Ogemdi Ude to present world premiere of "Cameo"

Ogemdi Ude (photo: Maria Baranova)

Ogemdi Ude's Cameo (WORLD PREMIERE)

April 20-22, 8pm EDT

curated by Eva Yaa Asantewaa for Gibney Presents

Get tickets!

One of Dance Magazine's 25 Artists to Watch, Brooklyn-based dance and interdisciplinary artist Ogemdi Ude brings the world premiere of Cameo to Gibney Center as part of Gibney Presents, Gibney's premier presentation series, offering a rich bend of dance and performance in fully-produced, evening-length commissions.

Cameo is a duet about preserving and losing memories that features a multimedia installation, a live soundscape, and a complex improvised score. In it, Ude and her group of Black femme collaborators engage in an essential Black cultural practice – sharing the stories that make us who we are, even when we have forgotten pieces along the way. Structured as an elaborate memory card game, Cameo challenges the performers’ capacity to process, reinvent, and push forward after facing the obstacle of forgetting in the mind and the body.

Each performance will feature a different pair of artists, giving audiences the opportunity to see the work from different perspectives.

Cameo is choreographed by Ogemdi Ude and performed by Runako Campbell, Selah V. Hampton, and Dava Huesca. Cameo’s rehearsal collaborator is Symara Johnson.

Performer Kayla Farrish receives a 2022 Bessie!

Kayla Farrish

  

Big, big congrats to Kayla Farrish, Bessie recipient for Outstanding Performer!

Kayla Farrish in December 8th by Kayla Farrish in collaboration with Belinda McGuire, the Eva Yaa Asantewaa Solo for Solo Showing at Gibney

"For a tumble and waterfall of physicality and phrasing that at times takes one’s breath away, and at times quickens the blood. Farrish is in full control from start to finish, and is also able to offer vulnerability and heart through her performance."

Some personal news from Eva!

Eva Yaa Asantewaa (Photo: D. Feller)

 

Some personal news...and I’ll try to keep it nice and simple!

In early July, I marked three years of employment with the Gibney organization. Many of you know that, on August 26, I reached my 69th birthday and, from out of the blue, suffered my first panic attack, a severe, terrifying one. On August 31, I resigned my position on Gibney's staff as Senior Director of Curation, effective December 17.  

The reasons behind this professional shift are complex, but it fits my new aim, as I age, to finally pull back and reclaim rest, time and focus for myself and a world of interests beyond the dance field I have served with fierce love for more than 45 years.

Even so--for now, at least--I will continue on as a consultant for Gibney, retaining my role as Founding Director of the Black Diaspora program and Editorial Director of Imagining: A Gibney Journal. Both are relatively young projects, launched during and largely because of this pandemic, and I’m eager to see them develop and flourish.

As for my current curatorial projects–some of which I inherited, some which I created for Gibney--I will support them on staff through December 17. I have been assured that artists and projects I planned for Gibney all the way through July 2023 will be honored and supported by the organization.

So, there you have it!

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Please also read: My Body Wants Something Different for Me Now (June 21, 2021)

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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve, at Gibney, as Senior Director of Curation and Editorial Director. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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My body wants something different for me now.

 

 

My body wants something different for me now.

In August, I will turn 69.

A handful of people have already heard from me that I am retiring from reviewing dance and, indeed, from much engagement with writing about dance, serving on artist selection panels, speaking on panels and similar activities. Some folks have responded with shock or just surprise and sadness, especially to see a Black woman, or any rare person of color, leaving the field of dance criticism and journalism. Others have kindly expressed relief for me and even excitement that, after more than 45 years pursuing this work--I first took dance criticism courses at The New School and Dance Theater Workshop in 1974--I finally feel free to say I’ve done my do, given what I can, and now I’m reclaiming my time.

Like so many others, I have the pandemic of 2020-21 to thank for a radically-altered life.

But, actually, retiring from this work has been on my mind since before I suddenly got hired as Gibney’s curator in July 2018, a life transition that plunged me even deeper into a whole mess of unanticipated things.

However, these drawn-out months away from you all and the live performances I dearly loved have rewired me. On the physical level, I now find myself incapable of staying awake very far into the evening, making even the thought of turning up alert and receptive for night-time shows completely impossible. Seriously, my body rules it out, and I’m not going to fight that body wisdom. I cherish the extra sleep.

And on the mental level, well, my mind seems to be making its selections crystal clear. If something does not spark and hold its interest, engagement is short-lived (or never-lived). That means I might prioritize certain things and let others slide, not always rushing to be there for everything and everyone. No apologies. This is real.

But there’s unexpected fun, too, at this moment. Suddenly and brilliantly, BodyMind has skipped in the direction of healthier (and more colorful and flavorful) eating. Things I somehow just know to throw together work out well and have good health value for me. Intuition kicking in again and right on time. Again, something I’m not going to question--just make more time for and enjoy.

Listening has always been a central part of my spiritual and professional practice (and of my superpowers as an introvert). That continues. Listening to what I need is central to what’s centered. Even the things and spaces I’ve chosen to create for others during this time of uncertainty, anxiety, loss and grief--initiatives such as my Black Diaspora group for rising Black dance and performance artists and the Imagining journal at Gibney; the Black Curators in Dance and Performance group; and my monthly Zoom “séances”--are things and spaces I also happen to need for my own mental and spiritual well-being. As they serve and fulfill their purpose for others, they nourish me. These will continue and flourish. Over the next few years, I will also be shifting the areas of my focus at Gibney to better reflect the community relationships, broader concerns, and activities that matter most to me now.

I have spent decades tending an art discipline that does not get what it needs from this society. Far from it. It needs a ton of care, and working around that can be all-consuming. As I enter my elder years, I choose a wider world and a chance to reclaim some of the things I’ve had to push aside.

I thank everyone for receiving me into the world of dance and for always being, whether you knew it or not, my teachers. You have offered me a way to give back, as a writer, for all the wonder and beauty you sacrifice so much to create. With all the fierce questioning and work being done now towards true justice in the arts, I hope dance artists will also fiercely commit to making dance writing a necessary bridge to the outside world, a tool of witness, clarity of expression, openhearted sharing, much-needed documentation, and acknowledgment. Yes, a force for justice.

Eva Yaa Asantewaa

June 21, 2021

[Note: InfiniteBody will stay up, serving as a space for me to just keep saying whatever I need to say! :-D]

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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve, at Gibney, as Senior Director of Curation and Editorial Director. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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My Curatorial Highlights of 2020

 

 CURATORIAL HIGHLIGHTS 2020

I call on all Black creatives to preserve and tell our own stories.

We must center, treasure and tell our own stories, or others will tell them their own way for their own uses--or refuse to tell them at all.

The comprehensive story of Calendar Year 2020 is a difficult one, and there are different ways I could tell it. This day, though, I wish to acknowledge and celebrate things achieved before and, then, in spite of the pandemic. Things accomplished before and, then, in response to the rise of this year’s anti-racism uprising. Things created in joy and, then, in sorrow, in an effort to keep at least some movement happening at a time of stasis and loss and to build circles of mutual support.


GIBNEY CURATION

Below is just a sample of notable events I curated for the Gibney organization during 2020:

Black Dance Artists on Masculinity, panel moderated by J. Bouey and featuring Du’Bois A’Keen, Thomas F. DeFrantz, Orlando Hunter, Jr. and Ricarrdo Valentine

Soundz at the Back of My Head, premiered by Thomas F. DeFrantz/Slippage, Bessie Award nominee (Quran Karriem) for Outstanding Sound Design/Musical Composition

Afro/Solo/Man, premiered by Brother(hood) Dance! (Orlando Hunter, Jr. and Ricarrdo Valentine), Bessie Award nominee for Outstanding Production and for Outstanding Visual Design (video)

Digital: Unidentified Fly Object (U.F.O) by Tendayi Kuumba with Greg Purnell

Long Tables: Latina/x in Dance and Performance (Alicia Diaz, Mariana Valencia, Yanira Castro, Larissa Velez-Jackson, Beatrice Capote) and Does Dance Matter to America?
(Danni Gee, Brinda Guha, Joya Powell, Ayodele Casel, Maura Nguyen Donohue, Aynsley Vandenbroucke)

Art + Action Artist Talks: Solo for Solo Artists, moderated by myself and featuring Marion Spencer, Darrin Wright, Zui Gomez, Wendell Gray III and Paul Hamilton. Spirituality of the Body, moderated by Charmaine Warren and featuring Laurel Atwell, Shamar Wayne Watt, Ogemdi Ude, and iele paloumpis

Sorry I Missed Your Show: presentations by Tess Dworman, 2020 Bessie Award nominee for Breakout Choreographer; LaJuné MacMillian; Michelle Boulé; Jennifer Nugent; Stefanie Batten Bland

Living Gallery: word-based performances by Linda La Beija; Nia Witherspoon; Melanie Greene; Kayhan Irani; Oceana James

Some of the many artists I met with during this year for consultations or discussions about developing work have included Johnnie Cruise Mercer, Leyya Tawil, zavé martohardjono, Kayla Farrish, Dohee Lee, mayfield brooks, Audre Wirtanen, Colleen Thomas, Olaiya Olayemi, Ahn Vo, Kazu Kumagai and Lisa LaTouche.


CURATING DANCING QUEERLY FESTIVAL

I was delighted to be recommended to the producers of Boston’s annual Dancing Queerly Festival to guest curate a digital evening of video works from New York-based LGBTQ artists. I selected J. Bouey, Ni’Ja Whitson, Maria Bauman-Morales, zavé martohardjono and Brother(hood) Dance! for this well-received program.

In years past, I have also enjoyed curating events for Danspace Project, La MaMa and 92Y Harkness. I'm still eager for independent curatorial or dramaturgical projects--specifically Black- or BIPOC-centered ones. Reach out!

CREATING BLACK DIASPORA

This summer, I started organizing Black Diaspora, my pilot program designed for rising Black artists from a variety of cultural backgrounds and dance/performance techniques and traditions. I invited artists to apply following recommendations from more experienced Black artists in New York's community, and a cohort of eighteen was formed. Since September, sponsored by Gibney, they have met by Zoom to hold conversations on topics of their own choosing. Some of these informal community conversations have been joined by invited artists such as Ayodele Casel, J. Bouey, Jerron Herman, Kayla Hamilton, Ni'Ja Whitson, Raja Feather Kelly and Rokafella and Kwikstep and more are coming in 2021. Participation is free. Recently, I was offered additional funding to curate a series of workshops for the Black Diaspora cohort. These will run from February through June of 2021, facilitated by Cynthia Oliver, Gilbert T. Small II, Paloma McGregor, Nicole Stanton and Bebe Miller. I have invited this first cohort to return for a second fiscal year (September 2021 through June 2022). It is my intention to develop Black Diaspora into a full-featured residency program over the next few years.


LAUNCHING IMAGINING: A GIBNEY JOURNAL

Along with its newly-redesigned website, Gibney now has a bi-monthly online journal--Imagining: A Gibney Journal--which I have edited along with outgoing Curatorial and Editorial Coordinator Dani Cole. (Monica Nyenkan has now joined Gibney in the CEC role and has begun assisting me with Imagining.) Some of the writers engaged in our September and November 2020 issues were Ogemdi Ude, George Emilio Sanchez, Maura Nguyen Donohue, Conrhonda E. Baker and Aynsley Vandenbroucke. We are situated at the intersection of the arts and social justice and seek to make space for underrepresented voices.

CREATING/CURATING THE EVA YAA ASANTEWAA BLACK ARTS LEADERSHIP AWARD (EYABALA)

I have awarded the EYABALA space grant at Gibney--funded through a generous contribution from board member Andrew A. Davis--to nia love, Jerron Herman, David Thomson, and Jordan Demetrius Lloyd. These artists will receive 50 hours of free rehearsal space when studios in both of Gibney’s centers can safely reopen. (UPDATE: Due to an unforeseen scheduling conflict, Jerron Herman had to withdraw from this program. André Zachery has been given this award in his place. And, last but not least, the hours have been increased for all awardees from 50 to a whopping 100!)


ADDITIONAL ACTIVITIES

In November, I convened a new independent group Black Curators in Dance and Performance, two-dozen strong, with a focus on mutual support, creative collaboration and advocacy. We have set January 22 for our third meeting.

The independent Artists and Advocates of Color Collective (AACCollective), which I proposed as a haven and support for BIPOC artists affiliated in any way with Gibney, finally began to take off this year, growing in membership and activity.

I have also had the honor of serving on the 2020 Bessie Awards Steering Committee for a short spell this year and joined some amazing community leaders on the advisory Dance/NYC Symposium Committee in preparation for the upcoming symposium (March 17-19, 2021).


Most of our journeys have been disrupted this year, and I have had to put aside or alter many things planned for this year and the next. But I’m happy to say 2020 still offered good opportunities to stay in motion and strive to make a difference.

Wishing you and yours all the best in 2021!

Eva

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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve, at Gibney, as Senior Director of Artist Development and Curation and Editorial Director. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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"Spirituality of the Body" with Charmaine Warren and guests, December 1

As curator for Gibney’s upcoming Arts + Action Talk: Spirituality of the Body (Tuesday, December 1, 7pm on Zoom), I’m truly excited to hear from a panel of artists whose work illuminates spiritual ideas and values, where the body is the site of spiritual expression and practice. We will welcome Laurel Atwell, Shamar Wayne Watt, Ogemdi Ude, and iele paloumpis, along with moderator Charmaine Warren, for a conversation that I hope will be the first of many--in Gibney’s digital space and beyond--exploring this rich topic. I spoke with Warren--a beloved veteran dancer and creator/host of the popular YouTube series, Black Dance Stories--about her experiences with spirituality and her hopes for the evening’s get-together.

Eva Yaa Asantewaa: How have you experienced dance as a means of expressing or practicing spirituality?

Charmaine Warren:  Many years ago, I was introduced to Ashtanga yoga, and this young dancer would run to a full day of rehearsal after my early morning yoga class. Someone pointed out the difference in my dancing, and then I started to pay attention. The light of acknowledgement doesn't go off right away but, with time, as I grew old and began to "own" my practice, I knew that it was the inner reckoning; my opening to spirit that brought my two loves together. Later, too, learning more about my Jamaican tradition and spirit in the African way has further helped me wake each morning and give time to my own spirit before I share the day with anyone else.

Eva Yaa Asantewaa: As you see it, especially as a dancer, what is spiritual about the body? Or what is the role of embodiment in spiritual practice?

Charmaine Warren:  Again, I have to acknowledge growing older and experiencing life as the answer. I dance now because I feel ready inside, and being ready inside means that I am one with my spirit. I work to be one with those around me before we "move" together. I work to be one with the space that I will "move" in. That may mean holding hands, doing sun salutations or taking time to breath together--and, now, land acknowledgements!

Eva Yaa Asantewaa: What do you hope for this gathering of artists?

Charmaine Warren: Mostly that we have an audience that will be willing to listen, but that we will share tools that we all use to stay connected to spirit during these trying times.

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Come join us!

RSVP now for Arts + Action Talk: Spirituality of the Body here. It’s FREE!

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DISCLAIMER: In addition to my work on InfiniteBody, I serve, at Gibney, as Senior Director of Artist Development and Curation and Editorial Director. The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views, strategies or opinions of Gibney.

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Artists Reach Out: Kara Gilmour

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

Kara Gilmour

Kara Gilmour and son, Abie Temple
(photo: Tim Sternberg)

Kara Gilmour is Gibney's Senior Director of Community Action and Strategic Initiatives. She brings years of experience developing artistic and public programs as well as education and health initiatives. Kara works to develop community engagement strategies crafted through collaboration and anchored in the artistic process. Her work at Gibney focuses on nurturing innovative partnerships with artists, foundations, city agencies, community-based organizations, and collegial institutions. There is a shared goal of integrating art and creativity into civic conversations and public policies to effect social change, as well as providing new avenues for sustainable artistic careers.

Prior to joining Gibney, Ms. Gilmour served in a leadership role at the Brooklyn Bridge Park Conservancy for eight years where she oversaw the development of the Education and Stewardship programs as well as spearheading the Conservancy’s first Capital project. She has also worked with the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation, Applied Research and Consulting, Education Development Center, Lincoln Center Institute, and Planned Parenthood.

As a professional dancer, Kara was a member of Gibney Dance Company (NYC), Compagnie Marie Chouinard (Montreal, QC), and Paula Josa-Jones Performance Works (Boston, MA). She holds a BA from Wesleyan University and attended NYU’s George H. Heyman, Jr. Program for Philanthropy and Fundraising. Kara was selected as a 2016 New York Community Trust Leadership Fellow and a 2017 Advocate of New York City.

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

I feel like everything has been impacted at this point. At Gibney, we have focused on moving programs online which has been successful. That said, there are some programs that will never be the same in digital form, and I am anxious to return to live programming and in-person communication.

I believe that we will collectively emerge from our seclusion with ideas and skills we never could have imagined a few weeks ago. I think that the effects of this time will be a residue that is seen and felt for decades. Without an overt reference, those of us who have lived through this will notice a reference, a framework, a gesture that will evoke a memory of this time of seclusion and isolation. What that will look like, I don't know, but I think that we will all recognize it when we see, hear, and experience it.

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

I started dancing when I was very young at a small studio in Vermont run by a former Broadway dancer named Ilene Blackman. I was lucky to have connected with such a skilled and special teacher in a very rural area. I just spoke with Ilene last week. She has advanced-stage cancer and is at home with hospice care. It is in times like these that it feels more important than ever to reach out to people who have deeply impacted our lives and say thank you. Ilene opened up the world of dance to me. The creativity combined with discipline, the musicality, the need to be present in the moment, the expression and exploration: these all became part of the foundational weave of my childhood and truly impacted my life and who I am today.

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

I try to practice an embodied version of those same foundational principals I learned in dance class so long ago. I have a decades-long yoga practice that grounds me, and I add in elements of strength training to counterbalance it. I also spend as much time as I can outside. As I transitioned out of dance as my primary creative practice, I moved into making things. I sew, I build with wood, I build with stone; I am constantly creating things out of found or repurposed objects. There is a sustained complexity to both dancing and building that intrigues me and continually inspires me.

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

I am outside of the city for this shelter-in period, and I am working on a large, sculptural fence made entirely of twigs and brambles. This "meditation fence" is a good example of my practice. It is environmentally-friendly and composed of all-natural, found objects. It is a big project (spanning over 100 feet at this point) with a functional purpose and a low environmental footprint. It is meditative and physically vigorous all at once. And it is community building. When friends and neighbors walk by, they cannot help but find a twig and then see a place to tuck it in. Similar to walking by a jigsaw puzzle and seeing a piece that fits, there is an innate desire to add to the creation. Thus the project becomes a community engagement tool as well as a utilitarian and artistic object.

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

In many ways, I am at a loss right now. I realize that so much of my practice is grounded in the creation and celebration of community. I prefer to work collaboratively, I build things that are to be used by others, I host people, I am a nurturer. So while on one hand, I love the time with my family and time to create things on my own, on the other hand, there is an underpinning of sadness to my days because I miss working collectively and in partnership with others.

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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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Artists Reach Out: Marion Spencer

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

Marion Spencer

Marion Spencer in Rosalie
(photos: above, Laura Bartczak collaboration,
and below, Whitney Browne)

Marion Spencer is a dancer, choreographer and educator currently based in Brooklyn, NY. Her work has been presented by Danspace Project (DraftWork), Gibney (WorkUp), Brooklyn Studios for Dance, Green Space, Triskelion Arts, Center for Performance Research (Fall Movement), Movement Research at Judson Church, DanceNow NYC, Dance HOLO and the Domestic Performance Agency. Marion is a 2019-2020 season artist at The Chocolate Factory Theater (creative residency, December 2019) and Gibney (Solo for Solo, Spring 2020). She has held residencies at MANA Contemporary, Brooklyn Studios for Dance, Turkeyland Cove Foundation and the Peaceable Barn, among others. Marion’s work is an energetic and tonal collaging--sourcing intuition and imagination, in addition to our very real world. Her dances call for transformation through an undoing of ourselves, inviting us to feel, ask questions, and consider what else, both imaginatively and constructively. As a performer, she currently dances for BAND|portier and Laura Peterson Choreography. Since moving to NYC, Marion has had the pleasure of working with Yackez/Larissa Velez-Jackson, Michelle Boulé, Athena Kokoronis, Shandoah Goldman, Melissa Riker, Annie Kloppenberg, and Shaun Irons & Lauren Petty, among others. In addition to choreographing and performing, she is on faculty at Gibney, Dancewave and Greenwich Country Day Middle and High School. Marion has toured her choreographic work and teaching practice nationally to New Orleans LA, Seattle WA, and Amherst MA. She graduated with honors from Vassar College in 2009 with a BA in Geography-Anthropology. www.marion-spencer.com

Marion Spencer in Rosalie
(photo: Scott Shaw)

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

Yes. I am in process with two creative projects--a solo and a group work--that live in conversation as part of a larger project. My solo has been in process for a little over a year, while the group began working together this past December. The group work is a collaboration with Ogemdi Ude, Symara Johnson, Tara Sheena, s. Lumbert, Kimiko Tanabe and Slowdanger (aka Anna Thompson + Taylor Knight).

The reality of the pandemic necessitates the loss of three performances and two residency periods (thus far). In addition, the week that the pandemic caused New York City to shut down was the first week of my residency at Gibney through the Solo for Solo program, where Darrin Wright and I were to initiate a creative process together through the Spring. I am still not sure if we will be able to reschedule all these lost opportunities. I know that every venue, festival and organization is working hard to figure out how to support artists and their work during this time.

I, personally, am working to sit with the pause that is happening right now and let that be part of my practice--part of the creative process-- and consider that, in and of itself, part of the progress of these projects.

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

I have always loved to dance, and I have always loved to do other things too. I love to sing, I love to be outdoors, gather with people, draw, read, write, take photographs. I love to quietly witness. My parents are both from Latin America--Caracas, Venezuela and Balboa, Panama--and they are archaeologists who primarily work in southern Mexico. So I was raised in many places.

I developed a practice of quiet witnessing and a wild imagination--in the back of a car driving for hours through rural Oaxaca, playing in the dirt at an archaeological site all day, so many airports and so many airplane rides to visit family. I loved listening to books on tape, I loved the memory game, I loved staring out the window, looking at the sky, and dreaming. I still do that. I'm doing that now as I write this.

I see dancing and making dances as a way to dream, to make dreams alive, and to invite others to witness your imagination. I see my makings right now as an invitation into a world, an environment, a journey, that hopefully the performer and witness go through together. That might be an aspect of what excites me about this new world we find ourselves in--the possibility of building an environment and a world in your own intimate space and sharing that with others so easily.

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

I am practicing singing. I have been vocalizing as part of my practice for several years, and I just started weekly voice lessons with an incredible performer and composer in our community, and it feels important to be a student and be learning right now. I am practicing dancing and taking class as often as I can. I am practicing conversation with mentors and teachers every week. The connections with community and commitment to learning and curiosity feels like an important part of my practice right now.

I am practicing being, rather than doing--which has been part of my process for the last year thanks to lessons from Michelle Boulé, Marion Woodman and studies in Conscious Femininity, and also it has never held more weight than it does now. I am practicing listening. I am trying to let this time of slowness be part of my practice. It is opening up spaces in my imagination, it is offering me the opportunity to dream again. Instead of seeing limitations, I am starting to see possibilities. That is exciting.

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

What I care most about right now is that we get through this with as few losses as possible. What I care most about is that my parents stay alive and well, that my family in Caracas don’t have to go to the hospitals there that were completely nonfunctional and chaotic before the pandemic began, so I can't even imagine what they will be like when this hits hard there.

What I care most about is that I do all the practices to ensure that I don’t unknowingly carry this to another person in my home, neighborhood or community. And, I care greatly about our dance community. I want artists to make it through this. I want us to have spaces to return to after this is over. I want to be part of working towards that.

It has been a gift to be part of conversations happening right now in our community about care and about action, and I am excited to continue putting my energy towards that. I want as few losses as possible, and also as many disruptions and transformations to the broken system we found ourselves in, as possible. The world we return to after this will never be the same. I’m wondering how we can see the possibilities in that.

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

I have always been called to home and to making art at home. AND, I hadn’t really been doing much of that since moving to New York City. Before this pandemic, my home space was a space of rest, of sanctuary, of returning from work, making dinner, spending time with my housemates (two dear old friends who are NOT dancers), resting and sleeping.

In former homes of mine--New Orleans, for example--I had a strong creative and embodied practice at home, my home was also my canvas. Since moving to NYC, my work as an artist has been full time, and I leave home to do it, and then I come home to rest.

This pandemic has necessitated a shift. I have moved all of the furniture out of my bedroom to make it a space to move in, teach dance classes in, rehearse in, dream in, lay on the floor in. I am practicing moving my practice into my home space, allowing imagination and dreaming to open up for me at home. I had created a boundary between work and home, and that is becoming blurry now in a way that is exciting--and, to be honest, also exhausting. I need a day off. I need rest. I need to redefine my boundaries, that's for sure.

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

I have a regular practice of taking baths. That is no exception now. Sitting submerged in hot water calms me down, slows me down, brings me into my body, to be held by my element. I’m needing self care practices like this right now. Full disclosure: my biggest guilty pleasure is to take a bath in the morning.

During this time, I have been trying to offer and remain active in my care of my home and household, my family, my community and myself. AND, I am trying to embrace this pause. I had a call with my collaborators last week to check in + discuss, dream and scheme how to move forward with virtual collaborations this spring, and as part of this conversation dear friend/collaborator Ogemdi Ude said, ‘I wish for every artist to take a nap every day until this is over.’  Can that be part of my practice right now? Can that be part of my progress right now? I’m listening.

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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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It's also okay to take time to grieve.

Eva Yaa Asantewaa

It's also okay to take time to grieve.

by Eva Yaa Asantewaa, InfiniteBody


Hey, friend! How are you doing? How are you faring in this new reality?

Me? It's different from moment to moment, day to day. And that's the way I've learned to take it. Because that's the only way it's going to work. The information and guidelines and rules we're getting evolve as this coronavirus pandemic sweeps across the world, our state and our city, and we inch along towards an unknown future. We're all trying to do our best.

Well, some of us, actually, are doing our usual. Which is not helpful. It's a time for responsibility. And I'm livin' in the USA where gun sales are rising and young people have to be forced to stay away from bars.

Anyway, my fellow Americans, my fellow New Yorkers, my fellow arts folks, here's where we find ourselves.

Lord love us, the virus struck, our daily habits and plans and expectations got shut down but--damnit!--we got busy. Right away!

We've now put a flood of videos and livestreams out with everything from opera performances to yoga and meditation and cooking classes to art museum tours. Oh, thank goodness we've got the Internet and social media and the same electronic devices we'd just spent months and months complaining about and trying to spend more time away from so we could have authentic experiences with our loved ones IRL.

Now, we're finally making good on those old resolutions to study French or learn to knit or...I don't know...maybe master brain surgery on YouTube. And there's just so much out there to dig into while we wait for the world to turn right-side up again (or what we thought was right-side up...that's debatable).

There's more and more and more online content every day for the stuck-at-home. I've got friends and colleagues busy making some of it. And even this blog post! Because we're resilient, we're creative, we want to keep active before we lose our natural minds. It's really fantastic, isn't it?

It's also exhausting.

All the time in the world now to catch up with the tons of unread books I have here, the millions of unread articles I have saved in the Pocket app, the podcasts people keep telling me I have to hear, my Netflix list, my bag of knitting supplies, my personal writing, the two free Coursera courses I've just signed up for and--Godx, help me--my lifelong practice of introversion. And yet....

I can't. Anyone else feel me on this? I just can't.

I wish I could put this enforced isolation time to good use. But....

It even took me a while to realize I could write a post like this to share with you how I'm feeling.

Because we're supposed to spring into action as if nothing, absolutely nothing could ever slow us down.

We're Americans, damn it!

We're New Yorkers, damn it!

We got through 9/11 together, and we'll power through this trauma.

And I actually think, as much as artists and folks who work with artists--particularly dance artists--are marginalized in this society, most of us have a keen sense of responsibility to community and world, a sense of generosity and mission, that moves us to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, start all over again. Right away!

I'm here to admit I'm both feeling it (that natural urge) and not feeling it.

I'm leaning in...and swerving away.

And, yeah, all of the labor I normally do (and dearly love) is dependent upon either:

1) getting wonderful artists into spaces where they will perform live in front of, I hope, densely-packed audiences (curation)

2) attending and reporting on live performances amid often densely-packed audiences (dance writing).

So, right. I've got lots of new time on my hands. But my proudest achievements, lately, involved strategic grocery shopping and the complete reorganization (and subsequent re-stuffing) of my pantry.

My newly-unfolding Spring season at Gibney is in tatters; my calendar for other New York City happenings is suddenly wiped cleaner than a subway pole first thing on a March morning. And I miss every one of you I used to encounter all the time on my sidewalk, in the lobbies and aisles of performance venues, in the corridors and studios of my workplace.

I miss you. I'm grieving. It's okay to take time to grieve a little. It's okay to take a look around and realize you don't know what to do next. You just don't know what to do. You feel overwhelmed and helpless in the face of unimaginable uncertainty. And you're no expert on any of this.

Take even just a minute. You can spare a minute.

2020. Remember when we thought this was a fresh new year with a cute name? Little did we know it was coming for us. Threatening our health, our businesses, our incomes, our socializing, our freedom to greet one another with a warm hug in the time-honored manner.

Last night, when I couldn't even relax with a Met Opera video (free!) because, I guess, the system wasn't strong enough for all the new demand on it, I threw in the towel. I went to bed, read a little, went to sleep. Sleep is also free and, occasionally, you feel refreshed when you wake up from it.

Lately, waking up from it has also been a proud achievement.

Productivity is as American (and as capitalist) as apple pie. And this Virgo, of course, would love to feel useful and productive. This blog post is actually a tilt in that direction. Look, I'm communicating with you again! But what I'm communicating is about making space for my feelings--and yours. I hope you can feel it's okay to do the same.

Take good care of yourself and all who are precious to you and a comfort to you in this difficult moment. I send much love and wishes for your safety and well-being!

Eva

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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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I made the news!

Excited and pleased to share THIS!

At Gibney, a New Curatorial Director Makes a Revolution

Eva Yaa Asantewaa takes what she’s learned from a career in writing and puts it on the dance stage.

by Gia Kourlas, The New York Times, September 24, 2019


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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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The Bessies: Announcing winners and October's nominees

Celebrating 35 extraordinary years, The New York Dance and Performance Awards (The Bessies) organization held its annual reception and press conference yesterday at Gibney. With community luminaries pressed into Gibney's theater at 280 Broadway, the event was so buoyed with feeling that time-conscious announcers repeatedly (sometimes hilariously) cautioned the assembled to wait for all category nominees to be named before applauding. Still and all, we whooped and hollered for each of our faves, proving that nothing can hold back this dance/performance community!

Plan to be at the legendary award ceremony itself on Monday, October 14 at NYU Skirball Center. In the meantime, here's what you need to know about the announced awards and exciting nominations.

2019 Juried Bessie Award

(Jury: Carlota Santana, Pam Tanowitz and Abby Zbikowski)

Alice Sheppard

for boldly and authentically inventing new movement vocabularies full of supercharged physicality and nuanced detail. Working with gravity, mechanics, human connection, and momentum, she creates work of power and empowerment.

2019 Outstanding Breakout Choreographer Award 

Daina Ashbee

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The 2019 Bessie Awards Nominations

Outstanding Production

600 HIGHWAYMEN
The Fever
Co-presented by La MaMa, The Public Theater, and Onassis USA

Kyle Abraham
The Runaway
New York City Ballet
David H. Koch Theater

Nick Cave
The Let Go
Park Avenue Armory

Nora Chipaumire
#Punk 100% POP* N!GGA
The Kitchen

Merce Cunningham with stager Patricia Lent
Night of 100 Solos: A Centennial Event
BAM Opera House

Tania El Khoury
As Far As My Fingertips Take Me
Under the Radar/The Public Theater

Juliana F. May
Folk Incest
Abrons Arts Center and American Realness

Alexei Ratmansky
The Seasons 
American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House

Royal Osiris Karaoke Ensemble (ROKE)
The Art of Luv (Part 6): Awesome Grotto!
Abrons Arts Center

Caleb Teicher
More Forever
Guggenheim Works & Process

Noa Wertheim
One. One & One
Vertigo Dance Company
Baryshnikov Arts Center

Ni'ja Whitson
Oba Qween Baba King Baba
Co-commissioned by Danspace Project and Abrons Arts Center

Outstanding Performer

Xianix Barrera
in Latido by Xianix Barrera
Emerging Choreographers Series at LaGuardia Performing Arts Center

Warren Craft
in Harlequin and Pantalone by Bill Irwin
Dorrance Dance
New York City Center

Leslie Cuyjet
Sustained Achievement with Jane Comfort, Niall Jones, Juliana F. May, Cynthia Oliver, and Will Rawls

Kirsten Davis
in Oba Qween Baba King Baba by Ni’Ja Whitson
Co-commissioned by Danspace Project and Abrons Arts Center

Gabrielle Hamilton
in Oklahoma! choreographed by John Heginbotham
St. Ann’s Warehouse

Samantha Hines
in Attractor by Dancenorth Australia, Lucy Guerin Inc., Gideon Obarzanek, and Senyawa
The Joyce Theater

Tiler Peck
Sustained Achievement with New York City Ballet

Molly Poerstal
Sustained Achievement with Hilary Clark, David Dorfman, Jeanine Durning, Alex Escalante, Juliana F. May, Susan Rethorst, Roseanne Spradlin, and Larissa Velez-Jackson

Nola Sporn Smith
in metamorphosis by Stacy Grossfield
The Kitchen, Dance and Process

Taylor Stanley
in The Runaway by Kyle Abraham
New York City Ballet
David H. Koch Theater

Shamar Watt
Sustained Achievement in the work of Nora Chipaumire

Takaomi Yoshino (aka Varvara Laptopova)
in ChopEniana by Alexandre Minz
Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo
The Joyce Theater

Outstanding Revival

Deuce Coupe
By Twyla Tharp
American Ballet Theatre
Metropolitan Opera House

Hex
By Eleo Pomare, performed by Dyane Harvey
American Dance Guild Performance Festival, Ailey Citigroup Theater

Judson Dance Theater: The Work is Never Done
By Yvonne Rainer, Deborah Hay, Lucinda Childs, David Gordon, Steve Paxton, Trisha Brown, Simone Forti
Museum of Modern Art

Outstanding Sound Design/Musical Composition

Joseph Kubera and Adam Tendler for interpretation of music of Julius Eastman, and M. Lamar for original composition inspired by Eastman
for Rambler, Worlds Worlds A Part by Kathy Westwater
New York Live Arts

Leyya Mona Tawil
for Future Faith by Lime Rickey International
Abrons Arts Center

Conrad Tao and Caleb Teicher
for More Forever by Caleb Teicher
Guggenheim Works & Process

Outstanding Visual Design

Design Team: Tei Blow, Sean McElroy, Eben Hoffer, and Hyung Seok Jeon for The Art of Luv (Part 6): Awesome Grotto! by Royal Osiris Karaoke Ensemble (ROKE). Abrons Arts Center

Design Team: Jeanne Medina and Ni’ja Whitson (Costumes), Gil Sperling, featuring art works by Wangech Mutu and Galvin Jantejes (Video), and Tuçe Yasak (Lighting) for Oba Qween Baba King Baba by Ni’Ja Whitson. Co-commissioned by Danspace Project and Abrons Arts Center

Mirella Weingarten (Set Design) for Xenos by Akram Khan. Lincoln Center’s White Light Festival at Rose Theater

Outstanding Breakout Choreographer

(* indicates award recipient)

Daina Ashbee*
Jonathan González
Stacy Grossfield
Caleb Teicher

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The 2019 Bessie Awards Steering Committee, responsible for setting policy and providing oversight for the Bessie Awards throughout the year, is comprised of Cora Cahan, Beverly D’Anne, Jeanne Linnes, Stanford Makishi, Nicky Paraiso, Carla Peterson, Gus Solomons jr, Paz Tanjuaquio, Judy Hussie-Taylor, Laurie Uprichard, and Martin Wechsler.

The 2018–2019 Bessie Awards Selection Committee: Ronald Alexander, Elise Bernhardt, Charles Vincent Burwell, Diana Byer, Tymberly Canale, Alexis Convento, Parijat Desai, Maura Donohue, Boo Froebel, Angela Fatou Gittens, Diane Grumet, Brinda Guha, Joseph Hall, Mai Lê Hô, Iréne Hultman, Celia Ipiotis, Koosil-ja, Fernando Maneca, Lydia Mokdessi, Harold Norris, Craig Peterson, Doug Post, Rajika Puri, Tiffany Rea-Fisher, Susan Reiter, Walter Rutledge, George Emilio Sanchez, Andrea Snyder, Sally Sommer, Risa Steinberg, Carrie Stern, Catherine Tharin, Tony Waag, and William Whitener.

ABOUT THE BESSIES

The NY Dance and Performance Awards have saluted outstanding and groundbreaking creative work in the dance field in New York City for 35 years. Known as “The Bessies” in honor of revered dance teacher Bessie Schönberg, the awards were established in 1984 by David R. White at Dance Theater Workshop. They recognize outstanding work in choreography, performance, music composition, and visual design. Nominees are chosen by a selection committee composed of artists, presenters, producers, and writers. All those working in the dance field are invited to join the NY Dance and Performance League as members and participate in annual discussions on the direction of the awards and nominate members to serve on the selection committee. For more information about The Bessies, visit www.bessies.org.

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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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This Black Earth: jumatatu m. poe at GIBNEY

jumatatu m. poe
(photo courtesy of the artist)

Inspired by the hot brown granules in both desert dirt and beach sand, terrestrial is an examination of humans as earth and Black humans as having a long, continuing terrestrial history that far precedes—and will outlive—the past five centuries of white supremacy’s specific oppressions. From beneath packed ground, vocal composition and choreography are unearthed to magnify the epic truthsliesfantasiesmemoriesdreams underneath the hot brown skin tones of the performers.

--from promotion for terrestrial, a work by jumatatu m. poe

Curated by dance artist Marýa Wethers, Gathering Place: Black Queer Land(ing) continues at the Lab at GIBNEY this week with, terrestrial, a three-hour performance installation by jumatatu m. poe. Between 6pm and 9pm, audience members may come and go throughout the performance, but the door only opens for these transitions at 15-minute intervals. The Lab is also known as Studio A, the lobby-level sliver of space in which GIBNEY has often programmed intimate performances. Capacity is quite limited, and most seating is floorbound around the perimeter with just a few chairs available.

terrestrial's floor is covered in rumpled cloth that can slip under dancers' bare feet--and your feet, too, as you approach or leave your spot; take care. Once, I saw poe deftly catch and right his balance; at another moment, dancer Samantha Speis deliberately played with that slipperiness. This shifting surface is, I think, important to one's experience and understanding. A changing terrain can be treacherous and/or an opportunity to be shaped by one's intelligence and desire.

In any case, the mobile cloth is a marvelous sculptural element in poe's installation. Embedded in it are five round mounds of what appears to be rock salt the light olive-green of peridots, gemstones associated with ancient Egypt, the strength of the Sun and the banishment of toxicity. Interestingly, while I was there at least, none of the dancers' or viewers' movements disturbed these carefully-tended mounds. Even when Speis briefly rested her hands atop one hillock's curve, only a few crystals escaped their circle.

poe, Speis and Brazilian vocalist Rodrigo Jerônimo--who also moves while the other two also often vocalize--perform essentially naked except for scanty, clear plastic wrappings. The wrap around poe's neck rustles as he moves and quickly brings to mind the situation of a creature stuck in a discarded shopping bag.

For the most part, the three did not directly interact--at least, during the time I watched--as they trod and plodded along individual pathways. Their often restrained, internalized, localized movements betrayed a condition of being limited in available space, though occasionally fighting that limitation (Speis's sudden agitation, arms and long dreadlocks flying, for instance). Their eyes looked sightless and strange; red contact lenses?

Their voices expressed bodily experience with gruff, primal directness, but they did not "speak" to or with one another. Land masses unto themselves, then?

In one passage, as performers curled up on the floor, maybe dreaming what would come next, the space erupted in an extended crescendo of Black vocalists--most, perhaps not all, women. The editing here is incredible, as if rapidly switching among a host of radio channels to capture dozens of these voices trilling, soaring, swooping, ululating and keening, each caught at the choice moment. (And, yeah, some of you might play a mental game of "Name That Tune.") There's no specific credit given for this brilliant, spine-tingling collage; I'm assuming that poe created it. Tayarisha Poe is credited with the elusive, splintered video design, and Asami Morita contributed delicate, alluring light effects.

One final note about this GIBNEY presentation:

While poe granted permission for terrestrial to be reviewed, he does not consider it to be a finished piece but, rather, an ongoing process of discovery.

terrestrial continues tonight, starting at 6pm, and will conclude tomorrow, Saturday, also starting at 6pm. Tomorrow's performance will be preceded by a 4:30 talk. For Friday ticket information, click here. Advance tickets for Saturday are sold out; for wait list information, click here.

Gathering Place: Black Queer Land(ing) concludes with performances by I Moving Lab (Apr 26–28). For information and tickets, click here.

GIBNEY
280 Broadway (enter at 53A Chambers Street), Manhattan
Subways: 4/5/6 to Brooklyn Bridge-City Hall; N/R/W to City Hall; 2/3 to Park Place

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mayfield brooks: improvising while Black at GIBNEY

mayfield brooks
(photo: Amar Puri)

I spent some time this week drifting back into that intriguing realm that Reggie Wilson's Danspace Project platform opened a few weeks ago (Dancing Platform Praying Grounds: Blackness, Churches, and Downtown Dance). Back with native people of stolen lands and enslaved people of the Middle Passage, back beneath the physical and psychic layers that make up present day Manhattan--this time, though, instigated and guided by mayfield brooks who calls her/their dance practice Improvising While Black.

With the three-part IWB: Dancing in the Hold, brooks opened a new series at GIBNEY called Gathering Place: Black Queer Land(ing), curated by Marýa Wethers as a place of "intersection among blackness, queerness and indigeneity." This series will continue with performances by jumatatu m. poe (Apr 19–21) and I Moving Lab (Apr 26–28).

The design of brooks's IWB: Dancing in the Hold breaks the framework for presentation. It is not one thing; it is different things. People gather not to just watch people do stuff but possibly do stuff themselves. Anything originally planned for one point in time might easily show up in another. And we all bring ourselves to it because it can't exist without us. In essence, this truly is Black space.

IWB: Dancing in the Hold is a performance in three parts investigating mayfield brooks’ ongoing project, Improvising While Black (IWB), which uses dance improvisation as a tool to create atmospheres of care and inquiry while listening to ancestral whispers of the middle passage.

Part I, P(a)rLAY, is an invitation to Black-identified artists to participate in an improvisational dance workshop and performance exploring IWB’s improvisatory techniques including speaking in tongues, wandering practices, somatic awakenings and partner work.

Part II, Dancing in the Hold, is an evening-length performance exploring underwater textures like shipwrecks and contaminated seaweed while embracing Black queer ancestors, Black rage, brilliance and joy.

Part III, Process(Ion), is a durational performance installation exploring gestures of Black revolt, poetics of oceanic abyss, spontaneous readings of Afropessimist scholarly texts and a procession to the African Burial Ground in Lower Manhattan.

P(a)rLAY was my second time taking a workshop with brooks--the first, hosted by Movement Research at Abrons Arts Center. Once again, I was amazed by how one gifted teacher's gentle invitations can quickly lead to profound revelations.

brooks has been spending time visiting, contemplating and drawing inspiration from the nearby African Burial Ground memorial. We visited as well, on a windy late afternoon, the twelve of us, and took away impressions for the work we would do together back in the Black Box studio. We also wrote letters to ancestors known and unknown, and learned meaningful things in the writing that perhaps we would never have attained any other way.

I will not be able to attend the durational event, Part III, tomorrow. However, I did return to GIBNEY's Black Box last night for Part II, Dancing in the Hold. I witnessed the entirety of it through a shroud of silver. Because I was a spirit. Because brooks asked nicely. Because two of us from the P(a)rLAY workshop showed up/said yes. So, into the depths where inky dark and screams and whimpers are broken by bioluminescence. Where a switched-on, unrestrained brooks is joined in liberation by South Africa's outstanding Mlondi Zondi.

It's late in the day now, but tickets might remain for tonight's show. Try for them!

For information and tickets for mayfield brooks's events tonight and tomorrow, click here. For information, tickets and series passes for Gathering Place: Black Queer Land(ing), click here.

GIBNEY
280 Broadway (enter at 53A Chambers Street), Manhattan
Subways: 4/5/6 to Brooklyn Bridge-City Hall; N/R/W to City Hall; 2/3 to Park Place

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