Hello, magnificent ones.
Last night, we performed the second (and possibly, though hopefully not, the last) show of A Thousand Natural Shocks. We raced through the speediest tech rehearsal ever (45 minutes of stage time for a 55 minute piece... hit it and quit it, kids) and after a rush of blowing up balloons, putting together brooms, slapping on makeup, and trussing ourselves in silk, we stumbled out into Del's gorgeous light and dropped into the piece.
We have been working on this for over a year. It's a privilege and a luxury to have such a long time to develop something. So many things happen in a year, and this has been one of my favorites, a roller coaster, whiplash, neon slice of time. This project and the people who make it up--Shan, Kat, Carson, Josi, Kelvin, and Sarah--have been the very best comrades, companions, and fellow adventurers that I could ever wish for or imagine. Last night, I felt a little bit like I was on the inside of either the very best or very worst film montage ever, with every piece of choreography trailing fragments of the year behind it.
We've sent out some surveys to collect your information so we can get your backer rewards to you, and we'll be sending out some more as we print t-shirts, make books, write stories, and get the DVDs back from Austin Forbord, our great videographer.
We'll probably post more updates as we put those things together, and we'll let you know if anything else happens with A Thousand Natural Shocks (future performances or incarnations). If you want to keep up with future Sharp & Fine projects, please sign up for our mailing list HERE or drop us a line at sharpandfine[at]sharpandfine[dot]com. We've already been dreaming up two projects that we'd like to do in the next year. The first is a combination live music and dance show inspired by songs like THIS and THIS. The second is an evening-length dance adaptation of Neil Gaiman's poem, "Queen of Knives" (pick up a copy of Smoke and Mirrors to see why this is one of my favorite poems ever, indelibly lodged in the back of my brain since the first time I read it... love and loss and the inexplicable way those things look when seen from childhood... a magic show... vanishing...). We're not sure yet how these things will come together. They're still hazy, wispy bits of desire, but we're already so excited about them and eager to gallop off in pursuit.
And we'd like to thank you (again) for joining us on this adventure. It's always a wonderful and rewarding experience to make art and dance, but to do so with a crowd of people cheering us on and lavishing us with support and enthusiasm and hard-earned money... well, that is both an honor and an extraordinary, life-changing pleasure. We are humbled by your magnificence. Thank you.