ABSTRACT
I am searching—searching through my handbag, through my desk, my bookshelf, my dictionary, my childhood memories — searching everywhere for words to describe the way movement phrases that I bring to rehearsal begin to change as soon as the rehearsal starts, how after several rehearsals the phrases have begotten phrases that bear only the slightest resemblance to them. I am searching for words to describe the feverish and futile, hilarious and hysterical efforts that the choreographer/director and dancer/interpreter, even when they are the same (divided) person, go through to retrieve the now forgotten phrase, but …
