The clock ticks. This is the first year of HATCH's second decade, the programme's 11th year. 11 is special. 11's the first time you write your age in #'s – who's got time for eleven? Suddenly, it’s time. Time to make yourself or, rather, to feel your way toward some identity separate from the parent organism system. Inevitably this feeling-toward results in breaches of discipline. And it’s these transgressions that HATCH 11 aims to reward: undisciplined performance.
Undisciplined performance recognizes its traditional formal boundaries as just that. As traditions. Not the future and hardly the present. Likewise, undisciplined performance refuses to meet the reasonable demands placed on performance, theatre and dance: that it translate thinking into an image of thinking; that it activate an inert space; that it begin a conversation.
Against the pressures of this orthodox thinking, the undisciplined artists in HATCH 11 are trying to stay on their feet. They enter battle with some heavyweight personifications of their respective traditions: Kleist, Nijinsky and Professional Sports. Maybe they’ll fail. But that's not the point. The point is: staying on your feet.
What does it mean to stay on your feet? It means feeling what you’re standing on – the system(s) you're in – and auditioning the notion of thought-action in contact with this surface. Thought-action requires faith in performance – faith that taking positions and working through problems in real time might be a way to form new or revive old tools for the making-visible. If HATCH should continue to exist, it should support this faith.
Staying on your feet also means (re)finding them, so HATCH 11 is inaugurating a new component with the final week of the programme being offered to artists entering new collaborations who need time and space, not to rehearse or devise performance, but to consider their working principles and the structure and dynamics of their collaboration. HATCH 11 is trying to undiscipline itself too.
Oh, and yes, all of this has been done before, but it's worth doing again. Because it hasn't been done here, and not by these people, and not with you. If you don't make space for this with then you will know nothing about it. We work under the clock of your eyes.