Photo: Aeric Meredith-Goujon
Improvisation – my life in general at the moment. Every move I make from waking up to falling asleep is a study in improvisation. How I use my desires and goals to get me through the day. All I’ve got is time and not many people, places, or things asking much of me. I feel like a professional juggler standing on one leg juggling one small ball. I'm used to using so much more of me; it's a constant study in figuring out what I can do with my other limbs while I hold on to just one thing.
Rhythm – the sequence of pounds, taps and slaps I make in and around my heartbeat.
Audience – when will we gather again? How can we see around our old customs on what makes an audience? I have so many questions around this word. With the growing importance of digital communications it seems to me audiences are getting smaller and more specific i.e. “click-ish” people seek out in a key word search what they want and attend only that. Boundaries begin to be pushed less and the mixed audiences I’ve grown to love and yearn to share with are becoming more separate. How can I convince, encourage, and inspire more than 10 people to gather more than 6’ apart to bear witness to live art. Maybe we’re all audience and the only real live art we get is people watching from our window.
Documentation – bless the smart phone! Does anyone use Laban notation anymore?
Teaching – something so sacred and special has turned into the next passing fad i.e. Instagram Live workshops and Zoom classes. The rise of this pandemic has brought on an onslaught of people thinking/assuming that teaching is their calling, if only because they have the space and some personal knowledge. It would be my hope that the true sharers and progressors of our industry would be the ones educating. But it seems to me that too many of the wrong teachers are teaching. It requires an immense amount of selflessness to offer yourself up as a teacher. Especially in this time it is so important for our students to know why dance is still important and what it is we need to be holding on to and what it is that we should be asking more questions about. I’m not sure that all that has been figured out yet, but I remain hopeful.
Dance making – who can be called a dance maker now? I find this time to be a blessing. When all at once I couldn’t find the time or resources to give myself space to create, this series of isolation has forced me to become resourceful in the most humble of ways and ask my creative tendencies to settle for less than my mind dreams up if only to produce something over nothing. All production in this time feels safe and self reflective. Informative and inspiring. I look forward to sharing the thoughts, ideas, and projects I’ve been working on.
Rehearsing – something I have a hard time convincing myself is worth while right now.
Honestly speaking. Who are we kidding? Dance, art, and the world alike will never be the same following the pandemic or “these troubling times.” A statement that can be said generally about any time in life, but the weight and the importance of one's voice is more tender than ever now. I feel almost narcissistic believing that what I was responsible for creating, prior to the pandemic, was so forward thinking and profound that it still holds the same importance and relevance now. Artists are historians, and while it’s obvious that looking back and repeating has proven to be an effective method of artistic communication, we are experiencing a highlighted moment in time for the globe. Rehearsing what we did before seems reductive. It is important to remember what we've done and are doing, no doubt, but I feel our time spent rehearsing as art makers and historians should be spent with more research and introspect and less repetition and complacency. The questions and thought-provoking motives need to be pointed at now and what’s to come and what we need, and what we can get. We don’t know when audiences will feel comfortable being audiences again; shows will not be the same for some time. But our work needs to be shared. There are still people out there that need to have difficult conversations through art, who need to feel mindless joy and visual stimulation, who need to be reminded of magic, and illusion and innovation. How do we do that?
Training – practice in maintaining and improving a specific set of skills or discipline.
Ex. I try to take Yoga to the People at 11am 5-6 times a week to maintain a centered mind-body connection and to continue my journey in improved posture, strength and balance.
Level changes – walking up and down my 4 floor walk up for essentials. Sitting up to find the remote.
Dynamic changes – noticeable changes from one feeling/texture/energy to another, possibly along the same spectrum.
Ex. Thick to thin, dry to wet, spastic to mellow
Proximity – nearness to my refrigerator, the big hand and little hand at 4, and my Beau.
Photo: Dustin Dacier
Jae Neal is a performing artist and choreographer born and raised in Michigan. They received their training from Western Michigan University, performing in professional works such as "Strict Love" by Doug Varone, "Temporal Trance" by Frank Chavez and Harrison McEldowney’s "Dance Sport." Since relocating to New York Jae has had the privilege of working with SYREN Modern Dance, Christina Noel Reaves, MSA Agency, Netta Yerushalmy, Catapult Entertainment, Katherine Helen Fisher Dance, and Nathan Trice. Jae joined Kyle Abraham’s A.I.M in 2011.
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Life as a Modern Dancer 
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