT feature William Batty, producer of the recent White Album Christmas show, as he talks *too goddamn much!* Maybe he'll stop by and open his loud mouth. Let's just see. The New Eccentrics are a loose collection of artists, thinkers and entertainers who say theatre doesn't have to be boring. Low-priced entertainment can be moving, exciting and wonderfully weird. This show launches an ongoing series of shows that guarantee an experience better (and cheaper) than a docile night at the movies. And, since everyone who walks through the door becomes part of the show, it may just change your life. Cancel the therapist appointments, dance more and donate your black hoodie and skinny pants to the homeless. Due to adult themes, it is advised that those of sensitive dispositions stay far away. Though his disciples are many, Splenduh does not claim to be a role model. Admission will be decided by Splenduh's Faeries – a scant $5 if you wear something fantastic, $15 if you dress like a schlub, $300 if you are William Batty.

And the "Revolvie" goes to ...

revolva76 — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 22:22:27 GMT

Congratulations to everyone who was nominated for one or more of hooping.org's "The Hoopies." Unfortunately, that made you ineligible for my own series of awards, "The Revolvies." The 2008 Revolvies are designed to honor those in the hoop community who didn't get a nod for various Hoopie categories, but who tickled my fancy anyway. This contest was judged by a panel of Revolva, and it is totally biased, and it is only meant to spread the honor around with some extra awards that have no corresponding trophy. Or monetary value. Or meaning. (Except that I love you.) And now ... (crowd hushed) A 2008 "Revolvie" goes to ... (sexy film actor opening envelope) ONLINE HOOPING VIDEO OF THE YEAR: “Vulcan Tech Blog 4” -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EweaZ6GDyPU Awesome hoop moves by Khan, Rich, Poki, Brian, etc. and also examples of other forms of object manipulation that inform and deepen hooping. I know it’s not limited to being just a hoop video, but I dig this one. Thanks, Vulcan. FAVORITE 2008 HOOP TRACK DJ Felli Fel "Get Buck in Here.” It’s the Revolvies. That’s what I revolved to all summer. Shut up. OUTSTANDING NEWBIE HOOPER Brian “Holy crap, how is he doing that?” Thompson See beginning of Vulcan Tech Blog 4. I believe he began manipulating hoops after I met his Eugene, OR juggling troupe last winter (so beginning of 2008), and now he's in the Bay Area doing awesome stuff with the equally awesome Poki. Any new hooper can learn a series of typical moves in under a year. NOT every new hooper can do this. Brian's a super talented guy. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EweaZ6GDyPU COMMUNITY HOOP GROUP OF THE YEAR The Detroit Hoopers I’m sad that I didn’t promote this to people who understand how much good work the Detroit Hoopers have done in the past few years – and who could’ve voted to nominate them for a “Hoopie.” It’s the bane of Detroit’s existence that its human outflow is greater than its inflow, so no matter what kind of amazing things happen there, they won’t be widely known. That said, Detroit deserves a nod for its contribution to hooping. In 2007, the Detroit Hoopers gave away THREE HUNDRED hoops for World Hoop Day (which was, I believe, the most given away in the world for that year). In 2008, the Detroit Hoopers once again did World Hoop Day proud by working in conjunction with the Black Rock Arts Foundation, the Detroit Dream Project, Motor City Blight Busters and Society to Promote Art & Recreation in the Community (SPARC) to put on a day-long hoop extravaganza for Detroit families. Many of you who have been to Burning Man and seen the temple may not know that in 2008, David Best (designer of said temple) worked with a crew of Detroit volunteers to build a temple IN DETROIT. It’s called “The Temple of the American Dream,” it’s part of a community art park – in a neighborhood that really needs it, and it’s so beautiful that I get choked up thinking about it. World Hoop Day Detroit 2008 took place at The Temple of the American Dream, and all those above-mentioned organizations played a part in funding, promoting and helping out with the event. I came back to Detroit to take part, and we gave away around 100 hoops – with some left over that were going to be donated at a later date. The Detroit Hoopers also treated kids and parents to a DJ and bumpin’ sound system, shared food, convinced the Detroit Fire Department to stop by and hoop – and just generally organized an amazing event. This is in addition to a constantly growing range of year-round hoop events in the Motor City. Various people are teaching classes and performing and sharing hooping as community outreach. And no matter where I revolve on earth, Revolva will always rep-ra-zent for the D. So, yeah – totally biased. I don’t care because the Detroit hoop community deserves a major shout out. A 2008 Revolvie goes to the Detroit Hoopers! Black Rock Art Foundation’s blog (with photos of the temple): http://blackrockarts.blogspot.com/2008/07/detroit-dream-project-world-hoop-day.html World Hoop Day Detroit Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlGN4B-RnwI PERFORMANCE GROUP OF THE YEAR Color Wheel If everyone’s already done something one way, how can we build on what already exists to create that which does not already exist? How can we express creativity in our own, unique way? “Color Wheel” is a troupe that embodies the answer to those questions. They look like a crazy dream that came to life, and they are pushing mega-boundaries in terms of movement, costuming and staging. I applaud them for a refreshing amount of creativity. Let's have more innovation like this in 2009: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nb9djERJ-Tc FIRE HOOPER OF THE YEAR Spiral, Jewels, Shakti I was surprised not to see these names make it through the nomination round for a Hoopie. Multiple fire hoops, mini fire hoops, hot moves! Come on over here and accept your Revolvie, girlfriends. Shakti: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBIGgzjdXaU Jewels: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvM0cF1BCoU&feature=channel_page Spiral: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ViMm5UOsF8 MALE HOOPER OF THE YEAR Tie between two dudes I didn't see on the Hoopie list: Dustin Hubel This kid doesn't get enough credit for how insanely, insanely good he is. He's doing behind the back weaves and hoop moves I haven't ever seen anyone else do. I had the opportunity to perform with him once this fall and also watch him rehearse at the Portland juggling club (before he recently took a hiatus from PDX). He is a master at the mini hoops, and he deserves a standing ovation for his tight technical skills. He also deserves to be picked up by a circus. He also deserves a Revolvie. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyF7tUwonZU&feature=channel_page Poki Well, those who have witnessed the magic of Poki probably don’t know whether to be more enraptured by his stage presence or his rad hoop moves. I first saw him this summer doing a hilarious street show, involving his signature, mini red hoop, the Olympic Trials and a dream about stealing a ring from the Olympic logo. Next, I saw him killing it with his combo of clown aesthetics and masterful object manipulation at Oregon Country Fair. After the Sunday night fire show at OCF, some little kids ran up to where Poki and I were chatting. They said, “You were awesome! You were our favorite! We loved you the most out of anyone!” They were staring lovingly at Poki. When they awoke from their haze of adoration long enough to notice me, they said, “Oh, and you were our second favorite!” I took it in stride. Poki’s one of MY favorites, too. A Revolvie to you, sir. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6TP_CflPdlo ... and some of my own categories. BEST VIDEO THAT SOMEONE MADE FOR ME, BY THE BEST DANCER EVEN WHEN SHE'S NOT HOOPING Dri's "Beat it" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggBIjp1Yru4&feature=channel_page HOOP PHOTO OF THE YEAR A Detroit Firefighter takes a break to celebrate World Hoop Day. http://www.flickr.com/photos/95481325@N00/3195372910/sizes/o/ OUTSTANDING WAY TO ENHANCE THE TRANSCENDENT NATURE OF THE HOOP EXPERIENCE: Sacred G Hooping. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0WVVJSTiiY Good luck Hoopie nominees. Congrats, Revolvie award-ees. Now, I've got to figure out how I can manufacture some trophies created entirely out of respect and devotion.

The story of scars

revolva76 — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 06:17:20 GMT

I love to hear the stories behind people's scars. You know -- the death-defying skateboard bungle that caused a permanent dark spot on someone's thigh. Or the downstairs fall that left a slash on a forehead. Tonight, because I'm moving soon, I was covering up the gouges that have formed in my apartment over the past two years. There are chips and marks here and there, from my futon scraping the wall. A wine stain on the carpet. And the worst offense is that my ceiling features muti-colored ribbons of gaffer's tape shavings -- known only to indoor hoopers. Hoop scars. That's what I've heard them called. I was working toward erasing all of these chips and marks, when I started to consider the moments that caused them: intense living room hooping sessions (in the dark, dancing to my shadow from the kitchen light), sitting on the futon with Michael, grading my students' papers -- on my floor, over a glass of wine that was probably spilled during hoop procrastination. I had to sit down and reminisce, and it hit me that today is *exactly* two years since I arrived in Eugene. To the day. I had come straight from Burning Man, with my little hatchback packed full of everything I own. Before that, I had driven from Detroit to Nevada by myself. I didn't know anyone in Oregon. I was totally shocked to find myself uprooting and starting over -- alone. I had so many friends in Detroit, and constant gigs as Revolva, and I had never lived by myself in my entire life. Even now, it kind of blows my mind that I did this. I remember my first night here, with only an air mattress for furniture, thinking, "What the fu*%?" A few weeks later, I recall trying to go dance at the Tango Center, but instead becoming engulfed by the Eugene Celebration. In my three-inch-high heels, lipstick and tango-y attire, I practically sprinted aboard the Triceratops (art car), and told Emily and Maja from Tribe of Eve and Ananda from Dragon Tribe and Jade from Fire Groove, "I just got here from Detroit. I'm so excited to find my people!" At the time, I thought they must be rolling their eyes. I was fancied-up for tango and probably looked *nothing* like their kind of people. But I just hung out with Emily the other night, and she said she totally remembers that moment. "I took your card home and kept it," she said. "No one ever introduces themselves like that in Eugene." It's interesting that over the past two years, I've performed alongside everyone I met that night. I've also developed intense bonds in other social circles. This is fast-forwarding through a lot of hard work, though. Standing at gatherings with no one to fall back on if I didn't feel like putting myself out there too hard. Spending time in my apartment alone. Gathering phone numbers and having to be the one to call around to see what was going on (not counting on a net, the way I could in Detroit). The first month was the hardest. But it was also the most exciting, the time with the most potential. I let the positive possibilities behind the gigantic question mark of "What's going to happen?" carry me. I actually miss how much energy I had at the beginning. I could write 18 paragraphs about what's happened since. I could also sum it up by saying that it felt like I was bursting through a surface on my exit from the D and my entrance into Eugene ... and since then, it has seemed like I stepped off to the side and just took a 2-year time out. In the past, I've learned a lot by physically moving through the world -- traveling through Asia or Europe, living in downtown Detroit, going places, doing stuff, being more juice-ily alive. My motion has progressively wound down these past two years to the point where, for a while, it feels like "my path" has involved ... sitting on the side of a path, resting. Dropping out of school. Breaking up. Working from home. For some reason, struggling to book gigs. I've just been here, meditating, hooping, spelunking through my thoughts and feelings like an adventurer shining lights into a cave. I'm not going to lie; it has been some ROUGH sh*t! I doubt most people EVER sit with themselves and feel the funk for half as long as my two year soul-searching sentence. I guess painting over these scars, I realized how that act is symbolic of the final stages of healing. It tugs at my heart to think about the experiences that formed the marks in my home -- the people who have been in here with me, the time I've spent with myself. It's disconcerting to shift space. Again. But I've done everything I came here to do (I did need time to contend with certain things), and now I'm ready to move on. Today is an exact book end on moving to Eugene. Time to make some new stories.

Movin' on up

revolva76 — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 04:34:59 GMT

Alright, Eugene. It's that time. I got an apartment on the NE side of Portland, across from a dance studio (where I can continue my progression toward b-girl-dom), above a coffee shop (where I can write), around the corner from a salsa club (where my high heel collection can *finally* come out of its Eugene-based hibernation), and I'm moving. I'll be back for my writing job one night a week, and I'll living up there for the rest of the time. Come visit! P.S. That's a VooDoo Donut in my picture. I'm frightened that I'll be living so close to the "Ol' Dirty Bastard" (peanut butter and oreo). I rarely even eat sugar, but it's soooo goooooood.

1-800-393-5297

revolva76 — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 21:29:03 GMT

Call this number. NOW! After posting a somewhat blah blog yesterday, Caroleeena insisted that I had to ring it up immediately. I've already called it three times for maximum mood enhancement. I can't explain how much I love you, Caroleeena. :)

Survival

revolva76 — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 22:33:13 GMT

Here's something I learned in Oregon: People here are ready for shit to hit the fan. Not all Oregonians are training for 2012, of course, but there are a surprising number of "I will survive" folks in this part of the country. Natural resources? Check. Sustainable farming practices? Check. Talking to each other about what they'll do post-collapse? Check. Mere moments after the power goes out and the air raid sirens go off, a good portion of Eugene will probably be loaded down with supplies and tromping toward some pre-thought-out "this is where I'm going to ride it out" spot in the woods. I definitely know one group of Eugenians who are just that prepared. So I have to use Eugene as a hallmark against which to measure my other home, Detroit. I don't hear people in the Motor City talking about survival the same way I do here. (As a quick aside, Northern Michigan -- a.k.a. "Militia-gan" -- is another story. But it's also like another country, so I'm not going to address some of the militia-weirdo-Oaklahoma-City-bomber kind of things that happen "up north.") Why DON'T people in Detroit discuss strategies for how to make it through an economic/government/infrastructure collapse? I'm performing at World Hoop Day Detroit on August 8, and while considering which Detroit music to use, I've been listening to "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. These particular lyrics jump out at me and pretty much answer the above question: "I've got to formulate a plot before I end up in jail or shot Success is my only motherfucking option, failure's not Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go I cannot grow old in Salem's lot So here I go, it's my shot. Feet fail me not cause this may be the only opportunity that I got..." When I listen to these lyrics, I'm reminded of how "survival" means something entirely different in Detroit. It's something more immediate than "someday." "I cannot grow old in Salem's lot" resonates with my journey away from the D. I can't say anything negative like that without inciting fury from certain people. But the truth is that I love Detroit, too. I'm just realistic about its problems -- which exist alongside its cultural capital and its vibe, pulse, urgency, energy that's unlike anywhere else on earth. I love it, I miss it, I can't wait to go back. But In many ways, living there can be like trying to forge a future in "Salem's lot." Right now. I only experienced *my* life in Detroit, which was privileged compared to other folks' lives. Still, I know how it feels to walk around with all of my animal instincts turned on. To use the eyes in the front, side and back of my head when I walk from Lager House to my apartment at 2 a.m. To comfort my friend after he was robbed at gunpoint. To go out to a parked car that's no longer there. To have my entire wheel bent by a foot-deep pothole, in a road that winds past abandoned, burnt-out houses. And, as I said, I had it comparatively *easy,* even when I lived downtown. When my ex injured himself on the job, one fourth of July, and I took him to Henry Ford Hospital on Grand Boulevard, we had to navigate a surprising number of stretchers full of people who had been shot. On a hot, summer, holiday night, that was "normal," the nurse said. It was a scene out of a war. You know -- "normal." I don't hear people who live in downtown Detroit talking about where they're going to go when America collapses. I think it's because things *already* collapsed for them. Shit *already* hit the fan. And people downtown have *already* been holed up in crumbling structures, trying to rebuild a glorious past out of a sometimes-bleak present. People *already* had to create their own economy and way of life outside of mainstream America's economy and way of life. I don't personally know what I'll do if/when America totally melts. You know - when money is good only for burning to keep warm. Now that I'm out here, I've discovered that I have no practical skills other than "person who entertains farmers and hunters by hula hooping with ring of bent twigs." (Or I've been joking that if 2012 is the key year, I'll still be able to help repopulate the planet. Ha ha.) But these are all things to think about. I do wonder if, tent gear and fishing poles or not, Detroiters have developed a *determination* that is a huge key to living through anything. If so, they just need to take some of these farming and wilderness survival classes. Then they've got this post-collapse thing on lock! Although ideally, we'd all never have to know which parts of our character and knowledge will steer us through impossible times.

Hoop Convergence -- The Movie!

revolva76 — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 07:19:44 GMT

Here's the final edit of the Hoop Convergence mini documentary. Hoop Convergence was the first-ever international hooping conference, held in Carrboro, NC back in April. I taught two workshops ("Street hooping/busking" and "Ignition" -- a class where we fused hoopdance with creative writing.) Anyway, it was a f*$%ing blast, and I learned so much. Thank you to Kevin for filming this footage and Stefan from NY's Groovehoops for editing it all together. Take a peek! (Btw, I'm at :43 teaching busking ... :54 while standing on my head ... and sprinkled throughout in classes, dances, and interviews featuring heartfelt-yet-corny lines such as, "You can pick it up any time and FEEL GOOD!") http://www.vimeo.com/1054818

Engaging a crowd

revolva76 — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 02:48:54 GMT

I have to start this blog with a confession: I watch the show "So You Think You Can Dance." In fact, I don't just watch it -- I love it. I was raised by a mom whose childhood dream was to be able to take dance classes. Unfortunately, my old-fashioned Dutch grandfather absolutely wouldn't allow her to do that. I must have stewed around in her stifled dreams when I was forming because I practically came out of the womb in a sequinned leotard. My mom and I both get emotional about dance movies and shows. She tapes "So You Think You Can Dance," and when I go back to Detroit, we watch entire seasons together. End of confession. Anyhoo, last night, before I went out, I was watching SYTYCD -- the Vegas cuts. A woman named Erika, apparently on the show for the third time, was cut yet again. The judges just "weren't feeling her." That sounds like a flippant thing to say, but it's actually a valid comment. There are a million performers in the world. Maybe a ton of them can nail all the same steps or do all the same fancy moves, so what makes one stand out above another? Engaging energy. Stage presence. Feeling. I am not a full-time, professional, classically trained dancer. Or even close! But I'm someone who has built on the experience I do have to get in front of a crowd many times. Last night, I was really thinking about presence because Erika's cut was one of the last things I saw before going out for the night. And I went out to fire hoop at an outdoor event ... where it was drizzling fine, yet annoying, rain ... and the DJs (in my opinion) were playing less exciting music during the fire show. The crowd was pretty placid. Lots of staring, not a lot of clapping. So when it was my turn to jump into the mix, I tried to rile it up a little bit. Play to people who *were* clapping. Shout stuff out at the audience. That's all for street level. I don't necessarily do those things during a stage show. But I do different stuff during a stage show because if the crowd does not FEEL me, I'm probably not entertaining them. I'm losing their attention. And by the same token, if I block them out, I'm not feeling the crowd! That's doing a disservice to myself and to the audience. They're standing there, ready to be entertained -- and willing to give up their love if it happens. When a performer puts up a wall by focusing *inward,* to the side, to the back, etc., the audience can't give away their appreciation and the performer can't receive it. I have definitely had (and sometimes still have) shows where I felt nervous or introverted, and my energy turned inward. But overall, I try to feel and be felt by the crowd. Here are some things that I've learned over the years (at least for hooping and other "manipulation arts" -- classic dance performance or theater's a bit different): * Make eye contact -- even a little, during moments when you don't need to stare at your object. I can subtract this advice if the number involves sustained spinning or is more about flow. But in general, don't look down at the ground the entire time. Don't do moves/tricks mostly facing the side or mostly facing the back wall. Focus energy on the audience, because they *want* to respond by focusing energy on you. * Build movement. Think about forming a simpler to more complicated movement progression. Or pause a little for effect just before you do something really amazing. The audience's excitement builds in step with your movement, and creating an energetic staircase with your moves makes for a more entertaining show. * Wear a dazzling costume. Watching a show is like having a dream while you're still awake. If it's a vivid dream, it's easy to become engrossed in it. Costuming/makeup is definitely a big part of that. I'm a dork about putting on something fun for a show. It really does add to the overall theatricality of the performance. * Actually interact with the crowd, in whatever way that you can. In SF recently, I did a routine to Herbie Hancock's "Rockit." I came out in an Adidas track suit with a (fake, plastic) gold chain/medallion around my neck. I specifically got that necklace because I wanted to throw it out into the crowd just before I ripped off the breakaway track suit. So someone in SF now has a $2, piece of crap necklace from Hiron's. But it was funny. If I were in the audience, I would have wanted to catch it. And that brings me to the last thing in my ramble: I think about what I would like to see. If I question whether I have enough courage to do something, I think, "If I were on the other side of this situation, watching my performance, what would I think of [fill in the blank idea]." Usually, I realize it will be fun, so I force myself to get over my fear of trying something different. Other times, I chicken out because I decide it's too over the top. But projecting into an audience member's brain is a good litmus test for new ideas. And that's all I gotta say about my own personal crowd engagement. I'll never be on SYTYCD. But judging by my seasons-past tendency to get all teary-eyed about some Mia Michaels routine, or to root for the hip hop dancer who puts his freaking soul into a jazz number, I hope to be "feeling" lots of the contestants who are left.

Possibilities

revolva76 — Fri, 09 May 2008 21:18:43 GMT

In my 8th grade jazz dance solo picture, I'm standing on my left foot, with my right leg kicked straight up, held by my left arm reaching over my head. Once upon a time, I could arch my back and touch my toes to the back of my head. And I can't count how many childhood days I spent in the basement, practicing gymnastics -- or out in the garage, making up dance routines. Anyway, here I am -- in my thirties. Still making up dance routines. Unfortunately, I went through a time in my early and mid-twenties when I thought I was too old to flip around anymore. Turns out that wasn't true. I've actually been able to regain a lot of flexibility, just by stretching and trying things I thought were beyond possibility. And I'm not done exploring what's possible. Yesterday, I went to the National Academy for Artistic Gymnastics (in Springfield), to take their adult gymnastics class. I have to admit that I was slightly intimidated. Even though it was the "adult" class, I was the oldest person in attendance. Also, out of the ten-ish people present, only three of us were "students." The rest of the folks were coaches who taught at the facility, who were using the adult class as practice time. I had to keep telling myself, "If I want to get better, I have to just NOT scare myself into thinking it's too hard." First, we stretched out and went across the floor, doing various things. Some moves, I already knew I could hit (cartwheels, leaps). Some, I didn't know I could do (a handstand, dropping into a front roll; I only had enough confidence to do it with with someone spotting me). Some, I knew would result in a broken neck if I even attempted them now (roundoff into back handsprings). Then, there was open practice time. Lately, I've been trying to regain my front and back walkover. For the front walkover, I can walk over into the bridge, but then I wind up planting *both* feet on the ground, pausing for a second, and THEN standing up. It does not look smooth. At Hoop Convergence, I was able to walk over on one foot a few times, but it's not consistent. Last night, I chose to work on the front walkover. The coach gave me a few tips, and I just did it. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Keeping my legs split, only using one foot as a base, not dropping my arms (which I didn't realize I was doing until the coach pointed it out). Today, my back, the back of my arms and the back of my neck feel like someone put them in a freezer. Stiff. I also feel great. Because I actually CAN do it! The pain is just the first sign of regaining *strength.* I'm not going to jump in on the Olympic Trials or anything. But when I was 25 and working as a full-time advertising copywriter, I would've spit out my coffee if you told me I'd even be able to stand up from a bridge again. I just turned 32, and my front walkover suddenly came back to me. How ridiculous and wonderful. I wonder what else is coming?

I'm not bright.

revolva76 — Thu, 10 Jan 2008 08:14:06 GMT

My life is plumeting into darkness. That's not hyperbole; I can't hang on to enough lightbulbs. This apartment likes to blow them up. It's old, and I guess (like old people), it doesn't enjoy change. If I flip a switch too quickly, the bulb's a gonner. My hoops also enjoy using the lamp as a bowling pin. As the lighbulbs go, one by one, and I run out of new ones, I start negotiating the existing supply. I stop using my closet light and move the bulb to the living room. I stop using three light bulbs above the bathroom sink and move one to the kitchen. And then, I go down to one dim bulb in the bathroom because the porch light dies. I'd like to say it's all because I'm conserving energy. (I was rated "66% hippie" in a quiz today!) Actually, it's also because I'm lazy. Yesterday, I was already at maximum rationing when my experimental vertical to horizontal kickstart move shattered the living room lamp's bulb. (What do they make shades for? Geeze!) I didn't feel like going out in the rain and dark, so I spent the rest of the night navigating by the light of the kitchen. Today, I thought, "Okay, it's not that hard to spend a few bucks on something that will light up my living room." I also needed to do laundry. The laundromat is right next to the store. Perfect. Two errands in one. So, I drove down, put the clothes in the washer, walked to the store, came back and threw my grocery bags in the car. Then, I put my clothes in the dryer, read a little while they were drying, and came home. I opened my apartment door and flipped the light switch. Darkness. I looked down at the tub of laundry and grocery bags at my feet. At that moment, it occurred to me that the contents of the bags (one six pack of beer, organic popcorn, some paper products and juice) would not screw into the void left by a dead bulb. It suddenly hit me that I had done everything BUT the one thing I set out to do. I had to laugh because this is the first time when my "Aha!" moment -- where a lightbulb appears over my head -- actually involved ... a lightbulb. If I'm not using that realization anymore, maybe I can put it in my lamp.