April showers
Birds returning north
Snow almost gone from the forest floor
Early spring flowers blooming
Every year….

March is such a pivotal month, dominated by the sound of dripping.  I can see the creases in the field of snow as melting begins, the chickadees have changed their song, and the sun is stronger.

For whatever the reason, I have been thinking about the above choreographic concept we experimented with during the summer of 2021 when we first came together in the quarry after our COVID hiatus.

Here in Vermont, we are deep into winter. Where I live it is lightly snowing and blowing. As soon as it gets dark, I am reading for hours most evenings. As physical activity is curtailed, internal explorations expand.

This photograph of the House women stepping across the water onto their stage is a moment in the performance that always touched me, perhaps because they were the first to separate from the group, or perhaps because of that gap of water that encapsulated the unknown, the element of chance that was always present, where anything could happen.

Today, those of us in Vermont woke to snow. August seems a long way away with its heat, warm water and bare skin. These images of the performance help keep my spirits up and remind me that in order to have that, we have this, where grey is a dominant color.

The ensemble casts off for the final performance. So much care and love amongst us all.

We now have The Quarry Project books, postcards and notecards available to order online. Here is the link to The Shop. These images of Julia's hold such lovely memories!

As I listen to Emily’s narrative and watch the footage taken on Tuesday the 16th, I am once again deeply moved to have been part of this project, to experience the magic of the space, the way that art can thin the membrane between the world we know and the worlds we don’t, thus expanding our imagination and understanding.

We have been in the quarry over the past 6 weeks creating the theatre in preparation for our three dress rehearsals, which we just completed with full houses. I watched from a different location each evening, delighted at how the piece has shaped up and how skillful the ensemble and crew are at problem-solving on the fly.

On July 3rd, Leslie and I gave a fresh coat of paint to the white set elements. Here they are drying - parts of the house resting on the chairs.

As I write this newsletter, Julia is rattling her way east from Portland, Oregon with her partner in a 1970 aluminum box truck packed with their and another couple’s household belongings.

Here in the countryside of Vermont, we are surrounded by green, from the dark brown-green of Spruce to light green of Ash just leafing out and the new feathery Tamarack needles. Bird songs, flowers, gardens starting to produce. Such a season of bursting. 

Here we are, at the end of winter in Vermont and the first blue flowers in full bloom. We in the Quarry Project ensemble are excited to be a mere 15 weeks from performance.

The image above was taken at Jay Southgate’s large granite table in 2020 when the TABLE dancers improvised together, enjoying the chance to be moving together again.

For the next couple of months, I am getting help with this newsletter from my collaborative partner Leslie Anderson whose artistry you see in the set, costume and film elements of this project. Here are her words about the CHAIRS.

Outside my window it is such a different day than the above photograph; minus 10 early this morning, no clouds, sun just rising, no wind yet, still, like the dancers standing at the stage corner. I am drawn to the calm, the direction of everyone, arms hanging, hands soft, feet planted.

Every week, I stop by the quarry to observe its seasonal changes. The back wall, which is vast at 60 feet tall, captivates me. I love the way the white snow defines the ledges, the edges, and the water alters and reflects those images back.

This month, I want to share with you two creative details of The Quarry Project:
1. Why I choose certain set elements, and
2. The importance and significance of touch.

Memories are strong of our time this summer on the water with music and movement, together for the first time in a year and a half.