good times never seemed

A durational performance installation by Sarah Gordon and Vasiliki Stasinaki

Commissioned by Maiden Voyage Dance

Running around in circles on the terrace holding a big white flag. Trying to skateboard. Jumping into a puddle. A jar falling down the stairs. Getting trapped inside bubble wrap.

Experiments in collaboration.

Devised and performed: Vasiliki Stasinaki, Sarah Gordon

Set and costume design: Vasiliki Stasinaki, Sarah Gordon

Video: Damian McCann

Photography: Trevor Wilson

Technical support and stage manager: Trevor Wilson

Text by Sarah Gordon

This show is about collaboration.

We’ve been friends for 6 years. I’m a writer. Vas is a classically trained dancer and artist. We’ve always liked each other’s work – similar threads of humour, similar areas of interest. We were commissioned by Maiden Voyage Dance (through a project that paired dancers with other artists) to make “something with the moving body at its heart.”

We wanted to make something fun that explores the gap between our disciplines – a writer who makes up silly characters, struggling to dance; and a classically trained dancer reduced to a silly character – the gap between the ‘amateur’ and the ‘professional’. The word professional legitimises but invites ridicule if it’s a bit rubbish. The word amateur can be a criticism but if you get ahead of it you can use it to retreat to a position of safety.

I feel a bit silly dancing. Except at weddings – everybody dances and it’s ok if you aren’t very good. People who wouldn’t normally consider moving their bodies – ties round heads, shoes off, Sweet Caroline. We learnt some easy* dances from YouTube tutorials. We chose dances that permeate everyday culture through shared experience – social dancing, exercise classes, school plays, birthday parties, classic film. Dances that negate formality or expectation. We danced for the fun of it rather than worrying about an end product.

There is a lo-fi aesthetic to these YouTube tutorials, particularly the rooms they are often filmed in. We talked a lot about these shared spaces and multi-functional halls – their familiarity, their cultural and social value. ‘Professional’ spaces lend legitimacy and authority but can be hard to access. Other spaces are taken for granted but you have to work harder to legitimise them with lights and nice costumes and maybe a curtain to hide the stage manager. We loved the world-building of Jacques Tati films and the performances of Belgian artist Francis Alÿs. Both blur the line between abstract (often tragic) storytelling and physical comedy. We worked instinctively. We designed a set. We had fun.

Then I had a baby. And on the other side of Europe Vas’ Mum became really ill. And it became difficult to justify making time for ‘fun’. When things get complicated and difficult ‘fun’ no longer feels like a priority. We struggled to turn up. We cancelled days. We were pulled in other directions. When we did work it was joyful. But that came with its own guilt. It can be hard to shake the feeling that you should be somewhere else. That you should be doing something serious.

So it became about justifying the ‘fun’ through endurance. The fun turned into an exhausting 5-hour physical labour. A looped sequence of performances which are about effort and stamina and getting through it together. This project became about making time for each other. Prioritising collaboration. Being together. Sharing something.

We joked that it was our therapy – the shared labour a reminder that collective experience is serious and worthwhile and important and makes you feel better. We fed that back into the work, and it gave it an entirely new resonance. Good times never seemed so good 

*hard