ShadowPlace
a performance installation
March 3, 10, & 17, 7:00pm.
The Photobooth on Montrose (on the corner of Westheimer and Montrose)
Support our Indiegogo campaign!
I'm writing this short over the noon hour on a Saturday. I'm getting things ready for tonight's rehearsal---yes we're rehearsing on a Saturday evening because this group of performers is just that busy. It's a little shocking that they're not performing tonight. I guess I caught them between gigs.
On the Breath & Bone Facebook page (go "like" us!), under the "About" link, I've said:
Breath & Bone will be a loose
affiliation of creative people who will be artists in their own right,
be affiliated with other performance companies, or have their own
companies; artists will therefore be variously committed to Breath &
Bone, according to the current project in production. Artists who wish
to affiliate primarily with Breath & Bone will be encouraged to seek
out other opportunities as well. In this way, we are all trained and
cross-trained by the whole Houston arts community.
This group of artists exemplifies this ethos to a large extent. Michael Simmonds lists himself as an artist and musician---and he's the participant I know the least about but hope to find out more after we complete this project. We have several dancers and choreographers with Cassandra Shaffer-Permenter, Donna Meadows (both worked with me on Jill Alexander Essbaum's Necropolis during my HopeWerks Residency), and Laura Gutierrez. Shanon Adams is all over the place lately, in dance, performance art, and theater circles (a woman after my own heart, really). Ashley Horn directed me in her dance film Wanderland and and now she's performing as well as making costume pieces for me on ShadowPlace. She's another one of those multi-disciplinary people to whom I gravitate: dancer, choreographer, filmmaker, costumer . . . and she was just this week featured in the Houston Press's 100 Creatives feature. And finally, a big part of ShadowPlace are these rather big fabric screens, which are being made by fiber artist Sari Frey (who has also had a long career in the Houston Grand Opera's chorus).
I hope in our collaboration we all learn from each other and take a little bit of each other to our next project. That's how artmaking is transmitted, it seems to me.
Now, to click "publish" and get on with the tasks at hand for the rehearsal . . . busy busy busy . . .
This is going to be beautiful. I hope you'll join us for it.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
ShadowPlace Origins
ShadowPlace
a performance installation
March 3, 10, & 17, 7:00pm.
The Photobooth on Montrose (on the corner of Westheimer and Montrose)
Every idea starts somewhere. ShadowPlace started over two years ago.
I first started imagining a performance installation with large pieces of fabric and light and shadow almost 3 years ago. The church to which I belonged at the time had a worship space with movable seating, something that I wanted to play with. I pictured these screens with people holding candles in the darkened nave, their shadows thrown on fabric that was translucent enough for the shadow to be seen on the other side. Two people would walk around the screens, catching glimpses of the other shadows, but not seeing "face to face," to use a Pauline phrase. In this initial idea, the fabric was stationary. I imagined this to take place before the Wednesday night lenten services, as something that was simply going on as people gathered for the prayer service. Each week, I'd arrange the nave's seating differently, the screens in different configurations.
When I proposed this to the worship committee, it was decided it was a bad time for it, or it was deemed too unusual---both comments were made, so I'm not sure which it was precisely, maybe both. But at any rate, it didn't get performed in that space.
But the idea stayed in my head. And grew. I started seeing the screens move as well as the people with the candles. I started looking for other sites where this might be performed.
The Photobooth on Montrose has emerged, in the last year or more, as a place for the small art event. I eventually approached Simon Gentry, the photographer and proprietor of the Photobooth, about doing it there. He seemed excited about the meditative nature of the piece.
In translating it from a sacred space to a secular space---really a business space---opened up some possibilities for me. I felt less constrained to think it through too much, I was free to let the piece present its own meaning rather than my putting meaning on it. In short, I'm allowing this piece about being in an ambiguous place to have its own ambiguity.
This excites me. I think it allows for people of many religious traditions---or no religious traditions---to enter into the experience of shadows moving, light shining, people seeking, screens separating . . .
I hope you can come see it, watch it for at least 10 minutes---it's a come-and-go affair, by the way---and then tell me what you see in it.
a performance installation
March 3, 10, & 17, 7:00pm.
The Photobooth on Montrose (on the corner of Westheimer and Montrose)
Every idea starts somewhere. ShadowPlace started over two years ago.
I first started imagining a performance installation with large pieces of fabric and light and shadow almost 3 years ago. The church to which I belonged at the time had a worship space with movable seating, something that I wanted to play with. I pictured these screens with people holding candles in the darkened nave, their shadows thrown on fabric that was translucent enough for the shadow to be seen on the other side. Two people would walk around the screens, catching glimpses of the other shadows, but not seeing "face to face," to use a Pauline phrase. In this initial idea, the fabric was stationary. I imagined this to take place before the Wednesday night lenten services, as something that was simply going on as people gathered for the prayer service. Each week, I'd arrange the nave's seating differently, the screens in different configurations.
When I proposed this to the worship committee, it was decided it was a bad time for it, or it was deemed too unusual---both comments were made, so I'm not sure which it was precisely, maybe both. But at any rate, it didn't get performed in that space.
But the idea stayed in my head. And grew. I started seeing the screens move as well as the people with the candles. I started looking for other sites where this might be performed.
The Photobooth on Montrose has emerged, in the last year or more, as a place for the small art event. I eventually approached Simon Gentry, the photographer and proprietor of the Photobooth, about doing it there. He seemed excited about the meditative nature of the piece.
In translating it from a sacred space to a secular space---really a business space---opened up some possibilities for me. I felt less constrained to think it through too much, I was free to let the piece present its own meaning rather than my putting meaning on it. In short, I'm allowing this piece about being in an ambiguous place to have its own ambiguity.
This excites me. I think it allows for people of many religious traditions---or no religious traditions---to enter into the experience of shadows moving, light shining, people seeking, screens separating . . .
I hope you can come see it, watch it for at least 10 minutes---it's a come-and-go affair, by the way---and then tell me what you see in it.
* * * * * * * * * *
I might mention, briefly, that we are not using candles. I love candles, I think they throw amazing shadows. I also think open flame next to light fabric is a bad combination.
Last summer, as I was working at one of my occasional gigs as a dance writer at a NobleMotion Dance concert, I saw a section of dance that found all the dancers holding these small lights---which threw awesome shadows!
"THOSE!" I thought loudly in my brain, "I NEED THOSE!"
So a week or two later, I contacted the lighting deisgner, David J Deveau, and found out what THOSE! were.
It's all about paying attention to what's around you . . .
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
ShadowPlace
First of all, if you're in Houston, take note of these dates:
March 3, 10, & 17, 7:00pm.
The Photobooth on Montrose (on the corner of Westheimer and Montrose)
For one hour, for three consecutive Sundays, Breath & Bone/Orts Performance will be in the Photobooth, moving large screens of fabric and carrying lights, offering a meditative performance installation. The theme is watching, waiting, keeping vigil, hoping . . . the medium is light, shadow, and fabric. It's going to be a quiet hour. And beautiful.
We're also running a small fundraising campaign so the performers all get a little pocket money for their time, talent, and skill. We're using Indiegogo. If you can spare as little as $10, it'll go a long way to helping us bring this contemplative hour to a busy corner of the Montrose neighborhood. Go here to contribute.
Over the next few days, I'll be sharing the history of this project (I've been wanting to do it for at least two years) and telling you about the great collaborators. For now, I hope you'll put it on your calendar, maybe go like our Facebook page and visit the Facebook event page.
March 3, 10, & 17, 7:00pm.
The Photobooth on Montrose (on the corner of Westheimer and Montrose)
For one hour, for three consecutive Sundays, Breath & Bone/Orts Performance will be in the Photobooth, moving large screens of fabric and carrying lights, offering a meditative performance installation. The theme is watching, waiting, keeping vigil, hoping . . . the medium is light, shadow, and fabric. It's going to be a quiet hour. And beautiful.
We're also running a small fundraising campaign so the performers all get a little pocket money for their time, talent, and skill. We're using Indiegogo. If you can spare as little as $10, it'll go a long way to helping us bring this contemplative hour to a busy corner of the Montrose neighborhood. Go here to contribute.
Over the next few days, I'll be sharing the history of this project (I've been wanting to do it for at least two years) and telling you about the great collaborators. For now, I hope you'll put it on your calendar, maybe go like our Facebook page and visit the Facebook event page.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Evoluntion of a Piece
Last night (Friday, January 18, 2013), I participated in a performance art event at Avant Garden and created/curated by CONTINUUM. They are currently in the middle of a residency at Avant Garden, with monthly performance showcases and workshops.
I attended their last workshop, wherein we were guided through exercises and eventually created "rituals" (broadly defined). I created a very brief piece that I called "The Liturgy of the Other."
That seemed to be enough to present something at this month's live art event. With little more than a week to come up with something, I revisited a piece that I had never actually completed: "Watch How You Watch (or: what do you see when you see yourself seeing?)."
"Watch How You Watch" was first presented in connection to a Fieldwork Showcase in November of 2011. It was a duet and Denise Wilborn joined me in the performance. We set it up as an installation in the lobby so that it was going on as the audience entered. It looked like this:
We were dressed in loose, flowing clothes, in a fully lit lobby, with only tape on the floor (with the name of the piece written on the tape) to demarcate the performance space. I had intended to hang strands of small mirror tiles from above to further demarcate our space, but ended up with time to only hang two round mirrors on either side of the square. They are pretty well invisible in this photo.
The Avant Garden, solo version of this piece looked like this:
Here, I'm in rags---a torn shirt, jaggedly cut off pants---and while you can't see it in this photo, around 50 small, round mirror tiles taped to my face and body (about 20 of which fell off during the performance). I got a few more mirrors suspended from the doorways to this small, mostly enclosed space on the second floor of Avant Garden, which the photographer placed in the foreground here. Here's another view wherein you can see some of the mirrors on me:
So, I hope these photos demonstrate that the two iterations were visually quite different. Still, I chose to call them by the same title.
At the base of the piece is the movement meditation that I have used with a couple of groups and that I try to do, however briefly before any performance. I call this meditation/practice "practicing resurrection." It's something I've come up with by stealing from a few people along the way, but I've "baptized" it with a bit of Christian story into it. Briefly, the questions underneath the meditation is, "what if my body were resurrected, awake, fully renewed? What if my presence extended beyond this physical body while maintaining its seat and being in this physical body?" In answer to these questions (and a few others I might ask along the way), I move, trying to follow the impulse of my body, in response to stimuli around me.
In the process of doing this meditation, I began wondering about the performative possibilities of it, that is, the performing it for viewers as well for participants. That it was purely improvisation, and improvisation of the most impulsive, unplanned, pretty much unstructured kind, I wasn't sure what the point was.
Then I recalled Bill T. Jones, in a post-performance talk-back, telling an audience member (and I believe he was quoting someone else, but I don't recall who) that the best way to look at modern art is to look at yourself looking at modern art. That is to say, what are your responses to the work? Are you intrigued? Why do you think that is? Are you dismissive or judgmental? Explore that. Etc.
So I decided to present this mediation, this exercise in new life and scars and eternity, as a performance, not because I thought people would "get" all that was behind the meditation, but as an attempt to start a conversation with its title. I admit this becomes something of a confrontational piece---but again, I'm not sure people will "get" that from watching.
Honestly, I don't know what people get from looking at it. I'm curious about that, but not my purpose just this moment.
Underneath all this is also my theological presupposition that we're all made in the Image of God, that the human body is intrinsically beauty, bearing the beauty of God, and the human body in motion, animated by the breath of life, is pretty close to exploring the movement of God among us.
So in the first iteration of "Watch How You Watch," I focused on beauty, of showing people that we are beautiful creatures and so I had us dressed in such a way as to enhance the beauty of the body in motion---flowing costumes that also, at time, clung to us and billowed out from us.
For the context of the CONTINUUM showing, I knew I wanted to take it in a little different direction. I hit upon the idea of putting mirrors on my body so that not only could an audience member look in the hanging mirrors to "see what they see when they see themselves seeing," but also so that my own body might reflect the viewer as well. I knew this would require baring more skin. Baring more skin would also add the layer of looking at my overweight, not magazine-cover-ideal body---asking the audience to reflect on what they see when they see themselves seeing a body that is, frankly, hairier than popular media like to admit humans can be (or if they admit to it, it's ridiculed).
To this end, I briefly toyed with the idea of simply being naked. I often joke that it's inevitable that I'll at some point be naked in a public space, but I also am not into nudity without careful consideration of it, not in a society that has a wide range of responses to nudity. In this North American culture, being naked too often becomes primarily about being naked---and this piece isn't about that.
I considered just wearing the billowy pants, going topless, as it were. This also didn't exactly sit well with me. The pants alone could evoke a martial arts practitioner. Adding a T-shirt or tank top seemed too casual. I wondered if I might find a vest somewhere quickly and cheaply.
Then I thought about rags. It was a bit of a jump from "vest" to "rags," but that was the sequence. I found a pair of slacks with a worn-out knee and a shirt with a threadbare collar, and commenced to cut and tear into them.
The result looked more castaway-cum-Doc Savage, than, say, homeless person, but it was definitely not "pretty." Asking people to look at rags while also reflecting their reactions back to them . . . well, this intrigued me. It felt like the piece now had a new level that the first version hadn't even considered. I felt very good about the evolution to this point, at least for the CONTINUUM/Avant Garden iteration of the piece.
I'd like to keep this performance in my back pocket, so to speak, have it as a piece to pull out at a moment's notice/opportunity. But this experience has opened my eyes to how I might be open to context and morph the piece according.
I think there are possibilities for this piece to continue to grow and change, both as a solo piece and as a group piece. I hope it's sooner than an a year before I revisit this piece.
(To that end, I should say that if you might want "Watch How You Watch" as part of some event---I can see it as a pre-show/lobby presentation before a theatrical event or as a durational piece going on during a party or other gathering---please feel free to contact me at neilellisorts (at) yahoo (dot) com. That goes equally if you have a workshop or retreat that might benefit from an hour or so of "Practicing Resurrection.")
I attended their last workshop, wherein we were guided through exercises and eventually created "rituals" (broadly defined). I created a very brief piece that I called "The Liturgy of the Other."
That seemed to be enough to present something at this month's live art event. With little more than a week to come up with something, I revisited a piece that I had never actually completed: "Watch How You Watch (or: what do you see when you see yourself seeing?)."
"Watch How You Watch" was first presented in connection to a Fieldwork Showcase in November of 2011. It was a duet and Denise Wilborn joined me in the performance. We set it up as an installation in the lobby so that it was going on as the audience entered. It looked like this:
We were dressed in loose, flowing clothes, in a fully lit lobby, with only tape on the floor (with the name of the piece written on the tape) to demarcate the performance space. I had intended to hang strands of small mirror tiles from above to further demarcate our space, but ended up with time to only hang two round mirrors on either side of the square. They are pretty well invisible in this photo.
The Avant Garden, solo version of this piece looked like this:
 | |
| photo by Hilary Scullane |
 |
| photo by Hilary Scullane |
So, I hope these photos demonstrate that the two iterations were visually quite different. Still, I chose to call them by the same title.
At the base of the piece is the movement meditation that I have used with a couple of groups and that I try to do, however briefly before any performance. I call this meditation/practice "practicing resurrection." It's something I've come up with by stealing from a few people along the way, but I've "baptized" it with a bit of Christian story into it. Briefly, the questions underneath the meditation is, "what if my body were resurrected, awake, fully renewed? What if my presence extended beyond this physical body while maintaining its seat and being in this physical body?" In answer to these questions (and a few others I might ask along the way), I move, trying to follow the impulse of my body, in response to stimuli around me.
In the process of doing this meditation, I began wondering about the performative possibilities of it, that is, the performing it for viewers as well for participants. That it was purely improvisation, and improvisation of the most impulsive, unplanned, pretty much unstructured kind, I wasn't sure what the point was.
Then I recalled Bill T. Jones, in a post-performance talk-back, telling an audience member (and I believe he was quoting someone else, but I don't recall who) that the best way to look at modern art is to look at yourself looking at modern art. That is to say, what are your responses to the work? Are you intrigued? Why do you think that is? Are you dismissive or judgmental? Explore that. Etc.
So I decided to present this mediation, this exercise in new life and scars and eternity, as a performance, not because I thought people would "get" all that was behind the meditation, but as an attempt to start a conversation with its title. I admit this becomes something of a confrontational piece---but again, I'm not sure people will "get" that from watching.
Honestly, I don't know what people get from looking at it. I'm curious about that, but not my purpose just this moment.
Underneath all this is also my theological presupposition that we're all made in the Image of God, that the human body is intrinsically beauty, bearing the beauty of God, and the human body in motion, animated by the breath of life, is pretty close to exploring the movement of God among us.
So in the first iteration of "Watch How You Watch," I focused on beauty, of showing people that we are beautiful creatures and so I had us dressed in such a way as to enhance the beauty of the body in motion---flowing costumes that also, at time, clung to us and billowed out from us.
For the context of the CONTINUUM showing, I knew I wanted to take it in a little different direction. I hit upon the idea of putting mirrors on my body so that not only could an audience member look in the hanging mirrors to "see what they see when they see themselves seeing," but also so that my own body might reflect the viewer as well. I knew this would require baring more skin. Baring more skin would also add the layer of looking at my overweight, not magazine-cover-ideal body---asking the audience to reflect on what they see when they see themselves seeing a body that is, frankly, hairier than popular media like to admit humans can be (or if they admit to it, it's ridiculed).
To this end, I briefly toyed with the idea of simply being naked. I often joke that it's inevitable that I'll at some point be naked in a public space, but I also am not into nudity without careful consideration of it, not in a society that has a wide range of responses to nudity. In this North American culture, being naked too often becomes primarily about being naked---and this piece isn't about that.
I considered just wearing the billowy pants, going topless, as it were. This also didn't exactly sit well with me. The pants alone could evoke a martial arts practitioner. Adding a T-shirt or tank top seemed too casual. I wondered if I might find a vest somewhere quickly and cheaply.
Then I thought about rags. It was a bit of a jump from "vest" to "rags," but that was the sequence. I found a pair of slacks with a worn-out knee and a shirt with a threadbare collar, and commenced to cut and tear into them.
The result looked more castaway-cum-Doc Savage, than, say, homeless person, but it was definitely not "pretty." Asking people to look at rags while also reflecting their reactions back to them . . . well, this intrigued me. It felt like the piece now had a new level that the first version hadn't even considered. I felt very good about the evolution to this point, at least for the CONTINUUM/Avant Garden iteration of the piece.
I'd like to keep this performance in my back pocket, so to speak, have it as a piece to pull out at a moment's notice/opportunity. But this experience has opened my eyes to how I might be open to context and morph the piece according.
I think there are possibilities for this piece to continue to grow and change, both as a solo piece and as a group piece. I hope it's sooner than an a year before I revisit this piece.
(To that end, I should say that if you might want "Watch How You Watch" as part of some event---I can see it as a pre-show/lobby presentation before a theatrical event or as a durational piece going on during a party or other gathering---please feel free to contact me at neilellisorts (at) yahoo (dot) com. That goes equally if you have a workshop or retreat that might benefit from an hour or so of "Practicing Resurrection.")
Monday, December 31, 2012
Tooting My Own Horn on NYE
As we close out 2012 in a few hours, I just spent an hour or so
putting together a CV of my writing and performing from the past year. I
often feel lazy and unproductive so doing something like this is a good
exercise to remind myself that I did do something this year.
(Add to it the fact that all this was accomplished around a full time
day job and I feel a little better about myself.)
The biggest thing for this year was that I started talking about Breath & Bone/Orts Performance as an actual, forming (and re-forming) entity. Hopefully, next year if I do this, there will be more than just two entries that note BB/OP as the company behind an event.
This list also highlights my array of obsessions. Dance, comics, religion . . . yep, it's pretty much all there, often with an LGBT flavor (thanks to OutSmart Magazine). Where I could, I included web addresses. (I'm copying and pasting this from a word processor, so I didn't do the hot link thingie this time. Hope it all still works.)
Needless to say, posting this is also to let whoever might see this know what I do, my interests, and that I'm always looking to do more . . .
Without further ado, my 2012 CV:
January
PUBLISHED (COMPETITION WON) "Always June," DiverseWorks Slinging Ink fall 2011 competition. http://diverseworks.org/2011/slinging-ink-online-fall-2011-%E2%80%9Calways-june%E2%80%9D-neil-ellis-orts/
February
DIRECTED Staged Reading of When the Stars and Moon Collide, a one act play by John Cash Carpenter for Unhinged Productions' DramaRamaThon, February 2, 11
PERFORMED is/not a performance loop for The Art of Sacrifice, a lenten art show at St Stephen's Episcopal Havens Center, February 24-26.
March
PUBLISHED "The Little Dog Laughs" (profile of Brazos Bookstore) in Arts + Culture Houston
http://artsandculturehouston.com/the-little-dog-laughs/
April
PUBLISHED "Shepherd to Homeless Sheep" (interview with the Rev. Megan Rohrer) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/04/shepherd-to-homeless-sheep/
PERFORMED: "All the Ways" (original song/chant) at the Houston Fieldwork Showcase, April 15.
May
PUBLISHED Review for CORE's In the Mood 2 . . . Dance! on Dance Source Houston http://www.dancesourcehouston.org/Writings/20112012Season/42012COREsIntheMood2Dance.aspx
PUBLISHED "Kevin Keller Conquers Comics" (interview with Dan Parent) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/05/kevin-keller-conquers-comics/
PUBLISHED "Hologramps to the Next Generation" (part one of an interview with George Takei–-web exclusive posted May 15) for OutSmart Magazine
http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/05/hologramps-to-the-next-generation-an-interview-with-george-takei/
June
PUBLISHED "Internment Camps and Other Musical Ideas" (part two of an interview with George Takei) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/06/internment-camps-and-other-musical-ideas/
PUBLISHED "Called to Break Rules" (interview with the Rev Amy DeLong) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/06/called-to-break-rules/
PUBLISHED "The Three Beginnings of a Texas Poet Laureate" (profile of David M. Parsons) web exclusive on Arts + Culture Houston http://artsandculturehouston.com/the-three-beginnings-of-a-texas-poet-laureate/
July
PERFORMED in reading of Wolf Cry Wolf by Kevin Kautzman (Production Assistant; read stage directions and provided sound effects) New American Voices Play Reading Series, Landing Theatre Company
August
PUBLISHED "The Adults Around" in Letters to My Bully, edited by Ifalde Ta'Shia Asanti and Azaan Kamau
September
PUBLISHED Review of NobleMotion Dance and David J. Deveau's Spitting Ether on Dance Source Houston http://www.dancesourcehouston.org/Writings/20122013Season/83112NobleMotionSpittingEther.aspx
October
PUBLISHED "Transposing to the Key of Queer" (interview with Dylan Edwards) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/10/transposing-to-the-key-of-queer/
PUBLISHED "A Blessing Ceremony for Same-Gender Relationships" (interview with the Rev. Lisa Hunt) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/10/a-blessing-ceremony-for-same-gender-relationships/
PERFORMED in Wanderland a dance for film by Ashley Horn, opened October 12, 14 Pews
PERFORMED in Richmond Hall a site specific performance by Deborah Hay, Richmond Hall, The Menil Collection, October 13
PUBLISHED Review of Vault's Thread in Dance Source Houston http://www.dancesourcehouston.org/Writings/20122013Season/101912VauLtDanceCompanyThread.aspx
November
PUBLISHED "A Texan, A Japanese, and a Missippian Walk into a Dance Studio" (profile of Jesus Acosta, Shohei Iwahama, and Nick Nesmith) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/11/a-texan-a-japanese-and-a-mississippian-walk-into-a-dance-studio/
DIRECTED/PERFORMED in Jill Alexander Essbaum's Necropolis as part of Questions and Declarations (performance ending a HopeWerks Residency at Hope Stone Studios) November 16, 17, 18 (Breath & Bone/Orts Performance)
PUBLISHED "Five Degrees of Separation Diverging from One Commonality" in Blue Rock Review (reading presented at Blue Rock Studio, November 24)
December
PRESENTED Long Night, Joyous Light: A Winter Solstice Happening, St. Stephen's Episcopal Church and surrounding neighborhood, December 21 (Breath & Bone/Orts Performance)
The biggest thing for this year was that I started talking about Breath & Bone/Orts Performance as an actual, forming (and re-forming) entity. Hopefully, next year if I do this, there will be more than just two entries that note BB/OP as the company behind an event.
This list also highlights my array of obsessions. Dance, comics, religion . . . yep, it's pretty much all there, often with an LGBT flavor (thanks to OutSmart Magazine). Where I could, I included web addresses. (I'm copying and pasting this from a word processor, so I didn't do the hot link thingie this time. Hope it all still works.)
Needless to say, posting this is also to let whoever might see this know what I do, my interests, and that I'm always looking to do more . . .
Without further ado, my 2012 CV:
January
PUBLISHED (COMPETITION WON) "Always June," DiverseWorks Slinging Ink fall 2011 competition. http://diverseworks.org/2011/slinging-ink-online-fall-2011-%E2%80%9Calways-june%E2%80%9D-neil-ellis-orts/
February
DIRECTED Staged Reading of When the Stars and Moon Collide, a one act play by John Cash Carpenter for Unhinged Productions' DramaRamaThon, February 2, 11
PERFORMED is/not a performance loop for The Art of Sacrifice, a lenten art show at St Stephen's Episcopal Havens Center, February 24-26.
March
PUBLISHED "The Little Dog Laughs" (profile of Brazos Bookstore) in Arts + Culture Houston
http://artsandculturehouston.com/the-little-dog-laughs/
April
PUBLISHED "Shepherd to Homeless Sheep" (interview with the Rev. Megan Rohrer) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/04/shepherd-to-homeless-sheep/
PERFORMED: "All the Ways" (original song/chant) at the Houston Fieldwork Showcase, April 15.
May
PUBLISHED Review for CORE's In the Mood 2 . . . Dance! on Dance Source Houston http://www.dancesourcehouston.org/Writings/20112012Season/42012COREsIntheMood2Dance.aspx
PUBLISHED "Kevin Keller Conquers Comics" (interview with Dan Parent) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/05/kevin-keller-conquers-comics/
PUBLISHED "Hologramps to the Next Generation" (part one of an interview with George Takei–-web exclusive posted May 15) for OutSmart Magazine
http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/05/hologramps-to-the-next-generation-an-interview-with-george-takei/
June
PUBLISHED "Internment Camps and Other Musical Ideas" (part two of an interview with George Takei) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/06/internment-camps-and-other-musical-ideas/
PUBLISHED "Called to Break Rules" (interview with the Rev Amy DeLong) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/06/called-to-break-rules/
PUBLISHED "The Three Beginnings of a Texas Poet Laureate" (profile of David M. Parsons) web exclusive on Arts + Culture Houston http://artsandculturehouston.com/the-three-beginnings-of-a-texas-poet-laureate/
July
PERFORMED in reading of Wolf Cry Wolf by Kevin Kautzman (Production Assistant; read stage directions and provided sound effects) New American Voices Play Reading Series, Landing Theatre Company
August
PUBLISHED "The Adults Around" in Letters to My Bully, edited by Ifalde Ta'Shia Asanti and Azaan Kamau
September
PUBLISHED Review of NobleMotion Dance and David J. Deveau's Spitting Ether on Dance Source Houston http://www.dancesourcehouston.org/Writings/20122013Season/83112NobleMotionSpittingEther.aspx
October
PUBLISHED "Transposing to the Key of Queer" (interview with Dylan Edwards) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/10/transposing-to-the-key-of-queer/
PUBLISHED "A Blessing Ceremony for Same-Gender Relationships" (interview with the Rev. Lisa Hunt) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/10/a-blessing-ceremony-for-same-gender-relationships/
PERFORMED in Wanderland a dance for film by Ashley Horn, opened October 12, 14 Pews
PERFORMED in Richmond Hall a site specific performance by Deborah Hay, Richmond Hall, The Menil Collection, October 13
PUBLISHED Review of Vault's Thread in Dance Source Houston http://www.dancesourcehouston.org/Writings/20122013Season/101912VauLtDanceCompanyThread.aspx
November
PUBLISHED "A Texan, A Japanese, and a Missippian Walk into a Dance Studio" (profile of Jesus Acosta, Shohei Iwahama, and Nick Nesmith) in OutSmart Magazine http://outsmartmagazine.com/2012/11/a-texan-a-japanese-and-a-mississippian-walk-into-a-dance-studio/
DIRECTED/PERFORMED in Jill Alexander Essbaum's Necropolis as part of Questions and Declarations (performance ending a HopeWerks Residency at Hope Stone Studios) November 16, 17, 18 (Breath & Bone/Orts Performance)
PUBLISHED "Five Degrees of Separation Diverging from One Commonality" in Blue Rock Review (reading presented at Blue Rock Studio, November 24)
December
PRESENTED Long Night, Joyous Light: A Winter Solstice Happening, St. Stephen's Episcopal Church and surrounding neighborhood, December 21 (Breath & Bone/Orts Performance)
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Long Night, Joyous Light: A Winter Solstice Happening
This began as a desire to do something performancey without a lot of planning, that would be fun for participants and be easy for non-performer participation. I thought, "aha! A Happening!"
So here's the deal. On Friday, December 21st, we're going to gather at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Houston's Montrose neighborhood (corner of Alabama and Woodhead) at 7:00pm. Everyone will bring flashlights and glow sticks and other light-making thingies (although no open-flame thingies---safety first!). By 7:15, we'll head out into the night, en masse, and take our light out into the surrounding neighborhood. We're not caroling or anything like that, just taking an evening stroll with our lights shining on the longest night of the year. People can visit as they walk, or dance about making swirly light trails with their flashlights---well, it's just best not to plan too much. Part of the fun of a Happening is that you don't plan it, you let it happen.
Well, except that I will have a route planned out, to try to avoid the common dangers of Houston's sidewalks. We'll keep within the perimeters of Shepherd, Richmond, and Alabama, so we don't cross any major traffic (safety first!). I want families to feel safe bringing children along---it's a family-friendly sort of Happening!
(If "Happening" is a new term for you, Wikipedia has a pretty good article on them. As you'll learn, we're going to be one of the tamer Happenings in Happening history, but that's okay. It's going to be fun anyway.)
I'll make up some small flyers for a few of us to carry so that if we get asked what we're doing, we can hand out a brief explanation---and invite them to join us!
After we walk for 45 minutes to an hour, we'll be back at St. Stephen's for cookies and wassail or something like that. Hopefully, we'll have people from various circles and we can visit and get to know one another, expand our community connections a bit.
So, in brief:
Bring light making objects and, if you can, some cookies or other snacks to share.
Arrive at 7:00pm.
Locatoin: St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, 1805 W. Alabama, 77098.
Be ready to have fun. It's just that simple.
Additional information: Filmmaker Ashley Horn has asked to film this event with the intention of turning it into a short film. So, you get to be a movie star as well as bringing light to one neighborhood. And if you're camera shy, we'll work out something so that maybe there's a section of the group that sticks together and Ashley won't point her camera in that direction.
Also, for those of you who are the praying type and want a religious dimension to the evening, St. Stephen's will be having an Evening Prayer or Vespers service at 6:00pm. It's a brief, ancient service that acknowledges the setting sun and might be an added dimension to the evening. But no pressure---if you'd rather not, just show up at 7:00 for the stroll!
If you can, please let me know you're coming, either in the comments below, on the Facebook event page, or by emailing me at neilellisorts (at) yahoo (dot) com. If it gets to a certain size, we may split up into two groups that head off into separate directions.
Also feel free to ask questions via any of those means.
We're not cursing the darkness! We're getting our glow on!
So here's the deal. On Friday, December 21st, we're going to gather at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Houston's Montrose neighborhood (corner of Alabama and Woodhead) at 7:00pm. Everyone will bring flashlights and glow sticks and other light-making thingies (although no open-flame thingies---safety first!). By 7:15, we'll head out into the night, en masse, and take our light out into the surrounding neighborhood. We're not caroling or anything like that, just taking an evening stroll with our lights shining on the longest night of the year. People can visit as they walk, or dance about making swirly light trails with their flashlights---well, it's just best not to plan too much. Part of the fun of a Happening is that you don't plan it, you let it happen.
Well, except that I will have a route planned out, to try to avoid the common dangers of Houston's sidewalks. We'll keep within the perimeters of Shepherd, Richmond, and Alabama, so we don't cross any major traffic (safety first!). I want families to feel safe bringing children along---it's a family-friendly sort of Happening!
(If "Happening" is a new term for you, Wikipedia has a pretty good article on them. As you'll learn, we're going to be one of the tamer Happenings in Happening history, but that's okay. It's going to be fun anyway.)
I'll make up some small flyers for a few of us to carry so that if we get asked what we're doing, we can hand out a brief explanation---and invite them to join us!
After we walk for 45 minutes to an hour, we'll be back at St. Stephen's for cookies and wassail or something like that. Hopefully, we'll have people from various circles and we can visit and get to know one another, expand our community connections a bit.
So, in brief:
Bring light making objects and, if you can, some cookies or other snacks to share.
Arrive at 7:00pm.
Locatoin: St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, 1805 W. Alabama, 77098.
Be ready to have fun. It's just that simple.
Additional information: Filmmaker Ashley Horn has asked to film this event with the intention of turning it into a short film. So, you get to be a movie star as well as bringing light to one neighborhood. And if you're camera shy, we'll work out something so that maybe there's a section of the group that sticks together and Ashley won't point her camera in that direction.
Also, for those of you who are the praying type and want a religious dimension to the evening, St. Stephen's will be having an Evening Prayer or Vespers service at 6:00pm. It's a brief, ancient service that acknowledges the setting sun and might be an added dimension to the evening. But no pressure---if you'd rather not, just show up at 7:00 for the stroll!
If you can, please let me know you're coming, either in the comments below, on the Facebook event page, or by emailing me at neilellisorts (at) yahoo (dot) com. If it gets to a certain size, we may split up into two groups that head off into separate directions.
Also feel free to ask questions via any of those means.
We're not cursing the darkness! We're getting our glow on!
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Not Exactly Out of Nothing But . . .
The age-old question for artists of all kinds has been, "where do your ideas come from?"
And then there's the follow-up: "how did you make that?"
Frankly, I'm more interested in the follow-up. I'm a process person and I love seeing/hearing how artists go about fulfilling their vision(s).
So you'd think I'd have some sort of understanding of my own process, would have paid more attention to how I go about things. But when I'm in the actual act of making something, I'm sort of in the act of making something and not paying attention to process.
As I made the recent performance out of eight poems by Jill Alexander Essbaum, this is highlighted for me by two events.
One was early in the rehearsal process. I worked a lone for a few weeks, moving about an empty space (either at Hope Stone Studios, where I had my HopeWerks Residency, or at at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, where I was graced with additional rehearsal space) and deciding how I wanted a particular poem to move, what shape or floor plan I wanted it to take. This was primarily an intuitive process, I think. Even 25 years ago, when I was directing my first plays, I made decisions about blocking fairly quickly and while I might veer off from the initial plan when I see something isn't working in rehearsal (or an actor is bringing something to the performance that requires a different pattern or I see a better picture to make with the actual bodies in space), once I set blocking, it's fairly well set. For better or worse.
When I set the last piece on my performers (of which I was one, which skews the process some, since I can't actually see the pictures I'm making), I found myself pondering my own process. On my bus ride home, I remember thinking, "How did I do that? There once was nothing, now there's this floor pattern and other movement that these performers didn't do. Did I make that? How? When?" I had a moment of wonder about that. I think I could reconstruct the steps and choices, but only with difficulty. My own process was obscure to me.
The second event was really a couple of events but the same one repeated. One was when Donna Meadows and I appeared on the local radio program, The Front Row. The interviewer, Catherine Lu, asked me how does one go about adapting poetry to the stage. It was a question that caught me off guard. I sort of stammered, "I don't know." That question was asked again at the after-show talk-backs. I was no more prepared to answer it. I think behind that question is some kind of surprise that one would attempt this, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the first to do it.
Again, I think I can reconstruct some of the steps in choices, some of which go back to when I first read these poems and saw images on a stage. Those images have been there a while and mostly, I just had to adjust them for the type of performance space we had. And I blocked out a floor pattern/path, and I figured out what pictures I wanted to make, and suddenly we had this thing that we just ran and refined until opening night.
I thought more about process this past weekend, at the Blue Rock Review release party. I'd had a short piece (people assure me it's a poem, so okay, a poem) accepted for publication in the journal and as I looked at it, expertly laid out, I remembered how hard I worked on it, how all the early drafts were a prose essay. I could never get happy with it and the Monday before the deadline, I set the essay aside and made a list (and, allegedly, a poem). I looked at it, decided that maybe this was the piece, emailed it off and they accepted it.
But I never set out to write a list/poem. Suddenly one exists, not only in my notebook, but in a journal that's being distributed hither and yon.
Do other artists find this somewhat mysterious. And exciting? But mostly mysterious?
I don't mean to be disingenuous with this pondering. I know there were hours put into both projects. I also don't want to imply that this mysterious process made something wonderful, because I always feel like things fall short of the idea in my head and need more hours, maybe even need more setting aside and starting over.
I'm coming to no conclusion tonight. Maybe I never will. I'm sure this won't be the last time I type aimlessly about process and the mystery therein.
There's something to unravel here.
And then there's the follow-up: "how did you make that?"
Frankly, I'm more interested in the follow-up. I'm a process person and I love seeing/hearing how artists go about fulfilling their vision(s).
So you'd think I'd have some sort of understanding of my own process, would have paid more attention to how I go about things. But when I'm in the actual act of making something, I'm sort of in the act of making something and not paying attention to process.
As I made the recent performance out of eight poems by Jill Alexander Essbaum, this is highlighted for me by two events.
One was early in the rehearsal process. I worked a lone for a few weeks, moving about an empty space (either at Hope Stone Studios, where I had my HopeWerks Residency, or at at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, where I was graced with additional rehearsal space) and deciding how I wanted a particular poem to move, what shape or floor plan I wanted it to take. This was primarily an intuitive process, I think. Even 25 years ago, when I was directing my first plays, I made decisions about blocking fairly quickly and while I might veer off from the initial plan when I see something isn't working in rehearsal (or an actor is bringing something to the performance that requires a different pattern or I see a better picture to make with the actual bodies in space), once I set blocking, it's fairly well set. For better or worse.
When I set the last piece on my performers (of which I was one, which skews the process some, since I can't actually see the pictures I'm making), I found myself pondering my own process. On my bus ride home, I remember thinking, "How did I do that? There once was nothing, now there's this floor pattern and other movement that these performers didn't do. Did I make that? How? When?" I had a moment of wonder about that. I think I could reconstruct the steps and choices, but only with difficulty. My own process was obscure to me.
The second event was really a couple of events but the same one repeated. One was when Donna Meadows and I appeared on the local radio program, The Front Row. The interviewer, Catherine Lu, asked me how does one go about adapting poetry to the stage. It was a question that caught me off guard. I sort of stammered, "I don't know." That question was asked again at the after-show talk-backs. I was no more prepared to answer it. I think behind that question is some kind of surprise that one would attempt this, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the first to do it.
Again, I think I can reconstruct some of the steps in choices, some of which go back to when I first read these poems and saw images on a stage. Those images have been there a while and mostly, I just had to adjust them for the type of performance space we had. And I blocked out a floor pattern/path, and I figured out what pictures I wanted to make, and suddenly we had this thing that we just ran and refined until opening night.
I thought more about process this past weekend, at the Blue Rock Review release party. I'd had a short piece (people assure me it's a poem, so okay, a poem) accepted for publication in the journal and as I looked at it, expertly laid out, I remembered how hard I worked on it, how all the early drafts were a prose essay. I could never get happy with it and the Monday before the deadline, I set the essay aside and made a list (and, allegedly, a poem). I looked at it, decided that maybe this was the piece, emailed it off and they accepted it.
But I never set out to write a list/poem. Suddenly one exists, not only in my notebook, but in a journal that's being distributed hither and yon.
Do other artists find this somewhat mysterious. And exciting? But mostly mysterious?
I don't mean to be disingenuous with this pondering. I know there were hours put into both projects. I also don't want to imply that this mysterious process made something wonderful, because I always feel like things fall short of the idea in my head and need more hours, maybe even need more setting aside and starting over.
I'm coming to no conclusion tonight. Maybe I never will. I'm sure this won't be the last time I type aimlessly about process and the mystery therein.
There's something to unravel here.
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