One of my favorite things about IBYTTDIAY (and CDE in general), is the emphasis on interdisciplinary work.  The final product will draw from dance, theater, writing, and an original score. 

Several months ago, CDE put out a call for letters from the public that were never meant to be sent. We received all sorts of submissions ranging from deeply introspective to forcefully confrontational.  We grouped these letters into different emotional brackets, the embodiments of which will appear in performance.

Everyone involved in this project has a different artistic background.  Some are dancers, some actors, but through these last several months, we’ve all been able to learn from each other’s strengths and draw on our own to influence our individual characters. 

I portray, ‘Grief’.  My initial inspiration for this character came in shape of broad ideas and concepts, which with the help of Sara and my cast-mates has formed into a specific physical story.

One of the biggest challenges for me during this process has been to find specificity and not simply rely on the idea of what I’m trying to convey. Watching everyone else’s process and working to combine so many different artistic mediums towards one goal has been such a rewarding journey. ​

​- Sarah Franzel

See Sarah perform as, 'Grief,' in, i bet you think this dance is about you!

Opening soon!
May 3-18
Friday & Saturday, 8pm

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE TICKETS

i bet you think this dance is about you, is incredibly poignant to me personally. It coincides closely with an event coming up in my personal life. I thought this event would welcome my partner being with me, but rather may cause some heads to turn and judgement to be passed. ​It seems that my homosexual lifestyle is not as understood after coming out as I thought and it really hurts.

To have trust in those whom you think accept you and to later have that acceptance revealed as confusion, with no capability of support, feels like everything crashing down around you.

I believe I've found my voice in this situation using, i bet you think this dance is about you, to help myself cope. Playing "Anger" in the piece is a way for me to indirectly unleash MY anger about the situation.

Even if you don't have something happening to you at the moment, this show may give you clarity about a past event that is unresolved or that has shaped or unraveled you. Don't be so sure that you've conquered all the stages of healing. Any of the characters visualized in the show, like Anger, may be lurking under the surface.

​I encourage you to use this show to heal.

 -Tony Springs

See Tony perform as, Anger, in

i bet you think this dance is about you
Friday & Saturday, 8pm
May 3-18

CLICK HERE FOR TICKETS

i bet you think this dance is about you

Friday & Saturday, 8pm
May 3 - 18
1650 W. Foster Ave, Chicago

CLICK HERE FOR TICKETS

I think in some way or another I have always been the kind of person to think, "I can't wait to be (insert an "older" age here)". I struggled with enjoying the present, the now, the current place I'm in until very recently. When I was a young girl I couldn't wait to be a teenager.... because that meant dating. When I was a teenager, through family circumstances and life, I grew up really quickly and wanted to be an older age that wouldn't juxtapose the roles I had to take on in my family as much as my teen years did. I couldn't wait for my age to maybe signify that I could be or should be taken seriously. 20 is the most boring birthday of all, so I spent an entire year counting down to turn 21. I used to think I'd have my whole life figured out by 25 and I couldn't wait to reach that milestone. Well, let me just tell you that as a 25 year old I do NOT have everything figured out- not even a little bit- not even close.... but that's ok.I would be bored out of my mind if I had everything figured out already! Even today I can catch myself thinking "I can't wait to be in my 30s... that'll be the decade for me". 

But what is age really other than a number? I've been asking myself this a lot lately (since I don't have everything figured out at 25 like I thought I would). I don't really have a great answer, nothing profound or new to add to the discussion of age. But what I do have is a brain full of memories, both good and bad, a heart full of love that's also covered in scars that led me to where I am today, and a backbone and willpower that is stronger than I ever thought I could be. My spirit is determined, at the ready, my soul is full of this child like, youthful whimsy complemented with some wise roots to hurdle me forward into this next week or season or year or decade or forever. "Life is good- it beckons us to join in the dance". 

Speaking of dance....that's also a part of Getting Old Sucks. We as an ensemble have various moving backgrounds and interests. One thing I love about being a CDE company member is getting to work with so many gorgeous humans who all come from such different backgrounds of physical theatre. I'm forever in awe of the people I get to work with, I am forever humbled. And I can pretty much promise you that you will be in awe, too. 

If there is one thing that can make me feel old already, it's my body. The injuries I've gone through, the breaks I had to take from dancing to heal, the path(s) to recovery after getting hurt, the crunchy feeling I get in most of my joints during the winter, straight up losing feeling in parts of my body sometimes- it definitely makes me feel old sometimes. The human body is an incredible thing, though. We CAN heal, we CAN recover. We can rest and breathe and carry babies and carry heavy loads of groceries and carry heavy loads of pain and we can warrior on and keep on thriving. One thing I am learning (over and over again) is how to listen to my body, and how to honor it. Getting old sucks, getting injured sucks- but it's just a part of this life. It's going to happen at some point and the more aware I am of my body now, the more I respect my body and what it can do, the happier I am. One of the many lessons I've learned during this 25th trip around the sun is LISTEN TO YOUR BODY, MAGGIE. So, I'm trying to do that more and more every day. 

We can't wait to share this piece with you- its a good one, a special one, maybe the most relatable and most personal piece I've had the pleasure to work on. 

Maybe Getting Old Sucks- but this show and this creative team sure doesn't. And I can't wait for you to find out for yourself!!

Michele Stine, codirector of Getting Old Sucks, gives us some insight behind the title. Tickets on sale now for Getting Old Sucks!
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February 22 - March 3
Friday & Saturday, 8pm
​Sunday, 3pm
Click here to purchase your tickets!

What is community? Is it the people you’re around? Is it the feeling you get when you’re around a certain group of people? Is is active or passive? Is there a definition or is it as abstract as anything else that is specific to each individual? What happens when you find yourself outside of a community and in turn, how do you make your way in?

Whenever I think of community outreach, these are the questions I have to ask myself. Yes, marketing and outreach are strategic but there’s also just this aspect of just being a human being trying to connect with someone else. It’s this sense of inviting someone in and in return, hoping to be let in as well. When I think of community and outreach, I go into it with a sense of just trying to get to know someone. I don’t particularly want anything from you other than to meet you, get to know you better. No one is oblivious. They can tell when you just want something from them or when you’re oozing with fakeness. No one wants to be networked. People do want to feel special and listened to. They do want relationships that gives just as much as it takes.

In doing community outreach, I want to challenge people to get to know one another. Not because we want something from one another. Not to network but simply just to be together. You’d be surprised how quickly you can befriend a stranger, the things you confide in them or feel safe around them. We live in a world where we are so scared of people, things or beliefs that are different than us. We meet it with rage, hostility and hatred yet we fail to realize that we are all more similar than we are different. We don’t actually fear that thing that we tell ourselves is scary or dangerous. What we actually fear is that we may like that person we’re told is a threat. We might resonate with an idea we were brainwashed to think is radical. We might actually be good at an activity we were told would emasculate us. But we must push past those fears. We must reach out. Reach out to converse with a stranger. Reach out of our comfort zone. Reach out to include or accept. Reach out for help or understanding. We just need to reach out. For ourselves. For each other. For that is building community. That’s why we use the term “building a community” not “maintaining a community”. The work is never done. So smile at a stranger. Ask someone to inform you about something you don’t know. Go to a different restaurant. Try a new activity. Realize that expanding your community broadens your perspective and helps you grow into a person you never thought you’d expect to be. Realize that you may find yourself with an ever-growing community of people that may all come together because of you.

So I hope you come out and see a show at Chicago Danztheatre or support our fundraisers. We work for and collaborate with people from all walks of life. We tell stories that people never thought they’d resonate with. We intermingle communities of all kinds from the CPS community, to the prison community, to the artist community and beyond. We truly believe that it is possible for us all to learn from one another. It’s possible to simply exist with one another, to listen, to be heard and to share. You are always welcome in the CDE community because it is a safe place. We are one community.

And as always, like our Chicago Danztheatre Ensemble Facebook page or follow us on Instagram @danztheatre. 

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The following blog post may be triggering for some readers. The survivor story comes an Ensemble member of MMRP. Though she wanted to share her story, she asked to keep her identity anonymous.  

Throughout our rehearsal process, this line in the Blueberry Hill monologue by Christine House has always stuck in my mind. Though I always take it out of context, I  go back to January 27, 2015, to the words coming out of my own mouth as I ran out of a dorm to my friend’s car – “it wasn’t consensual but it wasn’t rape." Over and over again, I spoke those words during the ride back to my apartment, while talking to my roommate, while crying to my ex over the phone, while telling my friend, while talking to the doctor, while talking to the investigative team at the hospital.

It was supposed to be studying at a classmate’s apartment. It turned into a hook up and then into a non-consensual sexual encounter. At first, I just told him it hurt. He stopped after a couple minutes and persuaded me to try again. I told him it hurt again and tried to push him off, crying as he asked me if it felt good and I said "no." When I finally got him off of me, I grabbed my clothes and kept putting them on as he asked for me to continue and for us to finish together. I told him he had two hands and he could use them. As I ran out the door, I called friends to try to get a ride back home since I was on the university's other campus and felt too disorientated to figure out how to get back to my apartment.

That night changed me.

While I was able to seek justice through the university, it was not easy. My grades plummeted from straight A's to B's, C's and even a D. The doctors at the hospital found multiple tears in my vagina and advised that even with a condom used, that I should go on HIV antivirals since his status was not known and Richmond was having a problem with HIV at the time. The medications caused terrible nausea, and caused me to throw up. I had to repeat my story over and over again as the classmate kept appealing the case and other victims came forward with similar situations.

I kept questioning if it was really rape since it had started consensually. After all – “you can’t rape the willing”. I had to come to terms with what had happened to me. It was not as traumatic as other rapes I heard about. But it was detrimental to my progress and even as I fought back through the university, it took a year. Near this time in 2016, I had the final word from the university that he was expelled. After countless interviews with university officials, it was done.

I participated in MMRP so I can keep healing and moving past what happened to me. By hearing others stories and being able to use dance to express them, I’m realizing that I’m not a victim. I’m continuously surviving. And others are learning how to survive as well – I’m not alone in this journey. We can bring awareness and hope even as we’re fighting an overwhelming darkness.