I found myself in movement.
- Vice Versa
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read
Happy 2026! In this series of posts, we will have different collective members sharing their perspectives on art, performance, collaboration, improvisation, and creative practice. This month we hear from mover, choreographer, Director of CLOUDS dance company, and immersive parachute builder Olivia Emert!
Please shed light on where your art is rooted and how improvisation relates to your artistic process. How does your creative process shift when collaborating with others?
Since the first grade, I would have told you I was an artist, born to be an artist. In elementary school, I dove into my love for art through writing. I wrote as many words as I could fit on a page. My words needed drawings to accompany their narratives. I drew until I knew how to perfect the nook of a nose... well as perfect as anything a sixth grader could dream up. I learned to paint, to use charcoal, to sculpt, to collage, to use my hands to create people and scenes on pages. I moved on to cameras. I made short films around my neighborhood, learned the art of the darkroom at summer camp, and captured my friends through a lens. I acted on stage, sang in musicals, and got kicked out of the church band for not playing on tempo. I tried on every art form I could, but I slowly found myself in movement. Through the fashion show of art mediums, I was trying to find one that fit. One that was just comfortable enough to embrace life in. One that represented what I was trying to express. I took dance classes ever since I was in the second grade, but through the years I learned I could use dance to create what I was attempting to express through my other arts forms. I began choreographing in my basement to tell the stories of my big emotions.
I found myself in movement. Dance carried the full embodiment and actualization I was trying to make tangible. At the conservatory of University of Missouri City, I studied dance with the purpose to choreograph... to build my own worlds. In the conservatory, I built friendships and collaborations with music majors, film makers, and poets. I took part in collaborations with actors and learned how they approached movement. I choreographed for musicians who showed me how they heard movement. I explored behind my friend’s camera to create pieces that expand my lines beyond a stage. I have always been an artist seeking to create in multitudes.
After college, I attended improvisational jams with dancers that provided an incubator of spontaneity and experimentation. Dancers spoke. Dancers ran. Trusting my instincts, I learned to open my mind and allow myself to fully dive into play. To scream, to pick up a phone off the wall and pretend to call my mom, to hide behind curtains and trace the walls, to go beyond what a traditional dance world would see as improvisation. There is something about a collaborative space/time dedicated to open exploration. I become a child again. There are no limits. I am just free, creating worlds with others, building cityscapes together. I treasure being surrounded by artists all explaining their process through real time creation.
When Vice Versa asked me to be a part of their Kansas City showcase, I agreed immediately. Fostering collaboration and exploring through improvisation is always an immediate yes. The ability to share in art practice is a gift.
At Vice Versa’s Kansas City Showcase, every artist no matter the medium was so game to say yes and to dive into each other's creative fields. No one felt secluded in their artist bubble. We played the whole weekend; we painted, we sang, we moved, we did it all. A weekend of magical yes. Our task as a faculty show was to create in the world of rock, paper, scissors. A sense of play yet seriousness. A game, a battle and a ritual.
One of the most memorable moments was when I sat down at the piano bench with Dan. I challenged him to rock paper scissors while he was playing a song. We both couldn’t help but laugh. The feeling emerging from this improvisation for me was a childlike competitiveness and play. I hit a key on his keyboard. I thought he would react like an older brother and shove me away, but instead Dan invited me into his world and into his song. He pointed to a key to press, and I joined into his melody. He continued to tell me which keys to press as he continued to play with his left hand. Dan and I shared this moment of earnest conversation through piano keys. Eventually, I left his bench and let his music guide
my movement. This conversation never stopped. It continued to evolve.
I joined Vice Versa on our next adventure to “Yes &” with the Nelson Atkins Museum. Elena, Henry, Christine and I met up in the gallery for a series of three improvisations. We shared stories that we had with water, one of my favorite inspirations. We proceeded to play in this oceanic world. As bystanders wrote their memories on water on pieces of paper in the gallery. We slid. We chased. We laid on the ground. There were moments of chaotic cyclones and restful moments of rain. I remember weaving my arm through the space between Henry’s chest and his saxophone reaching for this world in between.
As I pulled my arm away, I rocked to his back. Christine followed my lead, rocking to Elena’s back. Our quartet was in perfect conversation. If I started a sentence, Christine would finish it. Henry echoed Elena and I echoed Henry who echoed Christine. We found this symbiotic relationship amongst our group, as if we created together all the time. It was our first performance together outside of one rehearsal. Dancing among the paintings in the beautiful gallery, inspired by words of strangers, sharing with friends, we
created magic.
Collaborations like these don’t shift who I am or how I practice, but it allows me to deepen into my art form and the choices I get to make. It helps broaden my mind to what movement can create and opens me up to more than a traditional dance space. It sinks into a new layer of opportunity and conversation in art making. I have so much respect and gratitude for these other artists and art mediums. I grew up learning to understand them and to try on their shoes. I settled into my movement practice, and now I get to admire all the mediums that allow my friends and collaborators to feel like they are wearing their comfortable magical pick of the fashion show. I get to make magic and say yes to anything ahead. Vice Versa brings together these magical artists and provides an incubator for opportunity.