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Preparing for our tenth anniversary, Lucy and I wanted to celebrate by presenting an evening of new work that dove into the many emotions, feelings, and sensations we have felt over the past two years. It’s not in my nature to be overtly political, but recently I’ve felt an insistent call to participate in the world around me more truthfully. With Lucy’s encouragement and the dancers’ willing nature, we began the months long process of unraveling a point of view that shouts with anger and softens with tenderness. At the heart of RE|dance group’s work is an unyielding yearning for love and acceptance. This idea stirs deeply throughout The Biggest Wail From The Bottom Of My Heart. This dance theatre work reflects the urgency, need, and desire to reject ignorance. The work subtlety calls attention to revolution. Feelings of despair and uncertainty are powerful mechanisms for change. A personal voice is a powerful voice. This work, for me, is a call to action, a plea, and a proclamation. Lucy and I are so grateful to have established a home with RE|dance group that has nurtured our creative voices for the past 10 years. We find this to be one of our greatest accomplishments both personally and professionally. This work would not be possible without a group of artists who bring their full selves to the studio every time. Daiva, Zach, Stacy, Erika, Corinne, Anthony, Danielle and Melanie are remarkable human beings. Their commitment, drive, and energy exemplify and deepen our mission to create emotionally complex work that examines the human condition. I am awed by their curiosity, intellect, vulnerability, and courage. CDE’s Art + Activism series is giving us another opportunity to share excerpts from The Biggest Wail From the Bottom of My Heart in response to the current political landscape; which promotes marginalization rather than unity. The excerpt explores how the body, through percussive action, represents a protest against established societal norms. Subject matter considers how we, as a company of primarily white dancers, contribute to the expanding dialogue about race, injustice and ignorance in America. - Michael Estanich, RE|Dance Group  Michael Estanich (Artistic Director, RE|Dance Group)'s creative research currently examines ideas about the intersection of the physical body with space, architecture, and landscape often resulting in dances supported by sculptural environments. He is a Professor of Dance at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point where he teaches modern dance technique, composition, dance pedagogy, movement analysis and dance history. He earned his MFA from The Ohio State University and his BFA from Denison University. Michael’s performance credits include Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak, Cerulean Dance Theatre, Rebecca Rosen, Melanie Bales, Bebe Miller, a reconstruction of Mark Morris’ choreography All Fours, and Susan Marshall's ARMS. He is the Mainstage Choreographer at the Trollwood Performing Arts School in Moorhead, MN and Vice President of Nominations and Elections for the American College Dance Association (ACDA). See RE|Dance Group in Stories of Chicago, running January 24th and 25th at Ebenezer Lutheran Church Auditorium!
Tickets On Sale Now! "Hi, My Name is Shame" If I tell myself it’s just a character, I take its power away. Late February, I was blatantly avoiding emails (read:scrolling mindlessly through Facebook and pressing the refresh button every 30 seconds in the hopes that something new and entertaining materializes on the screen which almost never happens), when I came across a post by an old college friend and collaborator. She was seeking dancers for an ongoing project and I thought “why not?”. And that is precisely where I got stuck. Right out of the gate, my anxiety, a tightly-wound, high-strung thing who takes up perpetual residence in my brain and plays My Chemical Romance on loop, raised its voice and said, “Why in the name of Gerard Way would she hire you?”. It then proceeded to name off a delightful list of reasons why this will more than likely go horribly wrong. -You’re out of shape -You’re out of practice -You’re socially awkward and suck at putting yourself on the spot -You’re generally awkward and will probably embarrass yourself -You haven’t spoken to this person in some time and that makes you an awful friend and human being -She will probably say no That last one usually does it. That two-letter word has the stopping power of a brick wall.Immovable. Foreboding. Rough and scratchy and not at all pleasant to climb. What I tend to forget, however, is that brick walls have to come to an end somewhere so why not walk around? Adjust course, proceed as planned. I’ve learned a thing or two about dealing with my anxiety and that usually means reminding myself that it is wrong. A lot. It doesn’t provide solutions, only nerve-ridden assumptions that rarely, if ever, actually come into fruition. Thankfully. So, I sit up straight, open a new email draft... And here I am. But here’s the thing about my angsty little buddy: It is a constant, worming its way into nearly every single facet of my life. Some days it lies dormant, napping quietly, only to be jostled awake by even the smallest of minor “concerns” moments later. It is the exhausted, berated so-n'-so dragging Shame and Regret around by the collars. While my anxiety does aim to protect me from potential undoing (and probable embarrassment if I’m being perfectly honest with myself), those other two nip at my heels, pinch at my skin and offer nothing constructive in return. I have learned to live and communicate with my anxiety, to understand its purpose and accept it. When I feel the panic rising, I ask myself why it is sounding the alarms and adjust course. It’s a learning process. We’re still in it, my anxiety and I, but we’re making progress. We make a pretty okay team. Shame is a different beast entirely. Shame is the throat-crushing reminder that every choice you ever made, even those made in self-preservation, was a mistake. It tells you that you dug your own hole as it stands at the precipice, pouring dirt over your head by the fistful. It sits on your chest at night, whispering alternate endings and conspiracy theories in your ear like a caffeine-addled teen on Tumblr in the wee hours of the morning. It is catty. It is relentless. For years I willingly carried Shame around on my back, letting it goad me down a path of its choosing. And it wasn’t scenic. But I wasn’t blind. I could still see other paths pass me by, but Shame would wrap its bony fingers around my chin and wrench my gaze elsewhere, directing me down the road that forced me to re-experience those awful moments over and over and over and over and over…. Suffice it to say, it’s a nasty little bugger. So… Why am I sharing this with you? What does this have to do with this dance? When I sent that email, I had no clue I would be stepping into the role of an old adversary. I would be facing it head on instead of feeling it hover behind me. I would have to acknowledge it, study it, and become it. In a bizarre turn of events, my reticence towards Shame faded almost immediately. By taking on Shame as a character, it humanizes it and makes it just as fallible. It holds less power over me because I see that it, too, is wrong more often than not. It bases its arguments on cognitive distortions, not reality. It is a voice that speaks only in lies coated in a thin veneer of skewed truths. This production is not a representation of the triggering event as it actually happened, but how the mind mangled and obscured it. That distorted sense of reality is what the mind latched onto and shook loose from a ramshackle narrative built on the lies of faceless voices. However, when we give faces to those voices and place them in a physical space, they are still frightening, don’t get me wrong, but at least we are fighting an enemy we can see on turf we can control. This project represents every performer’s personal battle; the skirmishes we managed win and those we lost with grit and determination looking forward towards the next round. It is a shared experience of tenaciousness and acceptance. It offers a safe space to begin to understand those voices and how to lessen their hold. We are all an extension of the Hero, their fears, their mind, and their resolution. I am Shame. I am a character. I am Shame but Shame holds no power over me. - Molly Hillson  MOLLY HILLSON (SHAME), originally from Seattle, Washington, is a Chicago-based dancer and visual artist. She began her training with Pacific Northwest Ballet, Colorado Ballet, Colorado Youth Dance Theater, and received her arts endorsed diploma from Denver School of the Arts. Since completing her BA at Columbia College Chicago (‘13), Molly has since performed with many wonderful artists around the Chicago-area and is currently on staff with the Joffrey Ballet and Synapse Arts. Molly is very excited to join the Chicago Danztheatre Ensemble for i bet you think this dance is about you!
See Molly perform as, "Shame," in, i bet you think this dance is about you. Now Open! Friday & Saturday, 8pm May 10, 11, 17, 18 1650 W. Foster Ave, Chicago Click here for tickets! I have started and erased what to say in this blog post more times than I care to admit. A show that is perhaps the most personal, cathartic piece of dance I’ve ever worked on and I’m rendered (nearly) speechless. Do I tell you about our process? Do I share one of the letters I submitted last summer to show where I was at a year ago compared to how? Do I talk about how the journey of the Hero in this piece is so completely familiar and hits so close to home? Truthfully, I don’t know what route to take today. I think I will start by saying that I am thankful, so indescribably thankful and fortunate to work on this piece and share this story with some of the artists I consider my Chicago family. Most of us have worked together for 3 years and I am humbled to create alongside them and share a story of self-evaluation and empowerment. This has been one of the most determined, satisfying, fluid creative processes I’ve ever worked on. The ebb and flow of this group is remarkable and I am so proud of each and every team member we have in this piece. I could dote on them endlessly, so, if nothing else, I hope to see you at this show to celebrate their beautiful artistry and what they have each put into this collaboration. I think from here I will also say that I feel incredibly vulnerable going into May and sharing this show with you, but I can’t wait for you to see this one. The past year has been one of growth and going from one of the darkest periods in my life to one where now, when people ask me how I’m doing, I can truthfully and unabashedly say, “I am happier than I have ever been.” So much of that happiness is new found and, for the first time, only reflective of the work I have done to confront the same “inner demons” the Hero does in this story we share in,I i bet you think this dance is about you. This past year was the year of confronting grief, depression, heartbreak- and sitting in the quiet stillness of myself and finding a path that has lead me to self-empowerment and independency. Another reason I hope you see this show is because I truly believe there is something in this for everyone. We all have our universal, but still personal pains and hurts and heartbreaks. I think this piece engages the audience to consider how common our inner demons may be and how we can de-stigmatize the discussion of mental health and seeking help (and making help more accessible) when we want and need it. Please come share in this journey with us. We have put our hearts and souls into this work and can’t wait to see you there. -Maggie Robinson See Maggie perform as the 'Hero' in, i bet you think this dance is about you. Tickets on sale now! May 3-18 Friday & Saturday, 8pm 1650 W. Foster Ave, Chicago CLICK HERE FOR TICKETS  Maggie Robinson is thrilled to be with CDE for a third season. She hails from Tennessee and received her BFA in Musical Theatre Performance (University of Memphis).
Photography by Matthew Gregory Hollis 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  Sarah Franzel is delighted to be working with CDE yet again after appearing in Ethereal Abandonment and the Adventures of Ricky the Rabbit (collaboration with Chicago parks district). She has worked with various companies in Maine and Chicago including Theater at Monmouth, Harborside Shakespeare, City Lit, EDGE, and Unrehearsed Shakespeare.
Photography by Matthew Gregory Hollis 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  A native of Cincinnati, Ohio, Tony Springs is performing as CDE Ensemble member for his fourth year. He currently works with the Devonshire Cultural Centers' "Devonshire Playhouse," choreographing musical productions. Tony is also the Artistic Director of the Devonshire Dance Ensemble.
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!!  Maggie Robinson is thrilled to be with CDE for a third season. She hails from Tennessee and received her BFA in Musical Theatre Performance (University of Memphis) and was a choreographer and dance teacher throughout the tristate area and in Chicago is a Teaching Artist with Emerald City Children's Theatre. Recent choreography credits include Pirates of Penzance (Saltbox Theatre Collective), Carrie 2: The Rage a musical parody (Underscore Theatre), A Memory A Monologue A Rant A Prayer (CDE). See Getting Old Sucks! February 22 - March 3 Friday & Saturday, 8pm Sunday, 3pm Get Your Tickets Here! At age 67, I was not expecting to audition for any dance/movement show ever again in my life. But when I saw the audition notice for Getting Old Sucks, I had a gut feeling that I had to audition for this show. Since my last audition had been over 25 years ago, I had to scramble to get an updated resume and headshot together. Thanks to my millennial friends, I accomplished this in two days. Getting cast made my heart flutter. YES! I was once again going to work and perform with people who loved to move and perform as much as me. Then, of course, reality set in. Was I going to have the energy and physical ability to meet the directors’ expectations? I was immediately put at ease when their main concern was my safety; they didn’t want me to hurt myself. With their support, I can be the imperfect (elder) human I am, trying her best to be the best performer she can be. Thank you Michele and Scott for this opportunity! I am loving it! And so, what does aging mean to me? It means to persevere despite all of the obstacles and setbacks. To do this successfully, don’t compare yourself to your younger self or others, be who you are now. Let your passions guide you and follow through with gusto. Your soul is beautiful and ageless; let it flow from your being. Be kind in your words and deeds, and forgive. Be friends with and listen to people of all ages. We all need each other to get through this mysterious adventure we call life. Diane  Diane Blumensaadt is an Ensemble member for, Getting Old Sucks and is so excited to be a part of the CDE’s production of Getting Old Sucks. A native Chicagoan, she has a background in ballet, jazz, modern dance and Hawaiian hula and is a classically trained singer.
Come see Diane perform! Getting Old Sucks February 22 - March 3 Friday & Saturday, 8pm Sunday, 3pm
Michele Stine, codirector of Getting Old Sucks, gives us some insight behind the title. Tickets on sale now for Getting Old Sucks!
February 22 - March 3 Friday & Saturday, 8pm Sunday, 3pm Click here to purchase your tickets!  What is ‘age’? I realize that sounds like a stupid question, but depending on how you define the word, it can mean many different things. Depending on what end of the spectrum you look at the aging process from, it can appear frightening, exciting, dangerous, lousy, wonderful, or many other things. So why do we look at those of different ages with such judgement?
Ageism is one of the last ‘isms’ not being discussed very widely in contemporary society - and we wanted to figure out why. Why do we assume those vastly younger and those vastly older than us are less capable? Why are so many elderly people taken advantage of, abused, ignored, and lonely? Why do we spend our entire adolescence waiting for society to finally recognize us as this ever elusive thing known as an ‘adult’, only to find that the moment we achieve that status, we suddenly long for our younger years because maturity has lost its shine? What prevents us from being comfortable or satisfied with our aging process? Is it all just a fear of death? Is it all just a form of denial that we too came from ignorance and we too will one day die? That’s a lot of questions. It is a BIG topic. We know. Getting Old Sucks started from a conversation about how age affects our behavior and our physicality. As physical performers we constantly talk about the timelines of our bodies, the time we have left before our instrument begins to break down - signaling the decline of our careers. A circus artist or a dancer doesn’t have to quit at 30, but the hurdles certainly start to stack up. Injuries become lasting, pains are more intense, fatigue sets in earlier and lingers longer. What does that look like in 30 MORE years? We wanted to explore the idea that what we do professionally is inherently temporary, that our careers will need to take a turn at some point. Accepting that is part of every mover’s career, and in many ways, every human’s journey. Accepting that gracefully is a thing only a fraction of people do. But we hope this process will bring us and you closer to an understanding, or at least an awareness. As we continue to develop story, text, and choreography, this project continues to spark conversations about death, financial hardship, pregnancy, injury, families, history, and so much more. Writing in detail about all the topics ageism affects would fill a bookshelf. Even after nearly 2 years of development, I’m still not certain I have any final answers about my own aging process, but I do have a renewed sense of respect for those both older and younger than me. I hope this show can communicate that, and if we’re lucky, spread it beyond our audiences. I’m grateful to have been able to work with such a giving group of people from such a large range of ages and life experiences. This work would not exist without them - and where it goes from here? Well… que será, será. -Scott Scott Dare is one of the directors of Getting Old Sucks. Getting Old Sucks is a new danztheatre work that explores what aging means and looks like. This work has been in the making for nearly two years. Mark your calendars and get your tickets. February 22 - March 3 Friday & Saturday, 8pm Sunday, 3pm |