It’s official. I am taking a leave of absence from the hoop troupe. Hard to come to this decision… grueling to announce it to the girls, which I did about two weeks ago, and now rough to put it out here. Formalize it.
You want to know why. Contributing factors are emotional and logistical, she says in a robot voice, any anguish squashed out of it.
The latter’s easy to talk about, the logistics: one month ago I moved to the other side of the Bay. I don’t have a car, and getting to the studio where the Allstars rehearse via public transit is a multiple-hour endeavor. About the time I moved, the final phase of my current book project got underway, and I’m working nearly around the clock to finish by mid-November.
But also. I’m contemplating whether I’m really cut out for performing. Or performing as part of a troupe that has a.. brand? The Allstars are all about projecting joy, emitting light, beaming smiles. As my style has developed (I celebrated my second anniversary hooping—quietly—back at the end of August), I feel like the qualities that have emerged are more along the lines of… intense, maybe sultry, and maybe with a certain… brainy-ness to my combinations.
I find it difficult to turn it on the moment I step onto the stage, and to focus on making the audience feel good. Instead, I like immersing myself in the connection with my hoop. Gradually deepening the trance. You’re welcome to watch me, but I’m not going to play to you, not at first. Once I’m really one with my hoop and the music, in what Baxter of the Hoop Path would call pe*a*ce (I think), I will look up, acknowledge your gaze, flirt, and then scamper back and forth across the line between introversion and extroversion.
I guess I’m an exhibitionist of (with?) my intimacy with the hoop—but ultimately, I hoop for me. Not for anyone watching.
And over time, as this realization about my relationship to hooperforming has clarified, being part of the troupe has often made me feel bad about myself. I feel like I’m not meeting expectations. I’m not doing it right. I’m not on message. This isn’t because of anything the girls have said or not said… mostly not, anyway… but because of me.
Now, when I have a spare moment to contemplate it (which is pretty rare), I wrestle with the question: am I not a performer, then? Isn’t it all about being able to turn on immediately, and please the audience? Is it? Isn’t it? Does it matter? Am I letting my insecurities reign and creating an elaborate intellectualized excuse for it, as my runaway freight train of a brain sometimes does? Am I just lazy, unwilling to overcome what performers must work to overcome, stagefright and all that?
I dunno. I hoop. I like it when you watch. Just so long as you don’t have expectations.
But lordie, do I miss those girls.
3 comments
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October 25, 2008 at 21:36
Greer
Ahh my gorgeous friend … you know, I LOVE to play games (board games, tennis, guessing games, silly drinking games …whatever) but the minute they get competitive all the fun is drained out of it for me unless its completely silly competitiveness that isn’t really competitive at all. I think performing is much the same. While you are working as a group you are also sort of in a competition by means of having people watch you (including your awesome hooping sisters) and expecting something of you … to exceed, to excel to be better or be bested. Its intimidating for most people and most people can’t do it. I’m in awe that you CAN do it if you want to. I can’t do much with the hoop but I do know that other than my silly impromptu stage debut with Christine Lavin where NOTHING was expected of me (and I didn’t do much), I would otherwise never really be able to hoop in front of a large group. Its hard enough for me to do in front of my closest friends, and I think if you do it for you that’s the absolute best reason of all. If your girls are really your girls they’ll miss you, but if they have the same relationship with their hoop as you do they’ll also understand. If they have a different relationship with their hoops then that’s equally awesome but then it probably just wasn’t meant to be …. BUT having said all that, is it wrong that I still love to watch you ???
October 26, 2008 at 02:01
Christabel
Ah sweetie… we miss you and welcome you if you ever feel compelled to come back! Know that no one expects you to be anything other than who you are — geeky sultriness and all! While the HoopGirl Allstars are committed to spreading joy, as a mission, performance is about being able to step into *all* personas and transmit an energetic to an audience. It can be fierce, seductive, voracious or sweet… as long as it is backed by intent.
When I trick out during my personal practice into super nerdy combinations, that is the sh*t to me that matters the most… but when (I rarely) get on stage now, it is in service instead of personal indulgence. It’s a whole different kinda practice… one is about going in and one is about dishing it out — you CAN do both and keep all your own favorite spices and flavors! But only you know when the timing is right…
xo
Christabel
November 24, 2008 at 20:58
Rich
“I find it difficult to turn it on the moment I step onto the stage, and to focus on making the audience feel good. Instead, I like immersing myself in the connection with my hoop. Gradually deepening the trance. You’re welcome to watch me, but I’m not going to play to you, not at first. Once I’m really one with my hoop and the music, in what Baxter of the Hoop Path would call pe*a*ce (I think), I will look up, acknowledge your gaze, flirt, and then scamper back and forth across the line between introversion and extroversion.”
This really resonates with me. I have constant inner battle over whether I enjoy performing or not. I don’t appreciate the burden of being responsible for the experience of someone who is watching me. I think performing entails that responsibility. If someone would like to watch, then they are welcome. If they appreciate what I’m doing, I might even play it up a bit but I can’t turn it on like a switch because I’m performing.