Is this thing ready?

One of the blogs in the right-hand margin is about software development and management. I discovered Rands in Repose through a good friend of mine in Arizona who told me about the care and feeding of nerds. (Was she trying to tell me something?) That blog is here because a) Rands (not his real name) is a really good writer, and b) the creative process is similar enough to software development that you can cadge some really good ideas from sources like this.

Dancers, musicians, writers, artists, and programmers are all involved in the same process: transforming a concept into a thing. That thing might be a piece of movement or sound or code, but the process is basically the same, and the software folks have devised a process with clear, discrete stages, so you can quickly and concretely describe your current project state.

(Quick aside: the Rands post on these stages deals with how these stages are losing their original meanings in the software world, but knowing about the stages themselves is what's most germane here. What's not germane about the post, but *is* amusing, is reflecting on a time when the social-networking site competition was mainly between Friendster, Orkut, and Tribe. Four years is a long time.)

The stages (with cadged-from-Rands-and-paraphrased descriptions) are:

• Alpha: "From a distance, it looks like it could become something, but please don't touch it or it'll fall apart."

Alpha is your splashing/trolling/throwing-out phase. You've found one or two germinal things, but very little exists in terms of structure or connective material. As a choreographer, your piece is in Alpha if you've got a phrase or two that you like, but no idea how to utilize them compositionally and no music. Or maybe you've got music and a couple images, but very little is moving yet. Basically, your work is in Alpha if it's too early to show to anyone else, either because there's nothing to show or because your own mind is so cluttered with half-shaped ideas that other perspectives would just muddy things up. If you're a musician, any and all note-learning time is Alpha time-- don't kid yourself about being farther down the road than you are.

• Beta: "Take a look and let me know what you think, though I'm not entirely sure it won't explode. Wear goggles."

Unlike Alpha, Beta is where you NEED other people to see it. Beta is the most commonly-seen phase in software development, because releasing a program in Beta is the best way to find out what's wrong with it-- just throw it out there and wait for the complaint emails.

(I'm running one piece of software that's truly beta-- my Quicksilver launcher program-- and it does freeze and make me force-quite iTunes every few days. Big deal-- if it's beta, things like that are supposed to happen, and when it works, I can do almost anything [yes, anything] on my computer with 5-10 keystrokes. With Quicksilver running, I can open iTunes, Stickies, NewsFire, and my Gmail account, AND log in to Facebook in about 10 seconds. It rocks.)

Got two or three large sections of work done, but unconnected to each other? Beta. Got most of the movement done and need to decide on costumes and commission a score? Beta. Asking for teachers and peers to take a quick peek and give advice? You guessed it. Most of what's seen at dance showings is Beta stuff.

Your colleagues are vital parts of Beta-- every work needs some cold examination, and you've just spent all your Alpha time falling in love with your materials. Get fresh eyes-- your colleagues will see things you can't, whether those things are defects (get rid of them) or opportunities (check them out).

• Gamma: "Unless we find a heinous problem, it's ready to go."

Software companies have ship dates; artists have performances and gallery openings. Either way, there's a point where you STOP FIXING SMALL PROBLEMS. If you're fixing small problems, or tinkering in any way, you're in Beta. (And that's fine. Fix and tinker if you want-- just don't fool yourself into thinking that you're ready for curtain.) Big problems do get fixed in Gamma, but here, literal show-stoppers are the only big problems. Tech and dress rehearsals had better expletive-well be Gamma or you're way screwed.

Getting to Gamma early can be as tricky as getting there late-- Gamma a month before your show means you've got to maintain freshness while rehearsing the same thing over and over. Don't overwork and get burned out. Don't underwork and get sloppy.

Three stages-- neat, clean, and easy to remember. You've probably felt some of these stages yourself; internal statements like, "I wonder what so-and-so would have to say about this" and, "There's not enough time to change that phrase" are affirmations that you're at a certain A/B/G place. Sure, the terms don't catch all of the subtleties of the current moment, but if I told you that my piece is kind of messy right now but would be Beta in two weeks, you'd have a pretty clear idea where it's at.