Photo by Michal Rajatski
I am away from home, away from my daily life and worries. I don a lover‘s head and am ready to be dazzled. "Amazing", "wonderful", "beautiful", "fabulous" roll off my tongue with lightness and ease. Since the moment we arrived, my husband has taken to being more affectionate, kissing me passionately in public, a softer touch, he is lighter of spirit, and there is an undeniable sparkle in his eyes. He, too, is apparently love-struck--thank god! Who knew what awaited us, just 500 kilometers (300 miles) north of our home in Berlin? But it is not just Copenhagen, it is what we have come to: the 100 Dancers Project, organized by choreographer and artist of massive live-art installations, Pipaluk (http://www.liveartinstallations.com/art/). We are a team of approximately 120 people - dancers, musicians, video artists and designers - who have come together for a 10-day period to create urban site-specific performance involving, not surprisingly, 100 dancers. Here is a sneak-peek of what is to come, the 100 Dancers Trailer, created by Marina and Nicholas, who are both part of the talented team of video artists:
There is little to no hierarchy, we are the participants and the creators - this is the ultimate democratic performance project. We work as creative individuals and a collective, to create improvisational scores, which will be performed in various locations around Copenhagen as part of the month-long live-art festival, Metropolis. (Improvisational scores for dance are similar to improvisational music scores, in that they provide rules and guidelines for a dance and/or performance but do not spell out every single moment. Just as with jazz, there is room for improvisation and individual flare and creativity within a set structure. Some simple sample of scores would be: while dancing with a partner our heads must remain always in contact, or we all dress up like drag queens and dance like Isadora Duncan. The later is a real score from the 100 Dancers.)
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| Photo by Steve MacFarlane |
DAY 1 - Arrival/Meeting
On Thursday July 28th, people slowly trickle in to Christiania from various parts of the globe. My husband, 2-year old son, and I arrive late-morning to the fabled land of Christiania. It is far beyond what I had expected: a massive section of central Copenhagen, consisting of islands, waterways, colorfully restored buildings, public art, innovative and unique architecture and design, nature areas, forest cabins and cottages, restaurants and cafes, small shops...and all boasting a unique, do-it-yourself flare. Most remarkably, it is a safe-haven for artists and alternatives, and is officially known as Freetown Christiania. The area is collectively governed by its residents and has its own flag: three yellow dots set against a bright red background. There is as much a global-sensibility alive here, as there is a local one. Indeed, Christiania has always been comprised of an international community, and it is obvious that many of the people living here have seen the world. Take the Nepalese Stupa for instance, it seems perfectly in place here. No big surprise.
From the city center one crosses the by bridge, thereby entering the city borough of Christianshavn. From here it is only a few city blocks before one arrives at the tell-tale, colorfully muralled walls, which suggest a home beloved. One has the sense that just beyond these walls lays a place that is different and unexpected. The entrance is flanked by a profusion of fruit trees, heavy with ripe summer plums, and other greenery. Wide paved roads give way to pedestrian-only dirt pathways and cobblestone; one sees the earth and a certain abundant wildness blossoming from it. People flow in and out of this Southern entrance, like ants streaming to and from a rich food source. How can you not follow?
This southern section of Christiania is the most densely populated with buildings (many late-19th century brick), walkways and people. The carless streets are filled with tourists, locals, families, street vendors, and people just looking to hang out. There is a strong element of grunge, crossed with 21st hippie. On our first afternoon, I enthusiastically drag my husband and son, to the whole food, vegetarian restaurant with its white brick exterior, trimmed in colors of sky blue and pink, and its bright blue interior. Everything about the place: the smells, the colors, the design, the people, remind me of my favorite home-grown vegetarian restaurants back in the States. There are a variety of colorful salads to choose from, a daily soup, and a daily main course meal. We eat at one of the many long wooden tables in the side garden. Before we have the chance to finish our meal, my son finds his way out beyond the picket fence to the playground just opposite. Seated in a long line along the low wall of the playground, is the alcoholic crew, mostly middle-aged to older men who seem to make a life of sitting listlessly in this exact place day in day out, can of beer in hand. From time to time a loud, alcohol-induced voice breaks through the sounds of the street and children‘s play. Theo, my son pushes around on an old plastic car (one he has just fought over with another boy) directly in front of the row of beer-drinkers.
Not far beyond is Christiana's most infamous strip, Pusher Lane, a home to Scandinavia's Cannabis trade. The pedestrian-only street is lined with small, covered stands, where vendors push neatly stacked blocks of hash and rolled joints. People crowd around the stands and the street, tough looking dogs mill about, and even children can be seen skipping around some of the stands. When I pass by one morning, I take note of the wide variety of people already lining up at one popular stand; well-dressed twenty year olds, men and women, university boys, older folks, an older mother and her daughter--both very thin and both looking to be on the brink of desperation. Considering that it is not yet 9am, I am guessing that this is the pre-work/school rush, or for those more desperate, looking for a start-to-the-day fix. I have the desire to take a closer look at the goods offer, but have taken note of signs that state "only serious buyers welcome." As I observe from afar I suddenly realize that one of the vendors has noticed my gaze, so I take my pieces of cake, which I have just purchased at the baker next door and skiddadle. Large signs all along Pusher's Lane, forbid cameras and photography. Cannibas illegal in Denmark, but tolerated in Christiania.
Not far beyond is Christiana's most infamous strip, Pusher Lane, a home to Scandinavia's Cannabis trade. The pedestrian-only street is lined with small, covered stands, where vendors push neatly stacked blocks of hash and rolled joints. People crowd around the stands and the street, tough looking dogs mill about, and even children can be seen skipping around some of the stands. When I pass by one morning, I take note of the wide variety of people already lining up at one popular stand; well-dressed twenty year olds, men and women, university boys, older folks, an older mother and her daughter--both very thin and both looking to be on the brink of desperation. Considering that it is not yet 9am, I am guessing that this is the pre-work/school rush, or for those more desperate, looking for a start-to-the-day fix. I have the desire to take a closer look at the goods offer, but have taken note of signs that state "only serious buyers welcome." As I observe from afar I suddenly realize that one of the vendors has noticed my gaze, so I take my pieces of cake, which I have just purchased at the baker next door and skiddadle. Large signs all along Pusher's Lane, forbid cameras and photography. Cannibas illegal in Denmark, but tolerated in Christiania.
The western portion of Christiania, running north-south, consists of long stretches of forested land and waterways. Nestled amongst the green forests and along the edges of the lakes, are a wide variety of unique houses, ranging from unkempt hovels to idyllic forest cabins, from reenvisioned barns to the downright futurist (i.e. the ufo house).
We are very fortunate to be staying in this part of Christiania, in a spacious, light-filled cottage along a small gravel street, amidst thick green vegetation and trees, water on both sides. As I look out on an essentially wild, nature-filled scene, no other houses in view, it is almost impossible to believe that I am in the middle of a major world-city. Perhaps even more remarkable is the fact that we are the guests of two artists with two children, who are not independently wealthy, but who are amongst those long-term residents of Christiania, who applied again and again for available housing, and several years ago won the "lottery" and won rights to one of the most idyllic houses and locations in the area. The residents are currently away at a symposium in Germany, and have generously offered their house to the 100 dancers project. The three families with children participating in the project are staying here.
Our other home here in Copenhagen, only a hop, skip and a jump from Christiania, is the late-19th century sports hall/gym, which the state-run School of Theatre and Contemporary Dance, has converted into a modern dance center, with studios of various sizes and a large black-box theater. This section of Christianshavn, an island towards the north of the borough, is home to various state-run schools (Architecture, Design, Filma, Music, Theater and Dance), as well as the massive minimalistic opera house, and blocks of rectangular, contemporary condos. The aesthetic is clean, minimalistic, rectangular, institutional art and architecture. The buildings are separated by long rectangular swaths of trimmed green grass. The feel is very different from the grass-root arts, graffiti, and masses of lounging individuals just blocks away. And also different from the water-side cottages just across the lake. |
| Photo by Emelie Bardon |
DAY 1
It is not without some struggle to give up those classical models of teacher-student and choreographer-dancer, which we have nearly all been subjected to and to which we have subjected ourselves. Without realizing it we give up our voice and power. This is Day 1, and we have begun with several three-hour labs scheduled for both the morning and the afternoon. Many of these labs function like classes lead by a teacher, with few proposals for scores and almost no input from the participants. As a group, we are falling into the familiar patterns of dance festivals, in which we sign up and participate in workshops lead by a single teacher. But this isn‘t just a „dance festival“, it is a project, geared towards performance. We are all the creators.
The purpose of the labs, as we are to discover, is to introduce, develop, and explore scores, which will be used for our upcoming city performances. The role of the lab leader is to propose some basic ideas/scores for the group to experiment with, and to then facilitate the process of further score development. Lab participants should be given the space to offer input, suggestions, proposals, and just as importantly, they should take this space and not only participate passively. I, myself, wasn‘t sure how to take space when confronted with the traditional class model. Everyone else seemed to be happy and participating fully. Who was I to interrupt the process and in a way to disrespect the „teacher“, who was acting out of his/her best intentions. And perhaps it is this that we need in order to arrive and to come together as a group? There was obviously a misunderstanding at play - not an egregious act by lab leaders, to usurp control over the group.
Photos by Michal Ratajski
Photo by Emelie Bardon
At the end of the day, I am frustrated, and, as I am to discover, so are many others. (Mistakenly, I had thought there were only a few of us left dissatisfied.) I have the feeling of us being „good little dance students“; following the leader, doing what we are told, aiming to please and do right. And, what have we accomplished in terms of preparing for our upcoming performances, only a few days away?! At evening sharing-circle, there is very little to show. There has been almost no generation of scores to play with.
Photo by Emelie Bardon
DAY 2
DAY 2
For me, Day 2 is about processing Day 1. It is about coming to terms with being in a 100-person group process. Identifying the and accepting the tension I feel. I don‘t
I feel resistant to being taught or lead.
Warm-ups could involve playing with a score.
Photos by Michal Ratajski
Excursion into the city, to develop scores inside the urban environment in which we will be working. Many feel the environment of the studio to be too sanitized. Indeed the entire Christianhavn island where the school is located has a sanitized feel. It is not a neighborhood of people (although there are people living in sanitized, block condo buildings), but more so a neighborhood of institutions.
Photos by Michal Ratajski
DAY 3
Another full, full day, but extremely productive. We accomplished more than The people teaching or taking yoga, started their day at 7am. Group work ended around midnight. Dancing/Music, open jam, goes until 2am. There are 200 beers just outside the studio - to celebrate the end of the beginning intensive process.
Practicing non-attachment. Your score is not your score - it is everyone‘s score, others transform it, the group transforms it. As artists who struggle to make a living as an artist, and
DAY 4
On the fourth day there was rest. This is our day off, and as far as I can access we are every one very thankful for it. To top it off, it is a warm, sunny day with blue sky and soft white billowing, clouds, reminding one of 19th century pastoral paintings. For the past three days, we have been hermited in the state dance-theater studios on one of Christianhavns islands. We have been with each other from early morning to early morning, attempting to grasp who we are as a collective and what we are doing. It has been a trial by error process and tonight is the night that we will give our scores an out-in-the-city test drive. Until then, we take time for ourselves, sleep in, explore the city by bike (the 100 dancers have a 100 bikes), lounge in the sun at one of the waterside beaches, eat ice cream and danish pasteries, visit second-hand stores which the city is famous for, etc.
In the evening we reconvene for food, some short lab explorations, and a late-night, city dress rehearsal/ jam. Our day-off has apparently slowed us down some; we lounge in the grass for several hours over dinner, and are late to come together in our large circle. What are we doing? How is it happening? we still don‘t know. Being improvisors, we realize that it will happen in whatever way it will happen and that we will make the most of it.
We review the scores that were introduced the day before - some are happy for this repetition, while others are frustrated that we have not introduced some of the other „good“ scores that are on the test-drive, waiting list. Scores have not been matched with location, as some of us had thought would happen, that part will apparently come tomorrow - or not.
Some time after 10pm the hundred of us push outside the studios for our first full-group experiment/rehearsal. As for myself, I push against the fatigue I am feeling, and my body‘s desire to shut down for the evening. The momentum of the group helps me to overcome my own inner obstacles. This moment is, of course, important for the group. We are entering the next stage of discovering who we are as a group and our potential.
We settle along a long shawdowed section of boardwalk, brick buildings to one side, a scattering of interactive sculptures on the other, a wide gravel walkway between. The scores we have practiced and created in the studio seem to loose some of their aliveness out in public. Do they make sense in this space and to a public? How do we integrate them into the space? Or more importantly, how do we integrate ourselves into the space? After a somewhat mechanical process of following score after score, we arrive at something more organice, that is somewhere beween performance and jamming. It is in this stage that we acheive greater listening as a group.
DAY 5/ DAY 1 Performance
Following a long lounging brunch, we convene once again and try out several new scores. There is an urgency, several in the group feel the need to provide some leadership. Last minute tips are to sense the space and the architecture. „Can we agree,“ asks Pipaluk, „that we are doing this for ourselves?“ „That we shouldn‘t feel the need to perform for an audience?“
Location 1 - Saint Hans Torv, Nørrebro
The neighborhood of Nørrebro was initially a working class area with small apartments, but has in recent decades boasted a strong youth culture with numerous hip bars, clubs, cafes, and second hand stores. Sain Hans Torv, the site of our performance, has been the central point for Copenhagen protests and demonstrations (some of which turned into riots), and is also the site of other outdoor activities, such as music concerts and 100 dancers. (More info here on Saint Hans Torv protests and Copenhagen's abundance of special public spaces.) At the center of our performance was Jørgen Sørensen's interactive water sculpture, Huset der regner (The House of Rain).
During these lovely Copenhagen summer days, cafe tables pour out onto city squares and sidewalks, and appear to be perpetually filled by the stylishly clothed Danes. This is particularly true of San Hans Trov. By the time the 100 of us slowly pedal our way through the city center and arrive in Nørrebro, it is around 5pm, and the scores of cafe tables situated along one side of the square are nearly every single one occupied. (Danes purportedly enjoy a shorter workday than many other parts of the world, often leaving work by 4pm.)
From my perspective it seems that we have quickly descended on the square and the sculpture at its center. I have taken a few minutes to place Theo, my son, in a secure place amongst the cafe viewers (he had fallen asleep during the bike ride.) Within those first few minutes, a lot is already happening in the space. We have filled the space: the center, the area around the center and the outer ring of space. I watch for several minutes, observing, gaging how I can fit in and what I might be able to offer. If I were asked what the space needs, my first reaction would have been "nothing more!" It could do with less. In the distance, on the periphery of the space, I notice one dancer with an urban street dance flare engaged in fast-foot dance atop a metal trash receptacle. I decide to support on the periphery as well, choosing to balance atop a meter or so high rectangular pilar that forms the corner of a bench where spectators sit. Not long afterwards another dancer joins me on the pilar at the opposite end of the long stone bench. I make connections with other dancers in the space - an attempt by us to find some unity in our spontaneous creation.
I remain on the pilar for nearly three-quarters of our time in this location. I only come off the pilar, when a group score which we all know is initiated. The score requires us to quickly to come together in a tight group, and has the effect of clearing the space. After a short time swaying together we expand back out into the space, dancing in solo and duets. It is only a few minutes before we retreat back to our bikes across the street. I am not sure what to make of our first performance, and am somewhat baffled by the sheer numbers of us--how do we stay connected as a group? how can we organize the space? how can we create watchable composition? Being a single individual I felt my ability to contribute in a positive way to be limited. Nonetheless, I must add, that I remain excited by the challenge of working improvisationally with such a large group, and am interested in the structures and solutions that we create as a group.
Unfortunately I haven't located any photos from this site!
The neighborhood of Nørrebro was initially a working class area with small apartments, but has in recent decades boasted a strong youth culture with numerous hip bars, clubs, cafes, and second hand stores. Sain Hans Torv, the site of our performance, has been the central point for Copenhagen protests and demonstrations (some of which turned into riots), and is also the site of other outdoor activities, such as music concerts and 100 dancers. (More info here on Saint Hans Torv protests and Copenhagen's abundance of special public spaces.) At the center of our performance was Jørgen Sørensen's interactive water sculpture, Huset der regner (The House of Rain).
During these lovely Copenhagen summer days, cafe tables pour out onto city squares and sidewalks, and appear to be perpetually filled by the stylishly clothed Danes. This is particularly true of San Hans Trov. By the time the 100 of us slowly pedal our way through the city center and arrive in Nørrebro, it is around 5pm, and the scores of cafe tables situated along one side of the square are nearly every single one occupied. (Danes purportedly enjoy a shorter workday than many other parts of the world, often leaving work by 4pm.)
From my perspective it seems that we have quickly descended on the square and the sculpture at its center. I have taken a few minutes to place Theo, my son, in a secure place amongst the cafe viewers (he had fallen asleep during the bike ride.) Within those first few minutes, a lot is already happening in the space. We have filled the space: the center, the area around the center and the outer ring of space. I watch for several minutes, observing, gaging how I can fit in and what I might be able to offer. If I were asked what the space needs, my first reaction would have been "nothing more!" It could do with less. In the distance, on the periphery of the space, I notice one dancer with an urban street dance flare engaged in fast-foot dance atop a metal trash receptacle. I decide to support on the periphery as well, choosing to balance atop a meter or so high rectangular pilar that forms the corner of a bench where spectators sit. Not long afterwards another dancer joins me on the pilar at the opposite end of the long stone bench. I make connections with other dancers in the space - an attempt by us to find some unity in our spontaneous creation.
I remain on the pilar for nearly three-quarters of our time in this location. I only come off the pilar, when a group score which we all know is initiated. The score requires us to quickly to come together in a tight group, and has the effect of clearing the space. After a short time swaying together we expand back out into the space, dancing in solo and duets. It is only a few minutes before we retreat back to our bikes across the street. I am not sure what to make of our first performance, and am somewhat baffled by the sheer numbers of us--how do we stay connected as a group? how can we organize the space? how can we create watchable composition? Being a single individual I felt my ability to contribute in a positive way to be limited. Nonetheless, I must add, that I remain excited by the challenge of working improvisationally with such a large group, and am interested in the structures and solutions that we create as a group.
Unfortunately I haven't located any photos from this site!
Location 2 - Square/sports field
Contained space
Location 3 - Along Søerne (The Lakes) near Fredens Park
Søerne consists of five rectangular lakes along the western edge of the city center, and are surrounded by paths which are popular for strolling and jogging.
Søerne consists of five rectangular lakes along the western edge of the city center, and are surrounded by paths which are popular for strolling and jogging.
Photo by Juho Jouhtimäki
Photo by Juho Jouhtimäki
Photo by Emelie
DAY 6/ DAY 2 Performance
We, as a group, have reinvinted ourselves, and arrived at a new height of togetherness!
In the early afternoon we join in groups to discuss our first day of performance.
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| Glittering our faces and the floor of the state dance studio Photo by Michal Ratajski  |
Photo by Emelie Bardon
Location I: City Center by
Photo by Knud Waits
Location II: In front of Christiansborg Slot
This is the home of the Danish Parliament, the Danish Primer Minister's Office and the Danish Supreme Court. In addition several parts of the palace are used by the Danish Monarchy. The large cobblestone courtyard directly in front of the governmental palace is mostly empty, and not so inviting. We sweep through the courtyard on our bikes, bringing some color and movement to the heavy gray-stone environment. It is a place that doesn't invite change, or movement - at least, this is my feeling of the place. The wide open space is also daunting. How will we work here?
We have agreed to begin with bike choreography. I haven't learned any bike choreography - perhaps I missed this? - so I watch carefully to see if I catch on to any patterns.
This is the home of the Danish Parliament, the Danish Primer Minister's Office and the Danish Supreme Court. In addition several parts of the palace are used by the Danish Monarchy. The large cobblestone courtyard directly in front of the governmental palace is mostly empty, and not so inviting. We sweep through the courtyard on our bikes, bringing some color and movement to the heavy gray-stone environment. It is a place that doesn't invite change, or movement - at least, this is my feeling of the place. The wide open space is also daunting. How will we work here?
We have agreed to begin with bike choreography. I haven't learned any bike choreography - perhaps I missed this? - so I watch carefully to see if I catch on to any patterns.
Location III: Boat Trip
Location IV: Beach (cancelled)
DAY 7/ DAY 3 Performance
Location I: Christiania - bridge, in front of gymnasium
Sound Installation in Christiania
Photo by Emelie Bardon
Photo by Emelie Bardon
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyiz2A3GiuE&feature=player_embedded#at=108
CCTV Music is an interactive installation where movements trigger sounds through motion tracking via camera. In this clip, participants of the 100 Dancers Conference are trying out possibilities in a sound set-up by Christian Björklund. Visit us at http://qaw.se for more information.
Photos by Eivind Rønn
Location II: Metro Station Christianhavn
Photo by Knud Waits
Photo by Knud Waits
Photo by Michal Ratajski
Location III: Waterfront at
DAY 8/ DAY 4 Performance
Location I: Havn street
Location II: To Queen's Gardens, starting by State Theater
Photo by Knud Waits
Location III: The Little Mermaid
Our next stop was the iconic emblem of Copenhagen the "Little Mermaid". To arrive there we wound our way along a scenic bike path, amidst blooming gardens, the bay extending to one side, passing old treasured buildings, such as the round-stoned church, .
Photo by Knud Waits
Location IV: Industrial Copenhagen - sound/video installation
