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Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Artists Reach Out: Catherine Cabeen

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



Catherine Cabeen



Catherine Cabeen
(photo: Sherry Russell)



Catherine Cabeen, MFA, is a former member of the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Company, the Martha Graham Dance Company, and Richard Move’s MoveOpolis!, among others. She founded her interdisciplinary performance company, Hyphen, in 2009. As a choreographer, Cabeen has received commissions from On the Boards, Donald Byrd’s Spectrum Dance Theater, Seattle Art Museum, the Visa2Dance Festival in Dar Es Salaam, and Alsarab Dance Company in Byblos, Lebanon, among others. The New York Times called the work of Cabeen's Hyphen “highly kinetic, complex” and “visually exquisite.” Cabeen’s 2011 evening-length work Into the Void, commissioned by On the Boards in Seattle, was documented for On the Boards’ performing arts library and can be seen at ontheboards.tv. Cabeen is an Associate Professor at Marymount Manhattan College and a repetiteur for the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Company. catherinecabeen.com.



Kristina Berger (left) and Catherine Cabeen
in Glitter in the Gutter
(photo: Ira Landgarten)


Do you have a current or planned project whose progress is affected by the pandemic?

I was looking forward to performing as a community member in Bill T. Jones’ Deep Blue Sea at the Park Avenue Armory in April. Rehearsals for the project were profound and illuminating, specifically in relation to the spectrum between loneliness/community, and personal/collective agency. It is an important work for this time but, of course, the performances were canceled/indefinitely postponed.

Residencies and upcoming performances of the dance-theater comedy series Glitter in the Gutter, which I created in collaboration with Kristina Berger, have also been canceled/indefinitely postponed.

Figuring out how to best offer remote dance classes for Marymount Manhattan College has certainly taken up a lot of my time and energy in the last few months. Attempting to be an anchor for students, while their lives and dreams were turned inside out and upside down, has been extremely challenging. As a teacher, I have never felt more simultaneously needed, and helpless, than I have this past semester.

Briefly, tell me about how you got involved in the arts and in your particular practice.

The story I’ve been told is that I came out of my mother spreadeagle and screaming. I’ve lived most of my life that way. The viscerality of modern dance training, from a young age, helped me to use the intensity of my emotional life to communicate, connect, and transform.

My mother is an eco-feminist, visual artist. I grew up knowing that making had meaning, and that through creative practices we can lead a considered life. I was hired by Bill T. Jones at age 19. Jones’ articulate mentorship and unapologetically political work are hugely impactful in focusing my creative and educational work towards social justice.

Incorporating humor into my work in the last decade has been incredibly therapeutic and empowering. Humor requires precise timing, and I love that kind of exquisite craftsmanship. At the same time, humor enables us to speak truth to power as satire often slips under, around, and through all kinds of censors.

I perform as a clown as much in classrooms and in faculty meetings as I do on stage, in order to bring difficult conversations to the table in a way that can often permeate hierarchy’s defenses.

In a more specific way, what are you practicing? And what are you envisioning?

I’m practicing yoga and somatic meditation, as both are essential to my ability to stay calm in challenging situations.

I’m practicing a lot of video editing in order to participate as fully as possible in asynchronous classes, rituals, and performances. Glitter in the Gutter emerged in 2016 as a way to turn frustrations about aging as dancers, the cost of creative production in New York City, academia, etc., into joy. In line with the spirit of the work, we are now creating new vignettes remotely which reflect both on current and long-standing frustrations in an attempt to keep ourselves sane by laughing together.

I’m practicing being a loving and generous wife. In our tiny shared space, this dyadic relationship is giving us both a rich opportunity to practice integrity in our communication.

I’m practicing holding my ground with a college bureaucracy, insisting that we use this disruption of the perpetual motion machine that maintains the status quo, to move towards including anti-capitalist, gender non-conforming, and anti-racist dance practices in our dance curriculum.

How does your practice and your visioning align with what you most care about?

Yoga and meditation help me to remember the power of practices that go unseen. These are not performative practices, but they temper every social interaction I have--from intimate encounters within my family to standing up for social justice as an artist and educator. These spiritual practices hold space for my own mental health work, which in turn empowers me to hold space for others.

Laughter is an essential practice. It is also highly contagious. I hope that making myself laugh through the rhinestone-encrusted sidewalk crack that is Glitter in the Gutter will bring lightness and joy to others as well.

I care deeply about supporting the visions of the young adults I am honored to be able to work with as an educator. I don’t feel that as a teacher I need to have all the answers, but I do think that as a teacher it is my responsibility to hold space for new possibilities. It is my job as a teacher to support young voices as they articulate their visions, and that requires me/inspires me to imagine a future with infinite possibilities.

How does your practice function within the world we have now?

This pandemic has vividly exposed layers of injustice that have been made manifest by decades of biased American policies. It feels more important than ever to be disciplined with my spiritual practices, in order to build the inner fortitude required, to not look away.

I have been part of a team pushing assertively in the last few years to shift MMC’s dance curriculum towards anti-racism and gender inclusivity. I am very afraid that in everyone’s desire to “return to normal,” combined with navigating the financial crisis all colleges are in, that prior work to change the representation and inclusion of what we teach will get lost.

Balancing self-care--be it through laughter, expressive movement, or meditation, with the work of social justice--is essential to my current practice. I feel that aggressive advocacy and equanimity are not opposites but two aspects of my being. The current crisis is asking me to practice both.

Briefly share one self-care tip that has special meaning to you now.

I have always been a fan of late-night political comedy shows. As the hosts of my favorite shows all started to broadcast from home in the last few months, I found the transition both painful and fascinating. The uncomfortable silence following punchlines, which once was filled with live audience laughter, is such a painful emptiness. Awkward as it has been to watch these brilliant performers adjust to having no audience, it has also kept my faith alive that live performance is irreplaceable, and will return.

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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.

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