A dance made by socialising, by laughing and talking
By singing and remembering and searching for the thing that’s just out of memory
By thinking together
The sociality of a courtship, where being with others enhances the being-as-two
And where the being-as-two has to – no, there’s no will involved, it just does it, it just makes the other twos and threes and fours and the rest more twos and threes and fours and the rest
When I’m in my swing dance class
(I’ve been to three
To say it’s “mine” is a push (and a pull) (and a promise) as much as calling A Lyrical Dance Concert a social dance might be from a certain angle)
Anyway, when I’m in my swing dance class
I know which partners I prefer to dance with
I don’t know what the criteria are exactly
I just know
Something about height and confidence and hold and if I think they really don’t mind my sweatiness as opposed to just saying “mmm, it’s hot in here, isn’t it” not as a question but as a way to tell me they’re uncomfortable
I know which ones fit
Sara fits
Sara and I fit
We are an easy double act
One blonde one brown
One thin one fat
One sings one dances (sort of)
Same height, same shoes, same sometimes really problematically stupid sense of humour
And now Ellie will dance for Sara, who is making a new partner-in-crime in her body right now (wow)
That makes us three, sort of, and four, with Kit, our technician and stage-friend, and five, with Beckie, running about mainly via email making sure everything happens as it’s supposed to, doing the producer thing
But still two on stage really, two billed, two photographed for real and in mind’s eyes
Ellie and I also fit, but it’s a new fit, one practised not on stages or in studios but in pubs and kebab shops and playing really quite boring board games in my mum’s dining room once
One cropped one long
One thin one fat
Both sing both dance (sort of)
Same height, same hair colour, same sense of humour in a totally different way
But still the same sociality of two, two as making more, as multiplying
We need to check the fit (soon)
We will check the fit on the first night of the tour, and probably always thereafter
Checking that we want the same for the audience and from the audience
We also check the fit with the audience
We check how they’re sitting
Has anyone come alone?
We check what they’re drinking
What they’re saying
If they’re laughing
If they’re singing
And as we check we also test
How far to go? How quick?
We mustn’t lose them
It’s a risk
A sociality of expectation
A transaction
They pay, we are paid
They pay also with attention, and then pay again with participation
They pay for our attention right back, for our provocation, for our care that they have an experience that belongs only to this place and time and situation and no other, not really
We hope
We want
We want it to work how we want it to work
Of course
That depends on everyone present; the show cannot continue if nobody wants to come on stage to spin the mirrorball or if nobody wants to make a music video (for their eyes only)
Luckily an audience is not an audience but a bunch of people
A public
A mixed-up jumble (not that mixed-up, it is experimental performance after all)
So there’s always one or two who want to
Share a problem
Touch a body
Build a bridge
Fall in love
Help a ghost
Do any of the other stupid things we do in the name of conjuring alternative socialities
And having a laugh
So that the others can do what they want to do, which might be just being quiet and having a drink, maybe they’ve been dragged here by a friend, it’s someone’s birthday or they felt they had to come because they’ve heard about it and like me they think they need to know about all the performances happening at any given moment even though that’s impossible and results in misery
Anyway, there’s room for everyone and their doings
(Unless we sell out, which would be nice)
Oh, so democratic
Oh, oh, it’s so democratic
I wish that were the refrain of any of the songs we work with in the show
Unfortunately that hasn’t yet been a chorus of Mariah Carey or Tina Turner, each of whom have two numbers responding to their work
I’d love it
I love them
But no, instead we have touching and privacy and rivers and heroes from them, and loneliness and dancefloors and survival from the others
Each song’s lyrics driving the way that we can be together
Most often pulling out and twisting and shaking
Dancing
The threads, the gossamer-like threads, between the private and the social
Intimacies presented as public events
New friends made through disclosure and invitation, in the contexts of an evening out
Which is what this is, more than a show, or rather different, because if you just want to have a drink and a singalong that’s all alright by us
Take photos and tweet, we don’t care
It sounds easy
“Do what you want!”
But remember
We want
We want it to work how we want it to work
Of course
Which involves us being expert
I think we are expert, now
We have learned through trial and much error how to arrange matters, how to arrange materials, in order that there is a finesse to how we must offer these moments
And how we respond if you accept or reject or divert
I am fucking terrified of ‘participation’, in the way that I am terrified of attending the social bits of conferences or festivals or whatever if I don’t know definitely for sure no doubt I’m going to have a known person to stand and talk to or dance with
But here the relationship is clear
It’s like in my swing dance class (not really mine), we are the lead and you are the follow
We are engaged in a collaboration
An improvised collaboration
But we provide the form, we offer direction
And you are the virtuoso with the kicks and flicks
With the power to change shape and direction and surprise us
And we will go with you if you go with us
We will catch you
You can trust us
A Lyrical Dance Concert by Gillie Kleiman and Sara Lindstrom, performed by Gillie and Eleanor Sikorski, is on tour from 5th November 2014 to the end of February 2015.
