A
few months ago when I made the decision to put my dance company, marked dance
project, on hiatus, I knew I did not want that to mean that my work as a
choreographer and dance educator would come to a halt.
In
the fall of 2013 my friend Andrea Kramer and I began discussing the possibility
of having me as a guest choreographer for Ballet Forte at Wings Conservatory’s
2013-2014 season. Of course I was interested in working with BFWC, having been
a guest teacher in the past, I knew her students were hard workers and had a
strong foundation of technique.
I
remember feeling intimidated as I walked into the studio on audition day
alongside the other guest choreographers, one a New York University graduate,
the other a BFWC alum, and then there was this fierce woman who was an
assistant to an established choreographer. All of them had formal dance
education under their belts, degrees in dance, etc. Meanwhile, I was working on
a degree in women’s and gender studies with minors in journalism and public
relations. However, like much of the past 7 years in my dance career, I did
what felt authentic to me. I did what I’ve become known for; I pushed the
dancers to show me their artistry, and not just their technique. As a person
with a disability, I can’t do all the things that are typical and expected of
men who dance, but being the communicator that I am, I learned how to use my
body, and the bodies of my assistants, and my words to express to the dancers
what I was envisioning in my head.
Initially,
I had no idea what I was going to set on the 6 dancers that I picked from the
audition but I knew I wanted it to be reflective on the past year of my life. I
was already working on a new piece for my company, “Our America” which explored
the social issues around gun violence in America, and knew that I wanted this
piece to be a strong contrast to any of the group work I have ever done before.
I wanted to challenge myself to go deeper, not to be afraid to push boundaries,
and to remain true to the story I was trying to tell through movement.
The
biggest lesson as I embarked on this process was learned through the
interactions I had with the dancers. Many of who were early teens, what I was
asking of them took a great deal of maturity and commitment. I was trying to
tell the story of my life in the past year, how I struggled with perfectionism,
and did not want to show my true self. I had spent years hiding behind a mask,
trying to deal with the lows and blows that came from vulnerability. “The
Unmasking” represents my own journey through self-discovery and awareness. It
was my daring greatly moment, the end result of the courage I had gathered to
remove my own mask, to give up trying to be perfect and allow myself to be
flawed, to be fully human. One of the dancers was struggling with
perfectionism, like myself, she was overextended and the pressure to be perfect
was making her world crumble. She had missed hours of rehearsals, so much so
that I had to threaten to remove her from the piece if she did not fully commit
to the process.
Anyone
that knows me well knows that I am a big softy but I have high standards for
any work project that my name is being attached to, and when the dancer showed
up late again, I had to have a difficult conversation. It was the first time in
my career that I resented the fact that I was not just a choreographer, but
also an educator. It was my job to help this young dancer and do something that
no one else around her seemed to be doing; I pushed her off the pedestal.
Everyone in her life put her on a pedestal, without considering how the height
would cause the fall to be that more detrimental. They were breeding her to
live a life of perfection, something she would surely fail at accomplishing. I
told her that I had to take her out of the piece, that I could not contribute
to supporting the pedestal she was placed on and that I needed her to stop
trying to be perfect.
She
broke down. Crying and pleading with me to let her back into the piece, I held
her. I cried with her. And I made her repeat the following sentence over and
over again, “I am 16. I am human and I am not perfect.” Once she gathered her
breath, I asked her to teach her role to the other dancers and to remain a part
of the creative process as an understudy. Some might think that decision was
cruel of me, but I needed her to understand that life has a way of humbling us,
and that if we respond with humility to our circumstances; there could be a chance
of redemption. She taught her section with such grace and clarity, she cared
enough about the piece to make sure she taught her peers thoroughly. I had
every dancer audition for her role with her watching, and while they were all
talented, it was clear to me that she needed to play this role more than I
needed her to. I asked the rest of the cast if they felt she should be given
another chance, since after all, they were the ones being most affected by her
missed rehearsal time. Each and every one of them said yes, I turned to her and
said she was given one more chance.
When
I began choreographing “The Unmasking”—the majority of the work was
choreographed in 2 weekends, 4 rehearsals, approximately 18 hours. During the
time that I began setting the work, I was overextended, the truth is, I was
traveling for work, writing papers for classes, working (2) part time jobs, and
working with my dance company, I was also setting work as an alumni
choreographer for my high school. Knowing I needed to slow down, we didn’t have
additional rehearsals until a month later. This is not common for me, to begin
work and not fully finish it and then to have so much time in between. But I
was practicing the lesson I had been trying to teach the dancer; I said to
myself, “I am 22. I am human and I am not perfect.”
As
the dancers and I returned to the studio to finish the work and clean the
piece, I saw the entire piece with a renewed perspective and began changing the
choreography and the music. Two days before the premiere, we had our final
cleaning rehearsal and by the end of the two hours, we had boiled down the past
year of my life into 9 minutes. On Wednesday, we premiered "The Unmasking" and the audience reactions assured me that the entire process I went through to create the piece was worth it. All of the dancers did exactly what I asked of them, they performed and spilled their souls on that stage. I lost my breath as I saw it for the first time in full costume and on stage, with the lights.
The
most intimate piece I have ever choreographed, “The Unmasking” and the process
to create it will always hold a special place in my heart. Special thanks to Kevin Hurtado, my friend and assistant, who without, creating this piece would have been nearly impossible. Taking our masks off
can be difficult but not nearly as difficult as trying to be perfect.
Perfectionism is something we strive for but never something we attain.
Remember that you are human and innately imperfect. Put your mask down, show us
your flaws and all and cry if you have to.
Writer's Note:
As a writer, I love for the stories I write and the material I create to be shared and discussed-- however, I ask that you respect my intellectual property and that you attribute my writing if you decide to share it on any other platform:
Written by Mark Travis Rivera | www.MarkTravisRivera.com.
Thank you in advance.
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