The body work I facilitate invites the participants to look and treat the body as material, addressing its organic functions and spiritual potential as well as its cultural implications. The nature of the approach is eclectic and sources from ‘chi’ cultivation techniques such as Qi Gong and Pranayama (breathing techniques), spine and limbs patterns explorations (body connectivity, proprioceptive systems), hands-on work (experimental body-alchemy teaching from Sara Shelton Mann) and elements of improvisation to transmute through different states. I use journeys and extended duration (either literal trance exercises drawn from dynamic meditation practices or shamanic journeys using visualization and movement) to flirt with the notion of ritual and personal/collective transformation, relying on trance and exertion, boredom and contemplation as tactics. The goal is to come to an understanding or to a state of questioning of the body’s borders, acknowledging it as multiple and idiosyncratic: codified, yet desirous of ecstasy and play, and seeking grounding and tenderness.
This laboratory suits anybody who is interested in the body as a site of knowledge, as a forest of symbols or simply as a phenomenon to be felt, visually, kinesthetically and verbally. A certain stamina is required, but no specific skill, therefore is open to any moving body.
fish lizard leopard man. tracking the traces of your lineage
facilitated by Maria F. Scaroni & Peter Pleyer
This is a laboratory, an opportunity to look back into one’s personal history to find the stepping stones of one’s movement practice. We asked ourselves: how did we get here? And then a cascade of questions followed… Who are my ancestors and my mentors? To which strand of post-modern movement practice do I feel affiliated? What am I implicitly or intentionally perpetuating with my dance practice? We carry ghosts, and we reiterate, even mould, other dance histories. Some of the work is about retracing the roots linearly, while some of the tracking procedures will be non-linear and intuitive, aiming to punctuate personal obsessions or recurrent themes. The curiosity is to be in a place of practice and of research, to rewrite with awareness our personal archive, which is private and peculiar, but relates to a wider texture of predecessors and discourses. This simultaneous tracing and weaving is to offers us a place of belonging and gives our current concerns a collective purpose. We are already dancing our lineage, often unconsciously, and want to be able to detect the cues and pin point the traces. We are the present and move in it, and bridge the past and future, perpetually evolving and regressing. We do not have a devised methodology, and are interested in finding one together, attempting a coexistence of approaches and staying present in an open conversation about procedures.
Piles, a whole body made of many, a choir, a collective, maybe an ever-shifting architecture, a promiscuity, an assemblage. I am interested in researching forms of togetherness, close-proximity, co-dependence, taking the image and the nature of ‘foam’ as inspiration. How close can we be, and how do we become then? Is it thinkable and practicable, a body with soft borders?
My fascination is with hybridized forms, and how form is content. Form as in shapes, containers, formations, like a nuclear family or a protest, like crystal clusters or residual material, maybe towns, maybe a random accumulation of homes and dirt around a possible center, a gravitational point always too susceptible, to temperature, moods, time. Form as in information, networks, whispers, gossips or titles. I would like us to gather associations or the variation on the idea of form to build together a metamorphic script of sort, sourcing from research on states, behaviors, dance lineage, observation the environment and the news and last but not least movement techniques.
This extended and thickened body, could become a site for devouring and digesting what we see and live, and I ask myself if we can use it as a sort of oracular object.
Photo Credits: Micheal Rowsome