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Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health. 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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Tuesday, March 17, 2020

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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Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Girl Be Heard on eating disorders and the diet industry

Members of Girl Be Heard
perform Embodi(ED).
(photo: Ashley Marinacccio)

They will inform, delight, alarm and help you to reawaken
that authentic voice that still lives within you.
– Gloria Steinem

Girl Be Heard--the award-winning troupe that empowers girls to tell their real-world stories with guidance from theater professionals and activists--announces Embodi(ED), a dance and theater piece about eating disorders and "the American distorted perception of body images."

Directed by Ashley Marinaccio, and produced by theater-maker and activist Jessica Greer Morris, the production will run at HERE for eight performances, Thursdays through Sundays, February 11-21.

All performances will be followed by a 15-minute talkbacks, featuring health professionals, women’s rights activists and the creative team.

For Embodi(ED) tickets, 
click here or call 212-352-3101.

Learn more about Girl Be Heard 
here and on YouTube.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/girlbeheard

Twitter: @girlbeheard


145  Sixth Avenue (entrance: Dominick Street, one block south of Spring Street), Manhattan

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Being necessarily here...with Marjani Forté


Dancer-choreographer Marjani Forté (left) and members of her company LOVE|FORTÉ A COLLECTIVE
(photos: left, Ian Douglas; top, Wah Ming Chang, Open City Magazine)

This up-and-coming troupe will present a world premiere in March at Danspace Project.


In recent months, the American media and people, responding to a series of well-publicized tragedies, have opened up a new--although not always entirely helpful--conversation around trauma, mental illness, and public safety. For dance artist Marjani Forté, who has been considering these issues for some time, these discussions don't always lead us back to a significant source of mental distress and imbalance--the daily collision with injustice faced by millions of people marginalized by the mainstream culture. 

"We need to have a deeper conversation around who we are as a country in regards to our history around race and our systems that have been constructed around that history," the choreographer says.

During curator Ishmael Houston-Jones's historic Parallels platform at Danspace Project (February-March 2012), Forté showed a work-in-progress called Here... which she describes as an "observation of mental health in the face of systematic oppression," the impact of racism and economic inequity. Feedback on that 20-minute preview, she says, provided insight into the value of making space for "the full picture of resilience, survival, and healing." The resulting evening-length work--retitled being Here...--opens at Danspace Project on March 21 for a two-night run.

Marjani Forté (photo by Ian Douglas)
Last winter a friend and I encountered a young woman on the Q train in New York City. She was young, slender, beautifully dark skin and curly hair, bright colors and denim pants. She was ranting. She spoke about a time she should never have known about. At no older than 25, this woman spoke like an 80 year old man, about the American Flag. “..You don’t know about the blood on that flag,” she said, as she described her trauma. She carried on in this way across the Brooklyn Bridge to Midtown Manhattan. Then her voice began to change. She developed an accent, deep, thick, and broken. Finally captivated by her, my friend made eye contact with her and winked. The young woman winked back! I sobbed, my friend and I sobbed together.
I felt time pause, and in that moment, she reflected my own journey, my fight for balance, equality, and health. She inspired me to make this work, a story of connection and healing.
--Marjani Forté 

We rarely expect concert dance to tackle an issue as weighty and complex as the roots and consequences of mental illness in American society. But Forté, best known for her performances with Jawole Willa Jo Zollar's Urban Bush Women, is no stranger to social engagement or art that addresses difficult social concerns. Inspired by her interviews with women from the Yale Program for Recovery and Community Health, Forté aims, in being Here..., to "tell one story."

"The most powerful art pieces that I've seen have caused me to ask and generate my own questions about myself and how I'm implicated from telling one story," she says and notes the Benh Zeitlin film, Beasts of the Southern Wild, written by Zeitlin and playwright Lucy Alibar. 

"That movie tells one story about this one community through the eyes of this one child and her journey into adulthood. In that one story, they address the isolation of this community, the power and assets that this community has  without being defined by mainstream culture or government. They address this community's own set of values. They address how mainstream culture comes in and can completely dismantle this community by placing its values on a community that had been self-defined. They address poverty. And they also address how one person takes all of this in and owns her own self-worth and power inside of it.

"So, the way that I'm avoiding getting too complicated in my own thoughts around these issues is, I'm focused on telling one human story, hoping to affirm recovery and regeneration.

"I want people to step into one mind and the facets of that mind."

See being Here... at Danspace Project, Thursday-Friday, March 21-22 at 8pm. For complete details and ticketing, click here.

St. Mark's Church in-the-Bowery
East 10th Street at Second Avenue, Manhattan

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Out of isolation: Black gay men and depression

Benefit for You Are Not Alone hosted by Project DBGM

Saturday, November 19

Award-winning journalist and founder of Project DBGM (Depressed Black Gay Men) Antoine Craigwell together with a team are hosting a benefit I’m Not Alone @ The Table to raise additional funds and public awareness for the completion of his upcoming documentary, You Are Not Alone, which focuses on the struggles and suffering in silence of Black gay men dealing with depression. 
According to the American Association of Suicidology, between the '80s to early '90s, the rate of suicide among Black men ages 15-24 increased 83 percent. Although the rate dropped to 67 percent, it is still the third leading cause of death among young Black men, and 4.3 times higher than Black women. 

“We are shattering the taboo, that unspoken rule with protective roots in Black history, which says ‘you don't talk your business to strangers’.” say Craigwell. “That silence which ignores the hurts, abuses, and betrayals Black gay men experience, contributes to their downward spiral into depression and we want to let folks know they are not alone at the table.”
Antoine Craigwell

The program will include nationally-renowned comedienne Tammy Peay as the evening’s MC along with DJs Fred Pierce and Cameron Fitzpatrick on the 1’s & 2’s. The evening will feature wine tastings, networking, a cocktail bar, special performances and a silent auction of items from several businesses and individuals including: Kate Clinton, The Jeremy Kyle Show, Charly Dominguez, Lawrence Graham-Brown, Jon Lucas, and many others. Kaz Mitchell, Circle of Voices, Inc. is leading the auction.  To contribute or donate items the auction, please contact Kaz Mitchell here.

Doors open 7pm
Program begins 7:30pm

Brooklyn Society for Ethical Culture
53 Prospect Park West, Brooklyn

Get tickets (available only online)

More information on Project DBGM

Thursday, January 13, 2011

From Tucson forward

In a time of trauma, a well-delivered presidential speech can reassure, inspire and draw the nation together, and it should surprise no one that President Obama, master speaker, rose to the occasion last evening in Tucson, Arizona.

Being presidential also includes action:
  • to protect the American people (gun control)
  • to fight systemic racism, xenophobia, sexism, homophobia and transphobia and to foster and protect human rights
  • to seek justice for victims of hate crimes
  • to ensure adequate funding for mental health resources and universal access to quality mental health care
  • to acknowledge that true civility rests upon a foundation of truth and trust and requires the defense of truth, not the promotion (and passive acceptance) of untruths as differing, equally valid points of view
We need a clear commitment from President Obama and our political leadership to fight for these things so that our healing as individuals and as a nation can go deeper and, in the long run, be more secure. We will move forward from Tucson with courage if we take action to address each of our problems at the source.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Healing New Orleans



Healing is The Revolution
(director: Iman Shervington)

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Eating disorders: the financial toll

Treating Eating Disorders and Paying for It
by Lesley Alderman, The New York Times, December 3, 2010

Friday, November 19, 2010

Remembering the edge


Edited by Dan Crowe; photos by Tom Craig
Published by Rizzoli (2010)

Armenia (c)Tom Craig
A collection of 14 first-hand accounts of life inside conflict zones where Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) provides emergency medical care. The book takes readers on a harrowing tour of countries in crisis, profiling people struggling to cope with war, disease, and lack of access to basic health care.

Sudan (c)Tom Craig

I'm grateful to 92nd Street Y and moderator Bob Woodruff (ABC News) for introducing us, last evening, to award-winning photographer Tom Craig in an event highlighting Writing on the Edge and the resourceful humanitarian work of Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), work requiring ethical clarity, a pragmatic balancing act and tons of courage.


Assam (c)Tom Craig

Besides Craig, Writing on the Edge's contributors include director-producer Danny Boyle (Trainspotting; Slumdog Millionaire), novelists Martin Amis (The Rachel Papers; Money; Time's Arrow), Damon Galgut (The Good Doctor) and Joanne Harris (Chocolat), actor Daniel Day-Lewis and many other essayists.

Here are some excerpts about experiences in Burundi, Uzbekistan and Armenia.

For further information, click here.
To purchase, click here.

For information on Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières, click here.

Connect with the wide-ranging programs of 92nd Street Y here.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Daniel Beaty: It Gets Better



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