Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The Changing Nature of Memory

We think that our memories remain unchanged, that they are permanently engraved in our brains.  However neuroscientists have shown that our memories are constantly remodeled, changing with new circumstances and events.  In order to change, memories have to be conscious and become the focus of our conscious attention.  During rehearsal, when the dancers consciously recall past circumstances and we focus on them as inspirational material for the dance, this presents opportunities for change. 

The neural connections in the brain can be rewired as a result of working with old memories, old connections can be weakened and new ones made, resulting in new ways of responding to certain circumstances.  Besides the memories existing in the brain, I believe that we store our memories in the muscles and cells of our bodies also, and working through old memories with movement provides a powerful catalyst for change and healing.   This is one way that the process of making art becomes transformational for the artist and one reason that the process is both difficult and rewarding.  Artists often talk about the process itself being more important than the final product.  I have found that the process has its own direction and logic and that the more I try and impose a direction the harder it gets. 

At some point I have to release control and let it go where it wants to, and I have to be comfortable feeling like I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going a good part of the time.  This doesn't mean that I don't plan and think about my projects, I do a lot of preparation before beginning a project and during the project itself, but at some point I always seem to have to let go and follow some kind of intuition that is often not conscious on my part.  On good days the dance makes itself and I step out of the way.  It sounds very mystical and mysterious, but it doesn't feel like that when it happens, it just feels like everything clicks into place and the source of inspiration and ideas keep flowing.  Then of course there are the days when nothing seems to come and my mind is a blank slate.  That's when I have to push and plow and struggle.  Sometimes the dancers want to know where we're heading in the dance, and I have to tell them that I don't know but by working it will eventually become clear. 

Not surprisingly, imagination can also change the structure of the brain.  Every thought we have alters the physical state of our brain synapses at a microscopic level.  While it's not yet understood exactly how thoughts change the brain structure, it is now known that they do, which has both positive and negative potential.  Could it be that the spiritual mystics and gurus were right all along when they stressed the importance of each thought and the effects that they have on each one of us?

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Homeostasis

Homeostasis usually refers to the physiological state whereby the body seeks to maintain an internal stability or balance and will work hard to return that state if something brings it out of balance.  I think there is also a desire for emotional homeostasis wherein we seek emotional equilibrium and are very uncomfortable when a situation threatens to disrupt our balance.  This presents a dilemma when delving into the psyche for material for a dance. 

How do we explore personal topics that are potential emotional minefields to get at the material that can be transformed into something that speaks to an audience?  This problem presented itself during our recent rehearsals for our new work on perception/memory.  In mining their pasts for material, the dancers found it painful to continually return to emotionally charged memories when rehearsing and it negatively affected their feelings about the rehearsals themselves.

 However isn't it possible to use the past to come up with initial material, and then let the kinesthetics of the movement itself become the point of attention in subsequent rehearsals rather than the original memories?  The movement then becomes imbued with emotional intensity and honesty as the dancer hones and works on it, so that each movement has an emotional resonance.   And what about holding a state of uncomfortableness while continuing to work and not having that state negatively impact you?  We're called on in life to endure feeling uncomfortable and to learn how to function while in that state.

 It requires that we be able to be in the state of unease and at the same time maintain a certain detachment, not denying what we are feeling, but at the same time not immersing ourselves in the feeling.  I think a lot of learning can happen in that kind of situation and that ultimately it is a tool for growth.