Demons and Dandelions explores the influence of addictions and bad habits, repetition as a coping mechanism, and an idiosyncratic movement vocabulary. The stages we experience in self-destructive cycles form the content of this work—from the initial cue that triggers us, to the reward and pleasure it brings, to the self-hate and regret we experience afterwards. This dance challenges us to alter our senses of space, time, and relationship to those around us. The dancers juggle between obscurity and clarity.
The dance consists of five dancers, two men and three women. The movement vocabulary is intricate and yet executed with ease, exhausting the capacity of the movers and challenging the audience members’ perception. The vocabulary is dense and effortful, at times asking the dancers to quake with muscular tension and at other times spiraling off kilter. The dancers indelicately jump over, interrupt, and clash with each other while moving articulately and on a cellular level.
Demons and Dandelions represents a psychological dialogue we attach to and relate with. In this dance we are looking at our the tendencies to bottle up emotions to make it seem as if everything is fine, similar to the way a dandelions bright yellow flower is opened up only during the daytime. Eventually we reach our breaking point and lash out, just as the dandelion flower changes into a seed head that becomes fragile and vulnerable. With the slightest gust of wind, the dandelion seeds detach and spread. I see this as a metaphor for how delicate our emotions are. This lifespan of a dandelion is an image for how we handle our internalized struggles, our inner demons.
Performer in “Reciprocity” a dance for camera by Alexis Crump