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A MONTHLY
FEUILLETON (PART 3: DECEMBER)
By Agnieszka Ryszkiewicz
Hi, it's me again, Ophelia. Two words of
introduction for those who could catch up with us only now. (Shame on you
guys!)
I am a dancer and beginning choreographer
("Nachwucks," as they say in Austria, what I like to understand as the "next
hope"). Actually I am the youngest of 10 young artists who form the ESSAIS
group at the heart of a national choreographic center in a cute little French
town called Angers. I am pretty slim (as are all dancers ;)), have dark curly
hair and big green eyes. I like to think of myself as the dark side of Carrie
Bradshaw from Sex and the City … that's why in this blog I analyze the
performative incidents in my surroundings. As you see, although you have
already missed a lot one could say that you "came in the right moment": today's
issues are somatic techniques (which obviously have to do with sexual practices
as you may imagine!).
After the first session of Feldenkrais I
wrote down in my notebook (it is a dancer's must to have one and the most
fashionable are Moleskines. As if we had anything to do with Hemingway!):
"We were all leaning on the floor as if
transported into another dimension. So fully and completely aware of the smallest
veins running through our bodies. It is incredible. We are so sensitive people.
Our common ‘I' lay right there and wouldn't move. The world could break into
pieces but we would go on, carrying the worldwide suffering on our delicate yet
muscular shoulders."
Somatic techniques are actually called
methods in France. One distinguishes two words: "methode" would be rather a set
of principles with the process being the final objective, whereas "technique"
will be more a collection of ways, tools formalized in order to achieve a
result. Therefore to teach a method, one can use different techniques.
Nevertheless the thing about these somatic methods is very easy in the end.
Thomas Hanna used the term somatic for the first time to make the difference
between the body – that is an object perceived from outside (it) – and the soma – perceived from inside – a subjective "I" based on experience. So he stated
that there is no sensation without motor action and no action without
perception.
It all sounded very new and interesting to
me and I admit I was deeply surprised to learn that I was the only one who
hadn't had the experience of practicing a somatic method. Among us were
apparently devoted Rolfing adepts (from Ida Rolf), a fan of Alexander
technique, a BMC practitioner and B. who is completely crazy about Ashtanga
Yoga.
Is ballet technique supported by some
proper Graham and a regular input of release, Zambrano and Les Slovaks Dance
Collective out of date?
Is releasing the tongue more an issue than
turning out in the hips?
In the evening we are invited to join the
general rehearsal of "La Belle Hélène" by Jacques Offenbach, directed by
Mariame Clément. The opera is announced as a discovery "of the Inner Hollywood
in our contemporary Olympus" (http://www.lequai-angers.eu/en/season/opera/bdd/sid/159).
Excited about attending a classic's revisitation, not only a highly sensual art
work, but on top of that a general rehearsal, where the tensions are both
palpable and visible, all ten of us Essayists are trotting harmoniously to the
theatre.
Alert, receptive, and our muscular tissues
rearranged, we keep our spines long when leaning towards the stage. Oh, how
soon our body images shall coil up in pain!
None of us had the strength to wait until
this poor imitation of Fellini's Prova d'orchestra would end, covered by
the ashes of the theatre.
I should have gone to bed early anyway to
be fit for tomorrow's class. It may not look very physically tiring but the
concentration needed to notice all the new things happening in my body is
extraordinary.
During the third Feldenkrais meeting I was
brutally awakened by B. rushing out of the studio. She felt totally sick while
pushing her belly out with every exhalation. I for my part must be doing
something wrong as well, falling asleep has never been so easy … Cecilia says
it's the teacher, pardon the practitioner, whom she finds too low-key.
Personally, I find him not attractive enough to keep me awake while traveling
mentally through my "facias".
Nevertheless, there is a part of that
practice both Cecilia and I found most adorable: the post experience sharing talk.
Once everybody's awake again, we sit on the
mats more or less in a circle and the discussion begins.
"I feel that my body has a lot of
accumulated information that needs to get out somehow."
"Somehow I think that everything in dance is about copying."
"In my country, we do not learn by copying, but I am definitely relieved when
the visual dictatorship is taken away", says Cecilia.
"I do not sense that I went anywhere today. For me, it's like from the
beginning I am turning in circles and …"
"But this is part of the process! I feel the same and it is good."
"It's not about good and bad," our master tries to interfere.
"Well, I like to know that I am doing the exercise in a good way", I say, "I
feel there is so much my body and I need to learn …"
"I feel learning is a life thing for me!" screams Charles, Cecilia's Swiss
boyfriend and visual artist.
"Me, I feel, I think, I am sure I will be sick again", mumbles B. and runs out.
Poor thing B., Feldenkrais apparently is
not her horse. I sadly have to admit that neither is it mine. I love to feel
all my body parts, and I think it is important to be able to talk about
sensations but I still prefer to experiment with them. "La Belle Hélène" may
have been a defeat but back at my place, the tenor made me aware of some really
deeply hidden muscles.
(Transmitted via time machine from December
2008)
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