Dancers,

First of all, I’m sorry that my rehearsals are so early.

I’m sorry I ruin all of your Friday nights because I force you not only to be functional humans, but to be the absolute best versions of yourselves by 10 a.m. on a Saturday. It’s rough, but know that I appreciate the fact that you show up, ready to work, more than you will ever know. You all are the reason I’m in front of the studio a half an hour before the building opens, coffee in my hand, ready to go. I’m always itching to get started because I know you’ll all be there to greet me; Saturday mornings are the most excited I feel all week.

I’m sorry for what I put your bodies and your brains through. My warm-up, when I even give you one, tends to be brutal. The choreography is fast, the phrases are similar but not exactly the same, and the whole thing goes against the music. I’m impressed when you figure it out; I’m even more impressed when you stop me, and let me know whether or not this step is actually within the realm of possibility. I feel bad when I’m sore in the morning because I know you feel it ten times worse. Through it all, thanks for keeping up with me. Thank you for reminding me to slow down and giving me permission to charge ahead. Thank you for finishing my sentences when you can, and for asking what I mean when you can’t. Thank you for being open, inquisitive, receptive, and constantly ready to absorb. It makes my work so much easier.

I’m sorry I yell at you so much. I’m not angry, just loud with a list of things to do. Know it comes from a place of love.

Thank you for your dedication, not only in constantly showing up to rehearsals but helping plan costumes, props, ideas, scores. For sitting through countless dress rehearsals, staging, and tech. For doing the dance again and again and again and again, even when you’ve already done it six times. For never complaining, even when you probably could.

But through all of it, most importantly: thank you for taking this journey with me, for allowing yourselves to be both my tools and my muses, for taking each and every thought I have in my head and breathing life into it. You are the beautiful things that keep me going. Know, that in every sense of the word, literal, metaphorical, figurative, metaphysical, whatever: I couldn’t do this without you.

Love,

Your Choreographer