I first saw Aszure Barton’s company at Jacob Pillow where she staged a dance that had one dancer biting another’s tongue for close to ten minutes. Droll. Painfully intimate. Brilliant. I had to meet her. It took a year of stalking Aszure, but finally she agreed to lunch.  She never took off her sunglasses and we became great friends. I wanted to be a fly on the wall and she insisted I direct.  I wanted to try shooting like the first dance I saw - and she made me the company photographer. I love Aszure. I love all the dancers. I was able to take pictures with them that were dreams - dreams I had in real time - dreams that came true.

At one of the first rehearsals for Aszure's spring '08 workshop, Aszure asked me if I was ready to direct. I was not. Felt like I didn't know enough to choreograph the choreographer. To get ready, I spent photographed afternoons at Baryshnikov's space on West 37th St photographing the rehearsals. Some days I shot everything out of focus, which showed the movement so much better than sharp pictures. One day I only shot hands. Finally on a day I had a photo studio rented near by, we all met and created this piece. All improv. All fun. I was ready to take charge - if only to release the company to play. It became a game trying to keep Aszure (in the red shirt) from getting to the right hand side of the frame.