FAME TIME

Last night we spent the first half of rehearsal dancing—music blaring, limbs flailing, sweat flying.

Some discoveries:

Trevor and Randy both discovered a relationship to crouching—out of their movement they each found moments where they crumpled to the ground in a crouch that felt like a physical/visual manifestation of what Sheila was telling us yesterday about these non-naturalistic eruptions in which the baseline rumbling freaks out and then quickly recontains itself.

FBI Man’s dancing drew strongly on exercise/military training/martial arts—all the training he’s had, which led us to a discussion about the fact that FBI Man is a) probably drastically over-trained for his mission—he’s used to traversing hostile terrain, and he continues to use his skills in this assignment even though they’re a little over the top, just to keep himself in shape. Sorin also noted that if FBI Man learned to dance, he would learn superlatively and train with the same intensity he would apply to bootcamp or Koryu to be the most romantic, suavest ladykillerest dancer possible.

William had the most ethereal movement vocabulary/the least connection to the ground, and the most physically open. He and Randy had a strangely intimate duet that illuminated an underlying tenderness in their relationship that really opened it up. We continued to explore the idea of duets for Fame Time. Our Fame Time explorations found the giddiness of the initial burst of fame and as they moved into a darker, more dangerous place the movement became about pulling each other down instead of lifting each other (and especially Trevor) up. One idea we found involves possibly juxtaposing these two facets of fame simultaneously, with "happy fame" projected behind actors as they perform "brutal fame" live.