Gwendolyn Gussman
November 23 2020
I think many of us can agree, these past 8 months have been a time of unexpected (and sometimes unwanted) change. When NYC announced it’s first stay-at-home order on Friday, March 13th, I had just taken ballet with Kelly Slough at Mark Morris and was on my way to rehearse for the 3rd day with a few dancers, musician and scenographer at The Cell Theater in Chelsea as part of our artist residency for my company, HOLDTIGHT. Just two weeks prior, I had finished a joyous season with Cherylyn’s company at The DiMenna Center. Little did I know this would be the last time I would dance in person (for now) with the CLD company, in which I've been privy to share the stage with since 2016.
Since late March, I’ve been living with my parents and my partner, Alex, who is also in the arts, in my childhood home in Denver, Colorado. It’s been quite a big shift from my near-decade of living and dancing in the big apple. I have a deep longing for the city and the community that supported my growth, pushed me, provided me some of my wildest, challenging, and most wonderful experiences plus introduced me to people I now think of as family. The dance community is one of those families. CLD is one of those families. During the first few months of COVID, Cherylyn hosted zoom cocktail-hours for the company-- this was a beacon of connection for me, a sweet and sometimes awkward new foray into staying in touch, giggling, seeing each other's faces and making sure everyone was staying healthy and doing OK. It was during one of these chats, that Cherylyn brought up the idea of relating the company’s latest work, Tales of Hopper, to a digital, and possibly Zoom, medium. We began ideating, chatting about inspiration like director Richard Nelson’s latest zoom play for The Public, and other work that was speaking to us during this time. In late summer, the cast of five of us from People in the Sun, plus Cherylyn and Corrine, began rehearsing and dipping our toes into how to translate the pre-existing work into something similar to the concert version, yet somehow a bit more raw, and extremely relevant for the current time. Cherylyn directed us while Corrine helped us navigate Zoom, reminding us generously of who was to whom’s left in the grid of boxes, etc. During the first rehearsal, I remember the feeling of giddiness, and I remember feeling happily surprised that the work, the community, the sense of creating, could transmit through all these layers that many of us aren’t used to working with so closely. The vibe of the piece began to shift into a darker, perhaps more frustrated, and at times bewildered characterization of the original choreography. Hopper’s painting took on a new feel for us all, one that I found had altered nuance and tapped into a different set of emotions and subtle gestures to play off of, within the piece.
It’s safe to say that these past few months have offered me new insights and taught me more about things that I feel are heavy and light. One of the greatest insights has been about connection, art-making, and the intense meaning that the sharing of art and creation has on my own life, and the lives of many in my communities, in our country, and in our world. There have been times, just like in “real-life” or should I call it, the in-person world, when I’ve felt drained or lackluster about an upcoming rehearsal. Yet, I try my best to make it a priority, and I’m always grateful I did... especially during this time. While many of us have experienced varying degrees of grief and loss over these months, I have found beacon’s of fulfillment and hope with action. Some of the most special experiences and moments i’ve had over the past 8 months have been with those I get to continue to collaborate with, like CLD, as well beginning a new creation for Vanessa Walters’ ‘Ripening’, as well as continuing to create and present my own work with
HOLDTIGHT and my awesome collaborators, both through digital platforms with The Cell Theater, as well as a series of live performances in Denver we did earlier this fall.
Yes, these past months have been weird and very unsettling, and I imagine much of that will continue. AND, I continue to count my blessings, to feel a little spark of joy each time I login to Zoom knowing I am in a position of health and opportunity to continue to collaborate and create with my fellow artists. And for that, even when days feel dark, I can see the light.