feedforward
Download this interview as PDF
Thumbnail photo by Richard Termine
Alejandra Martorell: One question I have is what does the process of working on this piece talk about to the artist in you? How did it fit with you as an artist, and as a person, as a thinker? Where were you when you started, what connections did you make and what did you bring to it?
Ruthie Epstein: In terms of where each of us is coming from, that’s been a very enlightening process for me, to be entering the same or a related set of questions or issues, but not as a performer, rather as a viewer.
Karinne Keithley: I feel like my involvement in this piece is sort of a manifestation of the way that I’ve changed as an artist or the way my manifestation as an artist has changed over the last many years. Dancing with you [David, who is sitting opposite] is basically the last dancing that I did, and some stuff with Chris (Yon). I wanted to hold on to that as I shifted into going to school, but you have to make choices about what you can spend your time with and what you can’t. And performing means the exclusion of other long-term pursuits. I think that my unavailability as a dancer is how I became the writer, to kind of stay part of the family. And that actually felt really comfortable because that’s the perspective that I have now working-I guess, as a crafter of language: to be able to think compositionally about the piece. And then how I can talk about it as another eye has to do with the kind of longevity of our relationship.
David Neumann: It’s true of the dancers too—the collaboration. I come in with a lot of ideas and I do sometimes throw out movement ideas. But it’s inevitable that the little stuff that interests me most as a dance maker and as a choreographer—watching a piece through that lens—is normally made by other people. I like to work that way. I like to throw out stuff and I like to be surprised by what comes back. That’s what I find inspirational about collaboration.
Alejandra: I’m curious about what were the things for you, in terms of what you received from the other people, that turned out to be surprising—that took the relationship or the work to a different level?
David: What was exciting is that I tend not to give, correct me if I’m wrong, too detailed or too specific an assignment to anybody.
Ruthie: Yeah. I’m not going to correct you there.
David: But, intentionally!—especially when the contribution is at the level that you two have given. I can be a control freak and I can also be on the other side of that, of letting it all happen. There’s a conversation somewhere in there. I remember being amazed at was interesting to Ruthie initially, in the text that was sent to me. I found that fascinating and that really helped shape how I was thinking of structuring the actual dance itself, the dancing parts. Because I kept getting stuck in imitation or completely not imitating, and then I found ways to combine these ideas and these approaches that led to surprise. And then I remember getting specifically Neal’s inner monologue from Karinne, and it completely opened up how I was going to end the piece; it completely made it possible. I was surprised at how it made me laugh. It made me laugh so hard! Karinne is a very funny person, but I didn’t ask her to write something funny.
Karinne: You asked me to write an existential crisis…
David: Somebody having an existential crisis.
Karinne: …which, of everything that I contributed, is the only thing that you asked me for that I wouldn’t have thought to do.
Ruthie: And that’s when we decided to take off and figure out how that was going to happen. Because all I do in my work is interview people and it’s one of my favorite things to do ever. And this was a great opportunity to ask athletes what they are experiencing. Because I can make up stories—we can all make up stories—but people have real experiences that we can mine for this.
Karinne: Yeah, I think that the material for that monologue all comes from what you [Ruthie] sent, and mostly from your brother. That’s the way that I work anyway, to collect and then use, but usually I’m using my own ears to collect. And I think maybe that’s why it turned out surprising to you [David], because I was so emotionally tuned in to certain parts of that interview. And what I tended to write was always like ‘oh, yeah, people are competitive and aggressive, but everyone is sensitive underneath, and they are all thinking about sweet things…’ and it was nice to see what are the dynamics of…
Ruthie: And my brother is like “I hate the batter.”
Karinne: Yeah, humiliated… Also you’re sort of interested in the technicality of what’s the difference between different kinds of pitches and stuff that I had no idea about. That was definitely the most collaborative part of the writing for me.
[ON VIDEO Ruthie: I think working on that piece [the pitcher monologue] also highlighted for me the theme of performance, in every layer of the word: the internal experience of performance, the external experience of performance, and the overlaps between performance and a sports arena; performance on stage and performance in life. And it all came crashing down and came together in this one monologue of self-obsession and anxiety. END OF VIDEO]
Alejandra: If you had to choose one thing that the piece is about for you, like I don’t know if this is it for you Ruthie, what you were saying about the piece being about performing…
Ruthie: I think I overlay that on all of your work because that’s what working with you has been about for me. It’s exploring what it is to perform and what it is to project oneself in space and with other people, and be honest on stage and off stage—it’s always that. So that’s me just projecting…
[ON VIDEO Karinne: One of the things that is most moving to me about the piece is actually watching the kind of gateway of the sports world to ask people to dance differently. I remember being in MASS MoCA, and watching a run-through and having the opportunity to talk to you about it—about how does this get performed? Wondering what are the questions that need to go into the performance [of it] because it’s so layered that it has the danger of floating off the edges if the performers aren’t directing towards some kind of point. And feeling that the answer was in fact to give up what was really known about dance performance and actually engage—I guess this is a virtue of task-oriented movement and that’s a movement heritage that we have. My favorite part is when they just run at each other and it’s so much more physical and the stakes are a little bit higher, even though it’s still in this very strange, intelligent, and slow at times, world. I also have that experience of watching the piece in relationship to a context which is readable for many more people than dance sometimes is. And I think that it’s not just that the language is readable—sports, we all know what it is—but that emotional language that most people have experienced either as a fan or a player, in school or whatever, of doing something so fully that you have to just do… ‘Cause it’s not like you’re out there pitching and you’re like ‘oh, I think that’s my pinky spiraling’ and ‘what’s the angle of my neck’. That all just falls into what is the most useful technique to get the ball there as fast as possible. END OF VIDEO]
I think that’s what I see in it and that’s what I enjoy the most watching it. Watching my friends… Like what is it to sit out and watch this group that I could have been a part of, that’s what I take the most pleasure in.
David: Hauling ass, yeah.
Karinne: And fighting actually.
David: I remember in MASSMoCA, you talking about the performance in those terms. I found it very helpful. It scared the shit out of me, like—is it totally dissipating? What have I done? I couldn’t tell. I count on these guys to say the things… And I remember it was great because I just gave a note and it started to evolve; the performers started to own it more.
Alejandra: What’s the dialogue between dance and sports? Along the lines of what Karinne is talking about, in terms of how is intention different?
[ON VIDEO David: I feel like sports, in a weird way, is a convenient framework to make this dance with this aesthetic. I didn’t spend too much time in a sort of purist—’what movement really makes tennis…’ I did a certain amount of that, and it’s found throughout the piece. But I think I was looking for a way to bring everything I’m interested in into a performance, in the sense of: text, commenting, trying to describe what’s happening, one’s internal experience, juxtaposition—what people are watching, what the people are seeing, what the events are—music, a sense of chance, patterns that are choreographed right next to chance operations, a way of looking at culture without being too didactic or literal, and all of that was found in sports. I’m not particularly a big great sports person at all. I do find beauty in it. It’s curious, I got a question this morning about Neal’s monologue. Someone asked do I experience that, as a choreographer, do I experience that kind of self doubt, or the way the mind goes, wanders away, comes back. Of course, it’s part of my creative process. I’m looking around at things, I’m collecting things, I’m trying things, I forget that I’ve done something over here. END OF VIDEO]
Karinne: I think that idea of the framework is really good. I think ‘sports’ is such an amazing syntax. Because it’s a language that is totally recognizable; we use it in so many ways to sort of take advantage of familiarity. But there are so many different versions of it, and it’s experienced in so many different ways: there’s amateur and professional, and T.V, and participatory, and it’s metaphorical… And it’s also a really energetic, competitive arena, which also has a lot of good will. One of the things that I wrote into most of the interviews that I absolutely love about ESPN is the philosophy. I used to watch a lot of NBA, and no matter what they’re doing out there, you know: ‘I really respect these guys, they’re really great.’ ‘You gotta go out there and do what you can’. They’re very kind of stoic and generous off-court [culture], even though obviously it’s not always; there are a lot of human-interest stories, spats, etc. But I really believe in collecting as a base for making work that is intelligible to others and [‘sports’] is a broad-base area to collect from and also such a wonderful form of syntax to take advantage of. It sort of falls into all these compositional things that you’re talking about also. It’s immediately available to that and yet it’s not obscure.
David: There is a bit of an agenda, I have to admit, because this subject matter, if you will, of sports—although I would argue is something different—but it does have the potential of being more interesting to a wider audience. And whatever the piece I’m doing, I do imagine some of my relatives on one side of the family, who normally wouldn’t go to a performance—what would their experience be? And how do I keep to my ideals completely, and still feel like it’s a generous enough experience…
Ruthie: I think you’re like reaching a hand out and I think that that’s what purpose humor also serves for you, to let people in who might not…
David: But that is always there, in a way…
Ruthie: Not intentionally, not like that is why you use humor, but I think that’s the purpose it serves.
David: I think you’re right.
Karinne: Not to oppose complexity with meaningfulness, but it’s funny I was just thinking of tough, the tough, and how it opens with people essentially getting up and going to the bathroom, which is another shared physical activity.
David: I keep doing the same piece over and over.
Karinne: I talked to Chris when you came back from Florida and I asked him: What did you do? And he said: “tough, the tough, subtract the Marx brothers, replace with basketball”—in terms of the strategies of how we begin to learn this vocabulary.
David: It’s absolutely true!
Karinne: One of the things that I love the most about this piece and your work in general is that you really try to deal with complexity and complex systems, not in an equation-based way—like here’s the key to this type of complexity—rather actually trying to add and add and add. And I think that being able to absorb and then place that somewhere into the system that’s been evolved is part of how you collaborate with everyone that’s in the work.
David: I like to engage all the brains in the room. It’s important to me. First of all, a piece of this size, that kind of complexity—I admittedly can’t handle. And also I like that everyone is invested in a way, in the process of the work. It’s not just like I’m handing out assignments or ‘you have to learn this off a videotape and tomorrow I’ll plug you into the dance’. It’s also like, well, who are you? It’s ongoing too, even from performance to performance, people feel slightly different, people feel the piece shift. And I enjoy that. How much can this piece shift? Like, ooh, that’s interesting, suddenly this feels very precious… and it’s not that I’m so interested in it, but it landed there… That just means that there’s a real conversation going on, from performer to performer and from performer to audience.
Ruthie: In terms of surprises, that brings up something that I started to remind myself throughout this process, which is trust in this process and trust that this is your mode of working, and things will be discovered through that process. I remember some early rehearsal where some text was being tried out and I was like ‘that’s the wrong way for that being said; it’s too smart ass, too New York’. I find that very alienating. I had just got out of having these sincere conversations with people who love baseball, and I was hearing some kind of tone, and that was irritating to me, and Karinne of course reminded me that your instincts come through at the last minute…
David: Even though the instincts of the first minute weren’t quite right! [Laughs] I know what my traps are. I’ve come to a place where I’m comfortable with them. I don’t need to avoid them and I don’t need to edit them: Here’s the big joke, here’s the silly thing, here’s the trap fall, or here’s the smart ass, ironic New Yorker who thinks he knows what’s going on. And then I listen to a more humble voice or a more curious voice, something in there, trying to find those spaces. And that space often happens with the interaction with you guys, that’s how I’m reminded of ‘do you really want that… there?’ ‘I do, but, alright…’
Alejandra: David, you mentioned that you always make the same piece again, which of course is a trope. I was reminded of the hockey piece. What was the name of that piece?
David: It was called Adirondack. My God!
Alejandra: I wanted to ask you, I don’t know how conscious you are of that lineage, but if you had to think back on that piece and this piece, what new tools do you have, or…
David: None.
Alejandra: What did you want to still resolve?
David: I remember starting each process going, ‘okay, what have I not done? What am I curious about? What do I not know how to do? Or what feels more scary? And I’ll try to make a piece starting from that place. Where am I less sure of myself? What do I want to improve, for instance, as a choreographer or thinking of myself as a director?
[ON VIDEO So I keep thinking, ‘oh, this piece is totally different. I’m jazzed. This is totally different. I’ve never seen anything like this.’ And then of course, looking back, ‘oops, there’s that part of that piece… exactly the same as… and they almost have the same… Are you going to show this to anyone? They almost have the same structure. It’s fascinating! And the thing that I realized is, and I’ll talk more about Adirondack in a minute, but the thing that I realized… The other day I was in a Q&A, and what I’m concerned about, what I’m doing on this planet, and thinking about, in the form of a performance, all that stuff is already there. END OF VIDEO]
I find them in each of my pieces. The difference in this piece is that I trusted it. I didn’t gear the material toward: ‘I want to say this!’ I knew that it was there and I knew that in rehearsal, if I was in touch with what it is that I was feeling, what I was thinking, it’ll come out. I’ll find a way that it will come out, through the format and the structure that I was playing with. I didn’t bother trying to be totally different; I can’t. I know that now. I’m not worried about that. I’m not going to worry about that. I still give myself challenges. I think this is much more complex than anything I’ve done before. I think the pieces fit together much more successfully. I don’t know what I mean by successful, but it feels that way. I’m still pretty close to it, so it’s hard to really step back.
But in terms of Adirondack, Adirondack was a great discovery. I was on tour with Doug Varone, and we were upstate New York and I was going… well, going through an experience, and I was alone in the house we were staying and I had the radio on and I wanted to cook something and there was no food, and the supermarket was closed. I was really pissed off and making peanut butter and jelly [sandwiches]. And there was a hockey game being announced and I loved the guy’s voice. And suddenly I heard the repetition of names: “Clutché with the outside and, oh, a hard hit on Clutché…” and he had this voice from the 1930s. It was unbelievable! I thought it was the most entertaining thing. And I had one of those things: It’s a description of action! That’s what I’ll do!!! So, I recorded the whole game. I knew that is a trope that I’m interested in: How do you describe this shit.
So, I recorded that stuff and we played with the text. And I had a ref figure and… yeah, it was very similar. You know what I’m going to do tonight? I’m going to bring out the videotape of Adirondack—these guys can take a break; they’ve been dancing really hard.
I have this quick story I want to tell. I had this argument with a theater director who said: ‘oh, you’re one of those downtown dance choreographers who make dances about nothing. It’s not about anything.’ I was like what? ‘Well, you’re involved in theater, speaking in allegory and metaphor trying to pick out meaning out of every fucking moment, shoving it down our throats, fuck you! We’re doing stuff and you can watch it. That’s simple, that’s a little more honest. You want to talk about being in the moment?’ All these actors saying I want to be real. ‘You want to know what really is happening? There are 200 people sitting in seats facing you. So, let’s start with that reality, and then…’ ‘No, man, I want to be real’. ‘No, you’re being earnest. And I appreciate the effort, but I find that more alienated and more insulting to my intelligence. You don’t trust me as a person, as an audience member.’ It’s a different lens, you know. It’s a different lens of what’s important in performance and what’s important to me as a performer, and what we’re doing in front of each other.
Karinne: One of the things that I carried with me as a choreographer who started to write is that I understand the purpose of performance to be basically a bunch of people in a room in the presence of mind, essentially—the activity of thinking that goes into watching a piece, and also the sort of activity that goes into just dealing with mind and recognition of pattern and complexity. There’s a comfort in the dance world that we’re creating things to experience the act of being in the room together as the parameters of what we’re doing, and not a political message or mythological message or that kind of story-telling. I think dance can be confusing to people—this is on the point about class. That’s one of the things that this sports thing does. You’re able to create a piece that is a sort of exercise in complexity, but with a vocabulary that isn’t distinguished by class.
One of the things that I’ve been looking into lately is disciplinary authority and what kind of vocabulary and knowledge and criteria go with different categories of disciplines of investigations and also disciplines in the art world. And when you refuse to use the vocabulary that comes with a discipline and instead use a vocabulary that is much more broadly accessible, but then pursue the same inquiry that you were doing with this rarefied vocabulary… you know, I see the sports thing as a gateway, not an endpoint in that sense.
David: Yeah. I agree.
Karinne: That what we’re watching is some sort of strange articulation of events, more than getting that point or social message about bodies.
David: What I’m trying to avoid is what I call thesis art, where the hypothesis is the title and the proof is the piece. I want to open the experience. And I think part of the culture doesn’t want to be troubled with dance when it doesn’t offer that: This is a dance called “Backwards” and they all move backwards. ‘Oh, wow, they really did backwards—really cool.’ This is much more open than that.
Ruthie: I’m curious about what you were getting at in terms of using sports to reach a hand out, like I was saying, and thinking about class and the elite and high art and all of these things. I’m curious when it comes to it, what are the demographics of the people who’ve been coming these past couple of weeks. I always look around and say: ‘Who are these people? Who’s here?’
David: I mean, I have to admit it, it’s not too deliberate that I have this agenda that I’m trying to reach across audiences, because the reality of it is to really do that, the effort must be much larger.
Karinne: It’s also important to remember that it’s reciprocal, though. It doesn’t just have to be about reaching new audiences, but reminding any audience member of their position as just a person in relation to the material and not a fellow practitioner. You know, that that kind of expansion can happen internally to a community, as well as by the model of getting it out to people who we think might like it if they could see it.
Alejandra: I want to hear from Karinne and Ruthie what do you think was your main contribution to this piece?
Karinne: I feel they [the text work that I contributed] added my emotional perspective maybe, which is a kind of sympathetic, contemplative position inside this language of sports: To think of victory, in Taryn’s interview, as a form of benevolence and not a form of mastery; To think about loss as a form of meandering curiosity. I feel that what I added was a kind of pitch or a tone that it’s maybe softer within the same material-that has a kind of sympathetic, contemplative…
Ruthie: Well, in terms of specifics, I felt like my greatest contribution was with the baseball pitcher interviews. I guess what I do is ask questions and get clarification from people. Like, what are you really talking about, and is that what you meant.
David: Yeah, Ruthie is a good editor in the true sense of the editor, who sort of directs.
Alejandra: Do you have any final words David?
David: Purple… bird… popcorn…
