Sean Rosado
Sean Rosado (he/they) is a Texas native and a graduate of Cornish College of the Arts, Sean Rosado received his BFA in Dance in 2015. He has been privileged to perform the choreography of Alex Ketley, Andrea Miller, Crystal Pite, David Harvey, Kate Wallich, Kate Weare, Madboots Dance and William Forsythe. He has also had the opportunity to perform with Ashani Dances, Chamber Dance Company, Gallim, HIVEWILD, and Kate Wallich + The YC2.
About the Work
Moon Pink is a short dance film telling the story of abandoning the essence of an existence to begin reconstructing a life - inspired by a short poem written by Sean Rosado about the forgetful death of innocence. This past year was quite trying for many of us and it brought up many questions about how we are choosing to continue into this new chapter of our lives as well as what is no longer serving us in our growth. While in quarantine this past year, I really used the time to reconnect with ideas I may have long forgotten or things that used to spark joy in the past. During that process I felt the need to abandon everything I ever thought I knew about myself to begin reconstructing and understanding my life and how everything would fit into it, thus leading to the writing of the untitled poem. In the the film, it is a solo performed and choreographed by Sean Rosado featuring repetitive physical gestural movements as well as moments taken from a previous work-in-progress titled ‘kill the homecoming queen’ as it is felt that they are sister works; this will be shot in both a city setting and a beach. Moon Pink uses the ideas of release, abandon, and reset as central textures from which the movement is based, especially later in the film in which the waves of water will dictate the tempo for the movement. There is a tonal shift between the two settings that is seen once we pass the climax while maintaining an eerie feeling that something may have been missed. Moon Pink is a part of a series of solo works called Faux Porcelain, which follows the discovery of my identity and figuring out how I feel I fit into the community at large.
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the damsel died in the tower last night
she was murdered without remorse
no hints were left as to who did it
the teller of a porcelain life’s hands were stained
he knew not why
only a hazy feeling that he cannot recall
something in the air decades ago
a tightness in the lungs?
a squeeze with every heartbeat that tightens until it bursts?
he could not recall
the teller continues to tell the broken life of a porcelain doll
