S L I P S K I N
Dance is made of the dancer. Because of the nature of the art, a dancer's physical self is intrinsically and eternally intertwined with his or her's emotional and mental self. Simply, we are what we do, what we say, what we dance. The lengths that these artists choose to put themselves through may seem extreme to some, but are simply a fact of life for many.
Structured around a quote by renown dancer and choreographer Crystal Pite, S L I P S K I N explores the struggles, challenges, triumphs, and repercussions of living such a physically demanding lifestyle and those who choose to live it.
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"You are dancers, all of you"
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"Papa I want...want dancing!"​
Life moves you; life dances you. To dance is to investigate and celebrate the experience of being alive.
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"You did good in the show today. I'll kiss your boo boo so it goes away."
Like life, a dance creates and destroys itself in every moment.
"We all know pain. Every day we're training ourselves to be more comfortable in extremely uncomfortable positions and situations. We tell ourselves the pain we experience is in service of some higher purpose, that the soreness we feel is some type of reward for working hard. Training the body is a punishing, difficult task, and it is our job to love the practice of it anyway."
Like love, it is beyond reason.
"It's hard to separate self-worth from physical ability when its my body that's being judged for its capabilities. I've gotten cut from auditions before because I'm too tall. That's not something I can even control. Because of that, my physical body is never and probably will never really be good enough. It's mentally exhausting. It makes you want to cry sometimes. But I have to remember I'm more than that. I'm more than a trick pony. I'm a human, too."
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Ephemeral as breath, concrete as bone, dance is made of you.
"The rule in my house was that I wasn't allowed to go to dance if I decided I was too sick to go to school. So I was never too sick for school. I never wanted to miss dance. Now, my teachers have to force me to go home when I'm too sick to dance. One of them said I'm like a golden retriever. Those dogs will sooner drown fetching a ball in a lake before disappointing their owner. She said she has to stop me from (figuratively) drowning myself because the perfectionist in me will never be satisfied."
You sculpt space. You write with your body in a wordless language that is deeply understood. You grace the space within and around you when you dance.
"I don't wear open-toed shoes anymore. My feet are way too gross for that, and I'm pretty sure they always will be. I basically only wear sneakers, or else my feet get angry and hurt for days. But I'm proud of how gross they are. Don't trust a dancer with pretty feet: he or she hasn't worked hard enough."
Force, trajectory, inertia, and recovery: dancing is a ride, a duet between your instinct and imagination.To dance is to heighten your experience of the present moment.
"We have to be present at all times. Dance is an oral tradition, so we rely a lot on memory to remember class combinations, choreography, corrections. Even when your body is taking five, your brain is always working."
Your body is your location - when you dance, you are profoundly engaged in being there.
"I love my body; just sometimes it doesn't love me back. Which, I mean, is fair, I make it do things it doesn't want to. My pelvis is so out of alignment it's affecting how I stand. I've got to get it fixed. Standing crookedly makes the whole world a little...left of center, you know?"
To dance is to feel the resonance of your life, to delight in your existence.
"We're with each other all the time, whether we like it or not. The relationships we form are incredible--you get to a know a person so well by the way that they move."
