Ann Zeurner and Jessie Young in Dike Dance (2014), Wellfleet, MA. Photo © Whitney Browne
Artist Statement:
I am orientated towards site-specific making, collaboration with environmental systems, and addressing location in staged work. The body leaves traces wherever it goes. In turn, each place leaves more traces on the body. This reciprocal trace-leaving has me so transfixed, I am often compelled to settle still in one spot. I see so much movement in the simple act of inhabiting space; but then, wanting to bring others into this fascination with me, I throw my limbs or slam the whole torso thud against a floor—trying to fill space up to its edges. Qualities of awkwardness, extreme effort, focused stillness, and task-oriented play emerge when I knock at this idea of space and the many ways a body can absorb and be absorbed by it.
I like staying with things a while. Give me repetition, rhythm, and groove any day. I also like sharp and rough textures, dancers who talk and make sounds, movers that haven’t been smoothed out from years of training. Overall, I choreograph attention and intention—aiming to give my audience a heightened experience of their own physical inquisitiveness and the pathways it can travel.
Some of my dances have urgent stories to tell, but I also make dances to be read as sculptural objects, maps, and series of instructions listed out. Many dances are artifacts of time spent together with others in rehearsal. Making them facilitates (and results from) the growth of friendships and collaborative relationships. I choreograph to acknowledge and grow connections with other movers, communities, and the places I live.
I am orientated towards site-specific making, collaboration with environmental systems, and addressing location in staged work. The body leaves traces wherever it goes. In turn, each place leaves more traces on the body. This reciprocal trace-leaving has me so transfixed, I am often compelled to settle still in one spot. I see so much movement in the simple act of inhabiting space; but then, wanting to bring others into this fascination with me, I throw my limbs or slam the whole torso thud against a floor—trying to fill space up to its edges. Qualities of awkwardness, extreme effort, focused stillness, and task-oriented play emerge when I knock at this idea of space and the many ways a body can absorb and be absorbed by it.
I like staying with things a while. Give me repetition, rhythm, and groove any day. I also like sharp and rough textures, dancers who talk and make sounds, movers that haven’t been smoothed out from years of training. Overall, I choreograph attention and intention—aiming to give my audience a heightened experience of their own physical inquisitiveness and the pathways it can travel.
Some of my dances have urgent stories to tell, but I also make dances to be read as sculptural objects, maps, and series of instructions listed out. Many dances are artifacts of time spent together with others in rehearsal. Making them facilitates (and results from) the growth of friendships and collaborative relationships. I choreograph to acknowledge and grow connections with other movers, communities, and the places I live.