Critical Correspondence's Page

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

There is bad art. There is bad dance. There is bad video. There is bad music. [There are bad people.] There are bad scenarios. There are bad collaborations, and there are bad decisions made within the collision of media that can or cannot (or should or should not) co-exist. [There are good ones of all of these, by the way.] If there is a dance with bad music, the dance (as a choreographic work) is not “good” (as a choreographic work). There can be a bad artwork with good technique. There can be a bad dance with good dancing. Whether an artistic work is marked “successful” is often a subjective determination, and though one might view a dance with bad use of sound as “successful," another might label it as flat out “bad.” In the end, I think it means the choreographic work is not “good.” Though it is important to consider where these opinion-givers are coming from, in order to avoid the possibility of “bad," we need to make a move toward looking at the whole package.

Ultimately, I am a fan of STRATEGIC COUPLING. At the same time, I am not a fan of REQUIRED COUPLING, as this scenario often breeds the product of BAD coupling. [We’ve seen this before.]

Since sound exists whether we want it to or not, the use of music should enhance a dance, assuming that the initial intention is the creation of some form of “dance.” Strategic coupling (in the realms of music and dance) yields a new dance that could not exist in the same way without all components. The dance is dependent upon the sound and vice-versa. (Of course, dependence can equal independent parts if the intention is present.)

music + dance ≠ complete work
Obviously.

Why don’t more good composers work with dance? Maybe they don’t need dance. Collaboration cannot be forced (unless the intention is present). If you don’t need it or don’t have the desire to look around to see what you might be missing, don’t do it. Nothing may be missing. Let other people miss it for you. The desire should be natural.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” We’re all allowed to feel this way as representatives of our respective media.

If there is so much [good] dance with bad use of music, then music is too often used as a crutch. How can we take advantage of musicians in this way? How can we sell ourselves short in this way? Dance-makers relay movement, and daily movement always comes with a soundtrack. Sometimes it sucks; sometimes it rocks. Sometimes it matches right up; sometimes it is too loud on someone’s iPod. We have a mixed bag in our daily soundtrack. Dance reflects this. Does that give dance permission to use sound in a poor manner? No. Everyone has already experienced the bad soundtrack in restaurants, elevators, on the street, in stores, etc. etc. In many of these situations, the focus is on the movement and intention rather than on the music. In these situations, the music may be used to repair the awkwardness and messy seams of daily life. We don’t ride elevators for the music; we don’t shop for clothes in order to hear the soundtrack of outfit sifting. We don’t need to recreate this situation in our creative fields just because we’re used to it. I think we can do better than that.

In making a work, a moment is framed, whether it is concocted, autobiographical, etc. Dance as a framing device has a soundtrack. This provides the opportunity for the dance-maker to create (or commission or collaborate on) a soundtrack for an excerpted moment of movement. It’s like a map: Certain areas are magnified in a different location in order to provide clarity. Music should provide clarity (even if clarity = chaos). A dance to a junky copy of a song (that probably already has a music video) does not usually exhibit clarity as a complete creative work. Of course, it all boils down to intention.

In order for the collaboration between dance-makers and musicians to be complete, language (body/written/conceptual, etc) must change due to the compartmentalization of creative disciplines that is already in place. Outside of the educational institution, the audience could be coming from a variety of different places. Personally, I’d prefer not to preach to the converted. I wouldn’t want to make a sculpture that is intended to be presented in the round while hoping that nobody looks at that one corner I couldn’t finish in time. I wouldn’t want to spend three months on a choreographic work only to slap a song on top because I was too lazy to determine all aspects of my intention. Ideally, audience members come from all different disciplines. Whether or not this actually happens and how to make it happen more can be saved for a different discussion, but that also boils down to language. Though the focus for the dance-maker is on the dance, that dance could (and should be) judged from all perspectives. There is no need to please all of these perspectives, but a better relationship between dance and music comes from an awareness of audience and the overlap of disciplines. Intention is important, even if the intended outcome doesn’t translate in the intended manner.

The language of the institution is in place, and right now, we need to deal with it by recognizing that a whole lot may be left out of education in the creative disciplines. I have recently entered this community from the visual arts. The language I have been involved with has encouraged me to describe myself as a performance artist. Had I attended an institution with a dance program, perhaps I would identify myself as a dancer/dance-maker/choreographer. I could be making the same work. I’d rather not take a label at all, but again, language is in place, and we have to deal with it. This doesn’t give me an excuse to use other disciplines poorly or lose sight of the fact that I am in a field that aims to provide multi-media/disciplinary work to an audience that is familiar with the language of compartmentalization.

The fact is that both musicians and dancers also experience the opposite medium in daily life. There’s no excuse. Though visual images/references are often associated with memory (the archive of autobiographical experience), most people would say they have more experience with music than dance. This is the language barrier—-Since we have a language that is limited, we pass this on to our respective media. Everyone else picks up on this and is forced to adapt to the situation. We’re digging ourselves into a hole by supporting the isolation of dance as an independent medium. I get the feeling, however, that from this hole, some of us are calling out and asking other disciplines to jump in. We’re wondering why they’re not checking it out down there. Maybe we need to crawl up a bit and encourage a give-and-take relationship to happen. In other words, if crappy music is used or music is used in a crappy manner, it will be excluded from the dialogue. People that want to write about dance will have to leave out the music aspect because they won’t be exposed to it on a “professional” level. Artists are educating the critics even while the critics are critiquing. We can’t educate if we can’t figure things out for ourselves. It’s a great defense mechanism that’s in place. We might be at fault here, and maybe asking for help is the best way to go. [I’m presenting a harsh view based on this "Dance for Music" topic. It is indeed true that many choreographers are using sound/music/silence in a great and intelligent way, and I don’t mean to minimize such instances. We’re also all educating one another in presentation, and there’s no substitute for experimentation and exhibition experience.]

I think it’s important to think about the obligation of the dancer to the public and to music (as a discipline/medium/creative industry). Dance is a public medium. It depends on the public (usually). You can’t make a billion dances and store them in your closet in the same way you can with drawings. Dance owes it to music to be respectful of a parallel medium. This doesn’t mean everyone’s (audience, institutions, musicians, etc.) feelings need to be nurtured in the finished work, but as a creative director, it needs to be understood that the presentation of work is generally a collaborative one, if only between the dance-maker and audience.

So how are dance-makers expected to connect with musicians/composers? I don’t think there’s a definite answer to this, but if this connection is something one wants, I don’t imagine that this should be too difficult. The desire is completely situational, and again, I certainly don’t support this collaboration unless it’s a desired direction/experiment/practice. Required coupling can only work if one wants to be forced, in which case “no” can mean “yes” within the work.

I can offer my experience (as a performance artist) with music/sound (because I was encouraged to do so):
I’ve been making performance works with my collaborator, Holly Faurot since 2002. Prior to this collaboration, we made work independently but often performed in one another’s works. When we decided to begin our collaboration with a 2-hour piece in our Brooklyn loft, we realized that we had little knowledge of music/sound, but we wanted it to be live and composed specifically for the piece. We actually put an ad on Craigslist.com describing what we thought we wanted in terms of sound. Quite a range of musicians/composers replied and delivered samples of their work. In the end, we were fortunate enough to be contacted by Joel Mellin (www.joelmellin.com), and we began a dialogue that still continues today. He has been composing music for our performance works ever since our shot-in-the-dark Craigslist.com post. Together, we’ve naturally entered this dance dialogue and have begun a language that often becomes blurry when a conversation emerges regarding what we do and what medium it might fall under.

This collaboration has really worked for us, and I feel lucky for it. For the most part, Holly and I have created durational pieces that last anywhere from one to three hours. I view Joel’s sound as an “opener” where audience members can ease into the piece and sit in it. Viewers can let the sound fill the space around them in the same way that the movement surrounds them. With each performance, we gain a better understanding of how the finished work can fold in on itself in terms of music and movement. Since we’ve never performed a work twice, we’re forced to maintain and add to this language at a pretty rapid pace.

Within the overlapping of disciplines is the need to develop a language that doesn’t already exist. Ultimately, if you create multi-disciplinary/multi-sensory/multi-anything work, you don’t want a language to already exist for it. In strategic coupling, I’m not suggesting that dance needs to be performed to new, live, or any particular type of music. There is a non-consensual coupling when a choreographer uses a pre-existing song/music composition. I support it (in only some instances), but I don’t do it (or haven’t done it). It’s an easier crime for the body-oriented to take advantage of the audio-oriented. Composers might have more trouble “stealing” a dance. This seems to be a pretty unfair position that musicians have been cornered into.

I cannot really comment on the moral issues associated with “stealing” music, as there are various degrees to which this matters. I can say, however, that if I put my body out there in a performance environment, whether it is in a gallery, public space, stage, etc., I expect that my image can be taken. That’s the risk I’m taking, and though someone stealing, altering, or re-presenting my image in a different way might make me unhappy, it’s the nature of the body in the public forum of the world. But I’m allowed to say this about my own work, while maintaining a general adverse reaction to the idea of stealing music. [It should be noted that during business hours I work for an art gallery where I handle reproduction rights and copyright issues/permission for a selection of artists. I have strong views about the stealing of visual art images. These views are quite similar to my feelings about the use of music.]

In the end, intention is important. Strategic coupling might make better complete works. Sound is not always necessary. New languages need to be developed when dance and music are grouped together. Dancers don’t always need music. Musicians don’t need dance. Use it if it’s necessary. Dance already has sound, and music already has movement. Enhance it if there’s a need/desire/curiosity. Consider the audience. Consider that the audience might have different knowledge or a different history. At the same time, don’t just add music for the audience—-The audience can be challenged, too. Laziness is not an excuse. Dance is a public medium, as is music. Responsibility is important. On the other hand, if you don’t care, don’t care with great intention.

+++++++

Sarah H. Paulson
sarah@faurotpaulson.com / www.faurotpaulson.com

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

Eagle Ager is a New York based collective

Visit these two posts for more on Catch 30 from jameswagner.com.

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