![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Butoh Workshop
Feb. 24th, 2011 06:21 pmSince I moved to Ontario about four years ago, I've been taking in as many butoh workshops and performances as I can, devouring them as though starving. I've studied with Denise Fujiwara, Yuko Kaseki, and now, Jocelyne Montpetit. Each of my teachers has a different approach to the other, but the underlying thread remains the same: an emptiness, and movement that doesn't originate from the body.
After three days of working with Ms. Montpetit, I feel like something is finally beginning to click. Her workshop was the least physically-intensive of all the butoh training I've done. But it's not exactly intellectual, either. Intellectualization can hamper it, I think. Although the exercises invariably included the word "imagine," after a while, it seemed as though I were no longer imagining an impulse, but that it was actually happening. So I wasn't just imagining having a string pull my pelvis, I could feel it. I could feel my body turning into dandelion fluff, being blown by the wind, being moved by the snakes beneath my skin, steered and pulled by the ribbon of smoke pouring from my elbow, etc.
With inspirations no more complex than an imaginary stick pressing against our foreheads, we created arresting dance pieces. As long as the dancer hold onto the imagery, the dance has an incredible intensity. You can see the moment when the attention wavers. The movements lose their verity and become diminished. They look contrived and lacking in power.
I am disappointed my week of dance training has drawn to a close, but I feel enriched for all that I have experienced. I wish I had someone to collaborate with to continue practicing what I have learned.
After three days of working with Ms. Montpetit, I feel like something is finally beginning to click. Her workshop was the least physically-intensive of all the butoh training I've done. But it's not exactly intellectual, either. Intellectualization can hamper it, I think. Although the exercises invariably included the word "imagine," after a while, it seemed as though I were no longer imagining an impulse, but that it was actually happening. So I wasn't just imagining having a string pull my pelvis, I could feel it. I could feel my body turning into dandelion fluff, being blown by the wind, being moved by the snakes beneath my skin, steered and pulled by the ribbon of smoke pouring from my elbow, etc.
With inspirations no more complex than an imaginary stick pressing against our foreheads, we created arresting dance pieces. As long as the dancer hold onto the imagery, the dance has an incredible intensity. You can see the moment when the attention wavers. The movements lose their verity and become diminished. They look contrived and lacking in power.
I am disappointed my week of dance training has drawn to a close, but I feel enriched for all that I have experienced. I wish I had someone to collaborate with to continue practicing what I have learned.
