Solidifying the Appetite

Once I began the deconstruction phase, I became interested in repetition as a compositional device. Instead of presenting the phrase once as a complete expressive unit, I started repeating both the phrase and one specific gesture within it. Each repetition shifted slightly in timing and effort, and over time the gesture began to diminish in size and intensity. I was really curious about just how far I could push the exhaustion of a gesture; was it still interesting to watch?

At first, the phrase still read clearly as Limón-influenced movement. But as the repetition accumulated, something different began to happen. The expressive continuity of the phrase started to break down, and the audience could begin to see the mechanics underneath the movement: breath initiating motion, weight moving through the torso, and the body negotiating gravity.

One of the most influential pieces of feedback I received was from my instructor, who encouraged me to push the repetition further and see how long it could last. Originally the phrase only repeated a few times, and the study lasted around a minute and a half. Once I extended the repetitions, the duration expanded dramatically, nearly four minutes. Sitting with the movement for that long created a completely different experience. The gesture gradually lost its expressive phrasing and began to feel more like a physical pattern or habit. That curiosity was soon fueled by the idea that the use of repetition was actually starting to mesmerize the audience. Asking: how long is she going to do that?

This repetition also revealed something about rigor in performance. Repeating a gesture over and over eventually shifts the audience’s attention toward subtle differences: breath patterns, effort, and scale. Instead of focusing on the phrase as choreography, the viewer begins noticing the mechanics of the body performing the same action repeatedly.

Another important piece of feedback addressed the spatial nature of the work. Because the movement remained mostly stationary, the piece began to feel like it was asking for a much smaller performance space, something more intimate, almost gallery-like. This comment helped me realize that the scale of the choreography wasn’t necessarily meant for a traditional stage. The stillness and repetition seemed to invite a more contained environment where small details could be observed closely. At the same time, the feedback suggested that if the piece did move through space, that moment should feel intentional and directional; something that goes somewhere rather than drifting casually. That observation changed the way I thought about the structure of the study. Instead of movement being constant, space could function as a compositional event for this work. I love site-specific pieces and I feel this piece would be incredibly effective in either space with a drastically different feel to both.

Another aspect that resonated with me was feedback about the pedestrian way I entered the space. Entering without theatrical framing, simply walking into the space, made the piece feel more connected to the work itself. The transition into the movement felt less like a performance cue and more like the choreography emerging naturally from the body already present in the room. I love the mystical nature that dance can provide to an audience, but that human connection is something I crave sometimes. This work reflected that appetite for me.

I also received feedback acknowledging how I had incorporated earlier suggestions from previous studies while still keeping the work authentic to my own movement voice. That comment was encouraging because this study required balancing experimentation with something that still felt physically honest. This study, being constructed in class, really took on this authentic take on how I can take the energy offered by others and see what happens physically.