Walking around the gallery barefooted. Feeling the varying textures of the different spaces on my skin. I don’t think I have ever felt such a close connection to exhibited art. By allowing my flesh to become that of the walks and floors of the gallery I felt like art. We were all art. We were not distractions from the pieces but instead a moving installation at one and the same with the static pieces of art around us. Even the act of being spectated felt completely natural. Performing the early works in the gallery space was absolutely nothing like the jitter inducing act of performing onstage. I felt such an intimate connection with the other dancers and the space.
Some bits were frustrating although all seemed to just work better than we had ever experienced in the studio. It was the first time the work was adequately and completely contextualized. It was the first time everything felt natural. Part of me wishes we’d performed Newark in the gallery as well. I wonder if it would have made that piece feel as natural and as ours as the early works.