A statement

My mom was a dancer. A choreographer, in fact, but she never put us in dance classes. She knew it was difficult to make a life in the arts. When I was 13 however, while watching the balcony pas de deux from the ballet Romeo and Juliet on PBS’ Great Performances, I suddenly realized that I belong in the dance world. It wasn’t much of a “EUREKA!” moment, it was just a calm, sure knowing. A quiet “I could do that”.

Today I’m a choreographer whose roots are planted firmly in classical ballet, but who draws influence from contemporary dance, performance art, and sometimes vaudevillian theatre. I employ elements from classical ballet like emphasis on line, use of formations, theme and variation, and a more traditional structural arch— a beginning that introduces movement vocabulary, a middle that develops it, and an end that ties it all together. 

Despite having one foot firmly planted in tradition, I have developed my own unique choreographic voice. I’m a highly detailed and precise choreographer, qualities which lend a certain clarity to my work. My group work is lace-like in its intricacy, featuring substantial use of canons. I’m a very musical choreographer— almost a music visualist— and most of my work is inspired and shaped by the music that accompanies it. My work is recognized by its approachability and it’s often humorous. I shamelessly make dances with the engagement and enjoyment of my audience in mind.

As a feminist, I consider all my work to be feminist work, whether or not it explicitly addresses feminist themes, which it often does. 

 As a younger child, years before my quiet moment of “I could do that”, I used to request that my mom play Aaron Copeland’s Appalachian Spring at maximum volume and on repeat anytime we went on a road trip. I enjoyed closing my eyes and visualizing fantastical scenes to it: handsome elves on horseback galloping in time with the music on a flat, open plain towards a glittering castle at sunset. I was enthralled by the music and by the images it conjured. I remember being frustrated that there wasn’t some way of sharing with other people the scenes that were unfolding in my mind. So, looking back on it, I can see that I was always an artist at my core, but my dedication to dance gave me a medium. It gave me a focus. It gave me a way to share with people what goes on in my mind when I listen to music, and whatever else I care to share. 

Seeing my dances performed onstage is nothing short of miraculous to me every single time. I know I’ve found my calling and I’ll continue to make dances for the rest of my life.