20 dancers came together to enjoy this day.
Having had to turn back to collect this Centre Piece I was not starting in the necessary calm place, but it only took a few minutes of dance and 'attunement' to be able to settle in!
I have had some generous feedback about the beautiful dances and the lovely participants
Obviously we were starting from T S Eliot's "Four Quartets", whose inspiration came from Mother Julian of Norwich.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
but neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
there would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
It was the first time that I had taught Judy King's 'Solo in Dio', and Pablo Scornik's 'Oblivion', and both those dances, as well as Nanni Kloke's 'Verstilling", were very well received.
I shared Richard Hazlehurst's wonderful poem about the Touch Step. This has been printed in Grapevine, but was triggered by his dancing in Brigsteer last year!
I shared, and am trying to take to my feet, this excellent advice from Erik Bendix.
Timing is at the heart of the dance, as it is of music, and at the heart of timing is not just the onward rush of even the most furious bursts of expression, but also a sense of pause between each beat. Every movement needs time to ripen out of its own stillness and time to return to stillness when it is done, even in what seems to be a fast dance. Everyone I've taught tends to dance ahead of the beat, rushing past it instead of resting on it and being carried by it. Rushed movement looks tense and tired; paced movement looks alive and at home in its surroundings