editor :You can now (20.06.06) read more about this piece Here.

or less (shorter version) about it Here.

At last, my choreography is finished. I have said a little bit about this piece in my Easter e-mail, but not much more than that it's the first piece that I've choreographed, it's two other dancers and I who are in it, that it is 17 minutes long, and will premiere in June. And now, it's ready. (Well, after more rehearsals, it will be ready to Show.) But at last I'm not spending my free time deciding on what steps we ought to be doing, or feeling guilty about the fact that I'm wasting my time NOT deciding what steps should be danced. (Which I did more than my fair share of.)

While in the choreographic process, I've been quite silent about what I was doing. This wasn't because I thought I might change my mind, and then have told a lie. The reason is deeper, and more complex than that. I have noticed, when writing poetry, that if an idea once comes into my head, it can get stuck to me. regardless of how the feeling of the poem is going, I have a gut feeling that this idea I had is the Right one. And that it's supposed to be in the poem. OK. But the problem then comes when I'm at a loss for some time, and I tell others about how I don't know how to continue. And then they make a suggestion. And in the split second that I consider their suggestion, I see it as my own idea. And regardless of what their suggestion was, I have a feeling that it was the Right idea.

Does that make much sense?

It's the same principle at work with choreography, I fear. For another example, let us imagine that I was undecided about how to start the piece. Should the two dancers be beside each other? Should there only be one on stage? Should one be lit, and the other in darkness? Well, It hasn't been decided yet. But if I want to tell someone about my piece, then I can't just say that "it starts somehow, and then thirty seconds later, this, this this and this happens." I just can't say it like that. So, even though I know it's a bad idea for me to say anything, I'll find myself making up my mind what to explain. Just now. Only temporarily. I chose which beginning I think would be best.

And afterwards, I'll always remember that decision, and feel that something is out of place if I try to change it to something else. And I just can't work that way! I need my artistic freedom! So, Pretty well no one knows anything about my piece, because I've been waiting until it's finished before telling about it.

Verregneter Ferientag.

(this means, "Rainy Day Off." -I wanted Rainy Sunday, but that could have religious connotations. And I didn't like the sound of Rainy Saturday. And the whole dance takes place in one day, so it couldn't be Rainy Weekend. So... this is what I've decided. At least for the time being.)

The piece is inspired by a poem I started writing, which in turn was inspired by the particular relations I have with Pamela and her mother. (It is Not a scene taken from our life together, (Pamela and mine.) It is a scene based on two people who are in a Similar situation. My situation was the starting point for this piece though. And so, it takes place at the home of the mother, where her daughter and the daughter's boyfriend are living.

The whole piece is meant to be an exploration of their interrelationships. But I don't know exactly how much of that will be clear to the public. It depends on how well we all work on our characters. At any rate, it's a rainy free day, with nothing much to do. It's choreographed to J.S. Bach's Suite for Cello, (number one,) -for a solo cello. And it's in six movements:
1. The daughter wakes. She leaves her dear sleeping, and greets the day.
2. The boy awakes. He's much more sleepy than She was, but eventually gets out of bed, and comes over to where She sits by the window. They Dance. (How predictable was that?)
3. Just as they're getting Back to bed, the mother, full of energy, and movement, comes in to say "good morning, hope you've slept well, breakfast will be ready soon, and let's get going!" -Just what every young loving pair want to hear.
4. They all sit. (Meaning Breakfast? Or the time just after the meal? I'm not certain. It's meant to represent the feeling of looking out the window at the rain, and having nothing worth doing come to mind.) Anyhow, We all dance a bit, but end up sitting again anyhow. And feel generally un inspired and restless. (Although when the mother leaves the room, the lovers are soon in one another's arms.) But then, the boy has an appointment to keep, and must go.
5. The mother returns to the room, (And I didn't know what to do with this piece of music... SO,) She brings a piece of cloth with her! Hooray! They can dance around with a piece of cloth for three minutes! -And that's basically what they do.
6. The finally. The boy returns, and they all dance together. The boy and the mother are still in some conflict over the girl's attention, but eventually, it ends harmoniously.

So, that's my piece. I feel that I've got some very nice moments in it, (with simply lovely steps!) and other moments that are... good enough. I might eventually come up with something better to do at those moments, but perhaps not. We have right around four weeks to rehearse it now, and make the whole thing look splendid. And my next stage of work on it will be making decisions about the costumes and lighting. (And what sort of chairs we'll be sitting on.) But I hope that these decisions will be easier for me to make: That I can just choose from a number of possibilities. (Unlike choreography, where I have to choose from truly infinite possibilities.)

So, I'm happy right now, and I don't feel guilty about spending time writing for my website.

And that's just nice!