Imagining this might be this as an economically propogated/culturally specific issue?

I am watching the camera watching me. It becomes a wierd voyeuristic experience. I decide it isn't what I want to share with the world. I hold the camera but I don't look at it, I guess what it can see. With one hand I move the camera and with the rest of me I dance, sometimes all of me dances. I don't find out what I am making until I get home and download the videos. Then I see some things--too many things. I use the editing tools to try to find the moments I need, to make sense. I separate the sound and the colours, I filter out almost everything. But still I have too much and I leave the bewildering task. Or should I say "de wild ering?" My dance is waiting for me inside a wilderness.

There are different things we mean by "online" I think. Some of my thoughts are about online improvisation with someone else who is also improvising/creating through zoom. Maybe we can see each other or maybe we can't, but we are both free to make connections "intuitively" or not and to follow new movement ideas, within the score. Some of my thoughts are about online "interpreting" choreography, where my "intuition" may be asking the usual kinds of questions of myself--"how long for this action" or "if I change this angle slightly" or "maybe the focus here could be more like this,"--but/and, the choreographer is deciding, perhpas on the basis of what looks best on the screen, or perhpas "intuitively," supposing that something might work differently in "live" perfomance. Some of my thoughts are about teaching, when, I might find it hard to "intuit" what students were understanding, or what the "vibe" of the class was for the students, because they were small figures in flat boxes, or because their "body language" and verbal/audible-to-me communication was different from what I would expect in "real-life."

The people on the other end feed me.

In general, I accept the notion that dance is a performance art, and if it is not for someone else who is in the room, it is a film. So the idea of online dance performances that are neither documents nor films is conceptually alarming to me to say the least. The most terrifying thing, however, about watching a performance online was realizing that one could skip the boring parts. Confession: I have been bored before in a (live, in- person) performance (I assume I was in some way part of the problem), but, in that context, I had no thought other than to remain at least physically present. It is part of the social context I uphold in the theatre. But, I was startled to realize that, when no one can see HOW one interacts with the performance, one becomes free to respond more authentically. For example, no one knows if one skips ahead. No one knows if one does something else at the same time. No one knows whether one is really paying attention. This realization was deeply unsettling for me. It challenges my very notion of what I seek for performance to be: a communication entered into with integrity by both parties. The assumption that I can trust my audience to attend in good faith is fundamental to my practice as a performer/creator. I am still processing what it means that one's engagement can be so different in the "solitary" context of attending virtually.

When I had the opportunity to teach online, it was for pre-professional students doing a technique class at York. I needed to remind myself of what I wanted to teach by dancing it beforehand. Each day, I ran the entire class once before meeting the students, and I did each exercise with the students at least once. This meant I was able to be present to the physical intricacies that I wanted to share. I found that recording class and recording all of the on-opn-one conversations gave me focus, and challenged me to be careful, and concise with my words. I also usually teach young children, and these classes are usually very play-focuused. I have yet to try to connect with young children online. PErhpas I should; perhpas it would be fun.

The few times I have had the opportunity to be in rehearsal online, I felt very able to be fully present. This was partly due to my delight at being involved in a creative process, and partly due to the open-mindedness and confidence of the choreographers leading the sessions, but, I also felt the social constraints of the medium (including but not limited to zoom enforced turn-taking) assisted me in the role of interpreter to stay focussed. These rehearsals were also short, only an hour, and, it was easy to focus my attention and maintain committment for the duration.