MR Festival 2008: Said/Unsaid by Eva Yaa Asantewaa

by Eva Yaa Asantewaa
MR Festival Spring 2008: Somewhere Out There

I left close to 4pm. So, I’m not sure if Saturday’s circle in dialogue at Judson ever got around to directly addressing moderator Rebecca Lazier’s opening topic–“What is an ideal institution?”–or its eventual offshoot, “What are some new models for working together?” Those questions seemed to dangle loose, and unloved, in the air, mainly, I suspect, because Movement Research folks generally don’t relish being asked to impose a governing idea on something. They like to create opportunities for that certain something to emerge, and if and when it does, then they can appreciate and work with the gift of it.

What fascinated me, though, was the sudden invocation of two choreographers–in particular, two Black male choreographers, one right after the other–as examples of artists with some history with Movement Research who had gone on to successful, prominent careers. The first was cited as one who no longer had a relationship with Movement Research; the other, as one whose abiding interest in and support for the organization continued despite his absence from the Movement Research scene and his centrality to a community of his own.

Although there was an unanswered question on the floor (from an Austrian artist, I believe)–“What is the Movement Research community?”–at no time did anyone bring up the obvious: that both men in question are African-American and Movement Research’s profile is predominantly white (and, to my comparatively ancient eye, various degrees of young).

What makes this really interesting to me is the dialogue’s undercurrent of concern about the difficulties of being the artist one wants to be as opposed to hewing to the demands of the mainstream marketplace–the funding sources, presenters, critics and, of course, the kinds of audiences who may or may not “get” you. In her opening statements, Lazier cited the paradox of the necessity of isolation–I think she actually used that word, although not in a negative way–and the necessity of being able to figure out some way to place your product out there in the marketplace. She wondered “Who do we want our audience to be?” How does one encourage audiences and yet maintain creative independence?

Perhaps one of the most telling statements from the circle was this: “To have a community is to have boundaries.” Another dance artist expressed satisfaction in being “left alone to do what we want,” a situation made possible by law-abiding artists out there playing by conventional rules, giving the institutions what they want, distracting the ravenous lions. The margins, in other words, are good and safe places to be.

Another question from among the circle that pretty much went unanswered was “For whom are you making your work?” But typical audiences in New York, the circle did agree, are other performers (presumably, those drawn to your particular aesthetic and output), your loyal friends and your loving family.

I left the dialogue, thinking about those two Black male choreographers and the kinds of diverse, multicultural audiences that their companies enjoy today. I thought about Black audiences, too, and the prevailing aesthetic values that are especially prized by the majority of Black consumers of the arts–technical skill and virtuosity; engaging performance by charismatic, often glamorous performers; clarity of theme and narrative; accessible feeling and dramatic intensity; moral direction and uplift. These are not values that I associate with the experimental labwork of Movement Research–at least, not in the most direct, obvious ways. I wondered if the artists of Movement Research, as a community, and most Black consumers of the arts would ever have anything to say to one another and if the possibility that that will never occur sits well with the artists of Movement Research as they enjoy the freedom to make the art they feel called to make.

Let’s face it: In New York, most audiences reflect a kind of self-willed segregation. I don’t know the answer to this, but I know I feel a loss here. When I listened to the dialogue, I felt that something (unsaid) had been (all too readily) given up as lost. I wonder if others recognize and feel it, too.

Eva Yaa Asantewaa InfiniteBody http://infinitebody.blogspot.com

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Response to Said/Unsaid (from a current AIR)

Submitted by rrocke on Fri, 06/06/2008 – 11:54am.

Let me first begin by stating that I was reluctant to respond to Ms. Asantewaa’s post, “Said/Unsaid,” simply because I believe that more progress can be made by MAKING WORK rather than getting trapped in the frustrating cycle of dialogue over what is wrong/unjust/unfortunate with the means to go about MAKING WORK. However, discussing dance can often become a valuable experience so…

I admire and am intrigued by Asantewaa’s persistence in acknowledging the “elephant in the room” concerning the underlying issue of racial invisibility within not only the Movement Research (MR) Festival but also within the organization as a whole. However, as an African American who happens to be a current Artist in Residence for MR, I feel it’s important to address some of the concerns that Ms. Asantewaa’s brings up in her post.

What most concerned me is Ms. Asantewaa’s assumption that MR does not support “…technical skill and virtuosity; clarity of theme and narrative; accessible feeling and dramatic intensity [and] moral direction and uplift,” which she states are those values that are often prized by “black consumers” and not MR. I firmly believe that the work I see by my fellow Artist In Residence and those affiliated with MR has not only a clear theme but also is extremely virtuosic and engaging; only in an aesthetically different way than what Ms. Asantewaa is referring to. To label one style of movement virtuosic and clear and another not is limiting and frankly, not well informed. I personally find the work of Miguel Gutierrez, Ann Liv Young, Daniel Linehan, Beth Gill, Isabel Lewis and DD Dorvillier to be not only smart and well thought out, but also progressive and motivating. And although he rarely performs now, Mr. Ishmael Houston Jones is one of the most talented, engaging, sharp and relevant artists I have ever come across.

I believe that what Ms. Asantewaa failed to remember is that artists such as Alvin Ailey, who is by far the most successful African American choreographer and whose dancers are known for their high level of technical skill and “glamorous performance,” is that his work came about because of a lack of visibility and respect of blacks within the ballet and modern dance world. Mr. Ailey wanted to show that blacks too have just as much artistry and skill as white dancers and by forming his own company he was able to develop a black presence alongside white-dominated ballet and modern companies. He was successful at what he set out to do and thus, paved the way for future artists. Since then dance, especially modern dance, has shifted, morphed and evolved and performance qualities such as virtuosic technique and glamour are being questioned and commented upon. High levels of technical dancing are still relevant; yet certain audiences are seeking to see it displayed in varying ways.

I also take issue with Ms. Asantewaa’s assumption that MR does not seek out, or make an effort to present African American artists. Rather, it is possible that maybe in turn, there is a lack of interest in MR on behalf of African American choreographers and dancers. I have been involved in dance since the age of three and over the years I have begun to realize that often, it is lack of resources, class differences and lack of interest that are reasons for blacks to not seek out institutions such as MR. It has been my experience that more often than not, I am one of only a few blacks present in many of the classes, workshops and festivals that I attend (although I have to admit that this is not usually the case for classes etc. in NYC).

Keep in mind, I sought out to experience dance in ways that are provided to me through organizations such as MR. Back in 2000 I began my studies to receive my BFA and at that time I started taking classes/workshops during my summer and winter vacations at places such as MR and Trisha Brown studios because they are affiliated with dance that interests me. I chose to apply to be a MR Artist in Residence because I believe MR is an organization that supports my interests/growth as an artist. There is a larger issue at hand here. Yes, race does play a major role; but I think it is also one of class and economic status and what to do about it is something that is bigger than dance/art.

I know within my work, I use my years of highly technical training as a basis for creating but it is not my concern to convince audiences that I can kick my leg up to my head or do multiple pirouettes. My main concern as an artist (because that it what I choose to call myself) is to comment upon and sometimes destroy the status quo, not only within dance but the world at large. I am not concerned with avoiding racial, political, gender issues. Rather, I feel more comfortable confronting those issues through dance/text. As many of my peers have heard me say over and over again, MAKE YOUR WORK. I can sit and complain and blame or I can get into a studio and create. I feel that I become more visible, uplifted and fulfilled through creation. I myself find it frustrating to see fewer women choreographers getting commissioned by major dance companies or to see females constantly being forced to portray ignorant and often silly gender stereotypes within dance. The point is, in the end, the artist creates as a mode of expression and thus, that is his/her tool for addressing these frustrations. MAKE YOUR WORK. Sometimes that is all one can do.

rrocke@gmail.com

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Reply to Regina Rocke

Submitted by Eva Yaa Asantewaa on Wed, 06/11/2008 – 12:57pm.

Please feel free to call me Eva. My surname is Yaa Asantewaa, not Asantewaa.

You might have overlooked the completion of my sentence: “These are not values that I associate with the experimental lab work of Movement Research–at least, not in the most direct, obvious ways.” Perhaps I should have put more emphasis on those concluding words. But I don’t think there’s any doubt that most audiences outside of MR’s immediate community of artists, like-minded colleagues, artistic collaborators, supporters and chroniclers are looking for work that has more familiar accessibility. Work that engages you as an artist and an audience member might be totally uncommunicative to someone else with other experiences, interests and needs. Which is not to suggest that you have to “kick your leg up to [your] head and do multiple pirouettes,” as you mention in your reply.

My words–“not in the most direct, obvious ways”–were my way of acknowledging that I do often find unconventional forms of virtuosity, skill and expressiveness in work presented by artists associated with Movement Research and its aesthetics. Would I be going to your concerts, your festival and sitting up in your community dialogue, if I really thought it was a complete waste of my time? I take particular exception to your listing artists such as Miguel Gutierrez, Daniel Linehan, Beth Gill and Isabel Lewis since I have admired much about their intelligent intent and artistry, and you seem to have made an assumption that I do not. Nevertheless, these qualities are not necessarily evident to all others. There’s a wide world, somewhere out there, and I tend to keep that wide world on my mind. The fact that a huge number of people out there are, like me and you, of African descent is not a negligible matter for me. I think there is a loss of the possibilities of communication and exchange and growth for everyone concerned. I was calling Movement Research–as a community and an organization–to be mindful of that loss and inquire into it. I was responding directly to questions that had come up in the community discussion and which had been addressed only in oblique ways or not addressed at all.

It’s interesting that you seem to be suggesting that artists should keep their focus on their work and not engage with expression and dialogue around matters of social concern. (I’m going to try to ignore your use of the words “sit and complain and blame,” which sound like something dismissive out of the political conservatives’ phrase book.) Many great artists have shown us that not only can they do both but they actually feel compelled to live out their deepest values by showing up for both roles, for entwining both. For some, those identities are indeed inextricable.

I kind of understand your mantra, MAKE YOUR WORK. But here’s the thing: Your work is movement. My work is writing and speaking, which means that when I see an elephant in the living room, those are the tools that would be most natural to me. I really would have to speak up about the elephant. Since you have acknowledged the elephant, it’s clear that we are both seeing it and responding and doing what feels inherent to who we are. I see, write, speak, inquire. My questions to Movement Research are these: When you look around at NYC dance audiences of most kinds, your own and others, you must admit that, with few exceptions, you can see with your own eyes that they are, effectively, segregated. What does that mean to you? How does that feel to you? Is it something to ignore? Or is it worth looking at in the spirit of inquiry, experimentation, collaboration and risk-taking that, from everything I’ve ever heard, Movement Research is all about?

Eva Yaa Asantewaa InfiniteBody http://infinitebody.blogspot.com