writer, choreographer, dancer
RINSE CYCLE
RINSE CYCLE was an expansion of my previous choreopoetry endeavors, and included re-imagings of some poems originally presented in SUNDAY and THE BODY AS A LASTING THING. Sometimes I think I am trying to tell the same stories over and over again, each time (hopefully) getting closer to their heart.
From the moment Spoke the Hub graciously offered me a place in their Director's Choice Performance Series, I wanted to celebrate interdisciplinary art. Alongside my choreopoems, I invited two hybrid artists to share work, Mr. Ocean and Mars Garcia, which rounded out the evening and marked my first adventure in curation. Alongside these two creatives, RINSE CYCLE also featured four original scores that integrated spoken poetry and music. They spanned genre from techno to classical to jazz, and featured pianists, drummers, saxophonists, and synthesizers. It took one audio engineer, two composers, three musicians, and a cast of nine dancers to put it all together. It featured seven of my original poems come to life and it was a journey through verse, movement, and music. It was the largest presentation of my work to date.
All promotional photos by Lauren Chiriboga. You can find her on Instagram @laurenchiribogaphoto
THE TEAM
Cast:
Alisya Razman
Phoebe Amory
Anna Antongiorgi
Audrey Borst
Margaret Canady
ChrissyAnn Carpenter
Valentina Fory
Mars Garcia
Catie Kirch
Chloe Russell
Ladell Thomas
Producer and Audio Engineer: Kelly Drake
Photographer: Lauren Chiriboga
Composers: Sean Antongiorgi, Alec Ruiter
From the poem
poems might not pay the bills,
but I hope this finds you well anyway
​​
In the meantime, we can make an art
work and call it
a house. It needs windows into something
bloody – a heart or even just an artery or vein will do.​​
From the poem, ocean prayers
​
I want freedom but I’m bound to my fears / the ocean taunts and
I consider this a fresh start
all seaweed and bubbles and half shelled looking like veins
the sea breathes and rearranges its circulatory system
​​
Vision
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From the poem, sunday​
...A real shatter moment. I’m writing
on top of writing. I wonder if people
who talk about themselves for hours
realize that they’re talking about themselves
for hours. A trick of the light, a disappearance,
don’t worry, we’ll catch the bullet midair...
​