Where Does Choreography Come From

Today I taught a private class for M. Last week, she’d brought this saucy song in and asked me to choreograph a dance for her to do at a party on New Year’s Eve. I’d been listening to it in the car, mostly thinking I didn’t know what to do with it, and that it had to be easy since she had so little time to make it performance ready. As I pulled up to the studio, I asked Spirit*, “Okay Spirit, what can I do with this?” Upon which, the whole dance unfolded in my mind, except for some connecting links that I knew would come as we moved.
One of my big contemplations is whether it’s all written (our life) and we just have to be open to it. Whether the appropriate response is dropped into our lap if we just know how to receive. The choreography process often makes me feel that this is true. I listen to the music and feel like I am taking dictation. Is that because I’m receiving it from a plane where it already exists, or because after all these years I know the language so well—I know what the sounds look like? The places where I get stuck and don’t know what to do, is it because I’m not clear enough to receive or because I just have never translated that particular sound into movement.
When I’m stuck and I remember to ask Spirit, the movement comes through, and it’s always a new movement or gesture that I’ve never made before. It’s always perfect and becomes the signature of the dance.
Readers—write and tell me about your choreographic process. Can’t wait to hear from you. This subject fascinates me.
*When I say Spirit, I am asking That which is larger than I, That which is all-creative and has no limits to possibility. It could be my higher self, the collective unconscious, the muse, the goddess, whatever it is that awakens and responds to the creative urge.