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Showing posts with label aging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aging. Show all posts

Monday, June 21, 2021

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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Thursday, May 31, 2018

Who is this body? Anabella Lenzu at La MaMa Moves!

Anabella Lenzu
(photos: Anabella Lenzu Dance)
"This is my body. The dance is coming from my body,
not the body of a 25-year-old."
--Lenzu in her post-show conversation with director Daniel Pettrow


What I most appreciate about Anabella Lenzu (Anabella Lenzu/Dance Drama), whom I have known since she took my dance writing course at New York Live Arts, is how fully she inhabits the moment. She's all there, a force of self-determination, and that serves her well in her vivid new solo, No more beautiful dances, a world premiere for La MaMa Moves!

It's a generous presence in which Lenzu--plunging headfirst into performance after a long time focused on making work for others--ramps up what it means to be a dancer. It means your body speaks for you; it is your art, one vulnerable to the judgment of others as well as your own, offered up for display and assessment. Lenzu aims to stay honest about all that. With the audience as witness, she desires to serve, too, as her own outside eye.

She marks thick lines in menstrual red around her feet and thighs, outlines she will then fill with the same color and with furious energy. She allows two live-streaming cameras--one from above, one from below--to snoop around every surface and crevice of her 42-year-old body. This reads a bit like feminism of the My Body, My Self kind, an effort to take look at herself, journal what she observes, understand and come to grips with the changes undergone with the years and after giving birth to her two kids.

With the help of director Daniel Pettrow and the mentors she will cite after the show, this "journal" has been distilled down to about 40 minutes. But it encompasses so much--all that can be seen and all that needs to be imagined upon reflection of the viewer's own history. It stretches across the walls of The Downstairs theater's waiting area where blown-up, drawing-enhanced selfies of the dancer have been hung. It includes Lenzu's sturdy, expressive movement, of course, and her husband Todd Carroll's video projections but also Lenzu's speaking and songs recalled from her Argentinian youth--all to recapture a grounding sense of a self almost lost here in a new land.

In her post-show chat with Pettrow and the audience, Lenzu answered the inevitable question about her title, No more beautiful dances, by calling it a warning: "This dog will bite you."

Oh, yeah, I get that. When I first read the title, I thought of it as: "No more beautiful dances...for YOU, MISSY!" I also could not help but hear a poignant question: "Am I no longer able to make beauty?"

But I think an audience member figured out something better, something true of Lenzu when he offered this:

"No more pretty dances. Ah, but beauty...!"

Costumes: Jennifer Johanos
Lighting design: Hao Bai

No more beautiful dances has a final performance tonight at 7pm. For information and tickets, click here.

La MaMa The Downstairs
66 East 4th Street (between 2nd Avenue and Bowery), Manhattan

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Saturday, January 20, 2018

Meet your doom--maybe--with Split Britches at La MaMa

Above: Lois Weaver
Below: Peggy Shaw
Split Britches brings Unexploded Ordnances (UXO)
to La MaMa for its US premiere.
(photo: Matt Delbridge)


Unexploded Ordnances (UXO), a US premiere from famed lesbian theater duo Split Britches (Lois Weaver and Peggy Shaw), takes inspiration from Stanley Kubrick's political satire Dr. Strangelove (1964). It works from a similar wackadoodle take on the threat of nuclear disaster within reach of itchy Twitter--I mean, trigger--fingers. A top-flight general (Shaw) is stationed by a desk and computer monitor where he keeps track of time and apparently takes calls from gal pals. Weaver, referred to by Shaw as "Madame Mr. President Sir," initially slumbers at a far curve of circled "Situation Room" tables. They communicate via landline phones, although sometimes the phone rings, it's not Weaver, and Shaw breaks into randy old pop songs.

The situation at La MaMa, then, is less tense than Shaw's tracking of the countdown clock might suggest. Yes, the show itself must finish by the end of sixty minutes, but Billy Ward and the Dominoes's "60 Minute Man" is one of those randy songs, and there seems to be plenty of time for studly Shaw to bop out to that. Yes, something must be done about the impending doom we're trying to track on confusing overhead monitors, but there's lots of time to field a council of elders from among the oldest of us in attendance. And, no, although lined up with other greyheads, I failed to make the cut.

Directed by Weaver and written by the pair with Hannah Maxwell, the show contains clever text aligned like precision-cut puzzle pieces (best delivered by saucy Shaw) and room for whatever unpredictables the elders might bring to the table. (One woman seemed obsessed with the mysterious whereabouts of one Tiffany Ariana Trump, offspring of Marla Maples and POS...oops, I mean, POTUS. Now that I think about it, Tiff does seem to have been out of the public eye for a suspiciously long time...hmmm.)

Unexploded Ordnances (UXO) is more chuckle-provoking and captivating than Kubrick--well, of course! it's lesbian!--with the additional benefit of encouraging the audience to determine not only how the play will go but also, you gotta hope, how the rest of our lives will go. Folks came up with some really good stuff!

Part of The Public Theater's now-closed Under the Radar Festival, and originally scheduled to end last weekend, Unexplode Ordnances (UXO) fortunately continues tonight, Saturday, at 8pm and Sunday at 4pm. For information and tickets, click here.

La MaMa -- Ellen Stewart Theatre
66 East 4th Street (between Bowery and Second Avenue), Manhattan
(map/directions)

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Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Sorry I Will Miss Your Show

Eva Yaa Asantewaa
(photo by D. Feller)

Gibney Dance Center has a running program they call Sorry I Missed Your Show. So I'm riffing off that title here because I want you to know that I'm aware how exceedingly tough it is to get press coverage (and decent press coverage) for dance shows in New York.

Throughout the year, I get numerous requests--not only press releases but also personal emails and Facebook messages--and try to juggle those requests along with my own interests and personal needs. No secret: I love dance a lot--as well as other arts and other activities; I am generally a quiet yet wildly multifaceted person--but have not managed to acquire bilocation or multi-location as my superpower!

Of course, ask, but there will be times when, for any number of reasons, I cannot get to your show (or even your rehearsal or informal showing). And it's better for all of us that I recognize those times and honor them. That way, I'm going to be more nourished, rested, resourceful, at ease and effective at what I do when I do get there.

Here's what led me to write this post:

How to Not Die: Some Survival Tips for Black Women Who Are Asked to Do Too Much

It's a terrific post, written in June 2013 by educator Robin M. Boylorn for the Crunk Feminist Collective blog. While it's directed to Black women, it contains wisdom that anyone should consider, and perhaps someday you too will take some of these ideas and recommendations to heart.

In the meantime, please remember that I'm grateful for what the arts, particularly dance, have meant to me throughout my entire life. I might not get to every show, but I stand with you in support and celebration.

Love,
Eva

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Lois Weaver's Tammy WhyNot brings fun for all ages

Lois Weaver as Tammy WhyNot with three of her
"sexy senior divas," the WhyNets, singing backup
(photo: Jonathan Slaff)

Lois Weaver brings fun for all ages in What Tammy Needs to Know about Getting Old and Having Sex: The Concert Tour, (November 6-23 at La MaMa). The veteran, beloved performance artist from Split Britches becomes twangy alter-ego Tammy WhyNot--part-time country-western singer, part-time researcher in senior centers from Zagreb to Chelsea. (Tammy even landed in the place where I take my yoga and Zumba classes, recruiting a few of her cast members, but I missed my chance!) Her topic of deep study (aka, "intense porch-sitting")? Sex in the golden years.

The marvelous WhyNets
dance choreography by Stormy Brandenberger.
Foreground, left to right: Carmen Estrada, Jorge Escalera and Dora Chu
(photo: Jonathan Slaff)
Weaver with Peggy Shaw
(photo: Jonathan Slaff)

The hour-long variety show is a charmer--a little sugar, a little spice. Weaver doesn't so much break the theatrical fourth wall as completely ignore it, with her disarmed audience, spanning many decades in age, contributing nearly as much fresh hilarity to the content as she and co-writer/Head of Security Peggy Shaw has.

Of Tammy's songs, The Time I've Wasted, a sad tale of KMart shopping "to fill the shopping cart I call my heart" might be my favorite, but it's hard to choose. But the greatest thing about Tammy is her generous heart and her welcome to a stageful of colorful seniors--like dancers Jorge Escalera and Carmen Estrada who will wow you with their spirit and talent.

There's no resisting Tammy. Let yourself go! You have until November 23 to get your tickets--and your sexy on--right here.

La MaMa
First Floor Theatre
74A East 4th Street (between Bowery and 2nd Avenue), Manhattan
(map/directions)

Friday, October 17, 2014

Dancing down the years: Karen Bernard's Triskelion weekend

Choreography by Karen Bernard
Dancers: Stacy Lynn Smith, above; Karen Bernard, below
(photos by Tim Fujioka)

presented by Triskelion Arts

1993-1996 It Could Have Been Different
and
Suspending and Other Tricks

This weekend, dancer-choreographer Karen Bernard, whose work addresses conventional ideas of beauty and age, will show excerpts from four seminal pieces created between 1993 and 1996 with original costumes by Liz Prince and performances by Donna Costello, Jil Guyon, Ryan Migge, Lisa Parra and Stacy Lynn Smith. In her world premiere, Suspending and Other Tricks, the choreographer "grapples with the limitations of aging and mortality."

Performance schedule:

Friday, October 17, 8pm (Opening night honors costume designer Liz Prince.)
Sunday, October 19, 8pm

For ticket reservations: info@triskelionarts.org

Triskelion Arts
118 North 11th Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
(map/directions)

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Senior ballroom dancers star in new indie documentary

Ballroom Confidential
(2014, USA; 85 minutes)
directed by Brian Lilla and produced by JoAnn Lilla

reviewed by Eva Yaa Asantewaa, InfiniteBody

Filmmaker Brian Lilla's mother, JoAnn Lilla, a real estate agent, took up ballroom dancing after losing her husband of 45 years. The vibrant changes he saw in her moved him to make a documentary about other Florida seniors, many of them widows, discovering new life and direction through taking ballroom dance classes with instructor Caleb Young.

Young--once a singer-songwriter and drag performer in New York--returned home to Florida after 9/11 and the breakup of a relationship. On the urging of his mother, he became a ballroom instructor, later opening the Absolutely Ballroom studio, a quick success. Lilla's Ballroom Confidential introduces us to the caring, sensitive Young, his choreographer Joe Mounts and several of their resourceful students, aged 60s through 90s, as they prepare for the annual studio show.


Some came with at least a little background in dancing; others, none. One shows off her closet-load of fancy dresses and accessories expressly for ballroom. But all seem transformed by the grace and glamour of the dance and the way Young and Mounts appeal to their innate sense of theater and role-playing. Ballroom even manages to win over Young's motorcycle-riding dad who overcomes his initial discomfort--"It's too feminine for me"--and becomes not only a student and sought-after male partner but the studio's lighting-and-sound guy.

Shirley Kirth, a stroke survivor with regal bearing and a penchant for cussing, doesn't want to be like other women in her retirement home, doing nothing but playing Bingo and dominoes in the balmy weather. "It seems like anyone over 60 just wants to sit on the couch, and I'm horrified," she says. Class fees can add up fast for these retirees, even at ethical businesses like Absolutely Ballroom, but Margaret Russo calls her lessons "an investment in my well-being." Lila's film shows that as a way to improve confidence and mood, enhance brain function and keep alive human touch and connection as one ages, ballroom dancing has much to recommend it.

*****
Ballroom Confidential will be released on February 11 through Amazon and Vimeo and later through iTunes and Hulu. To order a DVD now or to learn more about Lilla's documentary, click here.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Call for submissions: "Her Saturn Returns," Queer Women of Color

Her Saturn Returns | Queer Women of Color Life Transitions seeks essays, prose, poetry, interviews, and other forms of documentary writing for an upcoming Anthology on women’s experiences turning 30, and/or turning 60 – when Her Saturn Returns.

Deadline: October 15, 2012

Submit on the Submissions Page or email hersaturnreturns@gmail.com for more information.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Women I admire

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made

--Robert Browning ("Rabbi Ben Ezra")

So the legendary Diana Nyad, now 61, didn't make it all the way from Havana to Key West, stymied by an injury and her first-ever attack of asthma (Diana Nyad Puts Early End to Cuba-to-Florida Swim--Don Van Natta, Jr., The New York Times, August 9, 2011). She's still an exemplar of courage and human potential, of staying vital and claiming your power as you embark upon what Jane Fonda calls the Third Act. Since I'm heading in that direction--the Third Act not, unfortunately, Key West--I went to 92Y last evening to find out what Fonda, the mega-accomplished 73-year-old glamour-puss-with-moxie, might have to share.

Turns out she had a lot to share in what she called her "virgin speech" about her book, Prime Time: Love, health, sex, fitness, friendship, spirit--making the most of all of your life, just out from Random House. Baby-boomers like Fonda are "pioneers in this new landscape of aging," she said. "There's no roadmap." So, she created one.

Jane Fonda

"When you're inside oldness instead of looking at it from the outside, it's not bad at all," she said from the vantage point of her own aging as well as copious research and interviews with experts and the aged. In one treasured moment, a 104-year-old guy quipped to her, "When I was born, the Dead Sea was only sick!"

While go-go American society tends to think of aging as a process of decline, Fonda prefers the metaphor of an ascending staircase, "where our souls and our minds can be evolving upward." Because this is Jane Fonda, you'll find lots in her book about physical fitness and healthy eating and the joy of sex--"Doing the research was really fun!"--but what impressed me most about her talk and Q&A was the breadth and depth of her insight into human vulnerability and emotional well-being. Her project, now, is happiness and, like me, she's a big sharer. If she's happy, like the old song would have it, she wants you to be happy, too.

Hindsight works to the benefit of people over 50.

"We've survived things," says Fonda, remembering youth as, typically, a time of stress and hypervigilance. "We learn that this too shall pass, and we see commonalities more than differences. There is compassionate detachment."

Aside from being gorgeous, charming and very funny, at 73, Fonda really does seem to have evolved a self, one eager for reality and honesty. No longer the no-there-there "chameleon" her daughter once slyly called her, she took time to deeply examine her relationships--from her famous dad to her famous ex, Ted Turner, still a dear friend--to find out how to no longer be that woman who would dissolve and disappear into someone else's life.

"Intimacy becomes easier when you get older," she said, after a necessary period of reviewing and reinterpreting your life when you can "bring your whole self to the table, not just the part that you think is perfect."

Fonda loves the word generativity, defined by Merriam-Webster thus:
a concern for people besides self and family that usually develops during middle age; especially: a need to nurture and guide younger people and contribute to the next generation—used in the psychology of Erik Erikson
and she talks about how Katherine Hepburn took her under her wing and mentored her during the filming of On Golden Pond. Passing on wisdom and tools--that's what Fonda chooses to do now, as she glories in her Third Act, and it's a role I choose to emulate.

Besides, you gotta love this woman. She teaches that to keep our brains healthy, to capitalize on their natural plasticity, we must keep learning new things. And what does she want to learn now?

"I saw Anything Goes last night. So now I'm going to learn tap dancing!"

About Prime Time

Prime Time on Amazon.com

Click here for more 92Y programs and events.

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