Dear friends,
Welcome to Artists Reach Out: reflections in a time of isolation. I dreamed this series of interviews out of grief for my work both as a documenting arts writer and curator of live performance. In this time of social distancing, we are called to responsibly do all we can to safeguard ourselves and our neighbors. It is, literally, a matter of life and death.
But there's no distancing around what we still can share with one another--our experiences, thoughts, wisdom, humor, hearts and spirit. In some ways, there are more opportunities to do so as we pull back from everyday busyness out in the world and have time to honor the call of our inner lives.
So, let me introduce you to some artists I find interesting. I'm glad they're part of our beautiful community, and I'm eager to engage with them again (or for the first time) in years to come.
--Eva Yaa Asantewaa, InfiniteBody
Asma Feyijinmi
Asma Feyijinmi is a Brooklyn-born and -raised artist who particularly savors facilitating community building. Movement and percussion are her vehicles to explore social justice, history and language. She has worked as a teaching artist with many arts and education programs throughout the five boroughs including: UBW’s BOLD, Lincoln Center, The Morris Jumel Mansion and DreamYard Project. In November of 2018, she joined The Park Avenue Armory Teaching Corps.
Her career as a performer has included working with Urban Bush Women, Edwina Lee Tyler and A Piece of The World, Forces of Nature, LadyGourd Sangoma and Obba Babatunde. She also performed in The Love Project with dancers from 2 to 80 years of age, directed and choreographed by Penelope McCourty. She can be found as the lead actress in A Powerful Thang by filmmaker Zeinabu Davis and contributed to the soundtrack of Ms. Davis’s film Compensation. Asma has also been a muse for artists Harvey Dinnerstein, Quimetta Perle and George Staempfli.
*****
Do you have a current or planned project whose progress is affected by the pandemic? As a dance teaching artist, I lost cherished work in public schools. As a performer, I am mourning not being in Bill T. Jones' Deep Blue Sea. I was one of the 89 community participants. Briefly, tell me about how you got involved in the arts and in your particular practice. I grew up in a family filled with artists. My grandfather played mandolin, my godfather played guitar. My uncle was a surrealist painter. My cousin is a jazz saxophonist. None of them supported their family producing art, but it was a daily part of all our lives. When my mother took me to see Les Ballet Africains at the Apollo Theater when I was five years old, I knew, there and then, that was what I wanted to do. I was enthralled with the complex conversations the dancers and drummers held without words. It filled me with a fierce joy. When I was finally able to pursue my passion for dance, passing on the traditions and building community enriched my soul immensely. In a more specific way, what are you practicing? And what are you envisioning? I am a cultural worker whose labor includes storytelling, music making, dance making, and facilitating an appreciation of the power of dance. As a woman of Nigerian and Bajan descent, I have found solace in studying and teaching dances of African descent within their continuous incarnations and fusions. I also cherish facilitating dancemaking with my students and learning about what matters to them. I am militant about dance's worth in this world. Within the edifice of dance lives empathy, the balanced sharing of space and time, strength and flexibility. It also houses the means to transform and heal. Within the context of African traditions, dance also honors their elders and thrives from their wisdom as young dancers are born. I am envisioning dance thriving in this time and playing an essential role in nurturing empathy and healing. How does your practice and your visioning align with what you most care about? I realized at a young age, the brutal impacts of racism, classism and sexism on my body. As a result, I became a human rights activist. Studying dance became a doorway to a sense of freedom I know nowhere else in this world. Becoming a teaching artist allowed me to continue dancing, while sharing stories about incredible dance pioneers who fought injustice as activists and artists. Dance is my pathway to conversations about equity, injustice and transformation. It is also a fertile ground to grow self esteem and discipline. My practice allows me to witness the genius of new generations as I continue to sit at the feet of my elders. How does your practice function within the world we have now? My practice has been unleashed. I am no longer exhausted by the daily commutes to various and sundry destinations to teach. I can practice and create virtual content from the comfort of my home. I have been devising movement meditations for my colleagues to navigate this pandemic. I have begun to play with my friends who are dancers and musicians without the constraints of being worried about money. None of us have any now. But what we do have is access to infinite creativity. Briefly share one self-care tip that has special meaning to you now. Practicing my shekeres and udu drum helps me to walk down memory lane. There I am embraced by the magnificent teachers I have learned from. Madeleine Yayodele Nelson was one of the most compassionate teachers I ever studied with. She is an ancestor now. I just needed to call her name.... The practice of remembering my ancestors is integral to my self care.
******Asma Feyijinmi
 |
| Asma Feyijinmi (photo courtesy of the artist) |
Asma Feyijinmi is a Brooklyn-born and -raised artist who particularly savors facilitating community building. Movement and percussion are her vehicles to explore social justice, history and language. She has worked as a teaching artist with many arts and education programs throughout the five boroughs including: UBW’s BOLD, Lincoln Center, The Morris Jumel Mansion and DreamYard Project. In November of 2018, she joined The Park Avenue Armory Teaching Corps.
Her career as a performer has included working with Urban Bush Women, Edwina Lee Tyler and A Piece of The World, Forces of Nature, LadyGourd Sangoma and Obba Babatunde. She also performed in The Love Project with dancers from 2 to 80 years of age, directed and choreographed by Penelope McCourty. She can be found as the lead actress in A Powerful Thang by filmmaker Zeinabu Davis and contributed to the soundtrack of Ms. Davis’s film Compensation. Asma has also been a muse for artists Harvey Dinnerstein, Quimetta Perle and George Staempfli.
*****
Do you have a current or planned project whose progress is affected by the pandemic? As a dance teaching artist, I lost cherished work in public schools. As a performer, I am mourning not being in Bill T. Jones' Deep Blue Sea. I was one of the 89 community participants. Briefly, tell me about how you got involved in the arts and in your particular practice. I grew up in a family filled with artists. My grandfather played mandolin, my godfather played guitar. My uncle was a surrealist painter. My cousin is a jazz saxophonist. None of them supported their family producing art, but it was a daily part of all our lives. When my mother took me to see Les Ballet Africains at the Apollo Theater when I was five years old, I knew, there and then, that was what I wanted to do. I was enthralled with the complex conversations the dancers and drummers held without words. It filled me with a fierce joy. When I was finally able to pursue my passion for dance, passing on the traditions and building community enriched my soul immensely. In a more specific way, what are you practicing? And what are you envisioning? I am a cultural worker whose labor includes storytelling, music making, dance making, and facilitating an appreciation of the power of dance. As a woman of Nigerian and Bajan descent, I have found solace in studying and teaching dances of African descent within their continuous incarnations and fusions. I also cherish facilitating dancemaking with my students and learning about what matters to them. I am militant about dance's worth in this world. Within the edifice of dance lives empathy, the balanced sharing of space and time, strength and flexibility. It also houses the means to transform and heal. Within the context of African traditions, dance also honors their elders and thrives from their wisdom as young dancers are born. I am envisioning dance thriving in this time and playing an essential role in nurturing empathy and healing. How does your practice and your visioning align with what you most care about? I realized at a young age, the brutal impacts of racism, classism and sexism on my body. As a result, I became a human rights activist. Studying dance became a doorway to a sense of freedom I know nowhere else in this world. Becoming a teaching artist allowed me to continue dancing, while sharing stories about incredible dance pioneers who fought injustice as activists and artists. Dance is my pathway to conversations about equity, injustice and transformation. It is also a fertile ground to grow self esteem and discipline. My practice allows me to witness the genius of new generations as I continue to sit at the feet of my elders. How does your practice function within the world we have now? My practice has been unleashed. I am no longer exhausted by the daily commutes to various and sundry destinations to teach. I can practice and create virtual content from the comfort of my home. I have been devising movement meditations for my colleagues to navigate this pandemic. I have begun to play with my friends who are dancers and musicians without the constraints of being worried about money. None of us have any now. But what we do have is access to infinite creativity. Briefly share one self-care tip that has special meaning to you now. Practicing my shekeres and udu drum helps me to walk down memory lane. There I am embraced by the magnificent teachers I have learned from. Madeleine Yayodele Nelson was one of the most compassionate teachers I ever studied with. She is an ancestor now. I just needed to call her name.... The practice of remembering my ancestors is integral to my self care.
DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve as Senior Curatorial Director of Gibney. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.
******
Subscribe in a reader
1 comment:
So great. Inspirational. Grateful to have known this artist, educator and guide for many years.
Post a Comment