Where to Put the Blanket Joanna Lesnierowska	1/7

Beginnings

I feel that what we've been doing for the last five weeks is bigger than just performance. This show is carrying so much more than the audience can ever know, not having been a part of the process. I wish [they] could have been here every single day in class because it just has been so much more than just making a piece of art.

With these words, said just before the opening performance of Where to Put the Blanket, Alison D'Amato, a young Philadelphia dancer, subtly touched on the essence of Dance Discursion: Poland/Philadelphia 2004, an uncommon project I had the honor to participate in. Performances of Where to Put the Blanket, presented during the Philadelphia Live Arts Festival, were only part of a dancer and choreographer development project initiated by Dance Advance in Philadelphia. The performances were seen as an integral, but not superior part of the five-week process–unlike in the theater where performances constitute the fulfillment of everyone's efforts.

In addition to D'Amato, the project's young Philadelphia dancers, who had been invited to join the project during workshop-auditions in April 2004, included Reñe Robinson-Buzby, Kristen Shahverdian, and Christina Zani, and they were joined by Polish artists Jacek Łumiński (choreographer and founder of Silesian Dance Theatre), Tomek Wesołowski (a dancer in the Silesian Dance Theatre), and composer Wojtek Blecharz. The project was not only a dance-making process; it was first of all a cerebral experience in which all the project participants journeyed into the depths of their artistic experiences and beliefs. Or perhaps it would be better to say they began a journey, as Robinson-Buzby affirms: "the whole process is still like the beginning." The energy of this reflection reverberates, as this essay will demonstrate; and I hope that my attempt to describe what went on in the Susan Hess Modern Dance (SHMD) studio in August 2004 will continue the process by inspiring the development of ideas raised by the project in the Summer of 2005, when all the participants reunite in Poland.

Before I contribute to the process, though, I feel it's important to speak about my presence in the project, because a dance writer rarely has the honor to engage so deeply with an artistic process. Bill Bissell, Director of Dance Advance, invited me to join the project not only as a critic knowledgeable about the history of dance and theatre, but as a Polish dance writer who is deeply familiar with the artistic activities of Jacek Łumiński and the cultural context of his work. Bissell asked me to report on the project and evaluate it critically, and offered me the role of an observer, an external third eye, who–while close to the artistic process–is at the same time able to assess its value and name what often remains unnoticed and inexpressible through words by the artists.

From the very outset of the project, however, it was clear to all of us that my daily presence in the room (during the first week and then from week four until the final performances) was an unusual experience that constituted more than merely observing. It was, rather, a kind of initiation into a world usually barred to critics. And I got to ask questions I hadn't been able to ask before. I participated actively in Łumiński's technique classes, which were open to the Philadelphia community, and I was able to watch afternoon rehearsals and engage with the choreographer and dancers–all of which made me a rightful participant in the process undergone by our Polish-American artistic family (which we finally became). Instead of being the critic hiding in the darkness of the auditorium and evaluating the final product in seclusion from the artists, I became a befriended witness allowed into the secrets of a work's creation and even one who actively supported it.

The experience was special and exciting for me in every respect. Removing myself from everyday reality, immersing myself in the daily experiments in the studio, and participating in discussion enabled me to think over my beliefs and artistic concepts. In the first place, I could experience, just as the dancers did, Łumiński's original movement ideas (and consequently his theatrical ones), and I saw the seeds of Łumiński's work that had never before revealed themselves to me so strongly, even though I had often watched and written about his work. My task placed me in a fascinating position in the center of events, from which I could follow the process simultaneously from various perspectives.

Because of this diversity, the text you read now combines many sources of information: Łumiński's words, dancer interviews, and my own thoughts, opinions, and observations. An essential element of my reflections emerged from the dancers' willingness to share with me–on a regular basis–the events, experiences, and thoughts they recorded in their diaries during the project. I consider this access a sign of their acceptance and trust, which I value highly. The personal involvement these reflections reveal, about every stage and level of the project, demonstrate how significant those five weeks, full of hard work and fascinating challenges, turned out to be for each participant.