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SALT and ensemble development. Original compostion by ensemble.  

 9.    A movement. Footage of ensemble exploration. 2018



 8. A video. Exploration on moments, ideas, movement and location.

With our new toy - trixie 360.  2018


Ensemble members sitting on a rock

1. An Ensemble. 




7. A Song. Exploration of mode and scales. 2018


A photo

6. A Photo.

Past work. Danielle. 2013-2018


Ovid- Echo was a beautiful nymph who protected Zeus from Hera’s anger. In
return, Hera cursed Echo so she was only able to repeat the last words spoken to
Longus (Daphnis and Chloe) Echo’s mother was a nymph, but she had a mortal
father and Echo was not a nymph herself. She was raised amongst nymphs, and
the Muses taught her singing and musical instruments. Pan grew angry, enraged
by her musical virtuosity and her modesty, and he drove the men of the fields
mad. They ripped Echo apart, and scattered the still singing shreds of her body
across the earth. Gaia hid the shreds of Echo in the earth, and she still sings back
when others sing to her.


Female voices on the radio
Women on the radio- 99% invisible has set up a specific folder and autoreply for
complaints about women’s voices
Vocal fry- lowering voice and making it gravelly for emphasis
Women also criticised for upspeak- raising your voice at the end of statements-
‘valley girl’ speech, mocked
So women are criticised for raising their voices and for lowering them- the
implication being that any tool that helps a women emphasise and make a point
is an unpleasant sound- women should be uninteresting and easy to ignore
Men do vocal fry all the time!
Female assistant voices
Viv, Siri, Alexa- all digital assistants with female names and feminine voices
Why are these digital assistants all still female?
Codes a connection between feminine voices and names and subservience
Her- assistant is female
Sandra- podcast- the ai assistant is called Sandra
Watson- used on quiz show jeopardy and works alongside cancer researches- is
a male voice and name- more definitive, shorter sentences
Enlightenment salons
Run by women, but not places where women spoke or shared work



It’s a superstition among sailors that having women on board a ship is bad luck 

Whenever ships were hit by a big storm, sailors would throw women overboard to increase their chances of survival

As the women sank below the waves, perhaps the mermaids who preyed on sailors saw them sinking

And took them in their arms

And breathed salt water into their lungs

Held them up as their legs fused together and scaled over

Stroked their hair and wiped their eyes as they opened

And saw the girls around them


water burns our throats

where we have swallowed our tongues

which were writhing sharp edged things

that fought on the way down

our mouths are tired and weary

jaw locking

teeth ground to the gum pink and empty and bleeding

from keeping all the mess making noise in

The age of start and End.

It’s a wait,

Or a ticking time bomb.

Its patience.

You long and seek,

becoming thirst.

To chase the clock and be 


A whole eighteen years around the sun.


And you believe you’re out.

Released, to finally migrate from nest.

The nest that was mended, layered, broken through, and healed again

And again.


Strict, hesitant and protective was

My father.

And I expected more

Stricter, more hesitant, more protective.

Cold smack in the face.

Need: Information, fact, word.

I had to be a silver platter of purity.

The age of time was reversed

And I was a child. 


Restriction upon restriction

And I refused.

Age came with rights,

So I chose,

And naturally it was politics.


From what hangs within the stars

He entered my story,

And so, entered consequences naturally


Love is the compass,

And all there was time.

But love gave me freedom, time and myself.

And I am forever disorient with my own flesh and blood.

They can be avoided

But ultimately you will ache.

And as much as you wish not,

You will care.

Growing up


Salty water poured out of your nose
and you coughed and crawled and
heaved and you’re dragging yourself out of the sea.
And you’re sick, sick, sick
But you’re better off I think
Things are getting clearer
And your arms are less tired than they were before.
Lifted by strings,
They sprinkle a salt circle around your vessel.
Around your cold, cracked flesh.
Rub it into your wounds.
It’ll hurt, you’ll be clean.
Most importantly you’ll be safe.

It may seem strange to protect yourself with an element of what you chose to do yourself harm.
But pain is worth nothing if you do not learn from it
and if you do not decide to let it settle inside you and accept that it lingers.
That salt lines all of your guts.
Each of your organs.

Flakes and crystals will sprinkle out from time to time
When you cough or when you speak.
And if they ask tell them that you went into the sea,
That it swallowed you whole,
That you forgot how to see.
Tell them it left the salt behind when it poured out.
Of your nose.
Then cough again.

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