I am stepping out of my cocoon, and with lots of support I can dance with life.

For the past four years the theme of my work seems to be

'Dancing' & 'Movement'

The Dance of Life - animation (still) by Corina Duyn

To me, the various projects, like 'The Dance of Life' animation, the 'Reflection' Puppets, were about dancing again.
I literally meant Dancing! As in, moving one's limbs, freely. Standing on both legs, or even one leg, while graciously moving the other. Moving my arms, at will.

I truly and utterly believed that.
No one could have convinced me that the story of my work would have a very different meaning.

BOXES

In September 2014 I was at Annagmakerrig, the Artist retreat-workplace.
An observations made by one of the other artists was that a lot of my artwork had figures in enclosed spaces. Eggs, Cocoons, Boxes...

I can only now see what has happened since then.

This residency was the start of Into the Light. At the start it was to be a book of essays on life with illness/disability. My health did not allow me to complete the work as intended. After many trials and almost giving up, I created a series of loose sheets, and gathered them in a box.

At the same time of deciding on the book-in-a-box, I created the small sculpture 'Stepping out of the Box' (I honestly did not see the connection for months, maybe even a year).

This small box, became the template for the Life Outside the Box  Puppet Project I facilitated with my then fellow members of the Irish Wheelchair Association, during 2015/6.

STEPPING OUT

I can now see that these boxes were there to step out of.
To take my place in society again. To be heard. To be seen.
I have been put into boxes for far too long.
And I probably also created a space (a box, a cocoon) in which I felt safe and could function. Function within the limits of what M.E. has dictated in my life for almost two decades now.

The Life Outside the Box puppet project led to the invitation to talk about my work at symposiums, universities and festivals. It lead to being confident to teach again, which I now do in my studio and via distant learning.

The Reflection Puppets also came about from that residency at Annaghmakerrig.
Four years in the making, but they are done! Just the short film to be created: One of the puppets, faces her reflection in the mirror. She is standing with her walking sticks, but wants to see the dancer in her.

Two years ago I started the Dance of Life animation figures. The idea again being based on dancing. On freedom, on being able to move...

But.
My health is far from allowing me to move freely.
My ability to move is more and more curtailed.

But.
I perhaps I am dancing with life in a different way.
With a spirit which is soaring.
My spirit is dancing.

I am dancing but not as I had hoped.
Not as I had envisaged.
But I am dancing, in my own way.
And take my dance with society, at puppet festivals, symposium, and universities. 
Dance through my work.
Dance with my work.

During my recent retreat at Dzogchen Beara I had intended to create an animation film I had in mind for a year. But I was too ill. I barely left my room. I did manage to film a few very short clips and took some photos - at the nick of time (half hour before going home). At least I could go home some bit satisfied. See below for an impression on what I would have liked to create.

"I" am stepping out of my cocoon, and with lots of support I can dance with life.

And to top it all, my journey through illness, puppetry and 'dance' is to be filmed tomorrow by our national broadcaster. More about this later. 

The Dance of Life - by Corina Duyn (preview) from Corina Duyn on YouTube.

Further reading and links:

• The Dance of Life animation
• The Dance of Illness Resulting in the Birth Dance sculpture
• Reflection Puppets
• Into the Light book in a box
• Life Outside the Box Puppet Project
• M.E. and being invited to talk about puppets

Puppet Reflection

I have come to accept that certain art projects take years to grow from the initial seed (idea) to a finished piece of art, with its own story to tell. My dance puppets are one such project.

Heads drying on the stove.
The shoes- also drying, were a handy way
to keep the heads upright... 

Looking back:

I found this abstract From a blog post in March 2014:

"... During my residency at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig [September 2013] I was invited to visit the dance studio. When I made my way up there, the person who had invited me was not there. Walking through the door I was faced by a full wall of mirrors.

Unsettled by my reflection, I turned around, sat down, and observed the beautiful views from the large windows: the greenhouse, Annaghmakerrig House, fields, and trees. Lots of trees. A robin landed on the wall in front of me. A playful dog ran back and forth (danced?) along the patio, his owner not to be seen. Listening to a reversing tractor making a sound like a musical instrument, I decided it was time to look around and face the dance studio mirrors.

I walked, slowly. Stood still, two canes holding me upright. When I moved the canes behind my back I looked pretty normal. I could be that dancer. But looking with intend into my face, brought sadness.

Here was the reality: I am disabled. Rely on canes to walk. Can only stand steadily for a few minutes. Away from mirrors I generally do not see my life to be so much different from the ‘healthy’. 

I needed to trust my body, trust I can dance. In my own way. 

As a result of this encounter, the puppets I was working on which were to represent dancers, changed from two healthy dancers to one disabled dancer seeing her healthy reflection in the mirror.

In art I can be who I want to be. In art I have danced. ..."

I had started to make one of the heads four years ago... But life took a different route. And I was not so sure about the head I had created... It was different from my usual more whimsical faces. 

Over the years other sculptures were started, and finished. But this one head remained in my studio. Untouched. But not forgotten. 

Starting the puppet making workshops in my studio 8 weeks ago was the catalyst to resume working on the Dancer puppets. (Of course the whole puppet adventures have taken on a life of their own as well. See below for link.)

As I wanted to have the puppet face itself in a 'mirror' (I intend to use framed plexiglass as a pretend mirror), I had to find a way to copy the head I had made. I decided that the best way to do this was create a plaster mould. Having made the copy of the head with DAS air drying clay, I was able to change the facial features some bit, to a more open, happy face, while the clay was still wet.

Dancer Puppets in the making.
One with walking sticks,
the other more free in her movements

I have assembled two wooden puppet bodies. The parts made with the help of my brother Joop, and IWA puppet maker Paul.

I made two individual sets of hands. One set to hold on to the walking sticks. The other with a much more movement in her arms and hands- even her wrists. (I moulded a piece of rope from a roller blind between the hand and forearm)

hands in the making. Adding one finger at the time

Hands in progress

The puppet with the walking sticks will be pretty much stationary when facing the 'mirror'. The other one- the reflection of herself in the 'mirror' I would like to be able to move. To Dance!

This will be an exciting adventure too. 

Of course the puppets can be manipulated manually... like the puppets in Life Outside the Box but I am also exploring how the puppet in the mirror can move with the help of a little motor.  

This part will be created in collaboration with Cork based Artist Dominic Fee .
I am so excited!

Today, eight weeks after having resumed this project, I have applied the first of four layers of paint/varnish on the puppets. Over the next few weeks/months, I will look for the fabric, and design the clothing, decide on hair style, and finish the painting process.

And suddenly, the puppet and its reflection in the mirror are becoming little 'people'.

Watch this space!

Further reading:

• See the full Dance story of 2014 
• Adventures in the world of puppetry 
• start of puppet making workshop
• The Life Outside the Box puppet blog
• Artist Dominic Fee

Movement is life

... if only I might move as the wind moves, sing along as the trees sing, bend and quiver as the flowers do, and feel the sap of life stirring swiftly and strongly through me!’

Aleanor Mordaunt

Me and Frans Hogevorst dancing during celebrations
in first year of school. Aged 4 '

Dancing has been one of my desires. All of my life.  It still is. This year I will dance! Hopefully using my body, definitely through my artwork.

As a little girl I passed by a ballet studio on my way to primary school. I so much wanted to be a dancer. During those childhood years there was a Saturday night variety show on TV. My favourite part was the group of eight dancers. I wanted to grow up as being one of them. I didn't. And even when I could decide for myself to attend dance classes, I never did. The closest I came to dancing was attending jazz-gymnastics in the 70's, and of course at the Saturday night disco! 

I possibly have been restricting movement in my body for years. Much longer than from the onset of illness. Maybe I had became unsure of trusting my body - of being who I meant to be and grew into someone others wanted me to be.
During the first few years of illness I became severely restricted in my movements. Every single action: walking, eating, brushing my teeth, having a shower, turning around in bed was at times so painful that I moved as little as possible. I did get out of bed every day and worked some routine in my day – but looking back I restricted movement to a bare minimum. The words "movement is life", uttered by a dietitian/homeopath who supported me during those early years, still rings in my ears. Movement is life. Now I am very slowly re-learning, re-imagining, and trusting, who I am. A dancer.  I am ready to dance, and ready for change.

Subtle movements are dance too

Through reading books about healing and wellness, listening to my body, observing nature and exploring art, I now come to the conviction that the breath can be seen as the subtlest form of dance. This way, we can all dance, no matter what our physical state may be. Even when I was more or less bedbound, or in constant pain, the core of my body was dancing. “Let the body be free and open as it’s rocked and cradled by the breath- still, yet continually moving,” as Vidyamala Burch suggests in Living well with pain and illness. “Motion is natural to the body and its systems. Even the bone cells are in a constant state of movement as they replenish themselves.” 

So, inside I am dancing. The realization of the importance of the breath has been with me for a long time, but as for dance, I looked outside of myself.

Annaghmakerrig Lake

Dance is everywhere

Observing nature, I witness the dance of leaves and flower petals in my garden. The birds flying from tree to feeder. A goldfinch swinging gently with the breeze on top of the teasel.
Resting by Annamakerrig Lake during my residency in 2013, I watched water-striders dancing on the surface. The intertwining circles they created on the water were of a beautiful choreography. What about the autumnal leaves swirling on the road, or a group of starlings in the sky, shifting direction at the same time? Or the gentle bee hovering, dancing above a flower in search of nectar.

One of the beauties of living with this illness is that I have time to observe the minutest detail in nature. Of course I am not alone in this.
Kathleen Madge wrote in 1947 in The World of Living Green: “almost every plant has its own dance, continually moving, both in leaf, shoot, and flower – a dance so slow that we hurrying human being do not perceive it. There is a rhythmic dance of the flowers as they open in the morning and close at dusk…"

Aleanor Mordaunt wrote this delightful passage in The garden of Contentment one hundred years before I read it. Oh beautiful, beautiful life! beautiful wind and clouds and trees! they make a Pantheon of me, and I prayed them to take me to themselves and make me one of their wild, sweet fraternity, to teach me their secrets and joys, and their almost sweet sorrows; if only I might move as the wind moves, sing along as the trees sing, bend and quiver as the flowers do, and feel the sap of life stirring swiftly and strongly through me!’

The dance in art

Now. 2017. I am on a mission to dance. 

I am relearning my body's movements and possibilities.

I have continued with my walking practice, and every week I go 'one-tree-further'. I concentrate on my movements during this now almost ten minute exploration. I am observing the dance of nature. I  am filming some of it too. And I am dancing with words here on my blog. 

My art is definately going into the direction of movement too. The plan is to have two little aniamted puppets dance through my garden. (... more about that some other day.)

If I don't fully succeed to really dance myself (as in the true sense of the word), I will dance through my art.

Links for further reading:

• Earlier dance story: The Dance of illness
• Walking: Sore hands and arms from walking
• Part of today's blog appeared here
• See author list here 

The Dance of Illness

Birth-Dance © Corina Duyn 2016

It’s possible to stifle creativity and freedom for only so long - even in the desert, flowers find a way to bloom.

Yasamin Beitollahi. Huffington Post

Yesterday I watched the movie Desert Dancer. 

It is based on the true story of Iranian dancer Afshin Ghaffarian, set against the backdrop of the political unrest in Iran and an era where dancing was strictly forbidden.

The young Afshin wants to dance. He needs to dance. While in University a group of friends set up a secret dance company. Dancing just for themselves, Afshin suggests giving a performance in the desert. A group of twenty fellow students were invited to a secret location where they perform the most spellbinding dance. Afshin makes it to Paris with false documents and is given political asylum and a place in a dance academy. 

I am so happy I stumbled upon this movie (on Netflix). The story has very challenging subjects, but but the beautiful dances are so free.

While watching Desert Dancer I kept thinking about my own desire to dance. 

How this is reflected in my last work "Birth-Dance" and about my current clay-mation/animation/film project, which I hope will be all about movement. 

I so want to move more freely. I so want to dance with life again.

I felt that the movie was a kind of metaphor for our daily struggles. 

The story of living with chronic illness: ME (Unfortunately often referred to as ME/CFS). Trapped in a body, which dictates a regime in which dancing is forbidden. 

The yearning for something more than being confined in our houses, in our bodies, in our minds: The need to fuel our inner passion, and emerge into life again, and tell our story with passion. 

I loved this quote in the movie:

“Dance can be anything. A waving goodbye, or waving your fist into the air. 

But you only make a difference when you find your own secret language.”

…A dance can be anything.

… make a differnce when you find our own secret language.

I hope my language will be the (very short) animation film of small figures dancing in my garden. 

To improve on the movements in my own body again. 

To dance - in whatever form that is possible.

To dance with words here on my blog

To dance with life

To share the dance with you.

Notes:

The authors who might support me in my desire are:

Emile Conrad- Life on Land

Jamie Marich- Dancing Mindfully

Bonnie Klein - Slow Dance

Ingrid Bacci - The art of Effortless Living

See more books/authors

Links:
Top quote from: Desert Dancer: Art and Humanity Blooms in Post-Revolutionary Iran, Huffingon Post 

Movie trailer: youtube

Scene of dance in the desert: youtube