Monday, November 8, 2010
If you have trouble viewing the video here's the link:
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Goat gone feral comes in where the fence is open
Goat gone feral comes in where the fence is open
comes in and makes hay and nips the tree seedlings
and climbs the granite and bleats, through its line-
through-the-bubble-of-a-spirit-level eyes it tracks
our progress and bleats again. Its Boer heritage
is scripted in its brown head, floppy basset-hound ears,
and wind-tunnelled horns, curved back for swiftness.
Boer goats merged prosaically into the feral population
to increase carcass quality. To make wild meat. Purity
cult of culling made vastly more profitable. It’s a narrative.
Goat has one hoof missing-just a stump where it kicks
and scratches its chin, back left leg hobbling, counter-
balanced on rocks. Clots of hair hang like extra legs
off its flanks. It is beast to those who’d make devil
out of it, conjure it as Pan in the frolicking growth
of the rural, an easer of their psyches when drink
and blood flow in their mouths. To us, it is Goat
who deserves to live and its “wanton destruction”
the ranger cites as reason for shooting on sight
looks laughable as new houses go up, as dozers
push through the bush, as goats in their pens
bred for fibre and milk and meat nibble forage
down to the roots. Goat can live and we don’t know
its whereabouts. It can live outside nationalist tropes.
Its hobble is powerful as it mounts the outcrop
and peers down the hill. Pathetic not to know
that it thinks as hard as we do, that it can loathe
and empathize. Goat tells me so. I am being literal.
It speaks to me and I am learning to hear it speak.
It knows where to find water when there’s no water
to be found-it has learned to read the land
in its own lifetime and will breed and pass its learning
on and on if it can. Goat comes down and watches
us over its shoulder, shits on the wall of the rainwater
tank-our lifeline-and hobbles off
to where it prays, where it makes art.
This poem appeared in the 5/3 issue of The New Yorker Magazine
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Tamar and I would like to apologize if we haven't kept our postings on the blog as current as usual lately. We've been very busy. We'll get back on track by the end of this week or the beginning of the next. In the meantime, here's something I wrote back in late February- before Harvard and before our most recent trip to Chicago. Our process is an ever evolving one. We hope these blog entries reflect that and we hope you continue to enjoy them.
It’s Friday. The weeks seem to be flying by but this Winter seems to be lasting forever. Whatever snow-kissed beauty from the recent precipitation was blanketing the otherwise charmingly dinghy Lower East Side has been replaced in less than twenty-four hours with icey snowdrifts and dirty slush puddles. Natural beauty never seems to last long in this place. After all, even the milk goes bad early here. Luckily I only have to walk across the street to get to the studio. Tamar is predictably running late. I’ve come to enjoy this time. Previously, I never used to be able to work for any length of time by myself. I lacked specific focus. Now however, I hop up on the counter as soon as I get changed and begin stretching my psoas muscles- first the right leg, then the left. With a little effort, I can let all thoughts from the morning, night before, week ahead, drift away and turn my focus inward in a way I would have thought impossible a year ago. My previously “cerebral” conversation, which took place in my head often with several different voices participating, has been replaced with a much clearer, quieter one between brain and body. There’s something almost Socratic in my approach. I ask my quadracep if it thinks it might be possible to not hold on to so much tension and my leg drops an eighth of an inch. I suggest to my right foot that it may want to see what it feels like to turn out (go on, I dare you), and it does. I’ve finished with my piriformace stretches and I’m in the studio and working on stretching my hamstrings by the time Tamar has arrived. “Oh that looks beautiful,” she says. She’s not talking about my perfectly formed bottom. I can feel her eyes practically burning a hole into my lumbar spine. I continue to stretch my hamstrings and then roll up to standing. Tamar has been obsessed with the stomach muscles and the core area recently. In class and in our one-on-one studio sessions we have been working on engaging them (the abdominals), by employing the image of a vase in the mid section. The idea is to get the edges of the vase moving in an eighth of an inch. It’s a difficult concept to grasp and even harder to maintain, but it makes all the difference once it does occur. It’s an incredible organizing principle. If my stomach muscles experience engagement my upper and lower body both move automatically into an almost instantaneous alignment. The shift is difficult to explain, and it’s very easy for me to get distracted by the amount of sensation that occurs in my body as a result of this powerful an alignment shift- particularly with the core. To engage the core requires a lot of intense focus, an almost ‘divine relaxation,’ which is difficult to acquire when my upper and lower body are shifting so much. I’ve been extremely interested in following the alignment changes in my lower body in the past few weeks, particularly below the knees. As we work I can sense that I’m losing the ability to get my abdominals engaged and give the attention to my legs, which are shaking and spiraling to the point of throwing me off balance. Tamar suggests I lay down on a mat so I can better focus on the specific core area, but I’m getting a very strong, specific intention from my lower body. I tell her I don’t want to lie down because my legs will be taken out of the equation. I have the sense she’s a little perturbed with this resistance to a direction, but before we can discuss it any further a woman comes down the stairs…
“Hello, can we help you?”
Mason, the owner has promised someone a private yoga session at 0930 with Ursula, one of the yoga instructors. Being the interlopers we are, we relinquish the studio and move into the hallway. We’ve worked here on several occasions in the past week with the focus on my feet. We are unflappable in the face of this adversity! Obstacles are opportunities for the likes of stalwart corporeal adventurers the likes of us! Outside the studio I’ve rolled down and folded over my legs. My lower back protests strenuously. It feels like someone is reaching into my back with both hands Kali Ma-style and is squeezing every last drop of bile out of my kidneys. It’s torture. Tamar is sly like a fox. While I was busy gathering some mats and blocks in case we needed them outside the studio her wheels have been turning and she has devised a compromise to integrate my upper and lower body. Before I know it I’m leaning on the cubbies with my left arm threaded through my right with my left leg bent and my right, standing leg straight. Within moments I’m shaking deep within my legs. I mean deep. Every striation deep. The first time I really experienced this was the day the Good Morning America camera crews were filming us. I was in a similar position (rolled over my legs), experiencing similar pain in my lower back and Tamar suggested I stay in this stress position, confident that it would move into something else. Before I could make some crack about cripple torture- Guantanamo on Ludlow, it did. Move. This deep shaking is very different from the aggressive, slam-bam-wham shaking that we’ve grown accustomed to. It’s internal, much more supple, stronger. My right leg is gently jack hammering into the ground. I’m suddenly aware of my lower meniscuses on my right knee. I’m not even sure if I have lower meniscus but something is happening behind my knee in a completely new and unexpected way. At one point my tailbone drops like a hammer and Tamar and I almost burst into tears simultaneously. It’s like we’re connected or some shit. I continue in this position for what seems like an almost Brechtian length of time. Suddenly I’m convinced that my right leg is turning in. Turning in, in that typical, clichéd C.P. way. I can see it in my mind’s eye as clear as day. I can feel it. My right knee is kissing my left. My right foot is rolled in. I ask Tamar to check on it. She assures me that I’m standing in perfect parallel. That’s weird. I heard her say it. I saw it with my own eyes but I can’t believe it. I’ve never had a perceptual flash like that before. Interesting. As I continue in this pose and continue to shake deeper and deeper I have another flash. I see myself standing completely naked in a twisted, spastic fetal pose. Curious and more curious. How far down the rabbit hole am I going to go? My arms begin to hurt so I ask if I can switch sides. Tamar acquiesces. A change is a rest. My body responds similarly on the left side. My thinking head is starting to come online with the enormity of what’s happened today. Before I can get bogged down in the pseudo-psycho-emotional ramifications however, I notice that the yoga session is coming to a close. I need to start walking before these people come into our space. As I stand up I feel completely different in my body. I can feel every rib, my muscles seem to be hanging on my bones and I feel at least eight feet tall. There’s no room to go forward so I decide to take a step backwards. I do and get hit with a wave of emotion that I’ve grown strangely accustomed to. That step was so effortless, so beautifully integrated, so fully and completely human that it brings me to tears. On these rare occasions I am overwhelmed with love for this body. My body. Such a smart body. Such a good body. If you’ll forgive a little Shakespeare, “…in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god!”
The women leave, I walk into the studio and I have a natural opposition and feeling in my feet that has never been there before. I know I’ve mentioned that particular sensation before but this particular way of walking has really never been there before. It feels like tongues of flame are licking my heels encouraging them to raise and lower in near perfect synchronization. I (we all), have an encoded, inherent desire for positive alignment. That’s what makes this work simultaneously and paradoxically surprising and not surprising. I’m walking around like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Well, because it is. When Tamar and I began our work we both noticed and came to the conclusion that there was something juvenile or adolescent about my walk; an almost happy-go-lucky bounciness to it that didn’t quite match up with the adult I had become. During adolescence ever person goes through a period of dramatic hormonal shifts and physical change. Everyone (for the most part) eventually grows out of this awkward phase but disabled bodies remain disabled. I remember being consciously aware at twenty years old that “this,” my disability, was something that I was never going to outgrow. That was the same year I asked my mother for the first time about the story surrounding the circumstances of my birth. That was also the year I started writing my first play, Game Legs. By the age of twenty-four I had begun to get creative with my own life story after discovering an obscure vocabulary word. Teratogen, is a noun and is defined as, an agent, such as a virus, a drug, or radiation, that can cause malformations in an embryo or fetus. The etymology is as follows- Tera from the Greek meaning, “monster” and the root is from the Latin word Genes, meaning, “Born.” Essentially, I had created an imaginary construct, a mythology, (that of the “born monster”) around my own biography in which I cast myself simultaneously as the hero and the victim. All this was an effort to explain and justify a body that didn’t cooperate with my mind. Needless to say, it didn’t really help. More on this perhaps at some other time…
It’s been an intense morning. As Tamar and I change and prepare to go about our day we talk about the work and get into an interesting discussion about trauma. I have referred to my birth as “traumatic” for a number of years now and have developed my own pop-psych theory that for most of my life I have been living with some form of post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s not anywhere on par with battlefield trauma or trauma associated with physical or sexual abuse, but the fact is that at a very early stage in my development, while still en eutero, my body experienced a trauma. It just so happens that Tamar has been reading a book on trauma recently, and one key piece of information she has taken away from it is that after traumatic events the psoas and piriformace muscles shorten. This is a result of every human beings instinctual response to danger to go into the fetal position to protect their face and vital organs. I was already in the fetal position when my trauma occurred, which may have driven me further into that position. My body compensated and compensated beautifully, but, and I believe this in my bones, for thirty years my body has been operating as if it is still in a state of trauma. It never got the message that I was a functional, vibrant, thriving survivor. What really bakes my noodle is that Tamar was on to this months and months ago without being aware of this link. It’s a hypothesis in development- but how much of the physical effects of cerebral palsy or spastic displegia, are merely compensatory manifestations of early onset trauma? How effective can this work or work like it be to counteracting those, for lack of a better term, post- traumatic effects? It’s a big question. One that I don’t think Tamar and I have even the slightest idea how to answer. I’m not interested in the answer at this point. We’re merely on the road and answers don’t seem important. What is important is that each time we work the questions get clearer. That’s good enough for now.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tickets are now on sale for the June 10, 2010 performance of Diagnosis Of A Faun at the Kennedy Center For The Performing Arts. FAUN will be presented as part of the first annual VSA Arts Festival. For more information and to buy tickets, check out the link below.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Notes by Jewel Walker on Movement For Actors:
Strength is the most important and neglected brick in the actor's foundation
An actor must be physically brave on stage, even daring
The most expressive part of the actor is his trunk
Anytime you make not getting hurt the focus of the lesson, you will get a lot of injuries
Training has never caused anyone to become an actor
Everything onstage is what it seems to be
Whatever you have done to reach the level where you are will keep you at that level if you continue to do it
People make a difference exercises do not
No problem is ever solved, but they disappear when you create bigger problems
The theatre is not about acting
Actors need to be able to express the dual nature of human beings: feet in the mud, head in the stars
The only value in learning lies in its power to move us forward
Whatever we think causes anything is not the cause
Teaching must address the student to the work, never the work to the student
There is no power to any important question that has any power; the power is in the question
The great actor is not a slightly better good actor
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
2. Use your breath
3. Elbows lifted
4. Relax your face
5. Shoulder blades wide
6. Offer you hand
7. Wait for her
8. Whole body forward
10. Keep her on point
11. Give her space
12. Give her support
13. Allow her forward
14. Help her up gentley
15. Look her in the eye
18. Think up to go Down
19. Let her come to you
20. Keep arms in their sockets
21. Strong arm/ become the bar
22. Sternum to Sternum
23. Not to close
24. Release to her waist
25. Above the tutu
26. One and a quarter
29. Think up to go down
30. Keep your eyes on her
31. Good job, you’ve got it now
32. You’re ready
Thursday, January 21, 2010
What is my methodology ? Why? What led me to it?
1. I began the work in order to prepare gregg to dance the role of the Faun in a new work I was choreographing. I first saw him as an actor and his body energy called out to me as it was interesting---strong and active and responsive to the text. I liked how his passion ignited and was in direct contradiction to his physical condition. He seemed to act his way out of his c.p. leaving me unaware while watching him do romeo and Juliet that he had it and I knew he could dance his way beyond it as well.
2. I used a lifetime of body learning—everything from decades of dance techniques (ballet-graham-bharata natyam) to bodywork. My bodywork teachers were alan wayne and monica Hathaway both of whom taught me ultimately never to listen to them but find my own way. I’ve never studied feldenkrais or trager or Alexander or yoga—for the last 26 years I have given a laboratory class at ps 122 and now at lamama—many students have been with me for all these years—they are mostly actors and they agree to being there while I investigate whatever interests me—this is an experiential anatomy approach where I can spend a year behind the sternum, for example—then include any landmarks in the body that interest me—bones-joints muscles-spaces between things—the class speaks my idiosyncratic language —alignment issues—mine and theirs often spark investigation—in my class at nyu ETW I add how this investigation can be the origin of a choreographic vocabulary And how it can enliven acting—this is not at all academic, as I haven’t studied the body in an organized course but have picked up information everywhere. I tend to start where I am or from what I see and let the class follow where the body takes us—a class can’t ever be replicated.
3. The first order of business with gregg was to steady him enough so he could transcend his main concern which was balance and introduce him to new ways other than his set in stone movement vocabulary which seemed designed to compensate for the inward rotation of his legs and hips He was locked in to a very specific body vise and felt at the mercy of the signals from his brain which were telling him to tense up—we sat on chairs and stamped the feet—I offered imagery---the horse shoe heel—we opened the knees---tucked him into the fetal position which rounded the lumbar spine and changed the curves he needed for balance once standing—introduced opposition walking rather than the seesaw side to side lurch which was the way he got around and after a few weeks I taught him the shaking technique—
4. Shaking—we started lying down on the back-- legs bent feet on the floor—arms outstretched to the sides—palms up--opening and closing the legs (knees) waiting until involuntary shaking and trembling took over—it took several sessions and ended up starting in thumps of the chest against the floor the head doing an uncomfortable looking lifting and nodding—all very violent and not where I was expecting it to come from—each time he lay down the body took off in this same way until it ran its course---any time I put my hand on greggs chest I could elucidate a thumping—later came other lightning bolts of zigzag energy---month by month we worked out pattern after pattern—my finger under his lips could cause enormous gagging—his arms pounded the mats—his hands clapped together til they hurt and I had to put something between them—at some point what you might call shaking began—a bit quieter but still intense—thru the thighs and sacrum --then a vibrato took hold of his belly—his stomach muscles had never served him as the way his upper body met his lower was disconnected from the body’s original design -- then came more pounding now thru the lumbar—all this we followed as the body led us through—I selected a position from which to start sometimes lying on the back and sometimes on the belly or sitting in a chair—I selected a movement to begin getting us to the involuntary part and then we dedicated an hour or two to follow its course--we were in a gym so we had mats and blocks and everything you might use for yoga—I built him structures to get his pelvis up off of the floor so his legs could be tossed over his chest and his hamstrings could stretch and he could access his stomach muscles---now that his body had experienced the shaking it constantly went to that mode in any stretch
5. Standing and hanging over fingers near toes— we used this to stretch out and access the lumbar and open it up—here we got seizing up and a great deal of fear—I by passed the fear many a time by using my body against his—almost like lending him my nervous system—my sense of flow—throughout I used my body to teach his---he could relax onto me in different ways—the little reiki I know I used to quiet him as well --my hands sent messages and new patterns---now one sweep of my hand can illicit a 20 minute reaction and instill a new or even a permanent understanding---more and more he asks me to move aside as his body is telling him something directly and he must be left alone to follow his internal clues
6. Walking---from the beginning he walked at every session and I gave him a small message often connected to an image to take on the street with him—we had to watch his exiting on to the street as he tended to revert to a prior more protective –historically more familiar mode---mostly I just watched his walk and saw where energy didn’t flow—where the body was uneven or where the foot didnt touch the floor---as his abilities grew he could feel when his sacrum was rigid or not—
7. Attitudes --Gregg is addicted to the way feelings and information come through his body---he’s in awe when he feels space in the hip sockets or connections from one place or another—or when he can just slow down--this is a reversal of his former attitude which was a slave to his condition –always taking orders from the Bully (Oliver Sachs’ term for the lesion on the brain in C.P.)--always using tons of fast frenetic energy to muscle him through everything from walking to sex---his mind which functioned in a more nuanced way was at odds with the pace and lack of modulation in his body. What he thought in his mind---was not do-able in his body--therefore immense frustration as his hyper vigilance governed the resonance of his body making known its limitations
8. Identity---Gregg evolved his personhood –body and mind to fit into his C.P. body---thru that body he felt every emotion and in that body was stored all memories pleasurable and painful—his body rhythms –walking and running were the sound score to his life---the drag of his foot—his particular toe walk ---as his alignment changed ---his patterns changed and he became a stranger to himself and in fact to me---it was the original walk that housed the person I was interested in—the new neutral was exciting because it proved that change was possible but a bit blah and devoid of any personality---I often noticed when gregg was drunk or stoned that his happiness reverted into the old home base of his original alignment---he reports that when he is being an actor the same happens---
9. Going forward the questions are:
How will his new body house him?
What parts of the changes he’s elicited in his body will remain with him irrespective of his actively being conscious of them?
What amount of consciousness will be necessary to keep a healthier alignment?
For how long and how much will he have to continue the bodywork process?
We are planning a phase two of this project which will include bringing another person with C.P. on board so Gregg can both watch me teach and teach this person himself---will teaching the work keep him involved and help preserve his new patterns?
How far will we be able to go towards a permanent positive alignment? How will Greggs personality ---emotional balance-- identity and world view evolve to meet his new needs in his changing body?
“My Most Amazing Day”
New Alloy/New Alignment/New Alchemy
My most amazing day starts on a Thursday evening. I went to see a play reading hosted by Theatre Breaking Through Barriers as part of their Winter reading series of new works. I’ve noticed a trend in Off-Broadway plays by younger authors recently- the writing is good, the characters are clear, but absolutely nothing of dramatic value happens. This does not make for good theatre. In addition, it was over two and a half hours long. What was actually cool about it was that the idea of nueroplasticity was all over it. One of the characters talked extensively about the topic sighting such natural adaptations/anomalies as giraffe necks growing so they can reach higher leaves or how the speckled moth- white before the industrial revolution- turned black (or speckled), because it stood out against a coal dusted sky and was therefore easier prey. The question the character was asking was essentially, “Can a creature will itself to adapt and change?” The character was also a wheelchair user played by an actual wheelchair user. I found this fascinating since the idea of nueroplasticity has become practically the buzzword medical professionals have been using in reference to the work Tamar and I have been doing over the past year. I left the reading nearly three hours later. My head filled with the ideas of neuroplasticity and the human will. I arrived home to see this email message from Tamar in my INBOX
…I am stepping back and reflecting--im thinking about loving another body besides my own and I thought some very interesting things –like why is another body so comforting—its temperature—its shape---its familiarity--beyond or inclusive of--sexually charged feelings or partnering ones or parenting ones--what others are there—there is a mysterious link that im examining about what is confirmed in me by you---and I can separate from it but when I see you concentrating I connect and when I see you not concentrating I dis-connect---its more of a body messaging system between us than a psychological but it can feel emotional---whatever it is from my point of view its an intense instantaneous morse code—and the brain reacts second…
I go to sleep. I wake up early. Too early. I haven’t been sleeping well since the show closed. I haven’t not been sleeping well I’m just going to bed early and waking up early. During the last few months of rehearsal and during the run this was due to exhaustion and a need to conserve energy. It just seems strange that I’m still doing it. Not that there’s anything wrong with getting rest. There’s usually a drop in mood and energy following the close of a production, almost a post partum effect. So much focused energy and effort goes into the creation of a piece of work, that in the past when productions are over I crash hard. Surprisingly, this has not happened with this show. Perhaps it’s because Tamar and I continue to work in preparation for the Kennedy Center performance in June 2010. Beyond that however, the entire experience was fulfilling on so many levels that the closing performance and celebration felt like just that- the closing of a wonderful chapter in a year of my life. What’s going on now seems like a new chapter. Phase II. Gregg & Tamar2.0.
By 7:30am I’m sitting in a corner table at 88 Orchard, a coffee shop in my neighborhood. I’ve been going there for years but just recently started showing up regularly (practically every morning), to write. I’m trying to finish a play I’ve been working on for a few years now. I’m in the middle of revising the fifth draft. The entire staff is wonderful. They all came to see the show and loved it. I talk to them all, sometimes asking questions or for advice with the writing. They make a mean cup of java to. I stay there for about an hour then make my way to the gym.
God bless Ludlow Fitness for letting us use their space. Teddy (who took Josh’s place), is a hulk of man with the disposition of a…well…teddy bear. He lets me into the studio every morning we work. He actually grew up and still keeps an apartment in Tamar’s building. Small world. I stash my coat and bag into a cubby, throw on my gym pants and start stretching. Pzoaz/Peroformace/Hamstrings has become my daily regimen. I’m in the middle of stretching my peroformace muscles when I hear the door upstairs slam and Tamar’s footfalls on the stairs. It’s 9:05am.
She’s bundled in a thick coat and hat, which she takes off, stashes and then goes into the WOMAN’s room. When she comes out looking like a completely different person, I describe to her how I think the cold weather is having a negative effect on my walk. Cold causes muscles to contract. It’s been bone-chilling in NYC recently with wind that penetrates and whips through clothing. I’ve been feeling my legs tighten as a result of the cold and have a tendency to walk faster from point A to point B. My focus and concentration is more on getting to a warm place then an aligned walk. Since the holiday break I’ve felt some reversion (what I term, “the snap back”), specifically in my lower back- what we refer to as “the cummerbund area.” In class the previous morning, we were improvising moving through the space and I mentioned this tightness in the lower back. Tamar suggested I remind my body that I have a spine, that that spine is long- it reaches from the Atlas in the top of my skull and connects to the top of my pelvis. This simple adjustment has helped immensely to “de-clunk” that area.
I’m sitting on a stool. Tamar is in front of me and has her hands on my feet. She’s placing them into proper alignment and pressing my pinkie toes, forever raised like the true aristocrats they are, into the ground. They were caught unawares by the revolution and need to learn what it means to do an honest day’s work. Tamar instructs me on how to get my feet into proper alignment. She uses her hands at first to show me the path my foot should travel up and down. She lists all the joints in the foot: heel/talace/ankle/ball/etc… and encourages me to think of the foot in its many pieces as opposed to a heavy, single slab. I ask her to let me try the motion on my own and input the suggestion of the feet as a mutli-faceted unit. There’s an increase in sensation almost immediately. My body is in conflict with itself. It wants to discover these new routes, new ways of moving, which is actually the way it was originally designed to move, but it takes time and effort to release it from it’s old modes of behavior. I’m working on my right foot alone. As I focus to raise and lower my foot, I can feel my left leg grabbing in the hip flexor, the knee wanting to turn in, the heel coming off the ground. I stop. I ask Tamar for a yoga block. With my left foot on the block and supported the “bully reflex” is interrupted and I can put all my attention and focus into my right foot. The simple action of raising and lowering my foot takes an incredible amount of focus and is physically strenuous. After a few minutes I am shaking. Not just in my legs, but my entire pelvis starts undulating. All this movement, termed “shaking” is purely involuntary. As my body discovers the correct pathways and what I assume are new neural connections as a result of positive alignment, my body learns that it can utilize these new pathways and release the old mechanism that had previously allowed for standing, hind-limb ambulation, running, jumping and general mobility with the effective, but less efficient, C.P. alignment. What the shaking does is soften my otherwise tense or spastic musculature to receive basic instructions such as; point your sternum down, tuck your tailbone under, close the front ribs/open the back ribs, etc. What’s more, as my right leg and entire right side begins to learn proper alignment my resting leg begins to respond similarly. Not nearly with the same intensity, but it’s as if one side is teaching the other- like a game of “Follow the Leader.” As my body reroutes I often times also experience a physiological-emotional response. In this case, I experienced waves of nausea and became very emotional to the point of tears. Tamar and I never stop or get bogged down with the psychological or emotional ramifications of this. This would kill our progress. We soldier on through. Both of us realize that what’s happening when this occurs is that my body is opening up areas that have been previously unavailable or inaccessible for over thirty years. It is what it is, and this to shall pass.
I’d like to digress for a moment here and talk a little bit about my body’s relationship with fear. Tamar has said that my hyper-vigilance is due to my body being in a constant state of emergency. I have come to understand this as a constant fear of falling. During some of our most recent studio sessions as I experience release in my lower body, specifically in the leg below the knee, I’ve noticed that my arms- shoulders, forearms, wrists and hands get extremely tense. I believe this is a compensation that my body does automatically as a protective measure. As I move my pelvis, hips, legs and feet into proper alignment- into an alignment that my body has never felt- my body tenses. This is because I believe IT believes I’m going to fall down. This is a new and fascinating concept to me. I first became aware of my body’s fear response during the rehearsal period. The first day I was working on the set piece we affectionately refer to as, “The Rock,” I couldn’t even sit on it without waves of physical terror coursing through me. I was flanked by Tamar on my left and Sharon, our stage manager, on my right. As I moved around on it and eventually tried to stand up, I held on to them for balance and support. Initially I couldn’t stand up on it without their help. My body would tense so much that it would literally drop me to my knees for a more supported base. If they let go of me the waves of terror would return and I would simply ask- or scream or cry out- for one of them to touch me. This simple action both comforted and grounded me. During our opening week of performance I was experiencing so much pain as a result of tension in my hip flexors that I was convinced it was only a matter of time before I was going to injure myself. Tamar stressed the importance of a focused warm-up. As I increased my warm up and internal focus the pain first moved from my left side to my right and then disappeared completely. By the end of the first week of shows it was gone. It didn’t return for the remainder of the run. As we work in the studio, I’ve realized that I can actually counter this fear response by slowing down and convincing my body that it’s okay- that it’s not in a state of emergency. The grip we call, “The bully reflex” is the grip of fear. If I stay focused and connected to my body as I move into proper alignment, using my mind, I can show my body that there’s an alternative to falling that’s better, safer, more productive. I’m still working on developing this theory but could this be me willing my body to change?
We work on my right side for a good forty-five minutes to an hour. I’m shaking. I’m gagging. I’m nauseous. I feel great. It’s time for me to stand up and walk around to see how my body has integrated these latest changes with movement. Tamar slowly removes my left foot from the block, being careful to place it down on the ground in the proper alignment. I ask to try and replicate what I have just done on my right foot with my left for a few times before I stand up. Tamar acquiesces. My left foot is considerably more rigid and less responsive then my right foot in general. It’s harder to lift and place down properly but I mange to do it about half a dozen times before Tamar assists me with standing up. I walk into the studio and with the first few steps it’s as if my brain has caught fire. My feet are on the floor like never before. I have a roll to my walk that involves the entire foot that I’ve never utilized until this very moment. It’s incredible. I walk for a bit. I allow my body to integrate all the new information we have just fed it. I try to let my new walk walk me. I listen to my body. Before we know it our work has come to an end for the day.
Neither of us had this planned when we arrived at the studio this morning. We never have an agenda. It just happened. This progress with the feet however, would not have been possible if we had not been working so intensively over the last eight to ten months. Tamar and I continue to talk as we change clothes and prepare to reenter the world at large. I have to head to the West Village to rehearse for a reading I am doing later that evening. Before we exit the studio Tamar gives me a few basic directions to carry with me through out the day. I listen. I try and put them into practice as we climb the studio steps and exit out onto the street. Tamar returns the keys to Teddy at the gym. I cross the street and enter my building. As I enter my apartment and hit the stairs I remind my body of the work we have just done and take each step slowly and deliberately, careful to make sure I am landing half-toe/heel/with the outside of my heel pressing down. As I walk up the steps I think for the first time ever, “I love walking up stairs,” as I fight back the urge to throw up in my mouth.
“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Aaaaaaaaah!” I’m screaming into a microphone. I’m rehearsing for a staged reading at the Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre for Killing/Play by my friend David Anzuelo, a sex, drugs & rock and roll infused retelling of Oedipus The King. I play the Oedipus character, Rex. This is an amazing part for me. Not only is it well written and right in my comfort zone as an actor but aside from being the original mother fucker, Oedipus is also a disabled archetype. Everyone always associates him with blindness, but "Oedipus" actually means "clubbed foot" in Greek. He walked with a pronounced limp as a result of his feet being pinned when his parents abandoned him to the mercy of the elements shortly after his birth. They say it was his disability that gave him the knowledge to answer the sphinx's riddle, save Thebes and become king. I also have the pleasure of sharing the stage with Daphne Rubin-Vega, Salvatore Inzerillo and several other Labyrinth Theatre Company members. http://www.labtheater.org/ We rehearse for a few hours then take a dinner break before having to be back for our 6:30pm call. I step outside quickly for some air and then come back to warm-up on stage. It’s Pzoaz/Peroformace/Hamstrings time. I’m in the middle of stretching my peroformace muscles when Daphne walks on stage sees me warming up and we have the following exchange-
“Oh you’re so good.”
“What? You don’t warm up anymore.”
“I didn’t use to either but I was just in a dance piece…I’m not a dancer I’m an actor. The director/choreographer saw me in a show and wanted to work with me.”
“And wanted to work with you. Yeah, that’s how it works.”
“I would get to the theatre two hours early just to do these extensive warm-ups. Just because I had to.”
“Is that because you’re at a disadvantage with the way you walk?”
“No. We all showed up that early- even the two professional dancers. We just had to.”
The reading was a hit. The audience loved it. People were really impressed with my work and kept coming up to me afterwards to congratulate me. It felt good. It had been a long time since I had acted on stage but the attention and adulation was bittersweet. I was incredibly tense throughout the show. My heels were up. While I was performing it was as if all the work Tamar and I have been doing had never happened. I’ve spoken about this with Tamar and she thinks that emotionally there are big shifts between the new body and the old, and since I’m an actor I need to call up emotions during performance or at auditions for example, which relate and are stored in the old musculature’s alignment. Disorientation and identity issues come up constantly. I have to figure out how to somehow integrate the two and talk about how difficult it is on all levels to make changes plus how much consciousness is involved in making those changes. I had a beer at a bar afterwards and then left for home.
Back on the Lower East Side I walk down Stanton Street. As I’m weaving through the crowds of Friday night partiers and revelers I can feel my heels coming off the ground. My focus is off. I’m tired from a long day’s work, I’m negotiating crowds on busy city sidewalks and I’m loaded down with two bags. As I pass one of my favorite Mexican restaurants in the neighborhood a girl sitting by the window sees me walk by. She makes a face of sheer panic and disgust. I still can’t get the image of it out of my head. It was a face only David Lynch could love. All that work! An amazing day all destroyed with a look! I thought I was over this. I’m not. My whole body tenses. My mind begins to fire. I start swearing, screaming at the woman in my head. A part of me knows I’m really cursing myself. It’s not always this bad. Sometimes it’s worse. I stop. I throw my bag down on the sidewalk. I close my eyes. I breathe. I look into myself- an inch behind my bellybutton and an inch below that. I can let that woman’s gaze destroy me. Destroy all I have worked for. I can leave my body and let fear, anger, guilt and disgust wash over me like a warm bath. Or I can slow down. Stop. Listen to my body. I could take smooth measured, conscious steps all the way home. That’s exactly what I do.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
ABC's Good Morning America ran a feature segment on Diagnosis Of A Faun on their program this morning. Here's a link that has a video of the segment.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
This post is a link to the blog Art + Culture You Might Love on 12/20/2009. I'm including it and find it interesting because the author, Alissa Horowitz, references the alignment work with Gregg. Here's a link.
There is no mention of the shaking in this blog entry though and I asked Gregg to write something about it as it (the shaking), is what allowed for the alignment directions that Alissa references in her post. This is what he sent me.
...All this movement, termed “shaking” is purely involuntary. As my body discovers the correct pathways and what I assume are new neural connections as a result of positive alignment, my body learns that it can utilize these new pathways and release the old mechanism that had previously allowed for standing, hind-limb ambulation, running, jumping and general mobility with the effective, but less efficient, C.P. alignment. What the shaking does is soften my otherwise tense or spastic musculature to receive basic instructions such as; point your sternum down, tuck your tailbone under, close the front ribs/open the back ribs, etc...