I am so excited to see this work. I keep starting to write that I RARELY see work that touches me and excites me this way. But that is not really true. I do see it, and every time I do, I share it here. Even so, those finds are treasures, surprises, gifts from the big sea of the world washing up on my shores. This is a gorgeous gift from French choreographer Luc Petton. Aren’t we lucky! This next one made me weep!
Sanne, the beautiful Friesian that I call The Lily of Holland (Sanne means Lily in Dutch), is a kind, gentle boy. He is the horse that I have used in performances with dancers for the past four years. He is the horse that, when we need someone to tolerate a dancer doing a handstand on his side, or lifting another dancer onto his back, says “OK, sure.” He is partial to his human herd of dancers.
At the moment, Sanne is on a Lyme-related break. No riding. No dancing, Lots of rest, vitamins, antibiotics, and loving. Not riding a horse is a good way to remember why we wanted to ride in the first place. Because we love them, because they are present 100% of the time. Because we want to be around them for their sweetness.
I took many, many pictures of Capprichio yesterday. He is a black stallion, a Baryshnikov among horses and the love of my horse life. He is also very equanimous about having his picture taken.
Some horses are not. Sanne, the Lily of Holland, Pam White’s big Friesian, is very cagey, wary and not especially cooperative. he is not exactly nervous, but he is an avoider (much like myself).
That brings me to another subject. After a certain age, I did not want my photo taken. I am more than a little embarrassed about this. I would like to be easier with it.
I got some significant help yesterday when I watched the film Breath Made Visible about the now ninety year old dancer and choreographer Anna Halprin. It is stunning. She is stunning. There is a glory in her that is so rare, so unabashed, so full that I just sat in silence for many moments after the film. (It is available on Netflix.)
What this has to do with for me (in part) is a willingness to be seen, to be witnessed, to be held in the attention of a single lens or a large audience. These are the waters that I am stepping into again now. At the end of the film, Halprin says that she wants her dances and her dancing to connect to something profound and shared. (I am paraphrasing badly.)
That is true for me as well. What I danced about before is not what I want to dance now. In the past I made beautiful, feral dances that were like a Chinese sliding block puzzle: you had to work hard to discover the order, the relationships and the meaning. Now I want to dance you into the eye of the storm and into my wild heart. I cannot wait to see what will happen.
Watch this film. It is not to be missed.