Artists Reach Out: Ananya Chatterjea

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

Ananya Chatterjea

Ananya Chatterjea
(photo courtesy of Ananya Dance Theatre;
by Laichee Yang)

Ananya Chatterjea in Mohona (2013)
(photo courtesy of Ananya Dance Theatre,
by Paul Virtucio)

Ananya Chatterjea’s work as choreographer, dancer, and thinker brings together Contemporary Dance, social justice choreography, and a philosophy of #occupydance. She is artistic director of Ananya Dance Theatre, a Twin Cities-based professional dance company of women and femme artists of color, and co-founder of the Shawngrām Institute for Performance and Social Justice. Her “people-powered dances of transformation” proceed through concert performances and participatory performances in non-traditional spaces where audiences become co-creators of movement explorations.

Ananya received a 2011 Guggenheim Choreography Fellowship, 2012 McKnight Choreography Fellowship, 2015 Sage Outstanding Dance Educator Award, 2016 Joyce Foundation Award, 2018 Urban Bush Women Choreographic Fellowship, and a 2019 Dance/USA Artist Fellowship. Her work has been recognized for its delivery of “political theater” with seldom-matched “level of commitment and charisma” (City Pages, 9/18/19). Chatterjea is currently creating Dastak, a dance-theater work exploring borders, boundaries, home and belonging, with the support of an NPN Creation Fund, NDP Production Award, and a two-part MANCC Residency.

Ananya Chatterjea in Trikone,opening performance at Ocean Dance Festival,
Coxs Bazar, Bangladesh
(photo: ©Asif Muhammed Musaddeque, 2019)

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

I was creating a new work about borders, home, and belonging, an ambitious, interdisciplinary project. The creative process, where we were joined by the fabulous Sharon Bridgforth (dramaturg) and guest artist Spirit McIntyre, was roaring along. This rich collaborative time was abruptly halted by the virus. The premiere was originally scheduled for September 2020, and we had a great touring circuit set up. All of that now hangs at the mercy of this virus’ wrath.

There are other projects, one in collaboration with the Minneapolis Institute of the Arts for instance, that I was looking forward to (April-May). Now, I have no idea what will happen to these. We have been able to keep our artists on salary as was scheduled from April, but if the work does not premiere in September, I do not know what we will do. Also, my work thrives on energetic connection with the audience, and builds in engagement with audiences, so the idea of sharing the work via live streaming is difficult.

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

My mother, who grew up through the anti-colonial struggles in India and could not fulfill her dream to learn dance, introduced me to the art. As I grew up, I fell in love with dance, and had the opportunity to study with some amazing gurus. Yet, all around me were the women’s movement, movements demanding caste/class justice, and political street theater critiquing state violences. They pulled me away from my training in classical and folk dance forms and pushed me into an investigation of what social justice choreography might be.

Reflecting on my practice today, I can say that my commitment to social justice taught me choreographic finesse and pushed me to create a feminist, contemporary dance vocabulary from my training in Odissi, Mayurbhanj Chhau, and Vinyasa yoga. Today, my practice is moved by the brilliant ways in which Black and brown women and femmes forge liberation and joy.

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

At this time, more than ever, I am practicing dance as lifeforce and as articulation of spirit. I am trying to prepare my body externally (through different kinds of physical training) and internally (through spiritual work) to be strong and in community, so dance can resist the new waves of capitalist co-optation that are following this pandemic.

I am acknowledging that the ensemble practice of rhythmic cycles cannot be adequately supported by Zoom transmissions: the time lag disappoints our hearts repeatedly. So when we prepare to build this devastated field back up again, what will we make sure to attend to?

I am paying attention to how the pandemic has intensified existing injustices. I am witnessing images of energetic engagement--nurses standing still in the midst of angry protesters in Colorado, of a 12-year-old girl walking 150 km to get home only to die of exhaustion in Chhattisgarh--and reflecting deeply on transformation. I am asking myself, how will I dance differently now?

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

I care about dance for life’s sake, for the crossing of power and poetry, and to share rhythm, space, and vision, with my comrades. I am even more convinced that dancing that works through energetic connections, fine rhythmic intersections, and communications from the tips of our fingers and our eyes, will always be failed by neat rectangular boxes of visuality.

So, if there are limited or no occasions to share dancing with live audiences until 2022, how can I ready myself for that moment? What stories, what dark recesses and failures, what journeys towards light, can we uphold with utmost care at that time? Living through this pandemic and re-understanding the privileges of water, soap, Internet, space, is helping me chisel my choreographic craft and consider carefully the labor of carving and nurturing space of dancing stories that will be urgent at that re-convening.

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

There is dancing that flows through huge amounts of space. There is dancing that roots down and works details in groundedness. Might there be equity in taking up just the amount of space that is necessary to articulate an idea? Might there be lessons of generosity and equity in refusing to participate in the games of social media popularity?

The stillness and attention to detail we practice now will deepen our resilience for the time when we, dancers, will become part of the “essential workers” team and are needed to sprout hope and advocate for justice in our communities.

The work that I was creating has already taken on several more dimensions through this time. I can only do them justice if I remain quiet right now, listening and expanding my capacity to dance them simultaneously and intersectionally.

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

Gratitude is a practice.

There are lessons in the abundance of sunlight.

If I shift the focus of footwork practice to engaging the pelvic floor deeply, then I chisel one skill AND protect my knees instead of not practicing footwork due to an unsuitable floor.

******

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: Brinda Guha

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

Brinda Guha

Brinda Guha
(photo courtesy of the artist)

Brinda Guha is a trained Indian Classical Kathak dancer for over 20 years and has traveled throughout USA and to India, England, and Spain to perform. During training and performing for years in classical Indian dance, as well as Flamenco and Contemporary Fusion styles, she opened Kalamandir Dance Company in 2010 and founded the rich movement coined as #ContemporaryIndian. Since then, Brinda choreographed for the North American Bengali Conference at Madison Square Garden and self-produced and choreographed her original dance production entitled one to(o) many colors. Now, she is represented by CESD Talent Agency and is pursuing artistic direction and arts education. She spent most of 2015/16 collaborating with NYC-based interdisciplinary artists. Brinda also dances with dynamic percussive trio Soles of Duende, featuring Flamenco (Arielle Rosales), Tap (Amanda Castro), and Kathak (Guha). Her ultimate dream of having art meet activism was realized when she created a seasonal benefit in 2017 for Planned Parenthood & survivors of domestic violence called WISE FRUIT. Wise Fruit NYC has implemented nine NYC live art installations and is expanding to a Nashville edition ("Wise Fruit 1.0: Plant the Seed" in 2020). For her day job, she works as an arts administrator for a dance service organization based in the values of justice, equity & inclusion: Dance/NYC.

Brinda Guha
(photos: above, LVDF;
below, Corey Rives)

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

I think about how this industry wasn't designed to take care of us, truly --because there wasn't a contingency plan in place for us to consider what we deserved before we needed it. We wake up one morning, and our two-year project plan is shot?

Thank goodness for institutions that still support the artists financially during this kind of cancellation, but sheesh, what about the work? Why does our industry settle with the uncertainty of it all?

Rise and shine, your income is on hold until further notice, and here's the link to go help yourself. If you get sick...good thing you're in shape--your chances are pretty good! WHAT?! No, thanks. I'm merely mortal: I'd like some more reassurance than that.

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

I am a classical and contemporary Indian dancer rooted in the vocabulary and aesthetics of Kathak dance. I have training in various additional practices, including Manipuri, Flamenco, Contemporary, and Urban movement.

My practice has evolved with me over the years. I find myself returning “home” with time. As of now, I am more in a space of celebrating the #femininedivine in movement, art and activism. Understanding how and where we can return to the world led by women or the feminine spirit that exists in us all (because it is where we came from) is important to me. I began my professional practice in New York City fresh out of undergraduate studies at New York University, but I have discovered new spaces of artistic expression over the last nine years. During this time, I've worked consistently in arts administration, education, performance, collaboration, curation, and freelance practices.

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

In the arts, I envision a future of compassion and empathy fostered for communities unseen, unheard and misunderstood. I envision a resilience so deep that we are able to decolonize ourselves. It starts with self, and so movement is a beautiful way to try.

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

Today, I only have the love of movement, the love of my partner, the love of food and cooking, the gratitude for a part-time job that serves, and my vivid memories and reflections of what I was told about me vs. my truths (overlap included). I only have time to fester about it because the type-A personality I was told I had can’t find any short-term and immediate solutions, so my anxiety goes into full-throttle mode while she waits for an answer. I think about all my regrets and all my hopes at the same time but in a weird cycle that makes no chronological sense. Rinse and repeat.

Nevertheless, the ultimate irony is that movement is how we return home to check in, to see what's working and what isn't. It is how we journal. We were called to this work, to this practice, to this riyaaz, to this kind of meditation and creativity, for better or worse. It's how we process this confusion. It's how we arrive at the ultimate conclusion that all we have to do is to give into this moment so that we can be born again.

In times of isolation, I feel fear, anxiety, compassion, and so much [abundant] love--love for what I already have, and love for what I so clearly want moving forward.

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

As far as Indian dance goes--what am I supposed to do?! I'm always conflicted these days. So much of India is in shambles. It has become a political space of division and violence under the guise of secular superiority. It feels almost silly to pursue “Indian” dance or dive deeper into the origins of Hindu mythology when Hinduism is being used to kill each and every day in my parents' motherland.

But then I return to the #femininedivine in this practice:

• Ma Kali had dark skin and a fearless tongue.

• Ma Durga held the weight of the world in ten arms.

• Hajar never forgot about what's best for her son.

• surat al Nisa, the chapter on Women--the Qur'an's largest chapter--weaves together vignettes of feminine resilience. 

When we return home to the #femininedivine, our practice makes sense again. It's important to me now, in context of our political sphere, to consider my practice a part of the broader South Asian experience, and not the "Indian" experience. At least not right now. The unity and understanding among my fellow brown-skinned folks is far more important to me now than any religious connotations or personal familial anecdotes or political justifications.

In times of isolation, I reflect on my roots, and my longing for effective communication. How many of us women of color have been told who we are already? Part of it is true, so it's all quite confusing. "Your brother was this type, you were more this type". Actually, I wish I said, I was a few different things and so was he. But maybe it didn't fit into the box that made sense for you. Maybe the scope was too large to grasp, so we simplified it. Maybe in a white world that keeps telling you that you’re a visitor, we held onto those labels to merely have something to hold onto: as women, as brown, as queer, as an artist, as a musician, as displaced, as "eclectic," as "exotic," as "cultural," as...uh oh, the labels are back....

******

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: Sloka Iyengar

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

Sloka Iyengar

Sloka Iyengar
(photo courtesy of the artist)

Sloka Iyengar PhD, PMP is a neuroscientist and dancer passionate about using her science and dance training for public good. Born and raised in Ahmedabad, India, Sloka worked at a shelter for stray animals after her undergraduate studies in pharmacy. For her graduate and postdoctoral work, Sloka explored mechanisms of seizure generation. More recently, projects have been in the private and the nonprofit sectors. Sloka is involved in neuroscience outreach and advocacy. She has visited Capitol Hill several times to lobby elected officials for basic neuroscience funding. As an educator, she has developed curricula and taught neuroscience and forensic science to middle-school and high-school students. Presently, she teaches neuroscience and evolution to educators at the American Museum of Natural History. She developed the Basic Science section of www.epilepsy.com to communicate advances in basic epilepsy research to patients and caregivers globally.

Sloka is a professional dancer and performer of the classical Indian dance form known as Bharatanatyam. She teaches dance and has started a program to bring dance to residents of New York City nursing homes. Passionate about combining the arts and sciences, Sloka has developed Neuronatyam--a production to explore dance through the lens of neuroscience. You can find out more about her at www.slokaiyengar.net.

Sloka Iyengar
(photo: Michael Tanksley)

Iyengar teaches dissection to high school students
(photo: Stefin Woolever)

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

Yes. I was scheduled to perform Neuronatyam--a piece exploring themes of movement, rhythm, and emotions from the lens of neuroscience. This piece brings together my two passions (and professions): dance and neuroscience. The original intent was to perform the piece as part of Brain Awareness Week on March 20th but, of course, it was canceled due to the pandemic. A few themes that I wanted to explore are: how the brain enables movement, how the brain can perceive rhythm, and why storytelling can be so moving.

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

I have been dancing for a very long time now! I started dancing at age 5 in India, thanks to my mother. She was a vocalist herself and had a deep interest in anything related to dance. Bharatanatyam--the classical indian dance form that I practice--has always been part of my life. I performed my debut recital (called Arengetram) at 13 and stayed on with my gurus to learn dance pedagogy and practice and theory of dance. After I came to the US for my PhD and postdoctoral work,  I stopped dancing for what seems now an eternity (but was only seven years), and picked it back up in 2012. Since then, I have been performing, practicing, teaching, and choreographing in and around New York City.

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

Bharatanatayam is exceptionally versatile in that it has a broad vocabulary of movements, expression, and language that can be used to tell a variety of stories and convey a broad array of messages. While there are lovely themes of devotion in the dance form, I have been trying to experiment with two themes as follows: 1) an exploration of science through the lens of dance, and 2) using Bharatanatyam to talk about nature and conservation.

To explore the brain through the lens of dance, I developed Neuronatyam--an excerpt of which debuted in NYC in early March 2020. A larger version of this piece was supposed to be presented later in March. Passionate about nature and conservation, I have developed a piece that shows the death of an old oak tree. The death of the tree is not its death alone, the animals and birds and bats that used to seek refuge in the tree are also affected. These themes will be even more relevant as we will emerge out of the pandemic.

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

I try to bring together science and conservation in my piece. In a way, I am very lucky to be working in a dance form that offers a language for pretty much any story I want to say.

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

Now, more than ever, the importance of science and arts is being understood and accepted. I think there is a need to (and interest in) explaining the sciences in a way that is relatable, clear, concise, and not condescending. I believe that arts--and specifically--dance provides us a way to do just that!

Self-care tip

I think there is sometimes a propensity to be “hyper-productive,” because there is an illusion of having so much time. I am trying to practice self-compassion, and being okay with not being okay.

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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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Ritha Devi, 92

Ritha Devi, Indian Classical Dancer and Teacher, Dies at 92
by Amisha Padnani, The New York Times, September 22, 2017

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