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Roll with it.

  • Writer: Vice Versa
    Vice Versa
  • May 5
  • 2 min read

Updated: May 8

May is here already! In this series we will head back to March and ask our artists from FREEDOM OF MOVEMENT to share their thoughts on their creative process in conceptualizing the show, and experience of being immersed in an interactive performance space. Leading us off is Vice Versa founding partner and Philly native, Daniel Townsend!


Reflect on your process of creating an interdisciplinary, interactive show with Vice Versa. What did you learn? What was easy and what was difficult? Discuss how this show relates to other areas of your artistry or artistic philosophy.


Creating Vice Versa’s performance at the Perch in Philadelphia, PA taught me numerous valuable lessons about producing interactive experiences where audience members are part of the performance. So many fantastic moments occurred during that performance and the atmosphere of the show was indescribable. Upon deeper reflection, one of the most important takeaways for me is to embrace laughter in the creative process, as well as during the performance itself.


In this specific performance, my collaborators and I invited an intimate audience into quasi-ritualistic activities with no spoken words other than an opening invitation to join us and trust the mystery. We used shape, gesture, and a few visual materials to invite the audience to move, pose, and weave. A very brief comfortability in the beginning of the performance quickly gave way to audience members interacting with each other and following our silent instructions. We accented points throughout the show with musical gestures and used bodily motion to signal guideposts and rites of passage throughout the performance. 


Although we had no intention of being comical or funny, multiple moments in the performance elicited open laughter. The wonderful thing was; no one was the “wrong end” of any joke. It felt as though people were breaking barriers of conventional performance practice by laughing without stifling their natural tendencies. Those who attended found comfort and ease in a potentially vulnerable environment that included completing tasks with total strangers and unraveling the mystery of why any of this is happening at all.

In many productions, laughter is often reserved for when someone is attempting to actively draw a chuckle out of the crowd through an uncanny interaction or a subversion of expectations. Worse yet, laughter might occur when a mistake occurs on stage, prompting the performer to either charismatically “roll with it,” or flounder to pick up the pieces. Part of the beauty of this performance was that our improvisation –musically and bodily– meant that all the facilitators were in a constant state of “roll with it,” meaning we could easily flow with uncanny moments and allow ample room for the audience to express themselves as they desired.


When I am accompanying a dance class I feel as though I am charged with crafting a suitable atmosphere for the room. Although the music I play is serious and filled with purpose, I laugh often. I personally feel that allowing my natural human tendencies to peek through makes me more personable, and reminds people that they are creating something with another human, rather than simply a recording through speakers. I’m delighted that this tendency is pouring into other aspects of my performance practice and look forward to how this idea develops in the future.


 
 
 

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