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Post Première blues

24th of December.

A day after the last show of Mood Shifters.


I knew it was going to come and I hoped this time I would be more ready for it.

But like every time it hit me.


Part of the life of a choreographer is the interminable sequence of highs and lows. The rush of adrenaline of creation, the tension before premiere, the stress of tech days, the last minute changes, the emergencies, the unexpected... Creating during Covid times made us ready to literally everything.

And then 26 minutes of pure joy, concentration, fun, release, watching the incredible dancers Gary, Alex and Zina transforming on stage into wild beasts outrunning every expectation I had, feeling grateful for their explosive performance and knowing I might have something to do with all of this.


And after the show: the bows, the applauses, the compliments, the pride, the satisfaction, the talks, the gossip, the jokes…

One hour passes and everyone goes home and carries on with their life, like we all do after a movie or after a book.

Whatever good the piece did to us becomes a private thing, an other experience on the shelf.


Not for the choreographer though.


I often say that a creation is like a baby…the problem is that after the show i don't get to go home with it.

I don’t get to hold it, watch it. The only thing that stays with me are the memories of those moments, and the hope it will happen again.

The piece will only grow if it’s performed again and again, and that will take time and organisation and energies, all things that the day after a show I am too exhausted to even think about.


In other words... i am sad.

And what makes me even more sad is that I should and could be happy. People tell me I should be proud of what I created and I think: yes but where is it? Where did it go? Show it to me!


Post premiere blues make me think about the sustainability (economical and emotional) of the dance art form.

The disproportional gap between the investment and the return.

The weaknesses of this system and the fragility of my desire.

But maybe this is a good call for a 2022 resolution. How to transform an art by nature so ephemeral into something solid and durable. How to nourish all my babies and let them live on and develop in their full potential.


Advices are welcome…


Merry Christmas




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