When I left BodyVox to start Lane Hunter › Dance, I thought that everything would be like this photo. Well, it hasn’t been. Filling out legal papers, running board meetings, begging for money, designing websites and trying to be a marketer, blogger and twitterer have all gotten in the way of doing the thing that I am good at and love to do. And frankly, it’s really affecting my KiBun (Korean for personal energy). So I’m gonna fix it and you can help.

I’ve decided that at least twice a month I’m going to scrape together $30 to rent a studio for one hour and work on choreography and just dance. You know, the kind you do with “guilty pleasure” songs when no one’s looking? The way I used to before the weight of the world pinched that nerve in my neck and clubbed me in the shins. And, I’m inviting you, if you’d like to come. Free of charge to play with me. Warm yourself up and then I’ll start generating movement for you to learn.  Sometimes I just need to see someone else do it instead of my own reflection in the living room window. I can’t practice my craft by myself… and I find myself by myself a lot these days.

If you’d like to join me, learn some “rubber-limbed anatomic liberations of improbable curls and extensions” (thanks Bob Hicks, Oregonian) and help me figure out some moves that may end up in LH>D’s upcoming show, SHOTGUN, I think it would be fun. Send me a note on facebook or to lane@lanehunter.com and I’ll let you know where and when the first meeting will be (within the next 2 weeks).

I look forward to getting our groove on and until then, let this inspire you: The SOUL Train

My initial thought was that these donations were so stinking cute I should frame them. But then, I thought the “Greater Than” thing to do is to use this money to make the best show possible. That’s what I do with every donation I get.

Fortunately for you, the process is even easier. You can follow the good example of these young philanthropists by clicking this link and help us begin work on Shotgun!

Thank You Kate and Natalie! I’ll do you proud and can’t wait to see you at the show.

Today, I woke up to the kind of weather that Portlanders don’t like to tell others about.  As far as the majority of you are concerned, it was a grey —I like to spell it that way because it emphasizes the “eh” sound and doesn’t rhyme with “yeah”—day. For the rest of you locals, you know that the air was crisp and clean, the sun arced across the south half of the sky, and nary a windshield wiper squealed all the way home. I’m sure I was supposed to do something inside but instead I headed out to Interstate Avenue to do some prep work for an upcoming project.

On Interstate there is a string of old school motels that may have been built in the late 50’s. They all have great signs but by far the king of them is The Palms Motor Hotel with it’s rusty metal and neon mirage of two palm trees and a monkey growing out of the dessert that is Portland, Oregon. This area of town has seen the worst of it with poverty, drugs, and all the pitfalls that befall any neighborhood that is separated from the one that is knighted “Down Town.” But recently it’s been getting it’s tummy tucked and crows feet smoothed over. The roots have been freshly dyed and new establishments like “New Seasons” have sounded the call that it’s okay to come outside. I wonder what will be the fate of these motels. I’m not sure who is actually using them at this point because there are nicer hotels just a mile down the road with more amenities and the glitter of being in down town Portland. As the neighborhood  grows and becomes more affluent and family friendly, then the need for hourly rates and cheap living becomes less necessary.

So I’m not sure what’s to become of the Palms but today it is my subject. And the assignment of the day is to see if I can photograph the 30 foot sign it a way that will make it seem as if it is a toy model. If successful, then I will be able to move deeper into the set design of our Fall show Psycho. I’m working with projections of still and motion photography and manipulating size and perspective to create a world where it is uncertain what is real and what is artificial. The way I see it, Norman Bates has lost that foundation himself and lives within a Fun House of mirrors distorting the reflections of people and places that surround him. It’s not easy to navigate a world where obstacles that loom large suddenly slip beneath your feet and chores that seems so insignificant knock you flat on your back. I’m certain that’s one of the many reasons people are drawn to Norman when they should be disgusted. We’ve all been there…at least emotionally.

So here are a few shots from the day’s scouting. They may or may not make it into the show but they may influence the final product. Enjoy.

Sometimes when I’m being quiet, I’d reach over and grab The New Yorker just to read the comics while the laughter rings on. On this occasion I didn’t even make it to the jokes. Toward the front of the magazine was a publicity photo for a performance of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night starring Anne Hathaway, Audra McDonald and Raul Esparza. It’s stunning. Literally, a two and a half inch square that made me tune out the sounds of the bar entirely. I took the magazine home and contacted the New Yorker and then the production staff to figure out how to get a copy of this photo. They said they couldn’t…or wouldn’t, or whatever. All I knew was I was empty handed.

That’s when it came to me. “Tatiana could do this.” She’s brilliant at capturing facial expressions and this photo had lots of that. There’s the central figure, female but dressed in male clothing, shocked at someone planting a passionate kiss on her. The woman on the left, the kisser, barely has her face toward the camera but the vein in her neck is exposed and pulsing. Follow that vein down the arm to her hand which holds a glistening sword. Follow the sword straight to the heart of the anguished man grieving on the shoulder of the original figure. This is dance for the eyes, circling and curving and bouncing from character to character, reading the lines, sending pulses of sublime passion, tortured heartache, and stunned guilt straight to one’s chest.

It was a tall order. There was such simplicity and complexity in the same photo. She took on the challenge and delivered. Now, the work is a thirty-six inch square and has even more depth and layering that the original couldn’t have. It inspires me to create dances with movement and passion that communicate such rich emotions without words.

If you would like to see other work by Tatiana DeFigueiredo or have her create something especially for you, check out her site http://www.designbytatiana.com

I’m not sure what this particular photographer was going for but I’m fairly certain that Isaac and I didn’t deliver it. The photographer had handed Isaac a to-go container of something sooty and black to rub all all over his body and face. I was left to my almost translucent pallor.  I think the idea was somewhere between a grimy Herb Ritts mechanic and a sexually charged Maplethorpe duo. Again, we did not deliver. I will have to admit that while I am in shape, I am not now, nor have I ever been, “ripped.” I love chocolate and can chug milk right out of the container. I somewhat affectionately refer to my arms as “pipecleaners” and my pecs have never fully taken the initiative to distinguish themselves from the rest of my torso. So here we are, Isaac and myself, Grimy and Pasty, Young and Less Young, twisted together and waiting for the photographer to get his lighting correct. Small talk ensues.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m a film student.”

“Really? I’m a choreographer. Would you be interested in a little project?”

By “little project” I meant two short films that I wanted to bookend the dances in my first show The Beginning is Near. By “would you be interested” I meant “will you hold duct-taped VHS camera?” Isaac came with a professional digital camera, a boom, monitors, a clapboard and a very intelligent, creative and enthusiastic mind. I was stunned when I saw the results. The lighting, angles and editing was so beautiful, I suddenly felt the pressure to make certain that the rest of the show had the same level of beauty as these two films.You have decided to improve

Recently, I asked Isaac to help me out with the Greater Than campaign. This was the result. I explain to Isaac the mood I am trying to achieve. He gets set up and then suddenly, he is the choreographer. He sees the buildings, the streets, the sun and moves around until the moment that is captured is in total harmony with the ideal that I had in mind. I just jump, but he gets the rest of the cast to support what I am doing. I know that Isaac will go far with his art. I hope that our collaborations continue to be a part of that journey. If not, I’m so glad he has been willing to work with me on these projects.

Check out Isaac’s personal work here. Hire him.

Thanks to Tatiana and Mikey who sat patiently pretending to work while I gave my quads and hamstrings a workout.

Starting February 6th, 2011, Lane Hunter will be teaching a weekly master class that disguises fitness in fun. It’s all about being “Greater Than.” Movement is one of the best ways to shrug off the tension of all your responsibilities and chores. Bartinieff Fundamentals and Pilates will rejuvinate your core (but you don’t care about that—you wanna feel strong and thin). Ballet will elongate your limbs (but you’re more concerned with uncurving that computer slump). Jazz will make you feel sexy. (Okay, we all care about that.) And Modern will give you the suppleness to shift through life’s onslaught of obstacles. Good music, easy going environment and Lane’s signature curly-cue movement will have you forgetting you’re even exercising.

When: Sundays (Starting February 6th, 2011) 9:30-10:45am

Where: The Mouth Studios, 806 SE Belmont Street (the back end of the orange building)

How much: $12 drop in fee, $50 for 5 class card.

See you there.

I can’t even remember what it was I was searching for on the internet–probably vintage patterns or something of the sort—when I came across this photo. It was on the website for Harlick Skating Boots. It seems like a pretty straight forward site for ordering your skates but it has a gallery of some great photographs of skaters throughout the years who have used Harlick’s boots. Most of the photos have some background info on who the skaters are and where they came from. But this one is blank. An unknown skater who simply signed her photo “Affectionately, Willie.”

There are so many reasons I love this photo. First and foremost, a girl named “Willie.” Her name was probably Wilhelmina, Wilfred, or Wilona. Something too stodgy for her carefree spirit. Cutting it and her skirt length short, she is free to be who she feels she is and not the calligraphied label on her birth certificate. Second, the photographer has captured her forever in a moment of pure euphoria, somewhere between crisp focus and indefinite movement. Her spine curves back to display her joyful smile and rosy cheeks. And third, the void of architectural reference tilts the ice almost completely vertical as if it is a chalk board half scribbled on and half ready to be scribbled.

This photograph not only greets me on my nightstand each morning, reminding me to be more carefree and enjoy life, but it also gave me the proper mood to explore in my mixed media work Dear Mr. Rohrschach. I wanted to explore the what I assumed would be a cathartic and stress-relieving exercise of creating the infamous Rohrschach inkblot tests. Sure, the idea is that looking at the abstract inkblots makes you say things that may or may not give insight to the therapist psycho-analyzing you. But Dr. Rohrschach himself must have seen things in each blot himself and chose them for his test. The dance hopefully succeeds in capturing both the reverie of Dr. Rohrscach and the ecstasy of this unknown skater.

So to you Willie, whoever you are, I am affectionately yours.

Dear Mr. Rorschach (live performance)

I met Eric when he performed for my show a few years back. Aside from looking like—as my sisters sigh it—”Prince Charming,” he is a good souled, generous and kind-hearted man. He also happens to be incredibly talented in many forms of dance, fitness training, pilates, etc. We met up recently to catch up on lives and projects and he told me about his class he was teaching on Sundays at the Center for Movement Arts.. I gave him every excuse I have to avoid exercising. (I hate self-inflicted pain. I don’t like monotony. I don’t need those muscles until I need them.) Eric didn’t waver and assured me that the method of his class was based on his many years over studying physical therapy, dance and psychology. Basically, I had no where to run. So promised to attend.

I always get a little nervous attending a new class. The obvious reasoning is that I don’t know anyone. The less obvious one is that as a professional dancer/choreographer I assume everyone expects me to be spot on and able to do anything thrown my way. So I never want to disappoint them. But Eric welcomed me and set me up at a barre and class was off.

Let me sum it up before getting into details; This class is basic and straight forward, moving quickly from exercise to exercise with intelligent options for varying degrees of difficulty. Within 5 minutes I was sweating and feeling elongated yet strong.

Now for the details: Do you need to know how to dance to take this class? Somewhat. I mean, you start out standing at the ballet barre but this is not advance ballet frappes or tedious repetition of tendus. All of the exercises are focused on the core and go through some ballet-like movements that you you can pick up by looking in the mirror at the other participants. If you have ever (I mean ever) taken just one class in ballet, you’re good to go. Then it’s onto the the mat with some more core work informed by Eric’s certification in Stott Pilates. All of this is conducted with a trained and gentle guidance to achieve your potential. I pushed and found some difficulty in the exercises but I certainly didn’t feel thrown into the fire like many work-out programs do. (P90X, you know who you are.) This is the really good stuff that makes you feel trim and skinny. So good.

Now it’s my understanding that if you want to just come for the exercise portion of the class you may. And it’s a good option since it is a condensed and streamlined approach to long lean muscles. But the second half of the class is when all of that exercise comes to life as Eric takes you through some jazz-based dance routines. It’s pretty straight forward but with enough hooks and changes of weight and direction that it keeps your brain entertained. I love those kind of classes where it takes you a few times across the floor before you figure out the coordination of it. Plus, Eric uses great music and is such a showman that it feels like by the end of the class you’ll be ready for your premiere at the Folies Bergere.

And the kicker? (Pun fully intended) The total of this event is merely $12. That’s unheard of even for Portland’s standard which is nearly $20 for an hour and a half. And true to Eric’s sensible framework, the class is offered every Sunday except the last one of the month so you can get your groove on in bite sized doses. It’s ingenious. Just go. You’ll have a blast, you’ll be challenged, and you’ll feel great. And right afterward, we can all go to the Burgerville down the street.

You can find out more about it on his facebook page.

Those of you who know me, know that I started out dancing as Folk Dancer at Brigham young University who has an extensive dance program and an amazing Folk Scene. In fact, I would never had been a dancer to the extent I am now if it hadn’t been for this program. And as, I have continued to explore more and more into artistic dance, my first love has always been folk dance. Why? I guess because I’m enamored by the exotic. I love languages. I get weak-kneed exploring the differences and similarities between people. And as a dancer, I can learn all about those people by trying their moves on myself. It’s my way of listening to centuries of trials and triumphs boiled down into a 3 minute phrase of movement that everyone does in unison. I love it.

So last night I show up, a little anxious about not knowing anyone and a little nervous that I seem to be the youngest person there, by decades. They seemed a little apprehensive themselves but were welcoming and Cricket (I kid you not, that’s her amazingly disarming and charming name) asked me join a Bulgarian line dance. I think this was my initiation because once the dance was going and we are all chained up she leans in my direction without skipping a step and says, “I think you can get through 2/3 of this dance but you may have to step out after that.” Aha, this was just the challenge I was looking for. And sure enough, 2 minutes into that song, the pre-recorded musicians amp it up and start playing double time and suddenly before me is a complex Bulgarian rhythm—usually some absurd meter like 17/8 or 11/65—and an odd foot pattern to match without throwing the whole chain into chaos. With eyes trained firmly on Cricket’s feet and trying to send the visual clues into my own feet I get it and jump in with fervor. As the song ends, the immediate dancers applaud and gather round and one be-dirndled lady goads, “Well, someone’s a quick study now isn’t he?” After that I was in. Each new song from the gentelman’s computer in the corner was an invitation to hang on and follow until the end.

The evening lasted until 10pm. I couldn’t believe that they do this every Sunday. I met Mary, a bright face with an even brighter smile, who was wearing a beautifully embroidered traditional Austrian dress but was Irish by descent. Rosalind and Dick who made sure i was aware of all of the future events. And I met Gene who proudly informed me that his father was an earler partner of Ann Miller, danced in old musicals, and was the tap teacher of Bob Hope. There was one lady, who’s name I didn’t catch, was 93 years old and kept going most of the night. I couldn’t believe it. My only complaint of the evening is that the students of Reed College are oblivious to this weekly event taking place on their campus and it’s a real loss to not have that interaction.

I loved learning the steps, I loved hearing the strange names and trying to figure out which country it was from and what that dance taught me about the people. I loved holding their hands, men and women, and joining in the focus of moving as a single unit with a single mind. I loved the comradarie and the community of it. And—this is where my age may suddenly sky-rocket beyond those of my dance partners—I think that the invention of Rock-n-Roll has created a world where people dance in clubs, introverted and self-centered, never learning how to guide a dance partner, join a circle or engage in a conversation while whirling around the floor. I guess I’m an old Folk at heart. Opa!

The imagery for Shotgun—the new work—is becoming more and more clear in my mind. Periodic checks with my mastermind friend Lyndsay assure me that things are possible or a challenge. She never tells me it’s impossible and I love that about her.

While I ride the bus around town I listen to music. This is when they start to jockey for position and guide the arc of the show. It doesn’t all make it into the show but it’s influence can change the look of a dance or even the show. Right now I’m listening to Sufjan Stevens and I’m pretty sure he’s made the cut. And Nick Drake’s haunting melodies are so beautiful I love to dance to them. I think he might get in there as well. Now the joy and agony of researching music is that I find so many great songs but so few that allow me to use or manipulate them to out of their completed state into the message I’m trying to send. I mean, if could just use any music that made me dance I’d have “Grazin’ in the Grass” in every show I ever made. “I can dig it. Dig it. He can dig it. Dig it. They can dig it. Dig it. Dig it. Can you dig it?”

So that’s the news from the progress of my latest choreography. And I’ll leave you with this teaser: There is another bigger and even more exciting project on the horizon that is so fantastic I want to run around telling everyone about it. But, I have to keep a lid on it for now until it is more solidified. I don’t want to jinx it but I also don’t want to stifle it so this me sending all of my hopes of its fruition through this blog out into the universe. Get ready for it.