Artist Statement

I live on Hornby Island, in the Salish Sea, part of the coastal rain forest of British Columbia. Most of my adult life I have been a dancer, choreographer, and storyteller; presenting works throughout North America and Europe.  My creations have always had a strong storytelling aspect…revealing, in spoken text and danced gestures, the inner lives of the performers I work with. When I make work, I am hoping that by arranging personal stories in a careful constellation, they become universal. A kind of poetic logic and rigour takes place, making sure that not more is said than needs to be said. I am always interested in specific details.

A few years ago, I began a daily practice of walking into the garden and forest; gathering leaves, moss, flowers, bits of growing things around me…each morning I lay them out on a black book and design a creation. Often, they are dancers, birds, or animals. Everything seems to be in motion, an endless ballet. I am continually surprised and astonished by how markings, textures and shapes in plants and flowers seem to reflect the markings, textures, and shapes of a myriad of living creatures. They inherently have motion, costume, drama, and stories. Each morning, as I work, I wonder at the limitless choreography of nature.

Growing up, we had a menagerie of pets, and as much as I loved studying dance, I was even more passionate about interacting with and observing animals and birds. My family spent a lot of time hiking and camping in the forests, mountains, and beaches of British Columbia.  From an early age I was fascinated to sit still beside tidal pools, or in the grass by flowers and insects, and see how much I could notice. I realized that the more I slowed down and focused the more I could see…snails began to move, hermit crabs emerged from their shells, rock fish revealed themselves in the crevices, leaves seemed to unfold in living origami. My father, a geologist, liked to show me how small channels of water running through sand created miniature landscapes, mirroring patterns of erosion that take place on a grander scale;  the movements of rivers through mountains, and the creation of canyons and peaks. I was enthralled by how nature reflected nature. Microcosm reflecting macrocosm…I often find myself saying aloud “everything is in everything”.