MFA Monday: Megan Yankee

by Lydia MFA Mondays

After the Master: The Post-Grad School Rut

In my last year of graduate school, I made it a point to try and develop a set personal movement practices that I could take with me after I graduated. This was my best attempt at thwarting the drop-off of creative stimulation that I had heard many of my peers experience once they graduated. I had imagined creating a single perfect set of both biomechanical warm-ups and creative practices that would allow me to remain creatively engaged when I was no longer able to attend the many classes grad school afforded me. I wanted to DEFEAT THE RUT!

The main change in my perspective between then and now is that, in this year since grad school, I realized that I never really needed a single set of exercises. How limiting! Over the course of the year, I began to understand that my body and circumstances had changed so often that doing so would be like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, and into an oval hole, and in a star-shaped hole, et cetera. I have accepted that there is no way to be engaged with a creative practice that equals that of graduate school. Even a substantial career outside of graduate school is different (not better or worse) and requires different things of your creativity and body. Ah, the things I could have only learned outside of school. Abundance can teach us only so much.

So, serendipitously, I realized not too long ago that I already had the perfect set of tools to create a movement practice anywhere, any time. The breadth and depth of exposure that my cohort had to somatic and creative practices, as well as those I sought out on my own, were, and still are more than enough to pull from. Without my knowing it really, I had been filling my personal practice grab bag the whole time. You may think it obvious, but, silly me. I suppose I had been so focused on “the doing” of grad school, that I hadn’t realized I was also keeping not only written documentation of it all for future reference, but a physicalized one as well. If I hadn’t written the somatic practice or creative exercise into my movement history during grad school, I at least knew where to look for more information. If I did retain a physicalized memory of any one practice or exercise, it must have been an important one!

For the year after graduation, I hadn’t realized I had done this. I thought it had all left me. I didn’t know I had done a majority of the work leg work already.

I was stuck, mourning the loss of the true hot bed of creatively

that I had enjoyed so much in Denton, Texas.

And… that’s okay. I spent a lot of time blaming myself and my program for not giving me the tools I thought I needed. Why, upon graduation had I not set myself up with a career in dance? Why hadn’t my professors taught me this or that? Why didn’t I just seek it out myself? Why was the condition of my body changing and why was I letting it happen? This is something I chalk up to my youth and lack of creative career experience prior to grad school. Between finishing my undergraduate degree and beginning my graduate studies, I had let my creative self atrophy along with my physical condition. Much less dancemaking, much more teaching and for low or no pay. It was very disheartening. I assumed for the past year, that I was doing it all over again.

It certainly seemed that way on the surface. I had to get a job in reception to pay the bills. I wasn’t learning a new dance or creating a new dance or going to classes. Only, again I say it’s impossible to mimic the academic environment’s many characteristics. Unless you’re in New York City or the Pacific Northwest, its unlikely that you have access to more than one truly engaging, rigorous contemporary dance class per week. You may have NO access to a somatics class outside of yoga. If you ARE in those cities, you may not be able to afford to take class regularly. And it’s okay. I was given many things that I held onto during grad school that would only be unlocked by the serendipitous entrance of a person into my life that ended up becoming a very close friend.

I owe many thanks to a single woman who helped me acknowledge and re-engage with my physical and creative self. Unlike in grad school though, she had inspired me to do so not with the intention of becoming a better dancer, not with the intention of becoming more beautiful or flexible or strong. It was, for the first time in my life, purely (and intentionally) for joy… for the love of moving and feeling and thinking with my body… and for the love of encouraging people who didn’t consider themselves dancers to understand their bodies better. Sometimes I was able to find this sweet spot in classes during school here and there, but it was always with the understandable agenda of becoming a better dancer. Rarely was it for joy and fulfillment alone.

My former roommate, who is not a dancer, often requested to do partners yoga with me for fun, sang, stretched and danced around in the house, knew how to exercise joyfully outside whether it was 10 degrees below zero or a 95 degree scorcher, and who encouraged me to pick up painting for the first time in my life. She openly asked for help with certain ailments or asked questions about parts of the body that made her curious. She and I often talked about the Philosophy of the Body course she was taking. This new perspective on a physicalized, healthy and happy body was something I hadn’t experienced as fully in all my years of gymnastics, colorguard and dance. I was lucky to have such a positively-physicalized person in my life to learn from.

This solution for anyone who may experience their own “Post Grad School Rut” is not really a one-size-fits-all solution, I suppose. My particular circumstances were unique and the fortunate entrance of my friend into my life happened to be what I needed at the time.

However, what I would share with my younger self if I could can be summed

up by an excerpt of an interview between

Stephen Colbert and Patrick Stewart, as silly as it may sound:

Colbert: If you, Patrick Stewart, could send a message back to younger Patrick Stewart, what would you warn Patrick Stewart about Patrick Stewart’s future?

Stewart: It’s very, very simple because I didn’t have much fun as a kid. I was always responsible … I would go back, and I would say ‘Patrick, CHEER THE **** UP!’

My goal here is also simple: If you find yourself in The Rut, be easy on yourself. Especially if you are just launching your career whether its as a teacher, dancer, choreographer or any combination of them all. You already made it through the gauntlet. Your life will change, possibly dramatically and its one thing to prepare for this mentally; it’s entirely different to go through it and flourish as a result. You cannot recreate the rigour of grad school in a day, or in years, so take it easy. You’ll figure it out. If you were fortunate enough not to experience The Rut, then please reach out to the people you cared about in school and catch up with them. You never know who may need you.

Next week we will hear from Gabrielle Aufiero. This woman took a path I hadn’t seen before after grad school by entering further training to become a teacher with Teach for America while working with a North Texas dance company called Simple Sparrow. Her steadfastness, professionalism, as well as her thoughtful and precise movement style are difficult to rival. I can’t wait to share her thoughts with you all!

As always, please don’t hesitate to contact me with any further questions or thoughts at meganyankeedance@gmail.com

Megan is an indie dance artist that seeks opportunities to make and present dances in alternative spaces in order to expand the reach of concert dance. She is committed to presenting work and curating concerts in houses, busy street corners, warehouses, dance for film, online and in visual art galleries. She has performed and presented work nationally and internationally at the Nomad Express Multi Arts Festival in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso produced by Olivier, the Sonic Arts Research Center in Belfast, Northern Ireland, American Dance Festival, American College Dance Festival, Texas Dance Improvisation Festival, Movement Intensive in Composition and Improvisation in Lancaster, PA, Emerge and Exchange Dance Festivals in Tulsa, OK, {254} Festival in Waco, Texas, Out of Loop Festival in Addison, TX, and the Rogue Festival in Fresno, CA. She has had the honor of performing in works by Christie Nelson, Amie LeGendre, Larry Keigwin, Michael Foley, Jordan Fuchs, Sandy Mathern-Smith and Sarah Gamblin.

Megan holds (and runs with) an MFA in Dance from Texas Woman’s University and currently lives in Columbus, OH with her partner, John Osburn and their two dogs, Weecho and Lucy.

MFA Monday: Erin Law

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Good Morning! Framers, I am so pleased to bring you Megan Yankee’s next installment of MFA Monday, a rich interview her with colleague and friend Erin Law. Enjoy!

After the Master: Interview with Erin Law, M.F.A.

I am happy to present my interview with Erin Law this week. Erin and I met at Denison University where she was teaching as a visiting assistant professor in the 2012-2013 school year. We have since traveled to Burkina Faso (West Africa) together to perform a work by Sandra Mathern-Smith. Her warmth and expertise is something I greatly admire and I cherish her friendship and mentorship. If you have any questions for her, please email me at meganyankeedance@gmail.com and I will happily forward them to her. Enjoy!

M: How are you using the knowledge and experiences you gained in grad school now (outside of work)?

E: I think mainly the knowledge and experiences I gained serve as a reminder to stay true to myself no matter what. In school I had the opportunity to delve in deep, to explore and discover my aesthetic voice. I think that in this world that often devalues art as a valid form of work, it is important to stay connected to self and to have integrity in the face of adversity.

M: Do you have a regular movement practice (even if it’s atypical)?

E: I am sure to move (consciously) every day in some way, even if it’s not exactly how I desire. I have enjoyed walking a lot recently. I like to connect with the environment that way. Sometimes I do small dances while making copies, others I stray from the path that leads directly from point A to point B…

M: What was your focus in grad school?

E: I focused on improvisation as performance. Through collaboration and experimentation I discovered many modalities through which to become more specific and rigorous in improvising as a soloist, part of a group, and as a contact dancer. I also focused equally on developing my skills as a sound artist. I did this so to face my fears and self-judgment and also to be able to make things that I could post online without worrying about how copyright laws apply to the presentation of my work (live or online). Although it was my last semester I discovered film through a composition class we took and I fell in love with it. So while it wasn’t a constant focus when I was there, I have continued to explore it in my independent professional work.

M: How/did your employment status shift after grad school? What was the job search and application process like for your current position?

E: Each school year following graduate school, my employment status has shifted. After graduate school where I was a Teaching Fellow, I moved back to Tennessee and did some adjunct work at Middle Tennessee State University. This was a huge turning point for me as a dance educator because I was asked to teach Dance Appreciation as a general education course. I had to learn quickly how to shift from depending largely on my body as a teaching tool to becoming an engaging lecturer. I found that the vast array of things I had been exposed to in graduate school combined with my training from Integrated Movement Studies (Laban/Bartenieff Movement Analysis) served me here, because it prepared me with the skills to create meaningful hands-on activities for very diverse groups of students. I then became a Visiting Assistant Professor at Denison University as a sabbatical replacement the following school year. This was my first opportunity to work full time teaching both theory and technique courses, creating choreography, and advising students. This gave me the chance to expand on things I had been developing over the last several years of my teaching career in a very supported and focused manner.

This year has been the most challenging in terms of finding meaningful work. I have experienced a lot of potential opportunities, rejections, and a great sense of humbling. I am proud of myself for my perseverance.

I feel, despite the lack of fruitful employment after a year of searching, a freedom to imagine new and different pathways for myself in the near future. I am still applying for academic positions but I am also interested in freelancing and collaborating with dance artists with whom I really want to work.

M: What is your opinion regarding the state of adjunct positions in the US?

E: I preface my personal commentary by saying I have not researched the state of adjunct positions here, so I am coming from my own frame of reference as well as hearsay from fellow adjuncts. First, I believe it must be a very different experience depending on which school and region one works. I think there is a double edged sword with adjunct work: there is less institutional responsibility, freeing me as an artist to do other things with my time but then there are no health benefits, the pay is very poor and the teaching load can still be incredibly demanding. I have enjoyed having less institutional responsibilities this year, it has allowed me to do other things with my time. Then again, as someone who enjoys investing in my students, I find myself naturally inclined to advise and mentor students; it provides me great fulfillment. This is where boundaries are fuzzy because it is not part of my job description, I am not getting paid for it, but there I am doing it anyway. I think adjunct positions—specifically in dance—only exacerbate our masochistic cultural tendency to work (or in some cases, toil) for free “all for the love of dance.” It can create in me a sense of resentment and devaluing of my own skills. It is certainly not a sustainable source of employment, but I can see how it could be useful for some.

The thing I struggle with is that adjuncts and tenured professors could be providing the same level of quality teaching but are not receiving the same benefits for their work.

Adjuncts are left out in the cold when it comes to issues of health insurance, travel benefits, and general accessibility to the perks an institution can offer. We all need to be compensated fairly for our work and that is not happening.

M: How are you using the knowledge and experiences you gained in grad school in your current position?

E: I have several jobs right now so this question has different answers depending on which job I am discussing…I will start with my day job. I support a high school English teacher who is blind. This was her very first year teaching and she had a lot to learn. Although it was not part of my job description I found myself having philosophical discussions with her all year about how to approach teaching …I think I served her as a type of pedagogical advisor. I have helped her to consider how learning can be a hands on activity and a kinesthetic experience. I have been able to bring the analytic skills I acquired in graduate school to my job evaluating her work as well as the students’ work.

In my adjunct work, the connections are much more straightforward. As I discussed before the exposure to so many different contemporary artists helped prepare me to teach Dance Appreciation. I also feel that getting to teach and take several semester length technique courses in graduate school allowed me to understand the flow of a semester and how I wanted it to progress for my students.

I think one of the most instrumental or significant/sentimental ways in which my experiences in grad school affect my current work is in my independent choreography.

I feel much more adequately prepared to take on big projects and take really big risks. I am not as attached to my work and don’t treat as this precious thing that is an appendage of my own body anymore and I owe that to the critique process I experienced in grad school.

I seek out critical feedback which is something I never did before in Nashville.

M: Roughly how many times have you performed or presented your work since you graduated. How does this compare to the amount of times you did so during and before graduate school?

E: I have presented work about nine times over the last three years since I graduated. This includes the production of three dance films, two of which were presented as part of live performances. During graduate school I performed or presented work one to two times per semester over a total of four semesters. I was definitely making work and/or involved in others’ work during graduate school more intensely than when I left. A marked difference in the timeline of producing work is that I now seek my own opportunities to present work and thus decide (within reason) my own deadlines/show dates, whereas in graduate school, these things were essentially determined for me. In this way it feels equal. Before graduate school I presented work as part of annual or semesters’ end dance concerts more frequently than seeking alternative or site-specific performance spaces. I adhered more to a studio’s schedule than my own desire to make work. I enjoy that I am liberated from that now!

M: Is there a project you’re itching to get started on?

E: I am very excited to start on a project that I will present at the end of July. Earlier this year I had an anxiety dream related to work and it featured me digging through bags of underwear and markers. My friend (and collaborator) suggested I shed the anxiety aspect of the dream and explore the specific images of underwear and markers in a dance. That resonated with me immediately so I started dreaming up ideas. I am looking forward to working with a few improvisers to develop a performance score with these items and mainly the freedom they represent to me.

Erin Law is a movement educator, improviser, choreographer, and performance artist based in Nashville, Tennessee who is determined to both challenge and bring harmony to her community through dance. Recently she has completed a yearlong Visiting Assistant Professorship at Denison University where she restaged a choreographic work and taught Somatics, Understanding Dance, Laban Movement Analysis, Contact Improvisation, Senior Research, and Cultural Studies as sabbatical replacement for Dr. Gill Wright Miller. Previous engagements include an adjunct professorship at Middle Tennessee State University and Assistant Director of the co-curricular Vanderbilt Dance Program.

Originally from Massachusetts, Law attended Hobart and William Smith Colleges in Geneva, NY from which she graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a B.A. and high honors in dance. She went on to the Integrated Movement Studies program to certify in Laban/Bartenieff Movement Analysis (LMA) through the University of Utah and in the spring of 2011, Erin graduated from the Master of Fine Arts program in dance at Smith College (Massachusetts) with her MFA in choreography and performance.

In her independent work Erin is currently pursuing the integration of site-specific improvisations in movement, identity theory, sound, and film under the project heading salt_space. She is collaborating with fellow dance artists Janelle Bonfour-Mikes and Travis Cooper in a performance piece exploring both the repression and unleashing of humans’ animal nature with the working title “Underwear and Markers (We Are Animals)” which will be shown in late July 2014. Erin is delighted to have just returned from Burkina Faso, Africa where she had the honor of performing with Sandra Mathern, John Osburn, and Megan Yankee in Mathern’s multi-media work “I Am Relative to You” as part of Olivier Tarpaga’s 2014 Nomad Express Festival.

Megan Yankee’s MFA Monday arc began last week and continues next week!

MFA Monday: Megan Yankee

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Hi Framers, happy Monday!

I think my favorite part of the Frame Dance blog is MFA Monday– for several reasons. One is that is it a great reminder that we are not alone in the pursuit of dance as an advanced degree, a career, an art form, or as a tool for building communities. It can be very isolating, especially when I don’t know all of you who read this. I wish I did! Of course I can read the stats of viewers on the blog, but when it’s just numbers, I don’t always know if this resource is helpful. But then there are those days that I get an email from someone who has been reading these columns, and has valued the wisdom that our fellow writers have shared and wants to participate in the conversation. That is a VERY happy day for me. It reminds me that although our career can at times be isolating, dancers are people who are generous with their knowledge and hungry for more. I admire you.

Today we welcome Megan Yankee to the Frame Dance blog. She opens a series today, and as the weeks unfold, you’ll hear from several of her colleagues about their MFA stories. I am so very excited (and I’ve only had one sip of my coffee). Here we go!

After the Master: Introduction

Many of the wonderful, previous MFA Monday contributors have provided guidance for facing the challenges leading into and during their graduate studies. Accordingly, my goal with this series is to provide a snapshot of the world after you’ve finished. My blog arch will be comprised largely of anecdotes from the subgroup of dance artists who entered graduate school during the Great Recession. Many of us are 35 years old or younger, came into graduate school with less than 5 years of making or teaching dance outside of school, and are now faced with an over-crowded and daunting job market.

If you’re anything like me, you fled that crumbling economy into graduate school for several reasons. Namely, my job prospects with a BA in dance were limited and graduate studies provided me with hope of inspiration and financial stability as a dancer. Teaching dance in public school was possible but limited and required additional schooling or certifications. Teaching in studios was financially precarious. Jobs that didn’t involve dance could pay the bills, but were largely uninteresting and could unwittingly cause creative atrophy if I wasn’t extremely disciplined with my personal practice and pursuit of non-academic performance opportunities. Graduate school offered me a way to further explore my craft alongside inspiring, intelligent peers AND the possibility of landing a position at a university that seemed financially stable and endlessly fascinating.

I have been fortunate enough to find performance opportunities as well as teach for a semester at a wonderful private liberal arts university for a semester since my graduation a year ago. Based on advice given to me, I have applied for a few other university jobs that I felt truly fit my goals, talents and experience. I have been met with the all-too-common “thanks, but no thanks” that I hear many of my peers receiving. I have, after much toil, come to terms with this, although I still shoot out applications here and there. In place of sending out applications weekly or daily, I have turned to my local arts council and other funders for financial support and performance opportunities. This has also been met with marginal success. More on this in future articles.

If graduate school is near the top of your list of difficult life experiences, wait until you try to continue making or teaching dance after you graduate without the aid of academia. (Throw in a cross-country move after graduation and you may end up in break-down mode like I did, something I would never wish that upon anyone). What I didn’t read enough about in graduate school was the struggle outside of the studio that the choreographers we studied went through. Did Steve Paxton eat ramen noodles daily to save money? Did Martha Graham perform on the streets for tips? Did Trisha Brown have two office jobs to pay the rent? Maybe I was reading the wrong stuff; it’s certainly possible! But perhaps if I had sought out this kind of information, I might have felt a little more capable of making great dance without academia. Is it out of those struggles that great dance making emerges?

In the year since I earned my master’s degree, I’ve nursed dreams of starting a non-profit or my own dance company, building a tiny house on a friend’s patch of land atop a mountain in Colorado and everything in between. I’ve performed five times, attempted to learn aikido and tai chi and I haven’t finished a one of the many books that I’ve started. The forthcoming series of articles I have assembled is not meant to be a guide, dear dancer-reader, but a series of accounts of what life can be like after graduation if you don’t land a coveted tenure-track position. Admittedly, I am less interested in the artistic process for this series. I want to know what the life of MFAs is like outside of the studio because that outside life has a direct effect on the work being made or NOT made.

Coming soon will be two more articles written by yours truly on the topics I have introduced above as well as one article or interview written by each of my colleagues Erin Law, Gabrielle Aufiero and Amanda McCorckle. These fantastic women have taken separate paths after graduate school. Again, my goal here is not to guide you through life after graduate school, but to show the diversity of options (and any challenges associated with them) that we are faced with once we graduate. Stay tuned.

I welcome any reader’s desire to continue this dialogue through questions or comments. Please feel free to shoot me an email at meganyankeedance@gmail.com.

Megan holds (and runs with) an MFA in Dance from Texas Woman’s University and currently lives in Columbus, OH with her partner, John Osburn and their two dogs, Weecho and Lucy.

MFA Monday: Rebekah Chappell

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Hi Framers! A very happy summer Monday to you! We are embarking on some exciting and fresh MFA Monday contributions this summer, and we are thrilled to begin with Rebekah Chappell. She is about to leave Houston for an MFA program and tells us here about how she chose a program. Reading this, I was impressed by how thoroughly she searched for the right program, and her very wise steps to get to her final choice. What do you think?

MFA Monday Part I:

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to pursue my MFA in Dance. I love school. I love the community of learning, the diversity of disciplines and perspectives, the atmosphere of inquiry and exploration, the smell of new books, the hustle and bustle of the campus, and the fresh start every semester. Most of all I love the relationships that are built through discussion and inquiry. I have been researching Graduate Schools for years, taking notes, making lists, and asking every MFA graduate I know about the process. This past winter I auditioned at Smith College, The University of Maryland, and The University of Iowa. I accepted an offer at The University of Iowa, and will begin Fall 2014. Here are a few things I learned in the process and questions I encourage you to ask if you are considering returning to school.

Researching programs:

What are you looking for in a program? As I began my research, I had a short list of must haves including the opportunity to teach, as well as emphasis on improvisation, somatic practices, and choreography for alternative spaces. My deal breaker was financial aid. I only applied to programs that offered a full tuition waiver to ALL students accepted into the program. While this greatly reduced my options and made the programs extremely competitive, I knew that if I was accepted into a school without financial assistance, I would be too tempted to take out loans. Tuition waivers are generally part of package labeled as a scholarship, fellowship, and/or assistantship. These appointments can include different responsibilities in the dance department such as teaching and administrative work. At The University of Iowa, I will be responsible for teaching three classes a year. In the fall, I am currently scheduled to teach Continuing Ballet to non-majors.

Many MFA programs have an emphasis in either performance or choreography. Some programs offer tracks in both areas, allowing you to select the track that meets your goals. Regardless of your preference, take a very close look at the required and elective courses offered at each school, and gage your interest in each class. For example, I was not excited about taking mandatory ballet classes. I wanted the freedom to decide what my movement practice entailed. I ruled out schools that required mandatory technique classes in ballet.

Most programs also have a MFA handbook that contains specific details about expectations, timelines, and descriptions of required assignments and coursework. Some schools post these handbooks on their websites, if the handbook is not readily available online, check to see if the school would be willing to email you a copy. This detailed document will let you know what to expect of each program, and what each semester may look like. Personally, I was able to rule out a program on my short list after I examined the required summer reading list. I realized that the faculties’ interest did not match my own.

Lastly, at most schools there is a professor assigned to graduate recruiting. I contacted these professors and had a Skype conversation to further discuss their programs the summer before auditions. I found that during the summer, faculty had more time available to converse. In my experience, how you are able to interact with your teachers is a key component in learning. I wanted to see how we might get along and relate before applying. I was grateful that I had this opportunity as the audition experience is condensed into one or two days, and it is difficult to have in depth conversation.

The application and audition process:

Why do you want to go to graduate school at this time? Why did you apply to our program? What do you hope to research / explore / learn while you are in school? Every program I looked into asked these three questions at one point or another. These are the crucial questions that help determine whether you are accepted. More and more artists are returning to Graduate School; the pool of candidates I encountered were driven, successful and had a diversity of talents and experiences. Schools are looking for applicants who are going to be a good fit for their specific program. It is important to tailor your answers to each program and be specific and clear with your intentions.

In retrospect I wish I had answered those last two questions differently. I noticed while auditioning that most programs have their “claim to fame”, something they are proud of and that sets them apart from other schools. For me, that was the thing that had drawn me to their program. I felt silly sharing details about their program in my application, as I felt it was redundant. If I had to do it again, I would be more specific in mentioning those strengths and how they would help me accomplish my goals in a tangible way. Make sure you address in your application how their program will help you achieve a specific goal as it shows that you did research and that your interest and goals align with the program. Remember that a MFA program is two- three years long; be realistic about what you can do in that amount of time.

Some schools offer the option of staying with a current graduate student during your audition visit. I highly recommend this experience. While the accommodations may not be private or luxurious, it provides valuable insight into your potential quality of life. All three of the places I auditioned would have resulted in relocating to a new region of the US. I learned a lot about the lifestyles of each area. For example, at The University of Iowa most students walk or take public bus transportation to school due to parking difficulties. This played a big part in the housing my husband and I end up selecting. Staying with a graduate student also provides a deeper insight into the dance department, and allows you to get to know a potential cohort better. I found that both parties were more honest in the privacy of the home.

Finally, don’t forget that your entire visit is an interview. While this may seem obvious, be sure to bring professional dress clothing to change into after dancing or teaching. I would recommend being able to walk outside comfortably in whatever shoes you select. I spent quite a bit of time trekking through the snow! Be professional, everything you do and say may be passed on to the selection committee. It can be difficult to have grace and poise when you are in unfamiliar territory and full of nerves! Do your best to stay positive, patient, calm, and open to the experience and whatever it may entail. Don’t forget to smile, breath, and have fun!

” I am looking forward to sharing my perspective again in the fall

after I have started school. In the meantime, I’d love to hear

from you with questions or your viewpoint! ”

Rebekah Chappell is from Williamsburg, Virginia. She holds a BFA in Dance, Summa Cum Laude (2009) from Shenandoah University. She has also studied at the summer intensives of American Dance Festival, Dance New Amsterdam, and North Carolina Dance Theater. After graduating from Shenandoah, Rebekah lived in Costa Rica where she taught and choreographed at Danceworks Costa Rica and Promethean Spark: Danza par la Vida. She then moved to Houston, Texas, where she has had the delight of dancing for choreographers Jennifer Wood, Karen Stokes, Sandra Organ Solis, Erin Reck, Jane Weiner, Steve Rooks, Stephen Koplowitz, Roxanne Claire, and Ashley Horn. Currently she is Adjunct Faculty at San Jacinto College South and teaches at Claire School of Dance. Her choreography has been presented in Costa Rica in Cartago, Escazu, and San Jose, and in Texas at The Dance Gathering, Big Range Dance Festival, San Jacinto College South, Fieldworks Showcases, Venturing Out, 12 Minutes Max!, and Houston Choreographers X6. Rebekah will be starting her MFA Dance coursework, fall 2014, at The University of Iowa. You can learn more about Rebekah here: http://rebekahchappell.weebly.com/

MFA Monday: Little and Big Things

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Happy Monday Framers! Today we kick off a new MFA Monday arc written by the lovely and immensely talented Amanda Jackson!

MFA: Little and Big Things

Part 1 – Penguins, Collaborators, and Community… Oh My!

We’ve all seen him awkwardly permeating the web, penguining around in various social situations. He goes by Socially Awkward Penguin. While in grad school, my colleagues and I turned to the Internet abyss of memes and YouTube a little too often to escape stressful realities and enter other worlds of shock, awe, and wit. These moments of escaping together created bonds between us, albeit strange ones, that filtered into movement and theory classes, rehearsals and feedback sessions, and potlucks that doubled as times for mind-mapping. I would be withholding information if I didn’t tell you that some Internet gems even made appearances in our choreography.

Back to the penguin meme: The poor penguin offers an “Oh God No” reaction to a teacher that states, “Ok class, find a partner.” Although this is quite funny to me now as a teacher, the penguin’s offerings were slightly less relatable during grad school. Our cohort’s unique bonding experiences paired with TWU’s strong focus on Contact Improvisation made finding a partner more exciting than dancing solo.

We learned more about each other, through what I’ll call spontaneous movement puzzles, in extremely rigorous and generous class environments facilitated by our professors. We also learned through witnessing our partners’ thought processes and reactions as well as how they prefer to move and be moved, even beyond a physical sense. This is what drew many of us to the MFA program and to each other.

Back in 2010 a group of ten dancers from TWU, all in various stages of our MFA cycles, came together to form Big Rig Dance Collective – a Denton-based group that is now co-directed by myself, Whitney Boomer, Crysta Caulkins-Clouse, and Lily Sloan. The impetus for our collective was to create more outlets beyond the academic setting to develop a deeper collaborative process. Big Rig was also experimenting with new methods of inviting communities into our process through performances and workshops. We ultimately wanted more of everything and were eager to share with everyone! (As if our graduate work didn’t keep us busy enough.)

I share this with you because I think there is something intriguing about our grad school environment that encouraged our desire to connect communities through dance. Also sprouting from this environment were Muscle Memory, CholoRock, and Simple Sparrow. I am reminded of the energy that we all brought into this environment – It felt electric and contagious, an infinite cycle. In my mind, we fueled the environment just as much as it fueled us.

So in the spirit of community, I’ll leave you with some insights from my friend/colleague/co-director/fellow kitchen improviser:

“After I graduated and began working as an adjunct professor in the community, I was still as driven as ever to work in Big Rig, but I felt the harsh reality of being removed from the community from which Big Rig was born. All of my friends were still in grad school, and I was out. I missed out on the inside jokes, the basement banter, and simply the wonderful treat of moving and dancing with friends on a daily basis. It was very, very hard.

Throughout the continual journey of figuring out what we want Big Rig to be in our lives, I have realized that community is first. This sense of community might mean remembering to see each other as friends first. It means developing a rich and rigorous dance practice with each other, in the midst of our crazy schedules and busy lives. I feel best when I stop and remember the first reason that we ever started collaborating: we liked each other. We liked each other’s ideas, energy, spirit, and creativity. Out of that likeable attraction comes some of our best work.” – Lily Sloan

So as you are researching MFA programs, I think it is equally important to research the MFA students. Are they doing work that interests you? Are they welcoming and supportive of what you can bring to the cohort? Are they people with whom you can spend long nights in the basement watching ridiculous YouTube videos? These MFA students can become some of your strongest supporters and collaborators throughout your time in grad school and beyond.

Amanda Jackson holds an MFA in Dance from Texas Woman’s University. She is a performer, choreographer, educator, stylist, and avid cooking improviser. Her work has been presented across Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Louisiana with a notable experience at Harvard University with collaborator, Matthew Cumbie. Amanda is Co-Director of Big Rig Dance Collective in Denton, TX and Adjunct Professor of Dance at Tarrant County College Northwest. www.ajdance.org

MFA Monday: Amanda Diorio

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Happy Monday and thank you to the soldiers who have protected this country!

We’re back with the final installment by Amanda Diorio. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!

There is not enough time to do everything under the sun.

Entering the MFA program at UNC Greensboro I anticipated having loads of time to take heaps of courses both in and out of the department. At the start 3 years seems like a long time. In the end it went by so fast I remember wishing I could have taken more courses than I had time for. If you come in with all your prerequisites met many programs are only 60 credits total for an MFA intended to be completed in 3 years. That translates to 10 credits a semester, which usually ends up being 3 academic courses and a technique class (this of course depends on your department). When I was registering for fall semester of the third year and looking ahead to the final semester in the spring I was discouraged that I had not had a chance to take every course from every teacher I originally wanted to. I was comforted looking back on how much I was able to do while I was there but there was still a feeling that I could have done more. I came to the realization that even though the time seems to drag when you are working on the 20 page research paper with little sleep in the long run it goes by quickly (if you thought high school and college went fast just wait). Think about this when you start your program. Try to decide what it is you want to your studies to focus on early. This will help you to create space in your academic plan and allow you to touch on the subjects that interest you the most.

Go at your own pace.
I have a bad habit of comparing myself to others. I tell myself I am not doing enough because so and so did so much more in my same position. This is not a good attitude to have in general but certainly not while trying to obtain a terminal degree. Know your own limits in regards to stress, work load and sleep deprivation and respect them. Like every individual candidates deal with the stress and time management in their own way. I was marveled at some of my friends who took on so many projects while pursuing their MFAs both in and out of the department. Some of my colleagues were fostering companies and other artistic ventures outside of school. Some of them had families going into the department while others planned weddings and were pregnant while working on their degrees. I could barely handle taking care of my two cats and myself while balancing the heavy workload. Working outside of the degree also varied, several people found outside employment while a number survived on student loans. Deciding to participate and perform in other student and faculty works is also a decision that affects how much time you have left for yourself and your course load. I found it comforting to live less than a mile away from campus to get that extra bit of sleep, quite a few of my friends found it more stressful to be so close and decided on a small (or not so small) commutes. Your family, tolerance for stress and strategies for time management all play a part in your decisions and individuals have their own set of circumstances that determine how they handle things. Do not compare yourself to others and decide that you are doing too much or not enough. Find what makes you comfortable and be proud of your accomplishments regardless. This is your degree and you should be able to obtain it in a way that makes you proud but also maintains your sanity.

Amanda Diorio is an adjunct faculty member at UNC-Greensboro and Elon University. She teaches adult classes open to the public at the North Carolina Dance Project where she is also a member of the board of directors. Amanda holds an M.F.A. in Choreography from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and a B.F.A. in Dance from Temple University. She has taught, produced, and choreographed dance extensively in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, Virginia, Florida and North Carolina at universities, studios, public and private schools and community centers. Specializing in Contemporary, Jazz and Hip Hop techniques she enjoys spreading peace, love and understanding through her teaching of dance, choreography and culture.

MFA Monday: Observations

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Please welcome back Amanda Diorio to MFA Monday on the Frame Dance Blog. Enjoy, dear Framers and have a happy Monday!

Observations that helped me create my MFA thesis

It will happen.

As those of us who have worked in show business are well aware “the show must go on”. It is amazing when you think about all that needs to get done in a production like an MFA thesis concert but miraculously it all happens. This was a helpful attitude to take when I was working on my own concert. I had no idea how all the work would get done but I knew that somehow it would all come together and of course it did. Remember this when you are at your wits end and about to freak out about not finishing your work for the show. One benefit of having a concert as a final project is that you have no choice but to get it all done. The dates have been set long in advance and cannot be changed. This is one advantage that those seeking other kinds of terminal degrees do not have. I have friends who have been working on their PhD dissertations for years. The have no specific end time so it can be drawn out. We as performers have the benefit of having a set date to be done by, a finish line to look towards. When you are in the thick of it and your life has consisted of this crazy schedule for years it is hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel but remember grad school is not real life. Your concert and your degree will happen. Hang in there!

The project is still a part of the learning.

While your final project is a reflection of your overall work in graduate school it is still a part of the learning process. There is this sense that your thesis concert is representation of all your work in graduate school. This is true to a point but you are still in graduate school while you are creating it, therefore making it part of a whole and not a separate entity representing your entire MFA education. As a first year MFA candidate it is easy to look at the third years that are settled in and comfortable in their working grove and think of them as finished products of the program. But as any third year will tell you, they are still in the thick of it. After your concert is over you will have to defend it to your committee and get an approval in order to receive the MFA. As you create your work you will learn new and valuable lessons along the way, thinking of this time as part of the learning process instead of the representation of that process can help you keep an open mind in terms of your own work. I found it extremely helpful to gather opinions from my committee members during this time just as I had done in my previous choreography classes. In the end I think this made my show better than it would have been had I considered myself a full-blown MFA while I was creating it. Keep the learning doors open all the way until graduation (and hopefully beyond) in order to get the most out of your MFA education.

MFA Monday: Stephanie Todd Wong

by Lydia MFA Mondays

It’s a new day, a new MONDAY. We welcome Stephanie Todd Wong to the Frame Dance blog. Enjoy her experiences today and for the next two weeks!

The Highs and Lows of My Personal Experience

I received my MFA from George Mason University in 2004 and I look back on those three years through a lens of extremes. Fondness, frustration, pride, uncomfort, growth are all words I use often when telling others about my experience. For me, it was a life changing experience full of highs and lows, as I believe it should be for everyone.

Highs:

Structure and resources: I suddenly had both! Class everyday, someone consistently asking me questions, challenging me, reserved studio time for rehearsal and dancers waiting for me, deadlines etc. It is amazing the work you can create when you have what you need to create it and the structure to both support and push you to produce your best.

Friends and colleagues: Some of my dearest friends were either colleagues I met while in school or my professors. The dance world is a small one and the relationships I built while in the program are just as important to me now as they were then. Our paths cross consistently and we still find ways to help and support one another.

Growth: I exited my MFA program a completely different artist than how I entered. I fully embraced the journey and allowed myself to be changed by it. The growth I experienced during those three years is probably one of things I’m most proud of.

Lows:

University politics: I wasn’t prepared for the reality of the politics I was exposed to during this time. I’m not sure if it was because of my specific program or the difference between being an undergrad versus a grad student, but the politics involved were much more evident. There were times I had to fight with administration to do what was best for me and I found it very frustrating. But it was also an important part of the learning process.

Exhaustion/Life Outside the Grad School Bubble: Or should I say the lack of my life outside the grad school bubble. An MFA program is intense with a lot of demands on your time. I taught adjunct while I was getting my degree and between teaching, my own classes, readings and assignments, rehearsals and performances, I was rarely anywhere other than the studio.

Cost: Grad school is expensive and I’m still paying back my student loans. And while I don’t love writing those checks each month, it was worth it for me.

Stephanie Todd Wong moved to Houston in 2008 after spending ten years in Washington DC as a dancer, choreographer, dance teacher and dance administrator. Stephanie holds a BA in Dance from Mercyhurst College and received her MFA in Dance from George Mason University in 2004. While living in Washington she was a dancer in the Dakshina/Daniel Phoenix Singh Dance Company, which performed in various locations in DC and New York City. She also had the privilege of working with Lorry May, founding director of Sokolow Dance Foundation to learn and perform Anna Sokolow’s The Lament for the Death of a Bullfighter. As a choreographer, Stephanie’s work was presented at both Joy of Motion and Dance Place. Stephanie also spent time teaching dance and worked to create a high school dance program for The Flint Hill School in Vienna Virginia. Beginning in 2007, Stephanie began working for Dance/MetroDC, the local branch office of Dance/USA, serving as its Programs Associate and ultimately its Interim Director. In this role she was responsible for creating and executing all the organizations programming, including the Metro DC Dance Awards, a region wide awards program that took place at The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Stephanie became Executive Director of Dance Source Houston in 2011 and currently sits on the Advisory Board for Arts + Culture Magazine and an Affiliate Working Group of Dance/USA.

MFA Monday: Matthew Cumbie

by Lydia MFA Mondays

Happy Monday dear Framers! I am excited to post this because I have so enjoyed reading Matthew Cumbie’s articles. But it’s the third of his arc, so that’s a bummer. But in the meantime, enjoy…

“Small Dances About Big Ideas,” and the importance of story telling*

So far, when writing these blog entries I’ve chosen to tackle topics that I’ve felt strongly about. I haven’t talked directly to my experiences in graduate school, or before or after, very much at all; a conscious choice of mine, most certainly. But in doing this I realize that I haven’t given much insight into who I am or what I do, merely glimpses; I haven’t shared my story, and frankly, I believe that everyone’s story matters. It’s this belief that shapes much of what I do today and has led me to where I am now. It’s also this belief that, for me, contextualizes the larger artistic questions that we as a community find ourselves asking and the research we do to explore those questions; in plain, within these personal stories lie universalities and shared experiences that ground what we know and how we come to know that.

My current story picks up in Washington, DC, where I am a Resident Artist and the Education Coordinator for Dance Exchange, an organization rich in history and rooted in the belief that everyone’s story matters and that everyone can and is encouraged to dance. The path taken to this fortuitous place has been one of much meandering, difficulty, and perseverance (and a bit of good fortune). Truly, until my time in graduate school I had a very small understanding of what the organization did and does still; then it was the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange and I distinctly remember at one point encouraging a peer of mine to audition but not really envisioning myself involved in such a process. After finishing my MFA, however, I decided to get to know the organization better and enrolled in their Summer Institute, a condensed amount of time in which participants work closely with the company learning about their collaborative process and tools and history while collectively making and sharing. I fell in love and almost immediately knew I had found a home, one in which I was enlivened and engaged in a way that I had been searching for.

While in graduate school, as I’m sure many can attest to, one must really be focused on the work that is happening. This is particularly important if the work you’re doing is challenging and valuable, as I think most work at the graduate level should be. For me, graduate school became everything. I felt challenged on all fronts and grew three dimensionally in a way that I had never before experienced and with such rapidity that at times it felt almost impossible to keep up. It was probably one of the most difficult and exciting points in my life. I cried a lot. I laughed a lot. And I learned more about myself and my craft than I could probably ever explain on paper. I lost a relationship, and at that point particularly, poured myself without abandon into my work. My dog Lucas served as my anchor at home and my friends and peers within my program kept me afloat. I don’t regret any of it, but as I exited that environment and found myself back in a world outside of academia I realized how disproportionate my life had become.

It was at this point that I began to want and need and work towards finding a way to compromise the distance I felt between my artistic self and my everyday self. I began to question the processes that I was engaged in, wondering why I was doing this work and of what value did it have for others besides myself. What good was I doing for anyone else but me? What did I value in both my art making and my life making that I could harness in a process and feel satisfied with? How could I participate in a rigorously full artistic process and a rigorously full life simultaneously? These questions felt important in lessening that gap. When I started my work with Dance Exchange at that Summer Institute, and subsequently on some residencies that I was invited to help facilitate, answers to some of these questions manifested themselves either in the work that was made or in the relationships that formed, and I have a feeling it has to do with the alignment of my values and the organizations’ values and in the way that this process and work asks me to bring my whole self regularly.

As I mentioned before, at Dance Exchange we believe that everyone’s story matters and that everyone can and is encouraged to dance. Because of this philosophy, and our constant questioning of who gets to dance, we are committed to making space for all to participate in the making of art; from trained professionals to unexpected movers and makers, criss crossing all disciplines and engaging any who are interested in questioning and creative research. It’s in this place of exchange of ideas and information that I feel my many selves, Matthew the artist/human, fully engaged and aware. It’s in this place, where 90 year old women and men move with teenagers and twenty something year olds as a way to know and relate, that I find resonance in what I do and how I do it. It’s in this place that I have found a bridge between my many selves and feel more able to work on lessening that gap between the artistic and everyday.

To take a more macroscopic view, I want to leave you with this. In my personal experience, and in talking with many, many peers, I have found that leading full artistic lives and full everyday lives to be sometimes difficult (one could also change the word ‘artistic’ to ‘any other career’). But both are important. An integral step in doing that is finding a process or group or company or school or ensemble that continually asks you to bring your whole self, your many beautiful selves, to the work. It’s in this exchange between your own ideas and interests and this exchange between you and others that richness can be found and that much can be learned. Sometimes this work is hard; that’s when the work can be the most rewarding and relevant. One of my former graduate professors once spoke of her ‘pedagogy of discomfort,’ a term that I have come to love. Although probably different in meaning, I have found that when situations or experiences seem to be uncomfortably hard or trying, it’s through the perseverance and working through those that has proved to be the most illuminating.

There’s something in here related to my previous posts about value and pausing, and in the combination of these 3 writings that I think speaks to carving out sustainable lifestyles as people that are committed to processes that might sometimes be difficult, especially in regards to an increasingly connected, fast-paced, and ever changing world. I hope that, wherever you’re at on this journey, you have found some nugget of something worthwhile in this and that applies to your story and story telling. It’s these stories that we carry and share that make our work worthwhile, that allow us to better our art and our lives, that allow us to gather as a community and work towards our individual and shared goals. It’s these individual small dances that we make which contribute to our collective big ideas.

* “Small Dances About Big Ideas” is a work by Liz Lerman and the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange which premiered in 2005. It is not at all related to the topics discussed above other than the connection of Dance Exchange.

Matthew Cumbie is a professional dance artist based in Washington, DC, and is currently a Resident Artist and the Education Coordinator for the Dance Exchange. As a company member with the Dance Exchange, he works with communities across the United States and abroad in collaborative art-making and creative research as a means to further develop our understanding of our selves and community in relation to the environment around us. He has also been a company member with Keith Thompson/danceTactics performance group, and has performed with Mark Dendy, the Von Howard Project, Sarah Gamblin, Jordan Fuchs, jhon stronks, Paloma McGregor, and Jill Sigman/thinkdance. His own work has been shown in New York, Texas, New Mexico, Louisiana, and at Harvard University. He has taught at Dance New Amsterdam, Texas Woman’s University, and Queensborough Community College. He holds an M.F.A. in dance from Texas Woman’s University.

MFA Monday: Matthew Cumbie

by Lydia MFA Mondays

“During the pause is the ideal time to listen…”

Time is a funny thing. When you want more of it, it doesn’t seem to exist. When you’re anticipating something coming or going, you really wish that time would fly by. At least that’s been my experience. You see, I’m a planner, as I’m sure many of us are. How can you not be when you’re a working artist? Between scheduling rehearsals, performances, application deadlines, auditions, teaching gigs, meals, and maybe (just maybe) some personal time- one sometimes has to be quite diligent about putting things down somewhere. I find that when I do put those things down, though, often my mind will wander away into future- or past-ness. In rehearsals this last week, in every down minute that I had I realized that I was thinking to the weeks ahead, going over schedules to make sure that I hadn’t missed anything or adding new things to a growing To Do list to accomplish who knows when. Even this morning over breakfast, I was trolling through photos on my phone, going over where I had been and what I had done and missing people, places, and specific times in my life. The funny thing about time and all of this, though, is that in missing or not missing things both past and present I am missing what’s happening right now. Right in front of my face. Literally. My dog is asleep on one of his beds under a side table (a favorite spot of his), my coffee grows cold, and a slightly overcast DC gets a bit sunnier outside.

As a mover and improviser, being present in the moment is something of a goal of mine. For me, being present means being aware and responsive to the temporal moment, tracking your internal choice making and external stimuli simultaneously. It’s of such interest that it even had an entire section of research devoted to it in my professional paper for my MFA. I bring this up because I realize how much of a slippery slope getting caught up in planning and reflecting can be, and how important it is to ground oneself in the now as much as we can. It is in these moments that I feel as if time expands and I can really do so much with what time I have, relieving stress and allowing me to appreciate what I have and what is presented to me.

Now how do we go about attuning ourselves to the now? Really I believe that this is a personal process, one that we develop with repetition and over time. In my practice, it’s about finding a pause or interruption. When improvising and moving from one score to another, a certain kind of momentum builds that is either physically manifested in the body or an internal momentum of choice making in which choices are made before they are fully realized, or both. As soon as I acknowledge that I’ve been riding this dizzying wave of momentum and that I might not be tracking or seeing certain possibilities, I quickly search for a pause or interruption so that I might re-engage in the now and gather a new sort of clarity. Applying this same process to our daily lives, as soon as I realize that I’m stressing about what is going to happen next week or when I’ll be able to take a day off, or if I’m reminiscing about the ‘good ol’ days’ and missing my friends from Texas terribly, I similarly try to find a way to pause or interrupt that process so that I can be more fully present in the moment.

In doing so, I’m better able to notice vibrant colors, textures, make connections that are more meaningful and authentic with others, and better appreciate myself and my potential (to name a few). I realize that maintaining this kind of perception, this responsive sense of seeing and experiencing, can be difficult. And all of this is not to say that we shouldn’t think ahead or look back, as both are wonderful reminders or where we’ve been and where we’re headed. But I firmly believe that if we take the time to pause or interrupt ourselves more frequently, that we’ll better be able to consciously craft our selves and track a more rich and meaningful path.

So for the sake of brevity, and to practice rather than preach, I’m going to bring this to a close. I don’t want to toil over what to write or whether or not this or that thing said will be a more relevant nugget of whatever; I want to cling to my belief that within each of us, our bodies and stories, lives wisdom that we all might draw upon and that by attuning to the temporal moment we might more readily access that. There is so much activity happening right now; the air is buzzing. Harness that energy and do something. In fact, if anything, I encourage you to always do something.

Go make something. Go see something. Go talk about something with someone. Find a way to disrupt your everyday so that you might appreciate the beauty and vitality of that moment.

Matthew Cumbie is a professional dance artist based in Washington, DC, and is currently a Resident Artist and the Education Coordinator for the Dance Exchange. As a company member with the Dance Exchange, he works with communities across the United States and abroad in collaborative art-making and creative research as a means to further develop our understanding of our selves and community in relation to the environment around us. He has also been a company member with Keith Thompson/danceTactics performance group, and has performed with Mark Dendy, the Von Howard Project, Sarah Gamblin, Jordan Fuchs, jhon stronks, Paloma McGregor, and Jill Sigman/thinkdance. His own work has been shown in New York, Texas, New Mexico, Louisiana, and at Harvard University. He has taught at Dance New Amsterdam, Texas Woman’s University, and Queensborough Community College. He holds an M.F.A. in dance from Texas Woman’s University.

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Category: MFA Mondays

MFA Monday: Megan Yankee

After the Master: The Post-Grad School Rut

MFA Monday: Erin Law

After the Master: Interview with Erin Law, M.F.A.

M: How are you using the knowledge and experiences you gained in grad school now (outside of work)?

M: Do you have a regular movement practice (even if it’s atypical)?

M: What was your focus in grad school?

M: How/did your employment status shift after grad school? What was the job search and application process like for your current position?

M: What is your opinion regarding the state of adjunct positions in the US?

M: How are you using the knowledge and experiences you gained in grad school in your current position?

M: Roughly how many times have you performed or presented your work since you graduated. How does this compare to the amount of times you did so during and before graduate school?

M: Is there a project you’re itching to get started on?

MFA Monday: Megan Yankee

MFA Monday: Rebekah Chappell

MFA Monday: Little and Big Things

MFA: Little and Big Things

MFA Monday: Amanda Diorio

MFA Monday: Observations

Please welcome back Amanda Diorio to MFA Monday on the Frame Dance Blog. Enjoy, dear Framers and have a happy Monday!