Moving Parts

I make dances to reconcile my feelings about my own mortality through an exploration of relationship as the thing, the Technicolor texture, which brings meaning. Our finite body is the primary site of all experience, the instrument through which life is lived, the constant reference point for meaning-making. A meditation on how physical actuality contributes to our sense of self, being, and mortality, my work places the performative experience at its center to incite the viewer to connect to his/her embodied reality, implicating the viewer and highlighting the primacy of lived, i.e. physical, experience as the marker of our humanity.

My work intersects formal concerns with more metaphysical concerns about viewing, perception, and reflection on our own embodied reality and balances at the tension point between focus and freedom. I am grappling with the existential confusion of being alive – in relation to oneself, to others, and to environment – questions of self-identification that are rooted in the physical lived experience. What is the relationship between the bodies moving and the bodies watching? Can a dance that focuses on the performer’s physical experience leave room for the viewer to have a reflective experience? Can my dances inspire the same multiplicity of experience for the viewer in watching that I am having in doing?


I begin conceiving of a dance by visualizing it. I begin creating a dance by moving improvisationally, moving from a place of not knowing; I wait for a physical impulse or a visualized shape to take on.

My work’s meaning is derived through the particular process of making it – traveling through the stages of not knowing, discovering, negotiating, and organizing. As movement develops, I fold actions on top of one another, accumulating and organizing the physical experiences to create discrete worlds, emotional, suggestive, but non-referential. To explore the relationship between its form and function I try to take a dance apart while putting it back together. The goal is to leave no stone unturned in looking at what a dance is made of as I’m building it.

I am a formalist, engaged with making work based on how pieces fit together, but where my primary formal material is the immeasurable experience and exchange of the dance. I intuitively design the space, utilizing abstraction and visual organization to explore what lifts off a particular structure, i.e. how the internal experiences of the dance are seen and perceived. How can I juxtapose events to undermine any external references – intentional or not – in order to refer back to the moment and totality of the dance itself and keep you, the viewer, in the room with it?