This hybrid pro­po­sal con­sists of sha­ring with the audien­ce the chap­ter or research period tit­led “Entzu­ten nau­zu? Zeo­zer kon­ta­tu nahi nizu­ke… SAIAKERA GORPUZTU BAT” (Can you hear me? I’d like to tell you something… AN EMBODIED ESSAY), part of the broa­der pro­ject 40.  BIDEGURUTZEA | 40th CROSSROAD. It seeks to reveal and sha­re the jour­ney that is usually under­ta­ken alo­ne and that almost always remains invi­si­ble: one that encom­pas­ses what remains in the mar­gins, imper­fect attempts, and vul­ne­ra­ble embodiments.

In essen­ce, it is an effort to re-obser­ve, re-analy­ze, and re-unders­tand the cho­reo­graphic lan­gua­ge that Myriam has deve­lo­ped as a crea­tor, focu­sing on four ideas: What? How much? How? What for? A pro­cess for filling one­self with ques­tions and clothing one­self in uncer­tainty; an attempt at (self-)reconstruction through (self-)deconstruction.

An archaeo­lo­gi­cal-per­for­ma­ti­ve study of one’s own ways of making, fee­ling and thin­king. An attempt to trans­fer what has been tra­ced as a draft into the poe­tic spa­ce. It is the desi­re to give a sce­nic dimen­sion to crea­ti­ve pro­ces­ses —and to the pro­ces­ses of research and reflec­tion inhe­rent to them.

The­re is a need to digest what has been absor­bed from lite­ra­tu­re, phi­lo­sophy and con­tem­po­rary thought, sup­por­ted by what has been drawn from fellow artists wor­king across dif­fe­rent artis­tic dis­ci­pli­nes. The­re is a desi­re to put it into prac­ti­ce, through crafts­manship and art-as-care, here and now, and at a slow pace: to make and cul­ti­va­te “something else”. And the­re are the guts and reflec­tions of one’s own self, all tan­gled together. Everything spea­king to and lis­te­ning to one another.

An embo­died essay; a dan­ced (inner) lecture.

Three pre­ce­dents in Myriam’s work:

1. “HATXE (musi­cian Idoia Her­nan­dez) gave me a mic­ropho­ne as a gift. And now what?”

2. “I am diving through dif­fe­rent rea­dings, going dee­per and deeper…”

A con­tai­ner for ques­tions, an index and sup­port for words and forms of expres­sion, a map for broa­de­ning one’s pers­pec­ti­ve. A poe­tic resour­ce for arti­cu­la­ting, unders­tan­ding, deve­lo­ping and dee­pe­ning thought. A pool for reflec­tion: under­li­ning, rew­ri­ting, archi­ving… kee­ping the­se ideas in mind and pre­sent, like tat­toos made outsi­de the body.

The­se have been the theo­re­ti­cal foun­da­tion, gui­de­li­nes, and notes in NERI(H)ARI’s crea­ti­ve pro­ces­ses. They have also pro­vi­ded a handhold in the search for ans­wers to the ques­tions that have emer­ged along the way.

I keep diving through dif­fe­rent rea­dings, going dee­per and dee­per. Now, from time to time, I want to lift my head out and bring the reflec­tions I’ve gathe­red to the sur­fa­ce: to put them in order, to stitch them together, to read them aloud, to carry them into dif­fe­rent body posi­tions, to rew­ri­te them in space…

3. “Around the age of 45… what body, what dance?”

The rea­li­ties of bodily trans­for­ma­tion, dif­fe­rent forms of recon­ci­lia­tion, the impact of the cul­tu­ral and artis­tic indus­tries, and the geo­po­li­ti­cal situa­tion of recent years have beco­me entan­gled for me, and I expe­rien­ce them as inc­rea­singly weighty. Faced with all of this, what can I do? Whe­re do I go from here? How do I adapt?

Around the age of 45, I dream of beco­ming a writer…

ENTZUTEN NAUZU? CAN YOU HEAR ME? AN EMBODIED ESSAY

I want to set the thin­king, sen­si­ti­ve, and poli­ti­cal body into motion (into pas­sion) across dif­fe­rent actions and lands­ca­pes, and to rest on the various islands that make up NERI(H)ARI’s crea­ti­ve archipelago:

Island 0: “Wai­ting. Still and wai­ting… Like sto­nes and mountains.”

Island 1: “Do not era­se the body. Do not era­se the dance.”

Island 2: “Refe­ren­ces and con­nec­tions, like cons­te­lla­tions or compasses.”

Island 3: “A spa­ce for silen­ce, still­ness, and emptiness.”

Island 4: “Loo­king back/looking for­ward, seve­ral waves.”

Island 5: “BBBBB (beti bada bide berri bat / the­re is always a new path).”

ENTZUTEN NAUZU? CAN YOU HEAR ME? AN EMBODIED ESSAY is an attempt to lis­ten to and attend to the tran­si­tion bet­ween move­ment and thought as it unfolds, and to bring it into sen­si­ti­ve prac­ti­ce. A pro­cess within the pro­cess: a way of being through con­tem­po­rary dan­ce; a lis­te­ning to spe­ci­fic sounds; an inner sti­rring through lite­ra­tu­re; a desi­re to move clo­ser to the visual arts.

It is very much about empty spa­ces, and about being in emp­ti­ness. It is also about infi­ni­te lands­ca­pes of a sin­gle colour. With the body and the word as its main pillars, it is also the first bodily draft towards the wri­ting of an essay. A sin­gu­lar and ephe­me­ral staging.