ERIKA TSIMBROVSKY
Choreographic Prompts
Fall 2024 Open Studio:
In this space between theory and practice, I’ve discovered the value of solitude, the courage to trust what feels right in the moment, and the meaning of creating as a woman. Sometimes this happens in relational presence; other times, in the independence of being alone. Conversations with materials unfold through various manifestations: sound, movement, drawn and written marks, and remnants—traces of memories in my body, on paper, on canvas, on the walls, and across the studio floor.
This project moves through many iterations—each with a beginning and an end—yet remains fluid, never fully fixed, except in the fleeting moments of each ‘opening event.’ I call this ongoing, non-fixed research a/semic living diaries.
Solitary Round Dance is a Live Drawing on Canvas and in-Motion
a large-scale drawing
oil pastel and graphite on canvas on canvas 60" x 160"
layering with earth mindwindmindwind
During the 1 hour live drawing, I played with lines while contemplating landscape formation using moving lines across the canvas. I wanted to give the feeling of layering through the plane, sensing my body as a part of these moving layers. The central motif of this drawing session was a locomotive movement across the canvas and sensitive and affectional interactions and pauses that I perceive as being in detailed conversation, like whispering into the surface of the canvas through hands-sensitive touching connecting materials/tools/surface.
I drew the branches of the trees. I enjoyed the sound and the texture that came from the resistance of the pigment and graphite over the surface. I drew using both hands and paid attention to the relationship of the hands. I am interested in the somatic sensational transformations in the form of affected arms and body, as well as the transformations that lie on the canvas as in the drawing. These explorations are charged by challenges of the mirror movement disorder my body has. The disorder is not bothering me too much because it is inherent, and since I have had it from the moment of being conceived by my parents, I have learned how to live with it. Recently, my curiosity and dedication to embodied knowledge production have made me more attentive to somatic habits my body has when I trust my body to gain knowledge through art-making processes. It was curious to observe the ability of my arms to be together and apart in creative dance drawing.
During this session, I listened to Akira Rabelais's music.
Ants on The Wall with Pile of Twigs
The installation Ants on the Wall is part of my Choreography with Twigs series in the 'gray box' art studio, linked to my larger artistic research projects living diary that intertwined with horizontal experiences as written-out choreographic prompts.
The choreographic installation "Ants on the Wall" is a part of the larger constellation of twigs, paper, canvasses, and layers hanging from the ceiling plexiglass sheets and unfolds within the 'gray box' art studio, blurring the boundaries between painting, sculpture, and choreography. This piece is rooted in an interplay between the painted wall—a dense web of lines, paths, and asemic writing— and the pile of twigs carefully placed nearby.
While no literal dance takes place, the installation metaphorically choreographs elements across vertical and horizontal planes. The wall becomes a vertical stage for painted lines and paths, while the pile of twigs on the floor suggests potential movement and interaction—a readiness for manipulative gestures by the artist or audience. This dynamic transforms the space into a field of imaginative possibility, exploring the intersection of organic and architectural, dream-like and institutional. The work unpacks the relational tension between planes, evoking a 'choreographic gesture' that shifts our attention from the dominant vertical human vision to the often-overlooked horizontal plane.
Drawing on Crumpling Paper A4
Piles of Drawings on Crumpled A4 paper installation (a (choreo)-graphic interventions)
This installation was developed through the engagement with audiences during embodied drawing/writing workshops or through experiential scores I lead. It began with piles of crumpled A4 paper left over from my dancing-with-paper-wad scores. These scores have taken on different functions over time—sometimes as part of larger choreographic works, sometimes integrated into lecture-performances as “hands-on” demonstrations, or workshops exploring 3D diary-like writing through dance, art, and text. Paper has always been a staple in my creative and teaching process—a material that merges art, dance, and writing.
Paper as knowledge. Paper as a story—drawn or written.
A pile of paper can become a book if certain conditions and actions are met.
It connects me to the genealogy of paper: imagery that evokes trees, industrialization, printmaking, books, and the production of knowledge. There’s a complexity to the guilt of overuse—the extermination of trees for our needs. Our absurd ignorance when we extrapolate from nature to invent. And yet, beautiful characters emerge from horizontal and linear writing, from the fictional play that creates a virtual presence more believable than reality.
As I prepared for a recent embodied writing workshop, I reflected on this:
In the overwhelming digitalization, the materiality of ‘physical on paper’ feels increasingly threatened. Yet, so much happens when we connect to this material in unconventional ways. I write my thoughts and research on paper, letting it carry my ideas in its physicality—an anchor amidst the flux.
Another aspect implicitly present in the Drawing Crumpling Paper installation is the unseen labor of art-making: patterns of labor that often remain invisible. ‘Piles’ of short videos capture these patterns of repetitive, everyday art practices—the quiet devotion artists bring to their craft.
