by Andrea Thompson
On Friday, June 6, I had the unique pleasure of performing a work’s world premiere and closing show within a nine-hour span. These were vastly different experiences — and that was the point.
For the past two months, my fellow Hubbard Street 2 dancers and I had been knee-deep in creation, collaborating with the Citizen Musician Fellows of the Civic Orchestra of Chicago. The focus was “In C,” a piece by composer Terry Riley that celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. It’s an unusual work to learn, requiring both its sheet music and a set of instructions for playing — and I mean “play” quite literally. Its structure is improvisatory in nature: Each musician is allowed to play the 53 musical phrases or “cells” of “In C” as many times as he or she pleases, dropping out and reentering the score at will. Riley’s instructions contain goals and guidelines, but outside of these each musician has freedom to decide in the moment what and when to play.
In the spirit of game-playing, listening, and the ephemeral nature of performance, we created — with the help of choreographer and Hubbard Street 2 director Terence Marling — our own approach to this ever-changing music. From early on, we knew we would perform an outdoor show to a recording of “In C” prior to an evening show accompanied live by the Citizen Musician Fellows.
In other words: One show would have a predetermined length, while the other could last anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes. Gulp.
We embarked on our choreographic journey by studying the cells, picking out landmarks we could identify regardless of how the score was interpreted. Cells of whole notes became our best, most recognizable friends. After familiarizing ourselves with the score, we had to figure out what the nature of our choreographic content would be. Games and improvisation seemed a natural fit given the structure of this music, so we set to work brainstorming new and favorite improv tasks, sharing visual images we wanted to achieve, and developing movement phrases inspired by the music.
Sequencing all that material was like putting a puzzle together. Certain ideas fell naturally in line with specific cells and became markers — assuming we’d be able to hear them in live performance — and then it was a matter of filling in the blanks with tasks that linked together logically. Like the musicians, we could stretch ideas out longer to challenge each other, or speed through them when it felt right. We developed a long string of cues and signals to indicate to each other when it was time to progress. We ended up with around 43 tasks, which spanned Riley’s 53 cells as a kind of roadmap. Our director Terry used a giant chronometer to denote each change of cell he heard in the music, so we would always know approximately where we were.
Of course, with our piece tied to spontaneity, every time we practiced our structure we landed somewhat differently on the recorded music. Terry rehearsed us to several different recordings of the piece in the week leading up to our shows, so that we wouldn’t be thrown off by unpredictable variations in the live music. And although we rehearsed a few times at Symphony Center’s Buntrock Hall with the musicians as well as every day in our West Loop studios, taking our piece outside meant encountering a whole new set of elements we could do nothing to prepare for indoors.
Our debut of “In C” kicked off the inaugural Living Loop Festival (produced by Chicago Loop Alliance and High Concept Laboratories). It was a gorgeous morning downtown when we arrived, with blue skies and warm temperatures. Our stage was in the shade at first, but by noon the sun was beaming down, warming our bodies and our marley as we adjusted to all the sights and sounds around Federal Plaza. Some people sat with their lunches just a few feet away from us, while others stayed further back and watched from a distance. Many stopped to catch just a few minutes of the piece; I even saw people across the street stopping to take in the scene.
All the outdoor elements lent themselves beautifully to the nature of the music and the choreographic structure we created to it. “In C” is about paying attention to your surroundings, and deciding to either counter them or let them inform you. Each spectator of our performance became a part of “In C” as they strolled by. The dancers tuned into each other, the music, the clock — and simultaneously took cues from passersby, the Alexander Calder sculpture sharing our plaza, buildings, and the perfectly blue sky above. All told, the performance was an exhilarating experience I won’t soon forget.
The evening performance was an equally memorable, though entirely different occasion. Buntrock Hall was set with a marley in the center of the space, while audience seating and musicians surrounded it on all sides. The piece began with a xylophone — the only constant element involved — setting the tempo, after which the musicians walked to their places and one by one, began playing the first cell. A few seconds later we followed to the edges of the space to enter one at a time as well.
Musician and dancer alike shared a palpable sense of anticipation. Everyone was open to informing and being informed by what we heard and saw — the backbone and the beauty of our collaboration — and I could sense that cooperative atmosphere as soon as I entered the room. Though we’d rehearsed together before, I was never more cognizant of the musicians’ eyes than during the show. In performance I was acutely aware that how I danced could have an impact on the upright bass, or the trumpet, or the viola — which could in turn affect how other musicians made their sounds. The unpredictable nature of “In C” became even more exciting knowing that I was part dancer, part listener and part co-conductor. Performing the piece with brilliant, enthusiastic live musicians brought it to life in a way completely different from performing outside earlier that day, yet equally fascinating.
It’s hard to believe the project we spent nearly two months on is now over, but the experience has certainly impacted me for the long term. Every member of HS2 contributed to the creation of our structure in a significant way, and I think we all came to realize the value of “just throwing ideas out there.” As a group, we tried every single proposal and held each other to refining what was unclear. We tried to create a work true to Terry Riley’s musical guidelines and appropriate to the playful, unpredictable nature of his piece. I think we not only succeeded in that, but also succeeded in opening ourselves up to new possibilities of how to choreograph, how to work together and how to collaborate with artists of other genres. Our “In C” may be over, but it has left an eternal eighth note–playing xylophone in my head and with it, an eagerness to enter the next cell.
Andrea Thompson enters her second year with Hubbard Street 2 at the start of the company’s 2014–15 season. During Hubbard Street’s satellite Summer Intensive Program at the University of Iowa, Thompson will teach ballet technique and HS2 repertoire to pre-professional dancers ages 14–17 from across the country. For a complete HS2 touring schedule, artist profiles and more, visit hubbardstreetdance.com.
Contributor Andrea Thompson (Maplewood, NJ) trained at the New Jersey School of Ballet, American Ballet Theatre’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School and the Ailey School in New York City. Thompson has also studied at the Juilliard School, Northwest Professional Dance Project, Springboard Danse Montréal, Nederlands Dans Theater and Batsheva Dance Company, which brought opportunities to perform choreography by Gregory Dolbashian, William Forsythe, Natalia Horecna, Jessica Lang, Marina Mascarell, Idan Sharabi, Robyn Mineko Williams, Paul Lightfoot and Sol León. At the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance, under the direction of Summer Lee Rhatigan, she trained with and performed works by Christian Burns, Alex Ketley, Thomas McManus, Robert Moses, Ohad Naharin, Alessio Silvestrin and Bobbi Jene Smith. Thompson joined Hubbard Street 2 in August 2013, following work in San Francisco and New York with Zhukov Dance Theatre, Chang Yong Sung, LoudHoundMovement, Backwoods Dance Project and the Foundry.
by Katie Sopoci Drake
Oh! What to do when you’ve been hired to set a piece on a company, school, department, etc. and when you show up, BAM! It hits you like a ton of bricks. You realize, “These dancers are going to F. A. I. L. if I proceed as planned with my choreography.” Whatever the reason (too little technique, the wrong technique, stubborn, etc.) you cannot allow this to happen because it is your job as choreographer to…
- Make your dancers look good. Which will, in turn…
- Make your choreography look good. Which will ensure that you…
- Make your self look good by making the whole process a success. Because you want to be called again to set more work. Perhaps this time for a piece that is more appropriate for the dancers.
It’s a sticky situation that is mostly avoided by directors doing their homework about a choreographer and choreographers doing their homework about companies/schools/etc. But let’s be real; sometimes directors just need someone to fill the spot and sometimes you just need to get a choreography gig. I know all of this too well because, baby, sometimes Momma just needs a new pair of shoes… or to pay the utility bill. How do we turn this around? Here are a couple of lessons I’ve learned from all sorts of gooey, hot, messes:
It’s time to Pivot when: the dancers are trained in a completely different technique from yours and there is no time to teach them enough of the one you’re using in your piece. Yes, “Pivot” is horrible business jargon, but it’s also a fabulous dance move that we all can relate to. To pivot is to efficiently turn in a new direction, which is what you’re going to have to do, and quick, if you’re going to finish the dance in the limited number of rehearsals given. Think, “Is there a way to use their technique to accomplish my dance?”, “Is there another piece in my repertory that might suit them better?”, or, “Is there a more suitable piece in my repertory that I can pull material from to patch rough spots in this one?”. You’ll have to have a conversation with the director about what you’re seeing in the studio and how to proceed.
Going back to the origin of the movement is essential if you decide to forge ahead with the current piece. You’re going to need to adapt it to the dancers in front of you and reacquainting yourself with the roots of your dance is going to help you do it. If your piece has long lines, but the dancers do not, think about why you put those long lines there in the first place. Was it an architectural choice? Was it an emotional choice? Was it about the strengths of the original dancers? Work from the origins of the movement to find an adaptation that will be successful on the dancers you have in front of you.
When I recently reset a piece on a new dancer, I went back to the root of why the phrase/gesture/movement showed up in the first place. One of the repeating motifs was a twisted and tilted arabesque that elongated to create tension, but I knew that wouldn’t work for this soloist. I told the dancer that I needed something that stretched from two ends until it about snapped. Then I sat back and watched her work it out on her body until the new movement jumped out at me within a minute. I said, “that’s it!” and we were free to move on to the next puzzle. No muss, no fuss. Dancers are quick thinkers when you give them freedom to work it out on their own bodies. The part looks completely different now, but as long as the dancer is accomplishing the goal of the movement, that is a sign of success in my book.
Get Help! If the current piece is unsalvageable, you have the time to build something new, but are hitting a wall with the dancers, then in the words of Doris Humphrey, “Listen to qualified advice; don’t be arrogant.” Pull in the director and peers to look at the stages of the dance. Work that hasn’t had time to be performance-tested needs another eye and the dancers are often more willing to try something new if they know the director is involved in the process.
Lastly, Work with what you’re given. Trust in your own ability to create a compelling structure, and only build phrases with material that looks strong on the dancers. Whether you’re someone who has the dancers create the phrases, or if you create each phrase and feed it to the dancers, trust your instincts. You will see what is working and what is not. Be honest with yourself and cut out what is not being accomplished to your highest standards and, above all, “kill your darlings”. Just because you loved it in your previous pieces doesn’t mean it works this time. In the end, this usually means that you are working with less material, but there are plenty of masterworks in every genre that are startling arrangements of simple movements. Repetition will be your friend here.
Now, get out there and make those dancers look fabulous!
Contributor Katie C. Sopoci Drake, MFA, GL-CMA, is a Washington D.C. based professional dancer, choreographer and teacher specializing in Laban-based contemporary dance. Holding an MFA in Dance from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, a Graduate Certification in Laban Movement Analysis from Columbia College – Chicago, and a BA in Theatre/Dance with a minor in Vocal Performance from Luther College, Sopoci Drake continues to take classes in as many techniques and practices as she can handle to inform her work and life as a curious mover.
Katie has been on faculty at The University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Nova Southeastern University, Miami Dade College-Wolfson, Miami Dade College-Kendall, Carthage College, and Lawrence University. She currently guest teaches and gives masterclasses around the D.C. area and wherever her travels take her.
As a performer, Sopoci is described as a “sinuous, animal presence of great power; watching her dance is a visceral experience.” (Third Coast Digest). Company credits include Mordine and Company Dance Theater of Chicago, Momentum Dance Company of Miami, Wild Space Dance Company of Milwaukee, and Rosy Simas Danse of Minneapolis. Katie has also made appearances an an independent artist with many companies including Brazz Dance, Your Mother Dances, The Florentine Opera, and The Minnesota Opera.
Katie’s choreography, described as “a beautiful marriage between choreography, music and poetry” (On Milwaukee), arises from her fascination with the idiosyncrasies of daily life, and the flights of fancy that arise from ordinary inspirations. Her work has been performed by numerous companies, colleges and studios across the country and her latest collaboration, Telephone Dance Project, will take her to states up and down the East Coast while investigating long-distance creation and connecting far-flung dance communities.
by Lizzie Leopold
Ask five people to define dance and you’ll probably get five different answers. Each dancemaker has a personal opinion (or opinions) about how to make steps, what those steps should look like, who should perform those steps, where those steps should be performed, and so on. And there are even those choreographers (Paul Taylor, most famously) who would tell you that you don’t need any steps at all; stillness is dancing too. So then, I’m back at the beginning. What is dance?
One of the common grounds that I keep returning to when trying to tackle this impossible question is audience. All of the disparate genres, venues, styles, and approaches share the act of watching. Sometimes the audience is also the dancer, starring back at herself in the mirror as she simultaneously moves and monitors. Sometimes the audience is 4,000 deep in an opera house. Of course there are exceptions (the private pajama-clad, living room jam session for one); but for this dancemaker there is always an audience.
With that idea settled, or at least settling, I can begin to ask myself more pressing questions about this common denominator. Questions like: What does the role of the audience entail? Is there a responsibility innate to the act of watching? What are the different kinds of watching? There is watching to judge and to criticize. And there is watching that works to examine and understand. There is watching without thinking and there is watching with deep, critical engagement. Is there such a thing as gendered, racialized, or sexualized watching? Dance scholars like Susan Manning would tell you yes. They would tell you that who you are, both how you see yourself and how you are seen by society at large, determines how you watch and what you see. They would tell you that the historical moment you inhabit colors your vision. They would tell you that like visual art, there is such a thing as the ‘period eye’ for dance spectators. We are conditioned to watch in a certain way and to see certain things.
So how would I characterize a 21st century dance audience? What kind of spectators are we? I believe that today’s audience, first and foremost, wants speed and efficiency. These are qualities that we have come to expect from our world. Technology has rendered us impatient; if a webpage takes more than four seconds to load it is refreshed or abandoned, and if the Lean Cuisine calls for a seven-minute cook time we are annoyed by the wait. So, what is dance’s role in either catering to or subverting this need for speed? I cannot answer that question for you. I can only offer my opinion, as one dancemaker, in one moment. And of course, as my world changes so will my answer. But for now, here is a proposal:
Stage the act of watching. Put the audience on the stage with the dancers so that they watch each other as much as they watch the dancing. Ask your dancers to be better audience members throughout dance work. Identify watching as an act of responsibility, witnessing as an act of humanity. Try to blur the lines between dancing and watching; strive for a place where the differences between the two actions are imperceptible and the similarities are many. Have dancers stare back. Write a to-the-point program note explaining your intentions and your questions, thus feeding the need for efficiency. Now your audience will spend less time ‘re-loading the page,’ having already understood its message. And, all the while, recognize your complicity in this 21st century pacing. Then end the dance slowly and, like the inertia that throws your head forward at the end of the roller coaster, imagine that the globe stutters on its axis momentarily.
This is just one answer, for one moment. It is the answer that I will stage on March 28-30 at the Ruth Page Center for the Arts. In this instance, as you can tell, I have given into speed and spectacle and I cannot wait to share the results. In the past I have staged slow dances, long dances, dances with closed eyes (of course, a nod to Yvonne Rainer’s pioneering subversion here), and dances without explanation. I watch all of my dances aware that there is no such thing as a neutral spectator or a passive spectator (with the possible exception of my father sleeping through childhood dance recitals).
And so I humbly ask, next time you enter a theater ask yourself what kind of spectator you are, and what kind of spectator you want to be. What do you see and how do you see it? After all, you, the witness, are a defining factor in the practice of dance and you hold its history in your remembrance.
Contributor Lizzie Leopold is a dancer, dance maker and dance scholar. She holds a BFA in dance from the University of Michigan and a Masters in Performance Studies from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, with thesis work titled Choreography and Commerce: Tracking the Business of Dance Through the Rite(s) of Spring . In fall 2011 she will begin work on an Interdisciplinary PhD in Theater and Drama Studies at Northwestern University, continuing to focus on the intersection of dance and business, both historically and theoretically. Her writing has been presented at the Congress on Research in Dance 2011 Special Topics Conference, Dance and American Studies, and the Cultural Studies Association Conference 2011. She is also a contributor to the Auditorium Theatre of Roosevelt University blog writing about their dance performance series.
Lizzie is the founder and Artistic Director for the Leopold Group, a Chicago based not-for-profit modern dance company. She was awarded Best Choreography for Green Eyes, a new kind of musical in the 2008 New York International Fringe Festival and has been in residence at the Workspace for Choreographers’ Artists Retreat in Sperryville, Virigina and at the Chicago Cultural Center through DanceBridge. In addition to choreographing, Leopold has danced with the Lyric Opera of Chicago. She also works for Audience Architects (www.audiencearchitects.com, www.seechicagodance.com) , a service organization working to build audiences for dance in Chicago, and is working to launch the New Books Network Dance Channel podcast. She currently serves on the Alumni Board of Governors at the University of Michigan’s School of Music, Theater and Dance.0
As we continue our series on choreographers we are pleased to welcome Val Caniparoli – Resident Choreographer for San Francisco Ballet…
You have had a long and varied career as a choreographer. Can you describe a few of the highlights?
It’s difficult to describe highlights in the years since my first creation in 1979. Many highlights for me are when a dancer that I have chosen gets promoted or gets more attention after they have performed my work. I love to give underdogs a chance in major roles.
The response from the World Premiere of Lambarena from the audience opening night with San Francisco Ballet in 1995 was huge.
Creating two successfully different Nutcrackers for two different Company’s (Louisville Ballet and Cincinnati Ballet) is a highlight.
I guess highlights for me are when I create works that audiences love to watch and dancers love and want to be in them. Also when the work exceeded my expectations and the concept, choreography, design and dancers all synch together perfectly. Ibsen’s House and Incantations are examples.
What comes first for you in the process of choreographing a new dance? How do you begin?
When creating a new work inspiration from the music that I came across is the easiest and the best way to begin. When I am commissioned I first need to know what is on the program with me if it’s not a full length work I’m creating. Does the director want an abstract or a story? How many dancers does he or she want me to use?
Some other questions I ask are: Does it need to fit in the beginning, middle or end of the program? What is the budget? How long is my creation process? Can I pick my own designers? Can I have a set or decor? How long are the stage and tech times before the opening? Can the project fit into both my and the company’s existing schedule?
These (and many more) questions need to be resolved before I can even begin working on the artistic side of the new creation.
What is your process like when you are making dances?
The response above answers the first part. The next part is to solidify the music choice, pick the design team and get to work. I collaborate with all the designers from the very beginning on concepts and vision. I’m not one to create the work and then paste on the designs.
We all start work on each project at least a year in advance. Many meetings and telephone calls. Now we have the advantage of Skype. I try to include the Artistic Director in my progress as much as possible.
What role does the music play for you?0
Ladies and gentlemen…join me in welcoming back the marvelous Margi Cole. For those of you who don’t know her, Margi is a choreographer in the Chicago area and is the Founder/Director of The Dance COLEctive.
I had the good fortune to finally meet her last year at an event and found her thoughtful, interesting–and extremely nice. We are pleased to share this interview with her here so you can get a glimpse of what it is like to work as a choreographer in Chicago…as well as what it is like to be a dance maker–from her point of view…
You have been choreographing for a long time. How has your view about making dances changed over the years?
When I started making dances for me, it was all about making the steps. It has evolved over a long period of time into me creating puzzles my dancers must navigate to invent movement vocabulary. I come in with an idea, share it with them, put mechanisms in place for them to begin to investigate and let them have at it. I then become an editor, director, shaper – the girls call it adding the “Margi Spice”. I identify places in the material that are of interest or that don’t seem to work just right, and we explore them and edit it them. Sometimes that even means me inserting myself physically into the moment so that I can help make choices. It also means that lots of material “ends up on the cutting room floor.” I truly enjoy this process, especially watching the dancers engage with each other. I am always working to find new ways to challenge them and myself.
How important do you feel the music is to the dance-making process?
For me, the music always comes later in the process. I always want it to inform/rub against the material so it can be pushed further rather than be consumed by it. I want the movement itself to be interesting enough to exist on its own, then I seek out its partner. The music for me is sometimes a last step. Fortunately, for the last couple of works I created, I had the luxury of working with someone to create a sound score. In some ways that has proven more satisfying than trying to find existing music.
If a dancer came to you and asked how they should pursue a career in choreography, what would your advice be?
Make lots of dances, see lots of dances, listen, have verbal discourse, be a risk taker, ask more of yourself every time and don’t work in a vacuum. Sometimes the answers to things can be found in the strangest places, not necessarily in the studio or during the process. If you have the good fortune of establishing a relationship with a mentor along the way treat it with respect and care. It is so rare to have someone with an outside eye and ear who can support and challenge you like no other. Treat your collaborators the way you would want to be treated. Allow yourself to fail. Sometimes the trip/journey ends up being the most important part of the work and not the work itself.
Do I sometimes hit a wall and not know which direction to turn? Yes! And I have found that it is really much simpler to be honest and say, “Hey, I really need to think about this some more. I don’t know what to do next.” Yes! Inevitably I have to walk away from the material for a bit and then come back to it in order to see it differently. It is like being stuck on a move in Words with Friends. You can’t think of anything and then you go back later and you can’t believe you didn’t see this great move sooner. Throughout the years, I have also given myself permission to turn a corner from my original ideas. I call it listening to the material and letting myself see where it takes me/us.
You are a Chicago-based choreographer. How do you feel about the state of dance in the area?
I feel like dance here in Chicago has a strong prescence on numerous levels. There are many unique voices. It has been wonderful to see the dance community grow and the work become more sophisticated over the years. I think Chicago is more recognized as a city for dance, and I am proud of to that and feel good about my involvement in helping that to happen. I am seeing more people work collaboratively across disciplines. Our emerging and mid-career artists are both working hard seeking out new models for ourselves to ensure more thriving and less surviving. Our biggest struggle is that we are all scrambling for the same resources, but that is true of the dance community at large, not just in Chicago. With all that in mind, I would say there is a lot of innovation and enthusiasm around creating a sustained presence here and beyond.
If you had to do your career as a choreographer all over again—what would you change?
I would be less judgmental and more open. Less fearful and more risky. Less conservative and more bold. Less know-it-all and more curious. I would see challenges as opportunities. In short, I would have given myself permission to fail. But, that is just one of those things that it takes time to figure out.
What have you been working on lately?
Right now the company is working on three duets. They are sourced from the same initial topic and movement vocabulary but are developing into three very different studies. It is fun to watch how they are evolving so differently. I also have a deep curiosity for site specific work and an interest in finding new ways to engage the audience. I am trying to wrap my brain around how I can do both those things in a different way. We will see what happens.
Bio: Margi Cole is Founder and Artistic Director of The Dance COLEctive. She graduated from the Alabama School of Fine Arts, received a Bachelor of Arts in Dance from Columbia College Chicago and a Masters of Fine Arts in Dance from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. As a teacher and guest lecturer, she has taught for numerous educational and professional organizations such as the Alabama Ballet, the American College Dance Festival, Ballet Tennessee, Northwestern University, Columbia College Chicago, Lou Conte Dance Studio, the Joffrey Academy of Dance, the American Dance Festival, and various other institutions throughout Illinois, the Midwest, and the Southeast. As a choreographer, Margi has been commissioned by The Alabama Ballet, Springfield Ballet Company, Sanspointe Dance Company, the Birmingham Museum of Art, Girl’s Preparatory School of Tennessee, Beloit College and Columbia College Chicago.
As a performer, Margi has danced with well-known choreographers and companies, including Ralph Lemon, Joe Goode Performance Group, Liz Burritt, Stephen Koplowitz, Ann Boyd, David Rousseve, Bill Young, Douglas Nielsen, Peter Carpenter, Timothy O’Slynne, Paula Frasz, Colleen Halloran, Molly Shanahan/Mad Shak, Mordine & Company Dance Theatre, Renee Wadleigh, and Ellie Klopp. In August 2011, Cole traveled to Findhorn Scotland to join 19 international performers to participate in the Deborah Hay Solo Commissioning Project.
Awards and acknowledgements of Margi’s accomplishments include making the list of “Teachers Rated Excellent by their Students” four consecutive semesters while on faculty at the University of Illinois, receiving two Dance Center of Columbia College Choreographic Mentoring Scholarships, two Illinois Arts Council Individual Artist Fellowships, a 2005 Chicago Dancemakers Forum grant, a American Marshall Memorial Fellowship, and winning a Panoply Festival Choreography Award for Contemporary Dance in Huntsville, AL.
Margi is active in the Chicago dance community, serving on grant panels and in public forums as an arts administrator, dancer and choreographer. In 2011, she was integral in organizing both the Dance/USA and Marshall Forum annual conferences in Chicago. Cole is currently a Chicago Dancemakers Forum Consortium Member and was a part of the Marshall Memorial Fellowship Selection Committee. She is currently on faculty at Columbia College Chicago, where she has served as a Lecturer and Associate Chair. In 2012 she was named one of The Players in New City”s “Fifty People Who Really Perform in Chicago” List.0