We are exactly four weeks away from opening night, and time flows differently now. The days cascade into one another as dances are polished, videos completed, costumes defined, programs drafted, and volunteers recruited. Loose ends come closer together, and as Eleanor Roosevelt said, “You must do the thing you think you cannot do”.
Get your tickets at www.thelongcenter.org
Dancers: Angie Johnson, Sheila Cruz, Lisa del Rosario, and Emily Pry
In eight weeks exactly, with my heart pounding in terror, I will wonder WHY I put myself through this, yet again. As I prepare in the dressing room and warm up backstage, I will inevitably fantasize about grabbing my things, furtively getting into the car, and driving far, far away. (Nobody will notice, I reason, until it is too late.) I will even go so far as to envision myself making my way to a different city, San Antonio perhaps, checking into a hotel, and staying there until all memories of this show have disappeared into the ether of time.
I will, however, not escape. I will breathe, summon all my physical, emotional, and spiritual faculties, and remember WHY I am here. I will close my eyes, allow gratitude to wash over me, and open my heart to those who have come to share what I have to offer. I will remember the survivors to whom this performance is dedicated, and as I hold their strength and courage close, I will take my starting place onstage.
The box office is set up! You can buy tickets to The Materiality of Impermanence for March 23-25, 2012 by clicking HERE.
As 2012 peeks over the horizon, I hope for a year of abundance, balance, simplicity, and bliss. I reflect, with gratitude, upon the profusion of friends and family who sustain me, and I await with excitement the March performances of The Materiality of Impermanence. It is amazing to me that this dance has become a reality!
As the new year unfolds, I will gather strength in order to grapple with the final choreographic choices, transitions, and technical issues. I look forward to polishing the work with the dancers, watching the scenic and costume elements coalesce, and exploring more deeply the multiple layers of meaning within this piece.
The new year also brings about an anniversary: it has been two years since my breast cancer diagnosis. The date ushers in conflicting emotions: a sense of accomplishment for all that I have trudged through, but also a sense of terrible loss. There is no doubt, however, that the creation of The Materiality of Impermanence has been essential to my healing–physical, emotional, and most importantly, spiritual.
Lisa del Rosario, Angela Johnson, and Sheila Cruz
Dancer: Lisa del Rosario
What is a dance without the dancers? They embody what I attempt to say, and give color and meaning to an empty stage.
Their intelligence and passion strike a deep chord within me, and as they move, I behold my own life force. It is magnificent.
At a recent work-in-progress showing of The Materiality of Impermanence, the dancers and I had the opportunity to perform what we have been rehearsing since July. Although difficult to go public with such personal work, the experience was gratifying and useful.
A few days later, I met with two trusted friends to talk about their impressions. I now muse upon their words, and am, as always, blown away by the difficulty of the choreographic process. They identified issues I had surreptitiously and conveniently swept under the rug, issues that I must now confront, ponder, and rectify. I must grapple with and solve uncomfortable music choices, cliché movement vocabulary, forced transitions, and (last, but not least!) unclear meaning. There is much to do.
In the past I have choreographed pieces under the pressure of looming deadlines, putting them together with just enough time for dancers to learn the sequences before stepping onstage. This time is purposely different. The Materiality of Impermanence has given me the opportunity to immerse myself fully and repeatedly within layers of music, movement, and meaning. The luxury of time is allowing me to revisit the initial impulses that gave rise to this project, and to explore them in all their complexity. Because of the nature of this particular work, it is a painful and challenging process, that nobody—not even the dancers—can share with me.
The creation of The Materiality of Impermanence is an act in honor of myself. As such, I strive to peel away the unnecessary and the trivial, leaving only a vulnerable, yet hopefully, luminous authenticity. It is an artistically and spiritually intimidating task, and in the end, I may not achieve it to my satisfaction. Creation (and life) is a very lonely journey.
Join the Dancing Divas on Sunday, November 13th in downtown Austin to run, walk, or crawl the untimed Race for the Cure 5K. Go to Dancing Divas and click on “Join Dancing Divas”. It costs $30 for adults and $20 for kids. If you can’t make it you can still donate (any amount) at the link. If you don’t have money, get someone to sponsor you!
We are fortunate to live in a time when we have a plethora of information available on breast cancer preventive measures, treatment options, studies, and clinical trials. This focus on the pathology and epidemiology of the disease is an explicit expression of a modern society trying hard to manage a devastating cancer that affects one in eight women. We arm ourselves with research and facts, hoping to someday find a cure for this terrible disease. We do this wholeheartedly, and we do it well.
What we do not do so well, however, is to make space for the implicit expression of breast cancer. The knowledge of this experience is comprised of much more than facts and studies: it is about accessing the language of the body, the senses, the spirit, and the deep primal need for connection and understanding. The Materiality of Impermanence seeks to address this imbalance. It is my belief that through performance and art, integration and healing becomes possible.
A duet between a man and a woman: she takes a few steps towards him; he responds by stepping back, hesitant. She tries again, coming closer; he once more moves away, remaining distant and unwilling. A straightforward choreographic element that embodies my experience with men at the time of my diagnosis and treatment.
I found out a few days ago that this phenomenon is not entirely unusual. It even has an (unofficial) name: the cancer kiss-off. Apparently researchers have found that a woman is six times more likely to be separated or divorced shortly after a diagnosis of cancer or multiple sclerosis than a man diagnosed with the same diseases. The gender disparity is striking.
After my breast cancer diagnosis, the few men in my life found ways to wash their hands of having to worry about me, take care of me, or even call. This does not make me angry or sad anymore; I have accepted that not everyone is able to step up when needed. I can’t help but think, however, that if they had been the ones with cancer–I would not have left their sides (at least at that moment), regardless of what was going on in the relationship.
Why are there no men in this dance? The duet has ended up on a heap of discarded choreography, and a saying in Spanish floats about in my head: “Brillan por su ausencia“. The men stand out–not because of their magnificent deeds–but because they are simply not there. Their most remarkable characteristic is their non-presence. Therefore, I have decided that no men shall perform in The Materiality of Impermanence. Their absence speaks louder than one thousand duets.
Ever try to take a nap after chemo while your six-year old walks on your bed? Check out “Mijo” at http://www.breastfestfilmfest.com/shortscontest.shtml and vote for the best short film in the Toronto Breast Fest Film Fest.
I am the (sometimes reluctant) subject of this vignette, directed by Chithra Jeyaram, part of a feature length film about my experience after a breast cancer diagnosis, as a woman, mother, and dancer.
The deadline is midnight, September 16th. Do your civic duty and VOTE! (Three votes per e-mail address!)
