The Tour Starts Here: Dancing with the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange at the Corcoran

"It's art. It's dance. It's architecture. It's all about surprises as Liz Lerman Dance Exchange and friends transform the Corcoran Gallery."

That's what they promised... And that's what they got! Imagine going to the Corcoran Museum to see a performance and deciding to become a part of it--to the unexpected delight of the choreographer, dancers, and the audience! That's what David and I did today. (And to think we almost walked out in the middle of it all, thinking it was already over.)

Today at the Corcoran Museum, the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange did three performances of a piece called, "Tour Starts Here." The idea behind the piece is to explore how you look at art and what happens if you change your position, change your perspective. There's no way to get the whole picture because you can only see what's going on in front of you or if you look around. With the dancers today, the viewer/audience was forced to look around to see what was going on. Sometimes it made you look at the art again. Sometimes the dance was virtually unrelated to its surroundings. Sometimes it was a bit of waiting for something to happen. As viewers walked through the museum they encountered different dancers doing routines. Sometimes it was a repetitive loop. Sometimes they tried to engage the audience. Sometimes they asked the audience to move out of the way, because they were going to need that spot for the ensuing performance.

About half way in, the whole company did a piece on the marble steps going up to the second floor. One dancer sang Dona Nobis Pacem. The other dancers tried to get him to "shut up." But he kept singing away. The dancers moved up and down the steps, and one dancer physically tried to stop the male singer. It was interesting. It finished and the dancers all walked away to different parts of the museum. It seemed like a likely end to the performance. A bit of social commentary about how society tries to silence voices of peace, but the voices of peace always persist.

David and I looked at our watches and decided that we would leave. One of the dancers was sitting reading a newspaper in the cafe. We decide to go over and talk to her to determine if she was improvising another dance, or just hanging out. As we sat down at the table, another dancer also sat down at the table, and they began to do their thing. She struggled. He controlled. David and I sat there. We did not get up. I picked up the newspaper the female dance had put down, and made a comment about it to David. He asked if the paper was even current. It was yesterday's paper. There was an interesting article about places to go camping in the area.

The female dancer did her movements of struggle--arms shaking in the air, falling down at the male dancer's feet, trying to get him to go with her. He didn't move, except for gestures that were of a controlling nature, as if he were a puppet master and she a puppet. I kept up the commentary about her struggle. She danced into David's space (he had his feet up on a chair), and I suggested that David be nice to her and not kick her. I commented that he was much nicer than the male dancer and he would never treat me so harshly. He agreed.

The female dancer then moved into my space. I touched her-- patted her head, stroked her hair. She moved away, and then came back in for more. I embraced her and held her for a moment. She moved away and continued with her dance with her partner. She tried to get him to get up and go with her. It was a bit painful to watch. He seemed so oblivious to her needs and wants. I said to David, "Don't you just want the tell the guy to get up and go with her already?" Eventually, the male dancer did, and the dance ended. The female dancer came over and thanked us for having "lunch" with her and told us we'd see her again next week. (Like this was a usual occurrence)

That was just the beginning. We were kind of hooked on engaging with the dancers. So we found a couple upstairs at the top of the marble stairs just hanging out and watching museum patrons pass by. We stood next to them and struck up a conversation. Yes, they actually talked with us. Another dancer went and sat in the middle of the steps. People just walked past her. She was very pretty sitting there so peacefully, waiting for something.

In our conversation with the dancers next to us, we discussed being involved in the dance. I suggested that David go sit next to the woman on the stairs. The dancer encouraged him, agreeing that this would be a good idea. She knew what was coming next, though we did not.

So David went and sat with the dancer on the steps. They began humming Dona Nobis Pacem. I could barely hear them, but every few notes wafted up into the upper space. Nothing was going on around me so I decided to go join David. I sat on the right side of the dancer. David was on the left. She didn't say anything to either one of us, and in no way indicated that we should get up. So we stayed. Then I looked up and noticed that a whole crowd had formed at the bottom of the steps, and the dancers were above us, behind us on the steps. The dancer sitting between us began to sing (in a very lovely voice), and David and I joined in. Then she began moving her arms, and David and I followed suit. We sang and danced with her, and even improvised a few movements of our own, which she followed. As the other dancers began to descend the stairs, David and I got up and moved down the stairs with them and into the audience. The dancers finished their performance, descending the stairs, singing for peace, surrounded by the angel statuary. It was truly lovely. Much better commentary, this message of hope and peace.

After the performance, many people came over to David and I and asked if we were part of the company. (Of course not!) I took a couple of classes and have seen several Liz Lerman Dance Exchange performances over the years, and I have taken enough dance classes to be able to move. David is just naturally graceful. Are we friends/relatives/parents of the dancer on the stairs? No, we've never seen her before in our lives. We don't know anybody in the dance company or the summer intensive program. One of the choreographers came over with her mother and "thanked" us for participating in her dance. She did say that she was taken aback when she saw us sitting on the steps. And then she was impressed (positively) with our engagement and ability to join in and go with the flow. One of the leads for the summer program (the group that did these performances) came over and asked who these fabulous people were. And then he told us rehearsal starts Monday at 9am.

Thinking back on it, it really was a fun and rather surreal experience. How often do we have these opportunities to engage so deeply with life in the moment? Probably more often than we think. So I guess the real question is not how often does an opportunity like this arise, but how often do we take the opportunity? Or better still, how often do we create the opportunity?

Today, the inclination to rise definitely paid off!