If you live in Portland and you've somehow missed tEEth, you are running out of excuses. I should know -- until last night, I was guilty of never having seen a live performance by this remarkable group, despite the vivid and fervent recommendations of trusted friends and tabling next to the charming and talented directors at ArtSpark. If you haven't seen them yet, you'd be a fool to miss your last chance to do so tonight before they take the show to Seattle. And of course if you have, you don't need me to convince you.

There's no lack of quality writing on tEEth and this show has been as well-captured as something this transgressive can be. (For a straightforward description of the content of this show, I encourage you to read Oregon Live.) With that in mind, I'd like to focus on you tEEth virgins and those of you who think you are not interested in or know nothing about contemporary dance. As you know, we at Research Club don't give a damn about the separations between disciplines or styles, and we seek out anything that ruptures. So trust me when I say that even though tEEth is a deeply-arty, high-profile modern dance troupe, they have thought and sweat hard enough to create something compelling and challenging both as an accomplishment within the canon of modern dance and as a transgressive work of art relevent to anyone with a body and an active mind. If you are at all interested in the cultural output of Portland, you cannot overlook tEEth.

As a troupe, tEEth is burning the second-stage engine of its explosive rise, displaying  new power without losing momentum in the transition from a group to watch to a group to expect. (This is good news for latecomers, as they have clearly become comfortable with their peculiar physical language without losing any of its weirdness, making for a confidently brash performance rather than a showy and sensational one.) Beside the attention from Dance Magazine, their recent notoriety includes taking the $10,000 grand prize at the Joyce Theatre, being named best choreographer by Willamette Week, and, luckily for us, being commissioned by White Bird and On The Boards to create this new piece. Having seen it, I'm even more regretful than before that I missed their last major piece, Home Made. Learn from my mistakes! Get your tickets now.

What makes them so special? In short: tEEth choreographs with a focus on the mouth and all the power of intimacy and communication that passes through it. That alone puts the troupe in a risky realm occupied by few other performers, but they clearly have the discipline and talent to fully explore their style rather than relying on it as a gimmick. When you see even a little of what can be done when dancers are allowed to bite, gag, and mute each other in line with bodily choreography, one must admit that fear or squeamishness must be among the reasons that the mouth isn't more used in dance*. The capabilities of the rest of the body have been so well explored that there's little rational reason to ignore the possibilities that tEEth has pried open. 

This show is a particularly good portal to newcomers or outsiders for a few reasons. Superficially, it is a brisk 55 minutes, with uncomplicated costuming and simple props used well -- standard microphones endowed with abnormally long cables. The show is also surprisingly accessable for such a deliberately challenging piece. A few genuinely funny passages emerge from a broader sarcastic tone that dovetails with the surrounding intensity and intimacy in a way that is better seen than described, and the original score is, like the dancers, not afraid to be beautiful and aesthetically rich while it distorts and confronts. There are brief and unexpected flashes of nudity, and the plain way they emerge and recover is neither sensational nor furtive, demonstrating a comfort with exposure and intimacy. tEEth's exhibition of grace-among-transgression is perhaps the most thoughtful gift the show offers to its audience.

We throw around the terms "transgressive" or "challenging" when we talk about art, but usually when we are still a little comfortable. It is when we are truly distracted by our visceral reaction that we need to pay attention most. There are many moments which may repel the unprepared -- when the dancers have tied each others' heads together with cable, or are twitching and chattering into the microphones as they struggle against each other in a variety of sexually charged positions, or in a number of exchanges where the gasping and sweating are clearly real. Even if you are too shocked or confused, you would be an unfair observer to miss the thoroughness with which they have entangled these gut reactions with the concepts they affect. That entanglement is tEEth's most interesting rupture.  

Make/Believe tours the deep issues of miscommunication and speaking that run through all other contemporary disciplines, but this show does not separate communication from the bodies which attempt it. With communication between bodies comes sexuality, and tEEth dives into that as well. It is hard enough to approach the cerebral, the social, or the physical concepts involved here one at a time. With Make/Believe, tEEth tackles all three, which is rare and brave thing to do. Whatever your perspective, they are worth watching.

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* For context, they are literally off the choreographic map as far as one system of notation, Labanotation, is concerned. 

While there are signs for "facial features, including the inner parts of the mouth," at least this system lacks the language to score what tEEth does. Its classification of tEEth's area of focus reflects how otherwise overlooked the intimate parts of the face are in dance: "They are not joints nor limbs, nor do they fit cleanly into any other category of body part symbols. They are the parts of the head, and that may be enough of a category to satisfy our needs."

March 31, 10am EST.

More: http://www.tedxswarthmore.com/

http://www.reddit.com/r/askscience/comments/o16pl/when_light_travels_from_wat...

To you, these merely a lovely pale yellow, a gentle powder blue, and little palm trees. And really, that's enough. It's enough for them to work in this piece I'm putting together. It's exactly what a little whimsy like this needs.

To me though, these fabrics have enormous sentiment. They are: my childhood security blanket (yellow), my brother's childhood security blanket (blue), and the last little bits of one of the shirts Mom wore so much during that time in my life (the trees). My brother, my mother and me. All in this painting.

If you watch the Reading Rainbow episode with "The Patchwork Quilt" by Valerie Flournoy, you learn about how a REAL quilt is made, with fabric from people's lives. What always stuck with me was the ending, when a piece of the old quilt was put into the new quilt. Somehow this activates the new quilt to me -- it gives it that extra spark of needed life. It gives the new quilt a soul of its own.

It reminds me of other things made up of pieces of existing things. Making new plants from a cutting, or the seeds from last year's plants. Sourdough bread starters that are fed and kept alive rather than made from scratch. Fire lit from a burning stick pulled from someone else's fire. Lighting a whole room by touching one candle to another's flame. Somehow there's comfort in that reliance on what we already have. We took care of it so well that it is still around to give to others. And the more we give it away, the more of it there is.

If I keep using these dear pieces of fabric in paintings, they aren't going to be more, they will be less and less until they are gone. But on the other hand if I put them on canvas then they are out in the world instead of stuffed into the milk crate on the shelf, so in that way they continue living. Especially if I tell you this story. Then those colors up there are more than just a lovely pale yellow, a gentle powder blue, and little palm trees. They have weight and depth and soul all their own.

As time goes on I get more meaningful fabric (sleeves cut from a button up, those unmendable pajama pants, fabric we used to make the lunch bag) and use it alongside the older fabric. An overlap develops. The line between the fabric from before and the fabric from now blurs until everything I have to work with has value and meaning in an vibrant, pulsing way. And I pour that onto canvas and make pictures of things I love with things I love. And the feeling grows and grows and grows.

Since July, 2009, Research Club has built a community of thinkers, doers, artists, and enthusiasts with its salon-style gatherings, exhibitions, workshops, and classes. During this time, we've helped a few people get jobs, contracts, and internships. We've helped even more people realize art projects, gallery shows, and technical projects. We've fostered the growth of other organizations, facilitated countless collaborations, and toured the Pacific Northwest and Europe to research how other participatory communities function. We've done all of this on a shoestring budget, without advertising, usually without admission fees or outside funding, and with a tiny, transient staff. The community supports itself, and the recipe is cheap and reliable. At the same time, we can't keep going without your help.

Research Club is both a community and an organization, and the community is ready to benefit from a stronger organization. We have big things planned for 2012, but we can't do them without enthusiastic volunteers.

I want to help, but I can only help a little

That's great! There are a lot of small, regular tasks that we could really use someone reliable to take over. The most important thing is being able to commit to doing something, not how big that something is. Fill out this form to get involved. 

I want to help a lot!

Ready to roll up your sleeves? The following positions are currently open! Unless otherwise noted, each one is a 3-month commitment. (Meaning we'd rely on you to fill this role for the very-part-time number of hours listed for three months, after which you're free to move on or keep going for another 3 months.)

• Publications Committee
• Social/Communications Intern
• Co-Director

Read more for full descriptions

About the project:

TAM will be presenting two of my works: Pants Exchange, and Fake Up, at the 2012 NW Biennial from January 21st to May 20th.

I couldn't be more thrilled to be given this opportunity, but there is no budget to help make this dream a reality. Please help me do it!

Pants Exchange is an urban koan and the first project I ever did, long before I was told "psst, this is art."

Fake Up is an interactive salon, complete with a photographer and beautician, stocked with the same supplies used by incarcerated women to adorn themselves: coffee grounds, skittles, crystal lite, etc...

By supporting my Kickstarter campaign, you will help me to realize this long held dream, and support public art. Your contribution will enable me to pay for the staff, supplies, and travel expenses necessary for me to pull this off. I simply can't do it without you. In return, you will be entitled to treats and presents available only to my Kickstarter supporters, and will recive my undying gratitude.

Be part of it today!