Dear all,
As we bask in the foggy chill of summer in San Francisco, thoughts turn to making art in the warm evenings of autumn! It's time to save the dates for Fall Fieldwork. It's another mixed discipline group for performing artists of all types who make original work.
What: Fall 2008 Mixed Discipline Fieldwork Where: CounterPULSE, 1310 Mission St. @ 9th in San Francisco When: Monday evenings, 6:30-9 pm, September 8 - November 10, 2008 Facilitator: Jennifer Gwirtz
Showing: Monday evening, November 17
Cost: $150 or $130 before August 1.
Additional $5 discount for past participants or CounterPULSE members.
Contact Jen or John at (415) 387-4812 or info@thefieldsf.org.
For more information, http://thefieldsf.org/
The Field, founded in New York in 1986, is an artist support and service organization that provides workshops, performances, and other programs for independent performing artists in twelve cities across the country. The underlying foundation of The Field is a commitment to serve all artists, from those making their first work, to those who are experienced, supported and recognized, as well as artists from diverse cultural backgrounds and aesthetic points of view. To this end, The Field does not engage in any curatorial activity, maintaining an open, non-exclusive forum which any artist can join.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
An Update On Where We Are
They're right. It goes by incredibly fast.
Rain is nearly 2 now. She's 22 months old, talking copiously and well enough to make people look down in surprise. She's an amazing kid. The other day she told me that the prairie dogs at the zoo were "doing yoga."
Unlike many parents and kids, we've never been good travelers. Rain's always done everything on her own terms, including beating out all of her mom's nine fibroids for blood supply en utero, being born surgically after deciding not to turn. This was after two inversions, countless laps and somersaults in the pool, yoga positions (one of which is featured in close view on one of the In Residency projects), and once she was born, boycotting mommy's attempts at postnatal yoga when she was five months old. I gave up taking us anywhere for a while. She hated the car. She hated the sling until she could hold herself up and participate. By 17 months we were going places and doing things, but usually within limits. We keep it slow to better stop when it's time to absorb what she's experiencing. She's going to be a heck of a young woman. Here, truly, is a person who will change her world.
But that means that I can no longer get across the city to CounterPULSE regularly to rehearse since I'm already working at The Body Gallery twice a week and seem to find myself swamped with laundry and cooking whenever I'm not working or sleeping. Rain is a kid who will not sit and play quietly while mommy makes dances and it's not fair to force her into that pigeonhole. I know that there are plenty of performer parent-kid relationships that do well in the studio, but ours never has. A friend of mine whose single mother was a dancer related to me recently that she later resented the many afternoons in the studio and evenings at painfully long tech rehearsals. Neither John or I wanted that for Rain.
I still have about four hours of lush video to log and edit beyond the pieces I made in the summer before Rain was born. I also have ideas for more. It's clear to me that at the point when our living space has a separate working area, or when Rain goes to preschool, whichever comes first, I'll be able to return to this kind of work.
The Field is better than ever, small and sleek, like an otter. We hold three to four workshops a year, both in the East Bay (Berkeley or Oakland, facilitated by Mary Armentrout) and in San Francisco. They've been great groups. Facilitating for these terrific people has kept my art alive. Our next San Francisco workgroup will start September 8, 2008. See the website for details (not up yet but will be soon!).
A word about John.
In 2007 he earned his paralegal certification with the hopes that he can earn enough to push our income into the place it has to be so that we can move into a larger living space. He's still working hard at his job, although occasionally he bursts out with a fantastic written piece like the radio show "The Bunny At The Bottom of the Bowl," heard on Pirate Cat Radio a while back. He's currently the back end guy for The Field, keeping us organized financially and making sure that we get our contracts signed on time. I don't quite know what I'd do without him reminding me to get our publicity out. We've had full and nearly-full workshops because of him.
Meanwhile, it will probably take him some time to return to the stage. I'm sure he'll get there someday and if I can produce a show in the next few years, he'll most likely have a piece in it, whether or not he's onstage.
That said, Rain is now enjoying a late bath with daddy by the tub. It's time for me to log off and assume "places" for our daily bedtime routine. Countdown, 5, 4, 3, 2...
Rain is nearly 2 now. She's 22 months old, talking copiously and well enough to make people look down in surprise. She's an amazing kid. The other day she told me that the prairie dogs at the zoo were "doing yoga."
Unlike many parents and kids, we've never been good travelers. Rain's always done everything on her own terms, including beating out all of her mom's nine fibroids for blood supply en utero, being born surgically after deciding not to turn. This was after two inversions, countless laps and somersaults in the pool, yoga positions (one of which is featured in close view on one of the In Residency projects), and once she was born, boycotting mommy's attempts at postnatal yoga when she was five months old. I gave up taking us anywhere for a while. She hated the car. She hated the sling until she could hold herself up and participate. By 17 months we were going places and doing things, but usually within limits. We keep it slow to better stop when it's time to absorb what she's experiencing. She's going to be a heck of a young woman. Here, truly, is a person who will change her world.
But that means that I can no longer get across the city to CounterPULSE regularly to rehearse since I'm already working at The Body Gallery twice a week and seem to find myself swamped with laundry and cooking whenever I'm not working or sleeping. Rain is a kid who will not sit and play quietly while mommy makes dances and it's not fair to force her into that pigeonhole. I know that there are plenty of performer parent-kid relationships that do well in the studio, but ours never has. A friend of mine whose single mother was a dancer related to me recently that she later resented the many afternoons in the studio and evenings at painfully long tech rehearsals. Neither John or I wanted that for Rain.
I still have about four hours of lush video to log and edit beyond the pieces I made in the summer before Rain was born. I also have ideas for more. It's clear to me that at the point when our living space has a separate working area, or when Rain goes to preschool, whichever comes first, I'll be able to return to this kind of work.
The Field is better than ever, small and sleek, like an otter. We hold three to four workshops a year, both in the East Bay (Berkeley or Oakland, facilitated by Mary Armentrout) and in San Francisco. They've been great groups. Facilitating for these terrific people has kept my art alive. Our next San Francisco workgroup will start September 8, 2008. See the website for details (not up yet but will be soon!).
A word about John.
In 2007 he earned his paralegal certification with the hopes that he can earn enough to push our income into the place it has to be so that we can move into a larger living space. He's still working hard at his job, although occasionally he bursts out with a fantastic written piece like the radio show "The Bunny At The Bottom of the Bowl," heard on Pirate Cat Radio a while back. He's currently the back end guy for The Field, keeping us organized financially and making sure that we get our contracts signed on time. I don't quite know what I'd do without him reminding me to get our publicity out. We've had full and nearly-full workshops because of him.
Meanwhile, it will probably take him some time to return to the stage. I'm sure he'll get there someday and if I can produce a show in the next few years, he'll most likely have a piece in it, whether or not he's onstage.
That said, Rain is now enjoying a late bath with daddy by the tub. It's time for me to log off and assume "places" for our daily bedtime routine. Countdown, 5, 4, 3, 2...
Friday, January 11, 2008
Strange foods that our child likes
From the least to the most peculiar...
Meat - all kinds. She loves beef, lamb, pork, and especially chicken. While most kids eat their spaghetti with a token bit of meat sauce, she goes the other way - she leaves a big pile of rice or rice pasta and eats tons of meat. It's occurred to me that since we're dairy free that she's getting her fats from animal sources. Weston A. Price would be proud.
Egg yolk - possibly her favorite food.
Dijon mustard - she's definitely a salt craver, but I also think that she likes the bite.
and here's the reason why I wrote this blog...
SAUERKRAUT.
Yes. Our child wants sauerkraut. We're trying to monitor her intake. I mean, it is cabbage and we're concerned about her being too gassy. But she keeps on eating it and signing for more.
Go figure.
Meat - all kinds. She loves beef, lamb, pork, and especially chicken. While most kids eat their spaghetti with a token bit of meat sauce, she goes the other way - she leaves a big pile of rice or rice pasta and eats tons of meat. It's occurred to me that since we're dairy free that she's getting her fats from animal sources. Weston A. Price would be proud.
Egg yolk - possibly her favorite food.
Dijon mustard - she's definitely a salt craver, but I also think that she likes the bite.
and here's the reason why I wrote this blog...
SAUERKRAUT.
Yes. Our child wants sauerkraut. We're trying to monitor her intake. I mean, it is cabbage and we're concerned about her being too gassy. But she keeps on eating it and signing for more.
Go figure.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Coconut milk kefir!
Hey! I mixed up a batch of lovely cultured coconut milk the other day and it turned creamy and tangy and is already too rich to eat more than a few spoonfuls. The baby loves it, which is good since it's so nicely fattening and nutritious. It also makes a great creamy topping for muffins or fruit. Yum!
Anyway, it works. :)
Anyway, it works. :)
Friday, June 15, 2007
Observations in the Third Person
There is something about talking to a baby that makes me refer to myself in the third person. Like Bob Dole. Motherhood somehow removes me from this person who now takes care of this small person, and inserts me into this invisible self who sits on the sidelines and, like Howard Cosell (well, not really) gives everyone a blow-by-blow of goings-on.
"Mommy's here."
"Mommy can pick you up in a minute."
"Mommy's right up there in the front seat."
"Mommy's ready to play"
and so on...
This has the tingle of something interesting...about parenting and identity, or maybe about being, somehow. More thoughts on this later...
"Mommy's here."
"Mommy can pick you up in a minute."
"Mommy's right up there in the front seat."
"Mommy's ready to play"
and so on...
This has the tingle of something interesting...about parenting and identity, or maybe about being, somehow. More thoughts on this later...
Thursday, June 14, 2007
News From Mommyland
Our friend, Minkgirl, has posted a lovely essay on being vs. doing. (http://minkgirlmuses.blogspot.com/) I admit to being addicted to doing, although there's a place in my past where I wasn't, and having our small one has brought me back there somewhat. I think that being around lots of performing mommies and also older folks who are still getting out on stage and making work has really changed my definitions of and feelings about dance and theater. It's not what you do, it's who you are and how you live. Like having a yoga practice is different than "doing" yoga, being a performer, to me, has become more about what I observe and how I react to it. There's also a practice that I have to maintain so that my body doesn't get injured when I'm ready to get back into gear and show work, and a business side that has to be attended to, but that's really just the surface of a much deeper thing.
When I was in graduate school, I had a professor named Paul Kos who was a visual artist. He seemed like the proverbial sculpture dude, so I was always surprised at how deep his thoughts ran on all kinds of subjects. He used to ask his students if they were "in art shape." That would almost always bring up a discussion about what it meant to be ready to make work, or ready to show work, or ready to perform. Then there was the whole topic of whether an artist is ready, financially, to devote their time to their ideas. To me, being "in art shape" has come to mean being mentally prepared to accept all possible work that pops into my head, to find what Paul also called "happy accidents" and make them into art. For me, art has always been more about the ideas and the dialogues that I have with myself and other people. There's a rightness to that, as well, that lets me be with our baby and feel secure in knowing that being and artist and having a baby are not two separate things, necessarily.
When I was in graduate school, I had a professor named Paul Kos who was a visual artist. He seemed like the proverbial sculpture dude, so I was always surprised at how deep his thoughts ran on all kinds of subjects. He used to ask his students if they were "in art shape." That would almost always bring up a discussion about what it meant to be ready to make work, or ready to show work, or ready to perform. Then there was the whole topic of whether an artist is ready, financially, to devote their time to their ideas. To me, being "in art shape" has come to mean being mentally prepared to accept all possible work that pops into my head, to find what Paul also called "happy accidents" and make them into art. For me, art has always been more about the ideas and the dialogues that I have with myself and other people. There's a rightness to that, as well, that lets me be with our baby and feel secure in knowing that being and artist and having a baby are not two separate things, necessarily.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
New photos
We're due to have our baby on August 30. It's a little more certain than most due dates, because she's been stuck in a footling breech position since at least the 27 week point and is undeliverable as far as any U.S. practitioner is concerned. So we're going in for our so-called "elective" caesarean. (It's far from being "elected," more like "no other option being given.") Luckily, our OB is great, we have a terrific doula and get along with most of the RNs in the practice. I'll be getting to know the anesthesiologist on Tuesday before the big day, hoping to build the same kind of trusting birth team that we had when we were planning for a normal birth.
Photos:
Us reflected in the doorway of the chiropractor's office in Petaluma. It was a last-ditch effort to convince the baby to turn. Unfortunately, I think she's got her cord around her neck. When we tried an external version, she decelerated. Her placenta is also in an unusual place, probably due to fibroids.
John drinking coffee at a lunch place in downtown Petaluma.
A nice picture of John.
New Video Work
I did a RAW residency in June at Shotwell Studios during the 7th month of my pregnancy. The project's name is "The Residency Project: Being Lived In." The idea is that pregnancy is sort of like being a site specific art project that goes on for 9 months. I came up with a bunch of video poems - short video pieces all under 3 minutes - using footage from movement research on video from my rehearsal periods. Here's some stills. The names of the pieces are "Hand Study: Emerging," "Torso Study #1," and "My Feet Are So Far Away."
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