Archive for the 'InterPlay' Category

Harvesting Joy Stories (or Why Is The Bad Easier to Remember Than the Good?)

Do you remember the first time you realized that everything is connected to everything else? For me, it was first semester of freshman year at Macalester College. I was shocked to discover that each of my classes, disparate as they were (Theatre With a Global Perspective, The Biology of Conservation) kept on resonating with each other. It became a game each semester to notice what themes were emerging across all my classes.

This weekend the theme of Sacred Stories rose up out of the disparate activities of my weekend. On Saturday I attended The Sacred Story Project: Messages to the World. What a sweet workshop offered by Cynthia Winton-Henry, founder of InterPlay. We spent the day telling stories about experiences infused with love and experiences that suck (thanks, Cynthia, for keeping it real!). We were searching for the stories from our lives that we want to tell over and over.

I was in kind of a bad mood on Saturday, so I had a hard time accessing stories that felt nourishing. I kept on thinking about the stories that I DO tell over and over which I’m TIRED of telling. Stories of pain, abandonment, disconnection, dysfunction. Going to therapy seems all about retelling my pain stories over and over. And even in my academic coaching work, although I often ask my clients, “What went well this week?,” we seem to dwell even more on the question, “What didn’t go well, why, and how can we fix it?”

At the Sacred Stories workshop, it occurred to me that I want to start harvesting all the joy stories from my life. There are so many of them! I want to mine my own life for the joy stories, and I want to hear my friends’ stories as well. You can bet that tomorrow at Tuesday Night InterPlay (which also happens to be my birthday!) we will be playing dancing, singing and telling our joy stories. And I’m so curious about my academic coaching clients as well. When was the last time I asked them about what their most joyful moment last week was? I wonder if any of them will tell stories of experiences in the classroom, with teachers, learning?! I hope so. And if not, I hope to start directing their attention towards those small moments of joy in learning.

As I remember my little “game” that I played each semester back at Macalester, I realize how joyful it felt when I discovered a new theme emerging among my classes. Aha!! I’d feel. Look at this revelation I’ve uncovered!! Through my InterPlay teaching and my academic coaching, I hope to help myself and my companions continue noticing their own joy moments and turning them into stories for safe keeping. (By the way, this doesn’t mean we won’t also keep talking about what sucks. Sometimes that’s soooo necessary and empowering! I’m just looking to create some balance…).

Shoot! This blog entry got so long, I didn’t get to tell you about the OTHER event this weekend that was all about claiming the sacred stories in our lives: I went to the Berkeley Rep to see How To Write a New Book for the Bible. I won’t say more, other than that I highly recommend it!

The Generosity of Being Selfish (or what I’m learning by teaching improvisational performance)

Coke Nakomoto and Gretchen Wegner performing a side by side story.Here’s a crackpot theory I’ve been testing lately in my InterPlay classes: to be a good teacher, the more selfish I can be, the better. It seems that, if I teach a class to meet those needs, I generally meet the needs of the class participants as well.

When Coke Nakomoto and I decided to start teaching a monthly performance workshop series, it made perfect sense that we allow ourselves to be supremely selfish. We wanted to create a space in which performers can nurture their artist-selves.

Why? Because we both notice that our inner-artists need some major tending. For example, my Inner Critic can be quite harsh, which limits the choices I make as a performer; I need a gentle, light space to practice creating and being seen. Also, I have a tendency to abandon my deepest expressions in favor of entertaining the audience; I am interested in figuring out how to slow down and be present to myself while I perform, and then meet the audience half way. As a result, most of my recent InterPlay-as-performance teaching centers around self-care and sweetness while I’m improvising infront of an audience.

A week ago Coke and I taught our first performance workshop of the fall, and it went swimmingly! Seven women — half of whom have performance background, and half of whom wanted to play with performance and personal growth — brought their bright, shining, courageous selves to the gorgeous InterPlay studio. We grounded with ensemble movement improvisations, then sunk deeply into some solo explorations, and finally performed for each other.  I’m consistently blown away by the profound simplicity of the InterPlay forms…and the artfulness they draw out in others!

The next workshops will be on the following Sundays from 2-5pm: September 11, October 30, and November 13. Come join us!

The Magic is in the Details (or How I Taught Storytelling)

 

The beautiful InterPlayce studio in Oakland

In InterPlay storytelling, we believe that some of the most important messages about living and loving come in the form of mundane details.

For example, I could begin a story by saying how life changing it was to witness the birth of my niece…    OR

I could tell a story describing the black smudges and tiny swirls on my newborn niece’s finger tips as she received her very first fingerprints.

Both versions tell the same story, but the first gives away the punchline whereas the other gets there along a sneakier path. Perhaps this is what my English teachers meant by “Show, not tell” (which I now repeat ad nauseum to my essay-writing coaching clients).

Tonight at my InterPlay Performance Technique class we practiced telling seemingly mundane stories about the most profound or important moments in our lives. Here are some of the favorite details I heard from our talented Tuesday Night storytellers:

  • The handiwipes tucked into a son’s luggage as mom sends him off to college
  • The lemonade from Trader Joe’s that accompanied the sharing of  a life changing revelation
  • The importance of showing firemen-in-training how to wield their axe
  • A graduate’s backache as she carries the boxes to the new house.

For all the InterPlay teachers out there, here’s the class outline (my apologies to those of you who don’t know the lingo):

  • Warm Up (including Walk Stop Run)
  • Babbling in partners: (1)  tell as many details as you can about a mundane moment today, (2) tell as many details as you can about the most important moment in your day, (3)  tell a three sentence story that describes a mundane details from the same important moment you just talked about. Notice in a group.
  • New partner. Make a list of important moments in your life that you could talk about.
  • DT3: Perform DT3′s for your partner. Dance first, then talk about a mundane detail about one of the important moments in your life. Repeat this two more times.
  • Reflect in a circle together. Then, perform short DT3′s (the 3-sentence story variety) for the entire group.
  • Group hand dance while humming our own music.

 

Art Every Day Month: Day 11 (Does a t-shirt count as art?)

OK, if you’re one of my teen coaching clients, don’t read this. My image as Perfect Adult With No Bad Habits will be forever destroyed.

I just frittered away 2 hours on the computer designing a t-shirt on Cafe Press while IM’ing with a friend on Facebook (see, dear clients, you are not the only ones to give in to the Technology Twitch). I just got sucked into the computer. And I was supposed to be creating a piece of art, because it’s Art Every Day Month.

So I guess I’ll just have to consider the t-shirt my art-for-the-day.

The inspiration to design the t-shirt hit me while I was writing an email to my friends and family. It’s kinda long, but since it’s relevant I’ll quote it here:

As some of you know, two weeks from now my Tuesday Night InterPlay class is performing for the first time. This is also MY DEBUT leading an InterPlay performance. I’m getting nervous and excited, and just yesterday I realized what a *special* event this is for me.

See, I’ve always been a theatre person without a vision (or so I thought). I went to a Performing Arts high school (kinda like the TV show Fame!) where my theatre teacher told me I didn’t have the “spark” of a professional actress; I then minored in theatre in college, where I longed to be a director but felt I had “nothing to say.” This led to a stint in India studying Indian performance (if you can’t do it, might as well study it, which depressed me because I felt so disconnected), and a job at a theatre company writing/directing educational mini-dramas (which was actually pretty cool because I loved teaching). When I decided to become a teacher, I left it all behind…

…until InterPlay came along. InterPlay has slowly been giving me back my artist self. During my first untensive, I reclaimed my authority as a storyteller. Then others started calling me a dancer (and I’m slowly embracing that, too). Two years ago I got to go BACK to India with InterPlayers (which felt like a beautiful coming-full-circle). Since I’ve been teaching the performance class, I’ve been feeling like a director again.

And guess what — I have something to SAY now. I get to say to my InterPlay students, “Be your biggest, fullest, most expressive, most luscious selves!! Be you! Be art! Be seen!”

As soon as I hit “send” on this email, I realized: I wanted a Tuesday Night InterPlay T-shirt to wear during my directorial debut. And so I designed the ones pictured above. The small print on the back is a little racy, and I’m a bit shy to wear it. (Interplayers often seem so sweet and pure at first glance; dare I sport a swear word?!).

We’ll find out come Tuesday… And if you’re local and want to read the fine print on my t-shirt yourself, come to the performance! Here are the details:

Art Every Day Month: Day 9

I did it!! I finished the painting! My first one ever. Today I worked with my white, silver and gold paint pens to add some highlights. Despite a small niggling feeling of dissatisfaction, I decided the painting was done. After signing it, I headed over to my altar for a final goodnight meditation.

Thanks to my InterPlay practice, I’ve begun improvising songs, often as a form of meditation. As I kneeled in front of my candle-lit altar, the following chant came to me: “Surrender to the rhythm of the life that I have.” Suddenly the realization hit me: These words belong on my painting!! I rushed over, grabbed the white paint pen, and voila!

Although the words look hastily done, I’m so pleased with the final product. I’d been wondering (sometimes judgementally) WHY I’d been painting — of all things — a fetus!? But these new words make it oh-so-clear. The baby symbolizes me surrendering to the rhythm of my life — this life! — with all its disappointments and regrets and surprising turns of events. I can’t know the future; I can’t change the past. But I can surrender into living the life that I have right NOW.

In this moment, that means surrendering into sleep. Good night!

Five “Best Practices” for Teaching Mixed-Level InterPlay Classes

Wow! We had 15 students at the InterPlay Performance Technique class tonight, which is twice as many as usual. All that energy was such a delight. As I posted on my Facebook status line:

For those of you who don’t know, InterPlay is an active, creative approach to unlocking the wisdom of the body. We use storytelling, movement, voice, physical contact, and stillness as a vehicle to creating healthy individuals and communities. InterPlay is also a performance technique, which is what I teach on Tuesday nights. (By the way, in this blog post I’ve tried to translate most of the lingo so non-Interplay folks can understand what I’m talking about; however, if there’s anything I didn’t explain, feel free to ask in the comments section).

We turned the Tuesday night class into a performance class a year ago, and ever since then the class has grown like crazy. I’m so grateful to all the new and eager students! Many of them are experienced InterPlayers who have been hungering to practice performing; others, though, are completely new to the practice. Because it’s a drop-in class, the same folks don’t come every week (although there is a core of about five who are thankfully consistent).

As you can imagine, these disparities –  in experience  and attendance — pose interesting challenges for me, the leader. How might I teach in such a way that the new people learn the basic skills, but the more experienced folks feel challenged? How do I build skills with specific performance forms when folks do not consistently attend? (Note: I’m very aware that these questions are similar to the ones academic teachers ask in classes with both “gifted” and “learning disabled” students. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to reflect about how my InterPlay experience dovetails with my classroom teaching experience; however, there are definitely overlaps, and many of these best practices can be applied to the academic classroom as well).

Slowly, I’m gathering my own list of best practices. Below are a few things I noticed myself doing during tonight’s class. I’m typing them into this blog entry so that I can make them conscious teaching practices for myself, and also in the hopes of starting a discussion with other InterPlay leaders about the best practices they’re noticing.

1. Always teach the basic skills as a warm up into the more complex ones.

Just as a concert pianist practices her scales, so must the most experienced InterPlayers practice the basic forms. Sometimes I’m tempted to forego a hand dance or 30-second babble because I want to get to the “good stuff” of dancing and storytelling using the whole body. However, easing the body into the more complex forms often provides a richer experience — for both the newbie and the old hat. Plus, I’m learning that teaching the basic skills doesn’t have to take a ton of time (often just a minute or two).

2. Provide multiple options.

On a night like tonight, when I have a brand-spanking-new student along side a member of Wing It! Performance Ensemble, I’ve learned to provide multiple options. For example, tonight I knew that I wanted my students to practice solo dancing in front of a witness. This sort of thing can  scary to a newbie. So I introduced dancing by inviting folks to raise their arm into the air and practice moving it in a jerky way and then a smooth way. After a minute of this practice, I offered these words:

I’m about to make some more suggestions for how to move. Those dancing here for the first time might feel more comfortable responding to my suggestions using only your hand and arm.  However, for those of you itching for more, please feel free to use your whole body.

As I invited folks to find swinging movements and practice making shapes, I watched carefully. Sure enough, the newbies just worked with their hands and arms, swinging and shaping. Most of the class, however, dove in to the full body movements. And sure enough, I saw the newbie get pulled along. Soon, he was dancing with his whole body, too!

3. Practice being an expert.

Tonight during the warm up, we explored what it’s like to be an expert. I made up fake words and invited people to pretend that they were an expert in that topic. For example, an expert on “shuhneewa” might say, “Well, obviously a shuhneewa is a special type of baked bread that is kneaded by kneeling on the dough with ones knees. This kind of vigorous kneeding creates a bread that is extra fluffy and is best served drenched with honey.”

After everyone had a turn at being expert, we talked about how our bodies express expertise, even if it is simply pretend. Many of us stood straighter and talked with more clarity and authority. I then invited folks to access this feeling of being an “expert” in their dancing. I invited them to move with clarity and authority, even though all their movements were improvised.

I believe that this “pretending” to be an expert levels the playing field in a multi-level class. Suddenly no-one is expert or novice. Rather, we’re all “pretend experts.” Furthermore, it allows us to discover the wisdom in the phrase, “fake it til you make it.” In my experience, faking a skill is a preliminary way of learning it.

4. Name nervousness, but don’t dwell on it.

Tonight I found myself using the word “nervous” a number of times. Sometimes I suggested that, “if you’re feeling nervous or self conscious, you might try this,” followed by a demonstration of a choice students might make. At another point in class, I shared about a time that I felt self conscious in an InterPlay setting.  I hope that naming uncomfortable feelings demystifies them and makes them seem normal. However, I don’t want to dwell on the nervousness either. I name it as a possibility, but I move on quickly. No sense staying in it so long that folks actually start feeling nervous, if they weren’t there to begin with.

5. Change partners often.

People learn so much from each other body-to-body. When there are experienced InterPlayers in the room, I can rest assured that their example will teach the newcomers a great deal. For this reason, I change partners often. I try to ensure that every new person gets to work with a more experienced InterPlayer at some point early on in the class. Today during class, I used the babbling form (where partners talk to each other for 30 seconds about topics I give them) to give people an opportunity to rotate through three partners. This process only took about 7 minutes, but the settling of energies was palpable. By the time we were finished, I could tell that the new folks had much more ease in their bodies, and they were ready to do more complex work.

***

These five best practices are simply the ones I found myself using tonight. I’m sure there are many more ways of dealing with the challenge of mixed-level classes. I’m also aware that there were moments in class tonight, and in other classes, when I probably didn’t handle the mixed-levels as skillfully.

For any InterPlayers reading this, whether you are participants or teachers, I’d love to hear what you notice about participating in  and/or teaching mixed-level classes. Please comment!

Why It’s OK That I Don’t Finish My Homework


As an academic coach, I end the school year by meeting with parents to reflect on the ways their children have grown  — and to identify goals for the next year.

Recently at the end of one of those meetings, a mom sighed and said, “My daughter is simply developing at her own pace. Not necessarily the pace that I want her to be developing. But her own pace nonetheless.” Mixed into this comment was lots of love, some resignation, a little frustration, and a bunch of pride.

Parenthood sure comes with a complex set of feelings. And so does solopreneurship.

My sweet little academic coaching business is sure developing at it’s own pace. Sometimes it bursts forward! Sometimes it crawls. Just like a parent can’t control every aspect of their child’s development, neither can I do the same for my own business.

I’m extra conscious of this slow pace right now, as I take the Right Brain Business Plan e-course with Jennifer Lee.  I’m so behind on all my homework!! Every week I do a little something…but certainly not everything.

For example, this week we’re supposed to be making a balance sheet for our business. Instead, I’ve been working on the marketing assignments from last week. And even then, I’ve only did HALF the assignments.

The pictures (above) are the collages of my perfect customers that Jenn asked us to make. As I cut and pasted images that seemed to represent my ideal client, I learned a lot! For example, it seems that that my target clients are women and girls. That doesn’t mean that I don’t work with guys. Actually, I’m quite successful with a number of  teenage boys. But my ideal clients — the ones with whom I feel like I’m “in the flow” when we’re working together — are usually women! So why not claim that!?

Speaking of flow: finishing up those “perfect customer” collages was inspiring, although perhaps not in the way that Jenn intended. Her next assignment was for us to create a marketing plan, (two weeks later and I haven’ done it yet). Instead, I feverishly created a flier for a girls-only time management workshop I’m offering in August. Click on the picture to see the flier and read more about this never-been-tried-before workshop!

After creating the flier, I couldn’t wait to send it out. Thus ensued emails, photocopies, conversations. In fact, because I’d pushed to make the flier, two parents have registered their daughters already! Yay!!

Turns out that I didn’t end up making the marketing plan, but I sure did a whole lot of marketing!! Which is a new experience for me. And now that I’ve had real world experience getting the word out about my workshops, it’s going to be a whole lot easier to make the actual marketing plan

At a different time in my life, I might have been more stressed about not doing all my homework for a course. However, my participation in InterPlay has helped me understand the importance of ease and incrementality. InterPlay is a community arts practice that unlocks the wisdom of the body.  There’s so much about life that’s not easy! So when I’m feeling some ease around a specific task that I know is important to me, I give myself full permission to go for it, one small step at a time. Even if it means not doing my homework.

Uh oh. My Devil’s Advocate voice just jumped in:

Gretchen, I’m impressed on the positive spin you’ve just given your irresponsibility. Did it ever occur to you that you are just procrastinating?!  Is it possible that your push to send out the flier was actually a sneaky move to justify ignoring the balance sheet that is this week’s homework?

Maybe. However, check this out: last night when I was driving home from the coaching office, I started daydreaming about the balance sheet. “How cool is it that I just got two checks?” I thought to myself. “I wonder how much the workshop is actually gonna cost me? I guess it’s time to start that balance sheet!”

Aha! Never before in my life have I day dreamed about balance sheets! Maybe this means I’m ready for that next, small step! Whereas before working with numbers seemed like a chore, now I’m entering the task propelled by curiosity, ready to take on a challenge that before now felt big and annoying.

Luckily, Jenn is not grading us on our homework. If she did, I’d totally fail the class. At the pace I’m going right now, my Right Brain Business Plan won’t be done when the course ends.

But every week I make some good progress. I won’t be done when the course ends in a few weeks. But I will have all the information I need in order to finish. Which is one reason I’m blogging about my Right Brain Business Plan process:

I’d love you — my big bold blogging community — to hold me accountable. My goal is to be completely done with the entire plan by the end of July. If you don’t see any blog entries about it between now and then, will you bug me? I’d sure appreciate it.

Now, I’m off on vacation for a week, which means yet another week of not completing my homework. But when I get back on June 21st, I’ll get RIGHT ON that balance sheet!

Bon Voyage!

 

5 Key Ingredients to Building Community

ConstructionTonight we had another delicious Tuesday night InterPlay class.

On my drive home, I couldn’t help reflecting about how grateful I am for this community.

And I wondered — what has caused the Tuesday night community to grow and thrive over the last 2 1/2 years?

By the time I pulled into my parking space, I’d figured out the 5 key ingredients to building community (based on my own experiences, of course).

Here they are!

1. Show Up.

Sounds simple enough. Showing up, and holding the space, is one of the most important tasks in building community. The Tuesday night InterPlay class has continued for 2 1/2 years. Except for the winter holidays, we’ve showed up every single Tuesday. Just as people expect the earth to revolve around the sun, so do folks expect there will be a class on Tuesday nights in Oakland  (and other days of the week, too. I shouldn’t be Tuesday-ist). Point being: the community has been built brick by brick. We continued to show up even when students didn’t. And that patience has paid off!

2. Share Leadership.

Ever get that sinking feeling? You know, when you show up to your favorite yoga class and there is a substitute teacher? At the Tuesday night class we got around that by sharing the leadership between two people. Elizabeth Mendana or I would teach every other week. When one of us was absent, our students barely felt it because they were used to us taking turns!

Since Elizabeth has left the class, I’ve taken on full leadership. But I’ve also made it a point to invite a “guest teacher” at least once a month. In January, for example, we enjoyed the generous, gentle, playful leadership of Wing It’s Jonathan Leavy (a self-described recovering musical theatre performer).  I still attended class that day, but as a student rather than as a teacher. It’s so fun for the whole class to learn alongside another experienced InterPlayer. I also think there’s a benefit to having my students to see me learning and growing (and feeling shy, sometimes too).

3. Use Multiple Modalities.

In InterPlay we tell stories, move and sing, and we do it all playfully. There are so many different ways to connect with each other and be intimate. Tonight we spoke in “fake foreign languages” and made “sounds that sound like singing,” all while telling little stories about our week. Oh, and we moved a little, too. There are so many different layers and levels to the way we connect in a single InterPlay class; there is a space for everyone, every feeling, every thing. The variety of modalities makes it possible to express a wide range of experiences, which fosters connection among the participants.

4. Eat Food.

Haven’t communities been breaking bread together since time began!? During the first days of the Tuesday night class, we often went out to eat after class. Although we don’t do that regularly anymore, I recently introduced the once-a-month post-class potluck. Tonight was the first one, and it was sooooo lovely to share food and companionship. I’m certain that the food-sharing ritual was one that kept people coming back time and time again.

5. Play with People of Mixed Experience.

Newcomers get folded into the class culture so quickly during InterPlay classes. This is largely because there are always some very experienced InterPlayers in the room along with the newbies. So much of what is learned in an InterPlay class is taught, NOT by the teacher, but rather in a body-to-body communication from the other folks in the room. A new person in the room watches how everyone else is playing with each other, and joins on in! When he taught last week’s class, Jonathan was impressed with the high degree of willingness in the room. I believe that willingness is nurtured by the diversity of experience that is always in the room.

What Does Ensemble Performance Feel Like?

ObamaYear1

Recently a friend sent me a survey asking me what ensemble performance feels like. She’s getting her Ph.D. and she needed some help. Ever the dutiful friend, I complied.

I’ll share the text of those emails in a second. But first –  I want to share this: I just finished performing in the second of two Wing It! Performance Ensemble concerts. I’ve been a member of Wing It for three years now and have had a love/hate relationship with performance.

Improvisational performance is hard and makes me feel vulnerable. Every Monday when it’s time to go to Wing It! practice, I feel shy and reticent. But I usually make myself go because I know it’s good for me. And I’m slowly falling in love with the community.

At this weekend’s performance, I still felt shy and reticent, but also READY! Good thing, because instead of the usual 12+ performers, we were only 8. This meant that I couldn’t just hide in the wings, waiting for other performers to initiate. I’d have to pay attention, be engaged, and start stuff!

For those of you who’ve never been to a Wing It performance, let me explain. We perform in a huge dance studio. The performers stand on the side, at attention. We watch, we wait, we listen. And when we’re inspired, we move onto the stage. We’ll dance, tell stories, or sing; we might even do all three at the same time! More simply, in the words of our fearless leader Phil Porter, “We start stuff, we mess with it, and then we end.”

The last couple nights we were performing on the theme of “Obama Year One.” Some gorgeous dances emerged, and stunning music played by Shazam, Theron, and Amar. Amidst the stories, we learned:

  • How recent terrorism rules have restricted Phil’s ability to crochet on airplanes
  • How I spontaneously learned to hoola hoop, taught by a group of Grandmas at Lake Merritt
  • How Dorothy’s Filipina grandmother was detaind by INS on a recent visit to the US

Which brings me back to Nika’s question: “How would you describe, for someone who has never experienced it, what the experience of ensemble performance is like for you personally?” Here was my answer:

In ensemble performance, I spend my time listening — but in a different way than I’m listening when I’m in solo performance (and note: I’m speaking about improvisational performance here, not choreographed/scripted performance, which I imagine provides a different experience of the ensemble).

By myself, the listening is mostly introspective. I’m listening “in” to my story, and then listening to myself as I tell it. To some extent I’m also listening to the audience and their response to my story, but that’s it.

In ensemble performance, I’m stilling listening “in” to my own impulses, but I’m ALSO listening to the group as a whole. It’s a weird balance between going inside and staying focused outside.

But it’s also important to say that the outward focus is what we, in interplay, call “easy focus”. There’s no way to have a directed focus on one thing; instead my attention is diffused and peripheral, and takes in the whole. And then I choose from moment to moment:  how do I want to respond to what’s happening?

In ensemble performance the question is no longer, “What am I creating?” but rather “What is being created here, and how can I contribute to it?

In her email, Nika also asked, “If you teach or coach other how to perform as an ensemble group, please also briefly state the 3 concepts and/or practces…that you aim to foster in performers who work with you.” Here’s are the 3 concepts/practices that I aim to foster in the Tuesday night InterPlay Performance Technique class: :
  1. Who are you as a performer? What are your personal riffs/motifs that you bring to the stage? (In order to be an excellent ensemble performer, I think it’s crucial that people understand their own individual offering… you can’t give to a group unless you know what you’re giving).
  2. Practice listening to the group body. Helping people become more and more “in tune” to the “middle thing” that is being created.
  3. Leading versus following. Know when to create something new/unique (to lead) and when to support that which has already been initiated (follow).

All in all, teaching and performing the InterPlay forms has been an intense and rewarding experience for me. Big hugs to all my fellow performers this weekend, and to all my Tuesday night students. What a journey we’re on together…listening, laughing, creating. It takes courage to be so vulnerable in public, and I salute us all.

InterPlay Performance Technique…as taught by the Red Dance Pants

reddancepantsI had so much fun teaching my first InterPlay Performance Technique class — totally solo!!

For the last two and a half years I’ve been Elizabeth Mendana‘s teaching sidekick. But then she decided to move away.

So, I took a deep breath… and a gulp…. and decided, “Yeeeeehaaaaaa! I can do this!!!” (And promptly bought fancy red dance pants for the occasion).

Last night I was totally prepared to teach a small, intimate class to a few Tuesday night regulars. But at 6pm on the dot, two gals bounded in to the room. InterPlay newbies! “Oh, no!” I thought. “What will I teach?! Can I gracefully cater to the entire range of experience in this room?”

As more folks streamed in (what a surprise, this close to the New Year!), I took another gulp…and made a crucial decision: I will not hold back just because there are new folks in the room.

Phil and Cynthia are always telling us to “trust the forms.” I’m gonna trust that InterPlay Performance Technique will hold us all in its warm, playful, artful embrace.

Lo and behold — it did! The new folks blended right in (in fact, an outsider wouldn’t have been able to tell who was whom), and the experienced InterPlayers seemed satisfied, too.

We got our silly groove on with following and leading; practiced side-by-side solo dances; and finally created gorgeous ensemble movement with 3-sentence stories.  We sure were making F-ing great art!).

I’m so grateful to this improvisational art form that allows a broad range of experience to play alongside each other (and allows me to improvise as a teacher, too).

P.S. A disclaimer: my new red dance pants are not nearly as cool as the ones pictured here. But I needed a picture for this blog post. And these are pretty hot, aren’t they!? Maybe they’ll be my next pair.