Night & Day

Our show will happen 9 times during the TBA festival.

8 of those will be in daylight; one will be at night.

Part of the show will occur on the patio at the discovery center, a super interesting concrete space with a fireplace, a large wall, and a stunning view over that wall at the skyline of the South Waterfront.

As we have been exploring the physical possibilities of this area, and how to play with motion in relation to City, and vision, and connection/disconnection, we have been struck by how beautiful the patio playing area is at night.

The movement becomes a series of silhouettes.
Mystery suffuses the smallest gesture.
Everything is heightened.

And this is, in a large way, a misdirection.
A trap.

Because at the end of this event, we want what the poetic has to offer, but, there is also something very basic, very hands on, very...daily about the choices and complications that planning community entails.

And, most of the performances will be in the daytime.
When the way we view that outer area is filled with much less mystery.

Since we rehearse mostly at night, its an interesting dilemma of tone. We want to work and create within the environment of the moment. But, we have to of course account for the moment in which we will meet and engage our audience.

And so I've been wondering- what does the light of day demand that the dark of night allows to remain beneath the surface. When you can't see faces, just bodies. When you can't make out surroundings, but can just glimpse the dance itself.

And, for that one nighttime performance, what will we gain in visual power, and what might we lose in the banality of flesh on sidewalks...

How does a city differ at noon and at midnight?
Any thoughts?