Prolific progress, simultaneous setbacks

Now that the choreography was starting to solidify, it was time to begin storyboarding. Maya, Ken, and I met at Lake Merritt. I performed the choreography while Ken got out his sketchpad and Maya took still photos to see what angles would and wouldn't work. By the end of the session, we had a plethora of material to serve as the building blocks for our storyboards and shot list. We reviewed the photos over dinner. For the first time, the project felt real. I was no longer doing abstract preproduction activities on my own. We were a team, and we were actually planning out what we'd be doing on the shoot. This was the artistic part. This was the reason I was doing the project to begin with. The obstacles had finally cleared, and now it was time for us to move forward. This is how I felt, but only for a moment.

I was still in the meeting with Maya and Ken when my phone rang. The caller ID told me it was my dancer, who had just returned from an intensive Kathak retreat. After she got back into town, we were to meet with Sam to go over the movements she'd already choreographed and then collaboratively work out the rest. But, as I would soon find out, these plans were about to change. "I have some news that you're probably not going to like," she started to say. From the sound of her voice, I knew it couldn't be good.

Before she had left town, I told her about what had happened with the dance school (to which she still belonged). I assured her that we were not going to step on their choreography; that we were creating movements that were totally new. I did, however, want to use a few Kathak steps that were definitely not property of this particular school. At the time, she agreed that she would be willing to incorporate these steps. After the retreat, this all changed. She said that, when the teachers at the Kathak school found out she might be using these steps, "they didn't say no, but they didn't look like they exactly approved." Not wanting to do anything that the dance school would deem disrespectful, she opted to bow out of the role. Of course I was disappointed, but I understood how long a relationship she'd had with her teachers and how important this practice was to her. Not wanting to do anything that would jeopardize these things, I agreed that her leaving the project was the best idea. But who would be my dancer? There were very few people I knew -- if any at all -- who could fill such a specialized role.

"You could ask Valarie," she said. "I'm sure she'd be willing to do it if she had the time."

A light bulb went off in my head at that moment. Why didn't I think of that before?