You’ll hear about all kinds of things, from Jane Weiner’s artistic and educational vision for the world (have you heard her say the phrase “army of artists” yet?), right down to how Maisie Jo is coming along with pointing her little toes in Creative Movement, and how many cups of coffee the company dancers drank backstage during tech. We hope you enjoy reading how Hope Stone is working to provide Art for All!

aussie amy is an actor and blogger, and teaches theater in the hope stone kids program. She is passionate about helping people use theater to express what’s going on in the rest of their lives, can’t point the toes on her right foot very well at all, and prefers chai to coffee.

Before you settle down with your coffee and croissant to read this post, first go to our homepage and book your tickets to Squared Dancer, opening tonight (Nov 9th, 2012) at the Wortham Center. This collaboration between Hope Stone Dance, Houston Metropolitan Dance Company and composer Marc Hennessey promises to be fun and quirky and beautiful and also rare – it’s not often you get the chance to see these artists working their magic together.

Got your ticket? Ok, now you can settle in and learn some more about Marc and his work.

Looping Technology…this Musician’s Best Friend

“It was early 2008 and I had just recovered from a bicycle accident which could have easily killed me. Something inside me was screaming that I needed to start composing again.” A video of a street performer playing amazing music using a violin, and intriguingly, some pedals, was the catalyst. Marc went down the rabbit-hole and was introduced to the process called looping. So he picked up his violin, which he had not played in nearly two years, and got back on his musical feet. His band, comprised of Marc, some recording and playback equipment, and some other performers – called “To All My Dear Friends” – was born.

How can music be live and prerecorded at the same time?

Looping is a process whereby live music is recorded and then played back in repetition (or a loop, as sound engineers call it). While this loop is playing back, the musician can then record over the top of it a different riff or melody or chord, and then record both those loops and play along with that. This process allows the musician to build layer after layer of music, in effect becoming their own orchestra. Marc is adamant that none of his music is prerecorded: like your mama’s homestyle cooking, the best creations happen from scratch. The recording part of the process happens right in front of the audience’s eyes, and a few minutes later what you’re hearing is “prerecorded”, but you watched that recording take place (and may not even have noticed it).

Marc’s use of looping in his creative process presents him with some unique challenges. He confesses that beginning a new piece is the hardest part. He must build it note by note until it begins to take shape. His music also requires an incredible synergy between his organic creativity and some pretty careful advance planning. And that’s what he loves about it. That is space where he lives.

Squared Dancer…

…takes classical music as its departure point, and is very listener-friendly. As with all of Marc’s pieces, it comes from a very personal place and he hopes that audience members will connect with his music intellectually and emotionally. Marc speaks with glowing praise of Jane Weiner’s choreography and the talent and hard work of the dancers involved in the process, and refused to admit to me that he had any out-of-the-ordinary challenges in this collaboration!

What’s next for Marc Hennessey?

Touring, and a new album in the spring. He hopes to collaborate more with different art forms. As he says, “there are many hearts to reach through sound”!

Links

• For more about Marc and his band To All My Dear Friends, including how to purchase his music, visit toallmydearfriends.com.
• Book your tickets to Squared Dancer at hopestoneinc.org.
• Aussie Amy teaches Theater with Hope Stone Kids and is pretty sure Marc plays the violin better than she did when she was seven. She loves blogging for Hope Stone, and you can also read her personal blog at anaustralianintexas.blogspot.com.

We are four weeks into one of the heartstrings of Hope Stone – the Hope Stone Kids program.  It is here that Hope Stone’s mission of “art for all” really shows its colors.  Kids from eighteen months to eighteen years can come and take classes in dance, music and drama, among other things, regardless of skill level or their family’s income.  Which means that we get a great bunch of kids in our classes from a variety of backgrounds, and a whole bunch of different perspectives.

Last year I was the Thursday intern for the teen class (now called Hope Stone Kids III), which meant I got to see the incredible teaching of both Chris Howard and Gayla Miller.  Something that Gayla said pretty often in our theater class was “not only in this circle, but also in your lives”.  In fact, she said it so often that it became a running joke.

Think for a moment about how powerful and important that is.  To be told:  Speak so we can hear you.  Be brave.  Work as a team.  Focus on what you’re doing no matter how hard someone tries to distract you.  And to learn how to do that in small and concrete ways, with the hope that you might feel a little more equipped to do that in the rest of your life.

This year I inherited the theater class from Gayla, assisted by Hope Stone newbie Leslie Lenert (who also happens to be one of my best friends).  What we also inherited is the language of that joke, which is such an excellent tool and ties in with my passions about how theater works at its best.  I am feeling very new at being in charge here, and I think we are all still finding our feet about how this class is going to work, so I appreciate Gayla’s strong legacy in this group of kids.

Last night in our theater class we did an improvisation exercise that requires some people to be excellent leaders, and some people to be excellent followers, and afterwards we reflected on that as a group.  And without any prompting, the teenagers began to ask themselves whether this was something they wanted to be true of their lives outside of the theater.  And all of a sudden the themes of trust, and following, and unconditional acceptance became a lot more significant.  And they listened to each other’s wisdom, and figured out what they thought about all those things.

Sometimes in classes you leave not feeling like anything meaningful happened.  But I am learning to apply Gayla’s motto to myself as well.  My father bakes the best bread I have ever eaten, and has taught me how to bake as well.  When I called him up asking advice about a loaf that had failed, he said to me, unwittingly using Gayla’s language, “Sometimes you fail at things inexplicably.  And that’s ok.  Not only in bread-baking, but also in life.” Because the next class, or loaf, or social situation, might just be excellent.

aussie amy

I prepared much of this post while I was overseas recently, and came home to learn that a member of Houston’s dance community had passed away while I was gone.  I decided to go ahead and publish this post partly because I thought it might be appropriate to talk about the joy of creating art when we are reflecting on the life of someone who literally and figuratively brought light into many people’s lives.  I am so grateful for Jeremy Choate’s contribution to Hope Stone, and my heart and prayers are with those who are struggling with grief right now.

Photography by Simon Gentry

What’s it like being a Hope Stone Dancer?

I asked the company a few questions recently to this effect.  So let’s take a little stroll behind the Lemonade Stand and experience this summer’s production from the eyes of four of its dancers: Catalina, Gage, JoDee, and Shohei.

Stop 1: Houston

Although there is such diversity of age, stage and homepage, they have at least this in common: all four of them confessed to struggling with Houston’s heat, or its traffic, or both.

Meet your Tour Guide

In this evening’s production, the roles of boss, friend, mentor and excellent choreographer will be played by Jane Weiner, whom all four dancers like and respect.  Shohei says her favourite moment in rehearsal is when Jane’s face is shining with a new idea.  Cata says that Jane’s influence on her has helped her “change my definition of mistake” and derive more joy from her dancing.  What a compliment!

Welcome to the Family

All four of them spoke of the joy of unity, and of the harmony and sense of family they feel in the rehearsal studio.  I asked the dancers to share about some of their relationships with each other, and Shohei said she and Jesus Acosta are practically sisters, while Gage says he always feels supported by Brit.  There is even the family pet – Jane’s dog Oliver, who is known to walk right across the middle of the floor during rehearsal and even (I didn’t get the lowdown on exactly how) contribute to the choreography.

And What Do You Do for a Living?

I asked the dancers how they respond to this, and how others respond to their response.  Both Cata and Gage said that the people they small-talk with usually associate dancing with a childhood hobby.  What an unusual and beautiful bunch of people they are then, who get so passionate about something – something that everyone else leaves behind – that it becomes their profession.  When people ask Gage, the youngest of these four dancers, if he will outgrow his dreams, he says, “I will dance, then I will dance, then I will dance some more. Until I die.”

“When the rest of us are trying so hard to be present, a real poet goes absent.”

Is this true? Is the creation of art really a magical moment in which the artist transcends the present moment? Shohei says she’s not sure if she’s even thinking while she performs, and Cata says that while she does try to be present, it’s in her feelings and not in her head that she does this.  Gage says that being present and aware allows him to give of himself to the other dancers and the audience.  JoDee takes an exploratory approach, keeping her mind curious about the movement and trying to make it new and fresh every time.

…But What’s it all About, Anyway?

This year’s Lemonade Stand, like many modern dance pieces, wasn’t literally about anything or anyone or any particular story, or at least not in the kind of way that’s going to bash you over the head with its obviousness.  If you’re open to it (and I suspect you kind of have to be when you’re dancing in it) a piece like that actually allows your connection with it to be deeper, more personal, and unique.  JoDee spoke about the show’s bucket list motif (represented by actual buckets on stage!) urging her to deal with some issues in her life now, and made that the inspiration for her solo.  Beautiful!

Your Favourite Moment this Summer?

JoDee says she got so much joy from the first rehearsal that involved everyone…musicians, dancers, puppeteers…that it felt like magic. Cata says her favourite moments in rehearsal are when Jane shares random trivia.  So be sure to ask Jane next time you see her for some nuggets of knowledge J

Photography by Simon Gentry

Aussie Amy
aussie amy teaches theater to the teenagers at hope stone kids and is hope stone’s new resident blogger.  she is a huge fan of tom stoppard, author of the above quotation about poets, and thinks you should go see his plays when you can.

Friday and Saturday nights saw Hope Stone Studio turned into a performance space for the showing of Laura Gutierrez’s dance work, “Home Routes.” Laura was the last of the artists in the 2011-2012 HopeWerks season, which blessed three still-getting-established choreographers with the gift of three months of free rehearsal space each.

It was interesting to see the simple set and props that Laura had set up. It was lovely to dress up and sit in an audience on this floor that is usually rehearsal or class space. It was even exciting to line up and pay five dollars to enter the building, because it let us know that something special was happening.

When the door to what is usually the office opened and Laura’s parents led the artists out into the performance space, the tears began to well, my heart beat faster, and it became clear what this piece was about. This wasn’t an evening of dance for dancers only, where those of us who aren’t fluent in the language of movement find ourselves terrified that we’ll awkwardly clap at the wrong moment just to stop this stranger from flailing about on the ground (or even more horrifying, standing perfectly still) in front of us. “Home Routes” wasn’t even about dancing, per se.

This piece was taking us home.

Laura had stressed to me beforehand that the choreography was not really the point. The piece wasn’t about looking nice, or about us noticing the dancers’ virtuosity or excellent technique (although Emily Bischoff, Danielle Gonzaba and Jamie Zahradnik, who I think were even breathing in sync, had buckets of that). It was about someone’s story. And it was precious in its specificity: Laura’s own joys and insecurities and stories and even siblings were all there. And being okay with those details right there on the floor in front of us reminded us that the details of our own home stories, that we carry around with us, that trailed in the door behind us, are precious, too.

After several sections of dance evoking the things that a family home witnesses – playing, fighting, teen angst, growing up, rituals of preparation, cleaning, enjoying – and some exquisite singing by Nadia Ramirez-Myers, the climax occurred just after Laura’s solo in the section entitled “Self”. She walked around the space, encircling the three dancers who were repeating phrases of the night’s pieces, and the look of determination and hope on her face was a celebration of her story, and of everyone’s story like hers. So go hug your parents, kids. Home is a complex and beautiful and even painful thing, but never take it for granted that you have somewhere you can be in your pajamas.

Laura’s next choreographic project is in the winter, and in the meantime she is taking over from Joe Modlin as director of HopeWerks for the next season, which includes the work of Donna Meadows/Neil Orts, Susan Blair and Amy Llanes. Keep your eyes peeled (although that is a mildly terrifying image) for the first show in the fall, because Donna is a wonderful regular around Hope Stone Studio, and Neil, as you can see from his Blogger profile, seems to have the kind of brain that is sure to spill out interesting and crazy inspirations. As you could tell from the slightly wild light in Laura’s eyes this week, everyone is just a little bit more alive when art like this is produced. Hope works.

Aussie Amy is the new Hope Stone Blogger and teaches theater to the Hope Stone Kids. She does her own flailing about on the floor for an audience in children’s theatre; currently she’s at Main Street Theater for Youth in Pinkalicious.

When I tell people that I spent over an hour in the car every Thursday afternoon for 10 weeks, traveling from our suburban home to Hope Center and back for my son’s 45-minute preschool dance class, an eyebrow goes up. When I tell them that I did it with my newborn baby girl in tow, the other eyebrow goes up.

Yes, there’s only one eyebrow’s difference between “That’s curious” and “You may be crazy.”

So, why in the world did I do it?

I mean, they have several dance schools right here. In fact, last year my son attended class at a local studio not 5 minutes from our home. A really quality school, I might add!

Yes, I’m a dancer and a dance teacher, but that doesn’t explain it all. My experiences simply make it easier to spot the differences between the Creative Dance class he took last year and the Creative Dance he took this fall at Hope Center.

A detailed explanation of those differences are actually in an article I wrote as a guest at a blog called My Son Can Dance. Covering what I look for in a preschool dance program, I penned it before my son turned three last year and before he ever took his first dance class.

But here, in condensed form, is what I found at Hope Center that is rarely found in even the best dance studios:

1. Playful education

   Creative Dance with a systematic and thoughtful curriculum that includes plenty of guided, structured improvisation and teaches kids how to “paint” their own pictures using the primary colors of dance technique.

2. Teaching that explores a wide range of movement vocabulary

   Dancers move slow AND fast, light AND strong, smooth AND sharp. My son is benefitting physically and mentally from a class that explores movement beyond ‘soft’ or ‘elegant’ and shows both boys and girls that dance is also powerful, exuberant, and even funny or sinister.

3. A program that empowers him to move athletically and innovate at the same time.

   Creative Dance, as I know and teach it myself, is a learning experience that engages his mind AND body, while also encouraging social skills like turn-taking, patience, critical thinking and problem solving. It’s also an opportunity for him to gain the tools to express himself through movement, rather than only mimic or express what is given (both are needed as one grows in dance but the former is less a priority in many training facilities).

4. An environment where he feels welcome and comfortable.

   It helps that I know and have danced with his teacher personally. I know that she is experienced, with a spirit and heart for teaching. But even if my son had not met Ms. Lydia before, her warm and calming presence would have won him over. We appreciate that exercises are meant to appeal to both genders and that the studio’s decor is neutral as well — that’s harder to find among dance studios than you might think.

There’s so much more in the article, and if you’re interested in what this dancing parent thinks, do read it in full.

But allow me to share one more reason I spent so much time in the car on Thursdays for a preschool dance class.

What I didn’t mention before, was my own dance upbringing and how it also influences my choice to travel a little further for dance at Hope Center.

My own childhood dance school is a pretty typical ballet/tap/jazz studio, with one exception, and that is that the owner’s specialty is none of those. In her “Creative Modern” classes movement is a medium and she gives students the structure and the tools to express themselves artistically. It’s creative movement very much in line with Virginia Tanner and Anne Green Gilbert. In these classes, offered to students from preschool through high school, we also explored visual artists like Matisse and Rauschenburg, writers and poets, and dance choreographers like Duncan and Nikolais. I don’t think I realized until college how rare this kind of dance education, this gift, is.

I firmly believe that foundation and the care with which it was provided is why I am still in love with dance today.

So ultimately, regardless of my son’s future interest in dance and whether or not it stamps the adventures still ahead of him in the lasting way it did for me, we travel to Hope Stone for Creative Dance class so that he can taste the many joys this art form really has to offer.

Nichelle Strzepek writes about 100,000 words per year on dance and dance training at DanceAdvantage.net. In addition to self-publishing, other pursuits include covering dance performance in Houston, where she finds time to periodically perform and teach. Her career in dance has been a diamond into which she continues to cut new facets but the true gems in her life are her young son, infant daughter, and infinitely supportive husband. You can find even more of Nichelle’s words about dance at NichelleDances. Or, interact with her on Twitter: @danceadvantage or Facebook: fb.com/danceadvantage

I was lucky enough to get a call from my friend Brit Wallis this past June. She told me Jane might need a male dancer for a piece in an upcoming show. I was immediately excited, and nervous. I had taken a two year hiatus from dancing after spending four years performing with a cruise line. I thought I was done with performing, but slowly my body began to miss the excitement and physicality of dancing on a regular basis. I soon spoke with Jane and she asked me to come take her Friday class. at the time I couldnt remember how many years it had been since I had a legit technique class, but I went and got through it the best I could. As exciting as it was, I wobbled a lot and honestly felt a little hopeless. I had grown accustomed to working in the cookie cutter world of revue-type shows, where movement was extremely specific, either right or wrong. Even the blocking was given by a series of numbers on stage to create perfect formations. But returning to the modern dance world, Hope Stone Dance especially, was a completely different ball game. Here, sometimes the lack of excessive specifics allows movement to happen organically, and movement phrases can be very unique to each dancer. This encourages individuality and personality to shine through, rather than have a sea of synchronized swimmer-dancers in perfect unison. I loved the visual excitement she created in the way she set movement on the dancers. I wanted to jump in and be one of her ninja dance warriors.

I found it difficult to switch gears at first. luckily, in “Lemonade Stand” the piece I learned had already been set, so I had the benefit of learning directly from a ‘track’ that had already been set by a previous dancer. Meanwhile, technique classes continued to be a challenge, as my muscles had seen better days. slowly I was beginning to get a feel for Jane’s idiosyncratic movement, although at first I felt spastic and out of control, explaining to another dancer friend of mine that I felt as though I was chasing around barnyard animals whenever I took a stab at her more difficult phrases. Her other company dancers made it look so beautiful. I made it look like I was trying to catch runaway piggies. But after three weeks and more development in my legs and core, I was able to begin sinking my teeth into it, and it became addictive…. similar to the feeling I would get from doing Sudoku or a great brain teaser, yet simultaneously challenging my mind AND body. how cool is that?

I was hooked. and beyond thrilled when Jane asked me to be involved with her next project which was an all new work with the company. This time around, the process has been such a rich experience for me. I have had the benefit of getting to know the other dancers better, while learning new, fresh movement and intimately observing Jane’s creative process. Its also wonderful to work closely with the veteran Hope Stone Dancers, seeing how instinctively they interpret Jane’s developing ideas and their ability to translate when she is creating quickly. I have come to view Jane’s movement structures like a musician would look at rhythm and chord charts, rather than written out music. They are blueprints that become more realized with each repetition.

The amount of partnering in this piece is also significant, as the previous two pieces I had performed with Hope Stone had been minimal. I love how seamless the group work is that we do. There is a section we refer to as trio, trio, trio, duet, trio, duet, trio, all. We all drift in and out at different times. It gives me the feeling that we are a true ensemble.

I also have begun to feel a more pronounced sense of purpose; a fresh, yet familiar artistic identity. I get feelings of tiny, buzzing excitement every time I park my car and walk towards the studio. It’s the sort of feeling you used to get bolting out the doors towards the playground at recess.

I had another realization after discussing my experiences with others. In addition to the joy I found in dancing again, the communal aspect of Hope Stone was quickly becoming essential to my daily life. I’m not a particularly religious person, but something about the time spent in the studio began to feel special in a way that was very pure and healing. It was the common denominator that I couldn’t put my finger on, but had noticed in the company’s dancers almost immediately: what they were doing here was sacred to them. The way we sometimes sit around and listen to Jane’s inspiring words and funny stories feels so similar to the way one might hear a great, affecting sermon in a church pew on a Sunday morning. Jane always has funny names for her movement in class, and there is a balance in releve we do where we extend our backs into an upper arch with our arms stretched forward. She calls it ‘Entering the Chapel of the Arts’. I had always been confused by what she meant. At first.

There was no set way to practice.  The only thing I could do was to try and master my nerves before going out on stage.  I had surprised myself.  I would never dream of doing something by myself on stage that had the potential to go very wrong.

The month before our big show, One, my theater teacher, Gayla, asked me to do a one-minute improvised monologue.  It must have been a long day or something because I clearly was not myself when I agreed to do it.  I studied at Hope Stone for five years, yet I never liked the spotlight.  I wanted to be in the back row of our dances, I didn’t want a big part in theater, and I definitely never asked for a solo in drumming.  When I committed to doing the improvised monologue, I knew that it would be a challenge for me and it was stepping out of my comfort zone.  What I did not realize was that in doing something I was not used to, I found a piece of myself.  The one-minute monologue opened up an unexplored part of me that I never would have found without Hope Stone.

During the weeks leading up to last year’s performance, I practiced and practiced improvisation.  It got to the point where I would think of a random word in the shower and do a monologue about it while rinsing out my conditioner.  The unfortunate part about improvisation is no matter how much you practice you cannot be perfect because there is no formula for how to do it well or how to make it funny every time.

I tried not to think about it too much while I stood backstage, waiting in the wings. All of a sudden someone shoved me onto the stage.  Time to perform.  I had to perform, not think.  The one-minute monologue felt like five seconds.  I was done and the audience was laughing.

That one insignificant little minute changed my life because I was able to find my voice afterward.  Hope Stone has become my safe sanctuary and I have found a second home there.  It is a safe place to create and to be myself.

Photography by Simon Gentry at The Photobooth on Montrose

I was so honored when Jane approached me in 2009 and offered me the next HopeWerks residency. HopeWerks is a space grant that allows emerging choreographers to use the studio space for 3 months, then to present a showing at the end.  This was a dream come true for me.  I have always been a dancer, but have also had the desire to choreograph. I have been able to do some works here and there in the past, but what held me back from doing more was not having the rehearsal space, no venue to present the works, and no one encouraging me to go for it.  With HopeWerks I was given the space and the time to create and explore in a non-intimidating environment.

It is always scary getting your work out there for people to see, because you are being vulnerable and presenting a part of yourself. You wonder what people will think. During the rehearsal process of HopeWerks, I always felt encouraged and supported by everyone involved whether it was my dancers, the staff at Hope Stone, or even Charlie and Oliver (Jane’s dogs) as they walked through the studio and saw the work in progress.

There were lots of challenges for me that helped me grow and get a taste of what putting a show together would involve. The hardest part was finding dancers and scheduling the rehearsals around all or our busy lives! On top of that I needed to find costumes, props, make programs and flyers, find music, get a videographer, and of course create the dances. There is a lot that goes into putting a show together and it gave me such a feeling of accomplishment to see it all come together in the end. Throughout the process I thought maybe creating a show like this would be a one-time event for me.  However, I remember watching the dances from the wings on opening night and feeling such a rush of joy and excitement realizing without a doubt “I want to do this again.”

And I have done it again. HopeWerks was really a springboard for me to step out and do more. Since then I have put together a benefit concert involving dance, theater, and music that speaks out against human trafficking. After taking time off and having a baby in March, I have been able to go back to my former dance company and set a piece on them.  HopeWerks really gave me the confidence and experience I needed to continue forward in my journey of dance and choreography. I’m excited to see what’s around the next corner!

Photography by Simon Gentry at The Photobooth on Montrose

It may be a secret–although it shouldn’t be a secret– choreographers and companies are out money before they even begin rehearsals. That is because it is expensive just to rent the space you need to rehearse. As a freshly formed company of nine months, my company Frame Dance Productions began rehearsing last January a part of the HopeWerks Residency. We had three months of consistent rehearsals without having to pay to rent the space. HopeWerks was absolutely essential in the work that I created last year. What a significant opportunity in the first year of the company.

It is that it is rare to find or afford enough space to actually “finish” a work. In a lot of my work prior to the residency, I just had to be satisfied with not being done with things. But for me, getting Frame up and running and wanting to create work–wanting to create a lot of work– to establish the company, I needed time to truly finish something meaty. And just because a choreographer has “finished” the work doesn’t mean that the work is finished. It takes time for the dancers to fully investigate the roles and the material and the chemistry with other dancers. That is another luxury that HopeWerks has afforded Frame and me.

I’ve realized how much I relish and find meaning in my creativity as a practice. Having a set rehearsal schedule, one that I could count on and one that the dancers could count on, created structure and repetition that allowed other variables to live and breathe. We had consistency in making the work and consistency for the dancers to rehearse and understand dynamics with each other. I love for dancers to know material so well, that I can cut it up and play with it–so that it keeps it new every performance, but they don’t feel insecure. Just ask the dancers—they never performed the same piece twice. I thrive on consistency of community so that I can build trust, fluency, and then play with details, dynamic, and give dancers the freedom to make new choices on the stage.

Since the HopeWerks residency started, the company has performed live eight times and produced and screened two brand new dances for camera. I have been awarded three grants and I’m now planning a brand new show for this Spring. Thank you HopeWerks, Hope Stone, and Jane. We’re off and running.

For more information about Lydia’s company, Frame Dance Productions:,
www.framedance.org and blog.framedance.org