Architecture and dance

Nick approached me with a creative challenge - to make dance for his original music inspired by the idea of labyrinths in Chinese architecture.

I began to ponder.

Architecture and dance is such a charismatic pair. The dancer and the architect both intentionally carve space and give it new life, one with movement, the other with materials. But dance is ephemeral. Buildings last longer. To make a dance about ancient built spaces reconnects me to a history that I was never aware of until now.

My starting point - making movement notes inspired by the Chinese Architectural Treatise Yingzao fashi (The Principles and Patterns of Building)*:

wander and joy 遊樂

change thorough enlightenment  變通

to go beyond the dead end of understanding is to change, change leads to enlightenment, and enlightenment is eternal  

窮則變　變則通　通則久

山 , 天

abstruse Dao is the gateway leading toward all wonderfulness

玄之又玄　眾妙之門

remoteness perfectly contained

a space in remote depth

meandering

lost in remote landscapes

withdrawing from the bustling world and moving into remote nature.

random play

Source: The Idea of Labyrinth (Migong) in Chinese Building Tradition Author(s): Hui Zou Source: The Journal of Aesthetic Education , Vol. 46, No. 4 (Winter 2012), pp. 80-95 Published by: University of Illinois Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5406/jaesteduc.46.4.0080 

Resolution - to show my work

I have resolved to show my work more. My process - response to inspirations, creative fragments and explorations. Drawings, notes & encounters. Leaving a ‘public’ trail here will help me to see creative themes and directions as they emerge.

If you are reading this, thanks for stumbling across my trail that I had kept hidden. May you enjoy the views on your short meander on this winding & craggy path.

Opening up the studio

**written in October 

It was another rainy day. A good sign - the locals would not be able to go to  'inekari (稲刈り) or the cutting of rice stalks, and would be able to come by in the afternoon. The flip side is that the sun sets early on rainy days. I just hoped that I would catch some of the last light and be okay dancing on wet steps of the house. 

It is Day 14 of my residency at Australia House. And it was time to reveal to the community what has been taking place in this unusual space, and share the joys of dancing creatively. 

As I mopped the long wooden steps of the house front, one of the locals drove by to drop off some gifts (apples and cookies) and said he will be back later to see the performance. Another came by with fresh flowers from her garden and warmed pumpkins. 

Finally, as the locals gathered, it was time to dance. 

Afterwards, we gathered around for tea in the triangular studio . Someone said that she felt joy in my steps as I ran, and the beauty in the landscape from my perspective, and that she is very happy to see me express this. Others said that this is the first time they have seen contemporary dance. 

It was time for the dance workshop. With my friend Mayu, who travelled from Osaka to join me, we led the group through a hip-hop based warm up, an movement exercises with contrasting emotions, exploring the concept of swaying in the wind as grasses, and forming shapes with our bodies. 

With participants' ages ranging from 13-82, there was a wide range of movement.

And much laughter.  

Turning the house front into a performance space

'Swaying in the wind' exploration

Waves in the ocean

Drumming, dancing to the clouds

Sometimes, it takes luck and good fortune to make things happen. 

I dreamt about dancing to rhythms of the Japanese Taiko drum. And suddenly, Daichi and Naoto appeared - two brothers of Urada who grew up playing them. They have such an organic and raw energy as they beat the drums together. It was no wonder when I learnt that Daichi has been his own teacher - finding and practicing new rhythms on his own, and teaching his younger brothers along the way. 

On a Sunday afternoon, they were happy to come by to Australia House with their Taikos. I showed them my dance and the specific movements I would like to drumming to, and the brothers created the rhythms. 

As I beckoned towards the trees and mountains as the sun was setting, the cold air swept through under my sleeves. And I felt our common connection to the natural world through the meeting of our movement and rhythms.  

Photo credit: Mayu Shirai