new twitter account

http://twitter.com/Guerrilladance/

flow... ... . . . ... . . . . .

I was in one of my favorite parts of Columbus, leaving a coffee shop walking to my car when it started to rain. I quickly threw my bags into my car, dropped off some valuables, threw off my shirt and lept out into the storm (and I mean storm...raindrops the size of tennis rackets, people.) I ran around the little cobblestone village for a fair amount of time until the rain died down. I continued my walk, away from the car, until it started to pour even harder. This was getting pretty ridiculous, it was getting late, and I was getting to a not as nice part of town. I speedily turned to head back, badgered by the intense amount of water hitting my face. About half way to my car I fell upon a spot. I was drenched, the cobblestone lay unevenly below my feet, and little surrounded me other than the brick houses that sheltered all others from the rain. I stopped. I looked around. and I danced...I danced for quite some time. I did just that, doing little more than simply letting all my senses activate...

Raindrops fell like gravity was turned up times two, the lampposts burned as glowing spheres ignorant to the downward flow of water, the houses that lined the alleyway sat as unique as anything that is born in its natural environment, and the cobblestone...the cobblestone was the best part! The cobblestone jutted in every direction, refusing to be stagnant and predictable. I constantly had to reevaluate my footing while taking in my surroundings (both internal and external) and whipping through it all while I flew between over thinking my movement and finding moments of flow. The kind of flow that negotiated all that was being experienced without much consciously directed thought. I was surrounded by energy of all kinds, and was having a damn good time.

change of titles

I recently changed the title of this blog to "Guerrilla ________" instead of "The Scarecrow" as it was previously. The Scarecrow was originally my personal "artist" blog name, and I just used it to start writing about gdance. But now I'd like to have a separate blog for non-guerrilla musings/whatever, and so the url for this blog (notice above) is different to reflect this change.

please change your rss or links to this site accordingly. Thanks!!

gdance, set to A Few words

The other day someone was asking me about how I personally approach gdance (seeing as there are surely infinite ways of doing it.) A couple things came to mind that I thought I'd share.

When I think of guerrilla dance, what comes to mind as the most important factor is the individual. The individual dancing. Right there is all you need to gdance - a human body. You have one of those, and you're golden.
Although I don't think these are always necessary, having set times or places can be helpful. Creating a schedule of when a group can get together is extremely beneficial when people are busy (as we all know.) But hey, you can just have a set time and no set place, or a set place and no set time...or sometimes it's even more fun to just call some friends up and go boogy in a nearby mall *shrug* up to you and your posse.
Don't get hung up on what gdance "should" be. It should be whatever the hell you want it to be: large choreographed routine, the same act over and over, walking slow, dancing your heart out, salsa, ballet, Caribbean, club dancing, and the list goes on and on. The manifestation of guerrilla dance is very dependent on who is doing it.

If anyone has questions about gdancing, I hope my thoughts are helpful. But hey, these are just my thoughts, in no way does this define how anything should be done. This post is more for those who have the heeby jeebies about going out and being a social outcast. ;)

and remember there are others who gdance as well. Find 'em.

Enjoy your guerrilla ways of life. :P

Guerrilla - as a part of another

Today was interesting in how we were asked to come to dance as part of someone's event. This is the first time this group has done this, and pretty cool to be noticed enough to be asked. However, it started making me wonder if we were simply a supplement to someone else's idea. Sometimes it felt a little like we were "tacked on." How should we dance "under"someone else? Especially when gdance seems so much about freedom, or at least it is fairly connected to it.
This feeling was increased by the addition of a nearby D.J. - we not only were dancing there because someone wanted us to, but we were also provided with their music...so their way of dancing? (It's interesting to note that up until recent months, whenever music was used as part of this group, I supplied it. As time has gone on, I've realized the importance of anyone using their music, partly because it's simply more fun to dance to what you know, but also because it helps to deteriorate any sense of a single individual being "in charge.") But does that really matter? Simply because gdance isn't about some agenda, some higher way of thinking, some more logical well-thought out way of approaching life - and definitely not about teaching anybody how to do anything, or higher art. Guerrilla seems less and less as a platform for revolution or telling anyone what to do, and more an opportunity to allow for actions to be taken (to be involved, or not.) So does it really matter who we work with, or in what fashion? As long as we're continuing to simply do, and not start getting greedy: as we gain more attention, not using our opportunities to make others "get" us, or attempting to influence them to become more like us. The desire to influence others is partly self-validation by way of gathering a posse of followers: changing how others think to match so that it fits with what we do. or in other words, validating ourselves and what we believe in by getting others to say "YES! I agree!" As such, gdance almost seems to fit wherever asked to go as long as we stay in line with our simple intention of dancing, unaffected by others' desire to use us to influence their surroundings. Our presence might be doing that, but we on the inside, performing the act of gdancing, not making any effort at causing such an influence.

(Is it even possible to disconnect one's self from attempting to affect others with one's actions? to simply do without agenda to influence?)

Of course, how we are perceived, how we seem to be acting in the eyes of others, that matters too? Do others perceive us to be losing ourselves/our original intention? Selling out? Does this matter if our actions and intent are the same? Will it affect us if others view us in these negative ways? Might we be hindered in some way? It seems as if none of that perception matters if our acts and intentions are in fact staying the same..."pure?"

Siting

Guerrilla dancers recently joined forces with an OSU campus group "Best Day of Your Life" and were caught on camera. Check it out:

http://www.thelantern.com/multimedia/osu-s-best-day-of-your-life-1.1484379

Club Dancing

This is a slight departure for this blog: I tend to write in direct relation to "guerrilla dancing," or rather, the times when I say "Now I'm going to dance as part of my project!!"

yet, last night something stuck out to me like a sore thumb. I took a trip to a local bar of downtown Columbus to dance with some friends of mine. While we were there doing our thing on the dance floor amidst the bumping, grinding, and awkward shifting of feet most displayed, one person stood out. There was this really short (5 footish), slightly husky, spectacled, semi-attractive guy dancing his heart out...all by himself. On a dance floor where almost everyone is either with a group, dancing with a partner, or if alone is on the side looking for another to dance with, this guy was truly outside of what seemed to be that dance floor's norm. For quite some time though, he just kept going, as if it was the last night he'd ever be able to dance again. It wasn't as if he was dancing - "like no one was watching" - but instead as if he was completely aware of his surroundings, and was simply unaffected: he wanted to dance, his way, and so he did.

Within 15-20 minutes after he began dancing, girls started to approach him. First it was just one, then another, and soon a space had been cleared, he was surrounded by a crowd, and several girls took their turn (sometimes two at a time) to dance with him. Even then, while he did seem to be enjoying himself, his face showed no sign of "yeah! look at how many girls I'm getting, and everyone is watching me!" instead his expression stayed in a place of somewhat of a solemn, internal focus. In a place where just about everyone followed a set of rules, rules that depended on others in just about every case, the one person who was gathering the most amount of positive attention was the one who had little to no dependency on the thoughts, support, or perspective of others - even when he was flooded with all those "power in numbers" social supports. He was never tempted to let it affect him; nothing seemed important except for that moment in which he was doing what he enjoyed; and this continued to be true when the crowd had dissipated and he was back to soloing again.

interesting

Blind Man

A blind man asked us to dance today. It hit me as a monumental happening. I feel like there are about 50 million potent meanings (probably related to my documentary) that I could find within that event. But what could they be?

My initial thought is simply the fact that most people are going to pay attention to a blind man attempting to dance, and that there is a potential for embarrassment. Why would he decide to be involved then? Especially when he is perfectly aware (he said as much) that he doesn't know how to dance - he wanted to be taught.

It all makes me wonder if he simply doesn't realize the social implications of a blind person attempting to dance, an act - while mainly kinesthetic - is largely learned via the visual sense. It seems obvious to me that everyone will be looking at him...but maybe that's the point. He probably, as someone who did not grow up seeing, has little to no concept of others looking at him, and him (as a result) getting embarrassed. It probably does not cross his mind in the same way as one who can see.

But he must have some concept of others awareness of him. I wonder what makes him embarrassed then. Especially because I usually feel embarrassment when I feel others' eyes on me. I am so interested in talking to him, and knowing why he finds such an interest in dancing, and if the thought of embarrassment even crossed his mind. Simply because, well, most people I talk to don't want to join the dancing simply because of fear of embarrassment.

Soloing - Slow Walk

I talked earlier about consequences, and I think this event that happened to me recently while guerrillering around the town provided a viable petri dish (if you will) to look at just such a concept.

Today was my first slow walk (another type of experiment, similar to the soloing, that I am going to start). Basically, I just walked from one location to another really slowly. We did some slow moving type activities last quarter, but we did out of the ordinary actions (like pretending to race really slowly) while today I engaged in everyday actions, with one simple difference: speed.

So, I went to Brenen's (a nearby cafe), and walked from the entrance to the counter. Early on in my journey, the girl behind the counter told me that I "was creeping her out. But I don't know if that is the point." I ignored the comment as I slowly walked while unzipping my jacket. Then, as I walked I saw a very tall bald man look at me from behind the counter as well (I believe he is a manger of the cafe) and I could tell he wasn't really feelin' it. I heard him say something about what I was doing being borderline somethin' somethin', but couldn't decipher what he was saying.
When I actually got up to the counter and he addressed me "Can I help you?" I turned my head slowly to look him straight in the eyes to which he replied "I consider this loitering and I'm going to have to ask you to leave." I stared for a second longer..."Can I have a bagel with peanut butter?"

This moment is where I find the most interest. It was one of the most intense moments of needed control. Control as far as fighting the fear of a much taller man, a manger for a cafe, and the fear of going against everything in my head telling me to not go against the social norms put in place for when someone asks a question; especially when staring that person straight in the eye. There were ways that I slightly gave into these pressures - not taking as long to look him in the eye, being slightly more compliant after asking for a bagel than I may usually be (not specifically asking for an 'everything' bagel). However, I could while I did feel the pressure, and did give in slightly, I also pushed beyond these moments, ignoring those pressures in many other ways. Rejecting them. Taking control of the helm instead of letting myself be guided (hijacked?) by my socially-conscious self.

He was so angry with me, furious even. Why did he have such a violent reaction to a fairly innocent act? This I do not know. What societal norm was I going against to even provoke such a rise in him? This I also don't know. The only thing I really know is that there are societal norms in all societies, and when individuals go against those norms, it can cause uproars of varying levels - often quite negative for some reason. I know this happens, and I know most individuals in these societies are afraid of (don't want to experience) the consequences involved when being "anti-norm."

The consequences in this case were not being able to stay in the location I was in, and not being able to get a bagel, which I was quite looking forward to.

While these are perfectly nasty consequences, I could have easily gotten a bagel from a different place, not even a block away. What I think was the worst consequence in my mind, what I was most afraid of, was that of getting publicly humiliated. If I had not complied with his look of "get your act together and act like you're supposed to" he would have broadcast to everyone in that cafe that I was a non-compliant member of this society. Nothing more than that. A bunch of people I never met before, and probably would never see again. It was their opinion that caused me to feel - quite honestly - a bit of terror.

It troubles me how important that was.

(on the side, freewritin' thoughts)

This isn't the first time soloing has happened in this project. I soloed back at Bates for a time and then most recently next to Jimmy Johns. All of which I've written/talked about. However, I never have tackled it head on - with intention to do so. I've never really had a reason to. My knees' pain gave me reason. I'm finding a core of interest in this society thing, and most specifically in the solo thing. It confronts the reality of what we're doing - Guerrilla Dancing - head on. Almost like it strips down the act to its purest form, without any perspectives, opinions, attempts at achieving a goal (which always alters an act) without any desire to make it into anything, but instead letting it breath and just be. Just like the quote from Siddhartha that I'm in love with, "As a result of your seeking you cannot find.....it happens quite easily that he only sees the thing he is seeking; that he is unable to find anything......because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking...because he is obsessed with his goal." Dancing. It's just dancing, without any goal or attempt to affect/gain the approval of others - because you're going into it with the knowledge people might take to it negatively. You're not expecting any approval - quite the opposite - and even if you thrive on that type of defiance, that's not why you do it (at least not in the context I've been involved in - by myself and with Jasmine). An act beyond the walls of the past, the knowledge of historical /cultural pressures. In a sense, a completely new act. An act without a web of relation and precedence.

Or at least that sounds nice. Don't know if it's really true. :P

"This is your one opportunity to do something that no one has ever done before and that no one will copy throughout human existence. And if nothing else, you will be remembered as the one guy who ever did this. This one thing" - Sam, from the movie "Garden State"

Guerrilla Dance - Solo (pt. #2)

The first people I talked to were viewers of Jasmine's solo dancing.

I talked to one girl who was fairly surprised by the seemingly random act of dancing in the library, a place one rarely finds much more than quiet book reading and laptop typing. Nonetheless, she was quite positive about the dancing. She thought it was gutsy, cool to see, and despite the fact that she didn't really feel like it naturally fit in a library, was glad to have it there. I asked her about the fact that she was going solo, and she simply re-emphasized how gutsy Jasmine seemed. I prodded further to see if she would ever do something similar, and she again talked about guts: how she would only have enough to do it if she had a group of her friends to do it with her.

Soon thereafter, I talked to two other girls who I had spotted looking and laughing to each other about Jasmine. We had a long conversation that touched on many points, but one that really stuck out to me came when I asked about Jasmine's soloing, and whether or not these two girls would ever do the same thing. They both laughed, and voiced how one of them had suggested just that idea, of joining in: "I will if you'll come with me." They decided not to, but it kept this idea of soloing in the forefront of my mind. It was so important to have someone else to stand next to when going against what was established as the proper way to act in a specific setting. (Not that this was a surprise to me. Going against what the majority deems as appropriate is a well accepted difficulty in the life of many humans: ex. high school, media, religion, art in general, etc. but) Why was this so important? Both these girls, and the one I had previously talked to had expressed quite an interest in joining. They all wanted to do it, but didn't have the "guts" to unless a friend was beside them. What strength was there in this extra person? What did a partner offer that was a substitute for their lack of guts? And whatever was holding them back - society, culture, the "norm," rules - was holding them back from an experience that seemed enjoyable to them. They wanted to dance on the staircase of Thompson Library, in plain view of four stories worth of fellow studying students and passerbys. Yet there was some danger they wouldn't risk acting against. An entity of some sort that could hurt them. The joy in dancing wasn't worth the possible consequences.

These consequences...

Guerrilla Dance - Solo (pt. #1)

This whole idea of solo dancing in a place designated for a completely different type of behavior is slowly garnering an intense amount of attention in my mind.

A dancer (Jasmine) and I took a trip to our local library to dance, and as an experiment (and because my knees are shot from repeatedly dancing on concrete) I had her dance alone. First she danced without any music for about 20 minutes, a break, then danced for another 20 or so minutes with an iPod on.

The question was, would there be any difference with this dancing experience with a single dancer versus the groups of three or four that usually go out?

The difference was there, and I soon felt bad for knowingly putting my dancer into the...lion's den, if you will. I saw looks like I always do, and saw Jasmine dance with infectious joy and fearlessness, like I always do. At first, I found nothing irregular. However, time went on and I myself began to feel embarrassed for her - despite my own involvement in the project. There was something about her up on the staircase, a lone figure in her attempt to do something out of the ordinary. How horrible it seemed...

Beyond that feeling of my own, I didn't see any other obvious signs of real negativity. Until of course I actually went and talked to others...

Guerrilla Dance Writing #4

...continued from #3

and we danced, and enjoyed ourselves, and affected those who watched, and didn't affect some, and (it seemed) most importantly we spread dance. It was good.

But I knew something wasn't quite right. I felt good about the process, and it seemed to be fulfilling the goals I had set out to achieve. Yet it rarely felt really good like I thought it would. I felt unsatisfied with the process somehow, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I didn't really put a lot of thought into it - the actual act of making dance happen everyday of the week was more than enough to keep me occupied - I didn't have much of a choice.

At the end of last quarter, all the dancers involved in the project and I had a talk. The topic of connecting with viewers came up. They felt we had brought the fourth wall of proscenium performance with us to our everyday "stage."

As a result, I attempted to approach this Winter quarter differently, using social dance (that which might be done at a club, wedding, party, etc) mixed with a touch of studio movement, with the hope that this would be more inviting to the audience. It also made the focus automatically (albeit consciously) switch to fun. Which, I didn't notice it at the time, had been the original focus all along.

I wrote up a set schedule, found a set place to dance, made sure set people were assigned to each day, and we began...

Guerrilla Dance Writing #5

...continued from "Writing #4"

Day one was an absolute disaster. No dancing happened...it just wasn't right. All the set components weren't clicking, and freaking out by me commenced.

How could I possibly imagine to orchestrate this huge project? I didn't know what was right, and I seemed to get it wrong quite often. There was so much room for error.
On top of all that, it occurred to me: how could I possibly expect anyone else to adopt the responsibilities that I had? It was my hope that if a group of us began dancing in everyday life, on a consistent basis, others would join. Yet it was simply too much work, and too tiringly complex...especially for one person. All the leg work was messing with the fun, the joy. It was doubtful anyone would join the "cause." Even I was beginning to question my ability to keep things afloat.

Then a wise person suggested the idea of throwing out all the structure: "setness" if you will. Why do we need speakers, music player, set places, blah blah blah? Let's just go dance; pick some random place everyday; do our thing.

I smiled, the very next day did what I had been advised, and it finally felt right.

Spontaneity came into the picture, adventure, freedom to choose, flexibility: all qualities that say dance to me. Dance as a way to express whatever one is feeling, do so using the physical instrument of self (the body) and not let anything get in the way. After only three days of this new approach a random passerby joined in the dancing, another week and a slew of others were asking how they could be involved, and another two weeks and dancers from other states were expressing interest in doing the same type of dancing. All of which had never happened in the two and a half months we had already been dancing in public spaces.

There definitely seemed to be a shift, and that shift seemed to be caused by the shift us group of dancers had made. It stopped being about rules and lines to follow. It became about doing what we wanted, and using whatever we could find as a way to do it. It expanded on the ideas of the club and tribal dancing I had originally been inspired by. It took parts of what make that type of dancing for fun/entertainment, doing whatever you want. Now though, instead of going to designated locations to do it, the canvas was clear, and the paint began to fly.

Guerrilla Dance Writing #3

I keep coming back to this idea of fun. When the idea for this project/act/group/movement (Guerrilla Dance, or whatever you want to call it) was in its early stages, it centered around the little knowledge I had about social dancing of West Africa, the swing clubs in Harlem, wedding receptions, the club dancing of current day: dance, most of which is focused on social enjoyment. I noticed that the prevalence of dance within societies (along the aforementioned vein) appeared in a variety of ways and amounts, but all seemed to show up in a social setting of some sort. My first instinct, and the original iteration of this idea of Guerrilla Dance, was to go to the places that already had dance, encourage a movement that led away from bumping & grinding, and would include more complex dance.

I moved away from that approach quite early on, for many reasons, but looking back on what I had considered and how this project has evolved, I see a common thread that has survived: fun.

Last quarter, we had a set schedule with set locations, set people who were going on each day, and set scores to guide the dancing

...everything was set...

Day-Write #2

January 25, 2010

Dancing by yourself in an extremely public space (on the corner of High and 15th near Jimmy Johns, a very traveled area) is terrifying. You feel this pressure telling you what you're doing - sort of detailing out in your mind what your actions are within society's walls. Or rather, what you're doing and how it ranks in the scheme of things you can and can't do. Trying to describe to your conscious self that what you're about to do is going to be this, this, this and this - embarrassing - within the eyes of others...
Even while I was dancing I felt that pressure. For me, once the process begins that fear often diminishes. Yet I constantly felt the eyes and thoughts of others coming down on me, what they might be thinking, the words of ridicule and judgment going through their mind, and whether or not they feel positively or negatively about what I'm doing.

Compare this with the experience of dancing in everyday places with others, and it's an entirely different story. Why that is, I don't really know for sure. It makes sense to my mind that it is because I have back up in a group "These other people are doing it too so it's ok. Multiple people approve, so it's OK!!" Power in numbers. But when you're by yourself, it's all on you. All the pressure is pushing down, and only you are there to hold it up. You have to decide whether or not you care. Physically nothing is happening to you, no real pressure is there, nobody watching is actually doing anything tangible to me, so you have to decide whether or not to imagine that pressure. Choose whether or not to feel embarrassed.


Why is it scary to go beyond what's already been approved? Going into the unknown...the mysterious.

Day-Write #1

As part of the work on my senior "Guerrilla Dance" project, I am going to regularly be blogging about my day to day experiences within the project. These will be very casual, sort of free writes more than anything. Here's iteration one of that process.

January 22, 2010

The energy felt when another dancer is completely released from any sort of pre-conceived notion or pressure, it's completely contagious and inspiring. I've noticed that I tend to not have that reaction unless someone is not a technically trained dancer. Not always the case, but in the most extreme circumstances, it is for me. Infectious energy. What is that? Life? Something inherent in dance that needs to be unlocked by each individual in their own way, or simply an expression of some sentiment that just happens to come out nicely within dance?

Obviously whether a dancer is trained or not is not the catalyst. However, since I tend to notice it more often with untrained dancers, maybe it is an issue of control. Trained dancers are so aware of what they are doing, constantly evaluating movement, or at least being aware of how their movement fits into the "world" of dance and technique.
A thought could be that simply because we are so aware of the context within which we dance, it is difficult to let go. Letting go may then be the reason for this release of energy: an unpolished expression of one's self.
Yet this hypothesis doesn't account for the dancers you watch who have this type of energy, and are expertly trained. Have they found a way to consciously tap into this energy, is it simply inherent in them, or is it simply a skill that can - like many others - be practiced and perfected?