“Everything is under heaven is chaos, the situation is excellent”, have we heard it before? Nah, I don’t want to, no more bio-politics now. It’s Saturday fwochristsake. So let’s try another one.
Everybody is totally fucked up: there is not a single festival worthy it’s name, not one dance venue that has a program; programmers, choreographers, dancers, producers, set-designers and the guy you hire to make the music. No no no no, they are completely over. Completely! Dance as an art-form, like you have to be pretty stupid to make it your passion. I did, and there is something even more embarrassing about it – it wasn’t a choice. I would of course never admit it but in fact I just ended up here. I have a handful of almost exiting versions for why but as all you others, the reason I’m in dance is because I wasn’t good enough for something else.
Somebody asked me why there is an absolute lack of kick ass producers in dance? Isn’t the answer evident: because if you are any good you leave the business. There’s no money, there is no fame, where is the fancy party? Who is the choreographer who orders two bottles of exclusive champagne and asks the waitress to waste one – pour it in the zink – just because it’s just too middle class to shake the bottle and spray it. – – MTV is really the most embarrassing television channel around – – and the business idea behind The Hills is pretty much amazing.
I have another confession, one that hurts. My first experiments in dance took place in 1990, I wrote my first reviews and took a few courses in dance-studies at the university. In 1990, how amazingly stupid is that? I must have been blind and totally senseless. How could I have missed out the Internet? Why didn’t I work two afternoons to understand the rudimentary whatever about web-publishing and made billions. I can assure you, hadn’t it been for dance I would be rich like Bill Gates today. And what has happened instead, I work as dance teacher and write a blog. I could have invented wordpress, but no – I decided for dance. I wasn’t forced, I didn’t decide, I wasn’t passionate – and you know there was no Marcel Duchamp thingy, you know that the ready made has to choose you – no dance didn’t choose me – I ended up here and I stayed. Do you know what that proposes: thumb and index fingers in a ninety degrees angle placed on your forehead. Loser LOSER L O S E R – Leave now, get out of dance and choreography at this very moment. Don’t wait for an opportunity, an offer from Hollywood or to be part of a band. They wont come to you. You have a mission, to leave the domains. For each day you wait the offers become less and less exiting. Check out, book a one way ticket asap. Go catch that flight. And don’t you dare and come visit.
The problem with dance and performance, help me god, is of course the lack of chaos. Who wants to invest in a business that hasn’t changed since the beginning of time? Yeah, dance is the oldest art-form right… An idea, perhaps Belgian dance got its legacy because it is the only country where business is so primitive that investment in dance could appear attractive. My impatience has nothing to do with what you and you and you are doing, I’m just so sick and tired of waking up to the same. I’m writing every day, because I can’t wait, I can’t extend the contract any longer. My lease is over and it just keeps going. I need a total make over. I’m not excessively fat neither do i have seventeen children but SVP make me a total makeover. Twenty years and I’m still curious, I want more, I want much more, I’m empty, lost, the season isn’t running anymore, I have nothing to say and I’m not John Cage – and even if I had something to propose I couldn’t cuz that’d be no better than any other networking festival director dance artist art-council choreographer’s proposition. I can only swing my arms without aiming – – I can’t retreat into yoga, it’s great, it feels tops, makes me body triffic but I can’t – not even Youtube ashtanga – I can’t because of how it proposes a healthy soul in a healthy body – and that woman in the yoga video ends the session, with a flattering “rock it!” – only… I’m devastated, painful – squeezed between an absolutely striated world of dance and total chaos. I can not propose anything at all, and yet I must continue to write. For 100 days, I must write – it’s a mission that can not be altered. And don’t ask why. I have to sit out detention, no parole. A 100 days, three times more than Lindsay Lohan. OMG – the moment I propose the potentiality of any revolution however tiny, is OVER. It’s our job together not mine to search for the beginning, and begin. In the meantime I can only do one thing: Betray all sides.