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Clymene Baugher & Prentice Whitlow perform “Treading” @BryantParkNYC 9/22/2001 (taken with Instagram) from backstage.
The other day we performed in Bryant Park Fall Festival, it was packed. What an immaculate view. Reaching up towards the clouds, into the open air, to New York City skyscrapers; it wasn’t hard to physically transcend through space. It was also my first time performing Monte’s “Treading.”
“Treading” was choreographed by Elisa Monte in 1979, was originally commissioned by Martha Graham, and subsequently commissioned by Alvin Ailey. It is a mainstay in both Elisa Monte Dance and Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater repertory. It is comprised of a male solo, followed by a female solo, ending with an intricate and difficult duet. Many prominant and notable dancers have performed it, from Elisa Monte and David Brown to Elizabeth Roxas and Matthew Rushing. It is a great honor to have received the role and be studying under Monte’s tutelage.
At the Bryant Park performance, she found me back stage and said, “good start.” I appreciated this because I knew it was the truth. I had gotten through it, I did well, and it was exactly as she said: a sound start. It will take time to hone the skills necessary to perform the piece at the caliber I would like. I was extremely nervous, it is difficult to take ownership of a work that has such a powerful history. It can be a bit overwhelming. Ultimately, I think I wondered if I was deserving of the role. I’d like to think this opportunity has been given to me because I am both physically and emotionally capable of the undertaking; yet, there is an additional threat of failure because so many wonderful dancers have come before me. This fear is not as pronounced when performing new works. How will I integrate the role? I must perform it as designed by Monte but also bring myself to the piece. It is a journey that I feel privileged to make.
I am discovering why I am so drawn to Monte’s work; there is Zen in what she does, but her work is also extremely demanding (physically, intellectually, and emotionally). I’m not sure I ever felt physically alive before. I feel I have been reborn from the mud, a new Eve, and I have a lot to learn. There are many awakenings, and a connection to your core and a parallel connection to something deep within are simultaneously necessary. It involves an abstract paradox of less “dancing” and yet the dancing is stronger and more deeply felt in every sense.
We also toured Virginia, and performed at a lovely intimate theatre in Hampton. Embracing this new feeling of feeling most alive, intoxicated but not numb, I also allowed my adrenaline and anxiety to overpower me. I lost the nothing. There was improvement in my every performance, there was growth, and that is worth celebrating, but I was not satisfied. I felt that what I gave was honest and authentic but it was not what I hope to achieve. The review was glowing, but I’m searching for a deeper more truthful way of moving.
I’m excited to be teaching for the next few weeks, as I have a lot of Monte teachings and corrections in my head. I’m hoping they’ll help me as I attempt to enlighten young dancers. I also hope that I remember the therapist in me, that knows steady growth and awareness are in fact things of which to be proud.
Mary Clymene in the Elisa Monte dance company (Taken with instagram)
I feel like my head has been hammered over the last year with packaged bs. I feel like so much out their is tailor-made for the majority, so it was refreshing to see the Elisa Monte dance company perform tonight in Bryant Park. Definitely inspiring. Most people don’t say as much with their entire bodies as the company of Elisa Monte are able to convey with one expression or gesture. Art is wrapped in their every movement. I’m in love…and I won’t forget it.
And now I’m even more focused, even more resolved to make My Midnight Heart everything I dream it to be.
So thank you.
Top: Photo that ran in The New York Times (Elisa Monte Dance, 30th Anniversary Season, March 2011) Bottom: Photo taken with iPhone
My first time performing at The Joyce was not all darkness and silver linings, there were many positive experiences. It is all too often that we forfeit the good for the bad, sensationalizing our trials. While I believe our past must be fully explored, I also believe we must emotionally take responsibility for our happiness and actively pursue a healthy and meaningful future.
I created and solidified friendships and bonds on that stage that will most likely never be broken. It was the fulfillment of a long-standing dream. Despite the story, a dream, my dream, was actualized. I received my first reviews in New York and a large photo of me dancing was printed in The New York Times. I was mesmerized as I walked down the avenue towards the theater seeing the company name in big lights, seeing the company I was a member of on the marquis. It was Elisa Monte Dance’s 30th Anniversary Season. One of the performances was filmed and now sits in the New York Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center. We were a significant part of history.
It marked the beginning of my career as a professional dancer. I had been a professional dancer for more than a decade, but to me, this was a marker of truly “making it.” To me, it was the making of a seasoned professional, an accomplished dancer of note, one worthy of advanced training and performance. I was on my way.
I’ve put off writing about The Joyce, perhaps in my mind it would be a vast undertaking. Performing at The Joyce Theater for the first time was one of the most significant moments in my development as a dancer and in my life. And in true “Clymene” fashion, it was not without turmoil.
The company had been rehearsing for four weeks, and had prepared two different evening length productions for the NYC Season. It being Elisa Monte Dance’s 30th Anniversary Season, the programs were intense. I was in every piece except for one. I can still remember my bare feet touching the marly of the stage floor, looking out into the empty house. I have seen many a performance at the historic Joyce, all the greats. From the audience, as a small impressionable dancer, I yearned to be a part of the modern dance world; I had fallen in love. So when I found myself, many years later, surrounded by the expansive freedom of the theater my heart ached with meaning, worth, importance, and achievement.
However, as a family we had all been sick and it was my turn. By the end of tech and dress rehearsal I was officially with a sinus infection and flu virus. My family had flown up from Florida and yet I hardly saw them but for five minutes after the first two performances. I spent several warm-ups before the show on the bathroom floor of the dressing room contemplating the emergency room and Intermission draped across the counter under the mirror lights. In all honesty, I’m not sure how I persevered, only that there was not a force strong or compelling enough to have kept me off that stage. At the time, I was immensely upset, feeling that my Joyce experience was being robbed from me, and I was saddened for a few weeks after it was all over.
Now, I feel it was a gift. I have never felt stronger than when I pushed past my personal boundaries that week. I was most fiercely aware of my body, mind, emotions, and spirit. I also believe I may have danced better. I had no ability to be too anxious, or worked up. I could be nothing but grounded, and I could feel the air around me. I was so delirious that I was no longer on a stage, but within the universe, moving through time and space and in my greatest capacity. Sometimes now I try to find that feeling, as I finally realized what Elisa had been teaching me. She had been wanting me to find the truth, to be real, to move. In that, there is no trying, no dancing, no superficiality; one must simply do. And yet, to achieve that end, one must learn to not do. I did not have the ability to get caught up within myself, or others, or in anything other than the movement in its most barren form, in its deepest purpose. To be bare, to be nothing, is to truly be.
I believe it was a step along a path, on my search, on my quest to become a great dancer. I may not have fully realized this new approach to my movement and work if I had not been faced with adversity.
That being said, I will soon write about the many triumphs the company and I experienced throughout our run at The Joyce and what we have been involved in since.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Butterflies and bees
Dance albeit sting through lost voids
Pleasantly forget
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I’ve left out so much. The farther I move from survival to actually being able to enjoy my success, the better ability I have to reflect on all that I have endured. Pain, looked back on from ahead, is wrought with greater understanding. I’ll write a memoir one day, but there is much more to be done before that.
Though I have kept a journal, it has been hard to formulate cohesive sentences, that would make sense here. The last seven months have been a dream. But the universe gives and takes, and the dream sequence can also be laced with peril. So as I attempt to catch up, I’ll start with my first European Tour.
European Tour January 2011: Elisa Monte Dance, Luxembourg & Italy
Air France to Paris, Luxair to Luxembourg, van to the town Esch-sur-Alzette.
Upon arrival, we discovered that our luggage had been lost; therefore, our costumes had been lost as well. The situation was quickly remedied.
We were unaware that we would be treated as celebrities in Luxembourg, ushered to four course French gourmet dinners, catered lunches, and bottomless champagne.
We knew that we were to perform in the newly restored Theatre Municipal; however, we were not aware that we were to be the first to perform in the theater. We were the opening night Gala guests. The theater, being the second largest in all of Luxembourg, housed approximately 600 seats. We sold out all performances. The Royal Family of Luxembourg, including the Duke and Duchess of Luxembourg were in attendance, as well as the Mayor, the Minister of Culture, and the American Ambassador, to name a few. They were impressed and gracious.
Some of us found the time to scope the local pubs, where German dance music and free drinks were a given. I became fond of speaking in French and eating European Coco Pops (aka Cocoa Krispies), as they are made with REAL chocolate. I even stole some from the breakfast buffet to bring home with me, in pure American style.
Lufthansa to Munich. Due to our previous adventure trying to make our connection in Paris, and lost baggage, we were escorted immediately off the plane and shuttled privately to our next flight. This afforded me the opportunity to taste a snowflake in Germany, a country I have not visited since my birth. We arrived in Venice with no problem. Van from Venezia to Mestre.
In Italy, we performed on a 3% raked stage, a challenge to say the least. Regardless, the show was a success, as evidenced by the kind audience members who waited at the stage door for our autographs.
This tour cemented lifelong relationships with the other dancers in the company, and gave the gift of a treasure chest of golden memories much too private to mention here.
KLM to Amsterdam, where I discovered my love of Stroopwafels. KLM to JFK.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
I did it! I really really did it! I was offered a permanent company member position with Elisa Monte Dance. EMD is celebrating their 30th Anniversary Season this year and I will be a part of that history. I have followed EMD since I was in college and am now a member of the company. I will perform at The Joyce Theater in New York, NY and tour internationally. I will be paid to rehearse, create, perform, and be applauded. I still have not fully comprehended the magnitude of this achievement. I have attained my dream. My dream has come true and the future seems exciting and brilliant.
I am a professional modern dancer.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
It has been a little over a year since I last wrote. I wish I had maintained this blog throughout that time, for it was the darkest. I was so lost in the shadows that my only choice was to survive. The darkness consumed me and I am only now able to reflect in hindsight. The journey continues, as it will throughout my life, but I would like to share what I have been through so that I may continue to move forward and into the present.
It was not too long after I last wrote that I was admitted to the hospital for a week and severely sick for a month. It was a difficult recovery and so early on in my pursuit.
In one year’s time, I have moved thrice, of which all of my living situations have been difficult in some form or another. In a sense, I have felt homeless, for almost all of my possessions are still in storage. I have a few books, my cat, my computer, and a fourth of my clothes. I have even spent the last three months sleeping upon a mattress on the floor.
Money has been an issue from day one and it is not a stretch to say there were times when my most basic needs were not met. I could not find a counseling job that allowed me the flexibility required to be a professional dancer, so I chose to put my career as a therapist on hold. To make ends meet, I had to get a job as a waiter. Being that I had spent the previous six years teaching dance at a performing arts high school, as a mental health counseling graduate student, and subsequently as a psychotherpist working in a college counseling center, waiting tables felt like a terrible joke.
I had an entirely different life in Florida. I gave up everything to come back. I had to give up my identity as I had come to know it in order to pursue my dream and fully self-actualize. I felt raw, vulnerable, and chaotic. In the last year, I can think of only a few instances where I exposed my fear to another. I kept a lot inside. I did not have much support. Some of my loved ones did not understand my decision and this hurt me deeply.
Despite these difficulties, within me, I believed in myself. I thought of giving up, but I never did. I pushed, knowing that I have accomplished a great many things in my life and am exceptionally strong. It has taken large doses of courage. I have confronted my fears and fought hard. I had prepared myself for adversity and had accepted responsibility to fight the fight for myself. It took a lot of hard work; discovering the darkest parts of one’s soul can be maddening and exhausting for facing one’s self is the scariest of all. After much self-exploration and introspection, I had come to believe that I deserved to attain my dream. I was aware.
“For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.” -Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
Thursday, June 25, 2009
It’s quite something, how quickly things can change. I bumped into the bell jar two days ago. It was familiar and it called to me. Before I knew it, I climbed the side and almost fell in. I tipped just far enough in to scare myself. Despair. Hopelessness. Helplessness.
Nothing. Nothing, except a tremendous hunger.
In this depression, it is hard to find the will to dance. I mostly feel shame.
I went to take class. Sean Curran began the workshop by reminding us to leave the past and future at the door, that they no doubt will be waiting for us when we leave. He invited us to embrace the here and now, to dance and fully be in the moment. I remember being inspired by this concept when I was a younger dancer, but I’m not sure I completely grasped the meaning and purpose. Now, that I have studied the here and now, researched it, and have practiced utilizing it professionally in the therapeutic process and believing in its power; I have found it so easy to lose it and forget.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Dance is an aesthetically pleasing art form. It matters what the movement looks like and it matters what the dancer looks like. Dancers spend most of their careers looking in the mirror and being told all the ways in which they are not and can never be “good enough.” Have you ever seen a paid professional dancer that is ugly? or heavy? Dance breeds perfectionists, black and white thinkers, critical of themselves, with a very low sense of self-worth. Or perhaps, certain people are drawn to being a dancer.
The dichotomy is that choreographers want their dancers to be free and relaxed, to trust that the technique and training is there. So, spend your life learning all the ways in which you are lacking and strive to be technically perfect; but, relax, be confident, and perform. Be pleased that you get to dance at all.
It’s an interesting concept. Within structure there is freedom. In dance, if the technique is strong enough then the dancer can move with abandon and yet be pleasing to the eye. The idea makes sense but unfortunately it is often mistranslated. Break you down and then expect you to fly.
This week I got to experience a new feeling. A kind of pride I was not expecting. One of my past high school students, who just graduated from college, was also attending the workshop I’ve been dancing in all week. And she was one of the better dancers in the class, if not the best. I stood there watching her, feeling proud that I was once her teacher, and that she has blossomed into such a beautiful and budding professional. To think, that not only am I still dancing; with it, in it, living it, but I am also a good teacher. It’s a pleasant feeling.
Friday, June 19, 2009
According to Wikipedia, “a starving artist is an artist who sacrifices material well-being in order to focus on their artwork. They typically live on minimum expenses, either for a lack of business or because all their disposable income goes towards art projects.”
While a sensational concept, living as an artist with little to no money is not a romantic experience. I am eating approximately one meal a day. If I eat more than once, I must purchase something cheap, yet filling. For example; bagels, pizza, garlic knots, and doughnuts are cheap and filling. Fruit is affordable, but I always still feel hungry. I have learned that if I buy a meal, it must be large enough to take home leftovers. Therefore, pasta is a good choice. One meal becomes two. Healthy food is never cheap. My current disposable income goes towards dance workshops and classes, transit, and necessary random items such as Ibuprofen, laundry detergent, and soap. I am running out of money and waiting for the state of New York to process my application for licensure. The pay off, the romantic aspect, is that I am an artist. I am a dancer. The sacrifice is worth it.
The problem is that being a starving artist does not promote mental, emotional, and physical well-being, and therefore the dancer is already at a disadvantage. How can one be quiet and peaceful within when basic needs are not met?
” Life begins on the other side of despair.” - Sartre
A test? I may be able to sensationalize and romanticize being a starving artist; however, there is a very real aspect to this journey that is dark and ugly, and I remember now what it is like to have the odds stacked against me.
