Meet the Writers: Anna Drozdowski

Anna Drozdowski

What would your parents say about your work in the arts?
My mother has recently stopped asking me how my dance recital went.  Though she can’t explain what the heck I do, she taught me to do it with full commitment and a (mostly) full capacity to pay my rent.  A+ parenting.  I still mail her the newspaper when my name is in it.

Finish this sentence “Good dance…..”

Makes me sit at the edge of my seat, greedy for more.

Finish this sentence “Good writing…”
Makes me want to go slowly, to make it last.

What is the TD project really about, in your experience?

In a word:  understanding.   In a few more: challenging, asking, questioning, furrowing, laughing, growing, spell check and oxford commas.

Which part about TD is challenging, scary, difficult?

There is that funny little thing called responsibility–to the project, to our collaborators, to the artists, to the community, to the funders.  And to my personal voice and values.

How has TD affected your other dance-related work?

Live performance is a moment in time, caught only by those who were there and missed by most.  Writing often feels concrete: so final, so very fixed by comparison.  In many ways, TD has reinforced my appreciation of the real-time experience; both in the theater and in our monthly gatherings where the exchange of ideas is happening between living, breathing bodies.

How/when did you learn to type?
Age 15–with a cardboard shield over my fingers to prevent cheating and encourage a respectable 75 words-per-minute.   The teacher played pop songs and I rhythmically plunked out “O o O a A a U u U” while (unsuccessfully) trying to catch the eye of the soccer player at the next terminal.

What is your “desert-island” publication?

The book I’ve read more than any other is Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson.  It was as profoundly moving in the third grade as it is today.

If you were to write a dance love-letter, it would be to__________.

This question is confusing (and I drafted it!).   I don’t think that I’m asking myself to dance a love letter.   I also don’t think I’d recommend attempting that unless you’re in a movie from 1980 where all dance montages are forgiven.  Love Letter?  At the moment, I’m particularly enamored with super-tight, well rehearsed and unexpected unison.  Yep.  So simple.  So satisfying.  Only slightly embarrassing to admit, but you can’t help it.   Just like a love letter should be.

Share this article

Anna Drozdowski

Through Ladybird, Anna Drozdowski embarks on international projects in organizational development, mutual understanding and research–most often in dance. She is a staff writer, editor, and co-founder of thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

It would seem we need each other

Emilee Lord

The GREEF of Christina Gelsone at Baryshnikov Arts Center

Tissues are scattered all over the black box theater floor. Upstage a white wire waste paper basket sits upside down and empty. On a huge pile of tissues lies a woman in black with yellow crocs, yellow sleeves sticking out of her coat, a yellow scarf and white and yellow pompom knit hat. She stares up at the ceiling. She has a pair of red crocs on her chest.
Photo: Maria Baranova

When Tradition Takes the Stage, I Stop to Watch

Ziying Cui

Two Chinese dance dramas make me reconsider what I call “my culture.”

Five dancers in Awakening Lion hold ornate lion heads against a dark stage. White, blue, gold, and red heads form an arc above a black lion head held by one of the story’s heroes (a lion dance champion) in a deep side lunge at the front. The performers wear layered, earth-toned tunics with wrapped forearms and lower legs.
Photo: Guangdong Song and Dance Theatre