Taking Pride! La MaMa's Squirts Festival

Congratulations to Dan Fishback (Director of Helix Queer Performance Network) for another evening of exceeding already high expectations with his annual La MaMa's Squirts festival of queer performance. Fishback, a valiant writer and performer, says the standard Pride Month hooplah--magnified this year with the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall rebellion--makes him a bit queasy. But he found his happy place at La MaMa in these gatherings of some of our community's most scintillating talents.

"This," he declares now, "is the queer world I always wanted to live in."

Convened by a sharp team of invited curators, Squirts performers span performance genres, generations, races and cultures; this year, it is, says Fishback, "100% curated by transwomen!" Also new this year: 100% free admission. And, honey, you get a lot for that nice price.

Last evening's weekend opener was curated and hosted with unmatched charm by storyteller, actress and health activist Cecilia Gentili. Her sometimes poignant, sometimes humorous entr'acte patter both introduced us to her personal story--living under dictatorship in her native Argentina; embracing the freedom in New York she had envied from afar; learning hard lessons about the dangers transwomen face in the U.S.--while smoothly ushering in one after another of her performers. Most compelling on the bill were Linda LaBeija, delivering spoken word, and Afro-Latin rapper Auset Bennu, each representing Bronx aesthetics in their own commanding, sharp-edged way.

Squirts curators mean business. (I know. I was one last year.) So, I suggest you find out what's up this evening (curated by Charlene Incarnate) and Sunday evening (curated by Mizz June).

One note of caution: The weather outside might be warmish this weekend, but take a sweater and maybe even a cap. La MaMa, for reasons I could not fathom, A/C'ed its theater like a meat locker. Chilled to the bone, I finally, reluctantly and most regretfully fled before the show ended. Still recovering from a wicked cold that had knocked me out since the previous (holiday!) weekend, I was in no shape to withstand La MaMa's deep freeze.

La MaMa's Squirts continues tonight and tomorrow with performances at 7pm. Click here for information and tickets.

La MaMa's Ellen Stewart Theatre
66 East 4th Street (between Bowery and Second Avenue), Manhattan

******

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.

******

Subscribe in a reader

prettygirl264264 checks in from Abrons Arts Center

Ashley R.T. Yergens
in character for prettygirl264264
(photo: Fred Attenborough)

What you focus on increases. Or, maybe it's, What you focus on expands. Or what...ever.

That favored quote of New Agey savants came to mind at last evening's world premiere of prettygirl264264, when I gauged the distance--physical and otherwise--between trans performance artist Ashley R.T. Yergens and a flat screen television displaying appearances by singer Cher, the late Sono Bono and their trans son Chaz Bono. My interest in Sonny and Cher had faded out quite early, with their pop star heyday and my youth, and has not made a miraculous recovery in the current age of celebrity tv and Twitter. So, I was content to train nearly undivided attention on the present moment and the live action before us at Abrons Arts Center where the Underground Theater's floor was nearly blanketed by a cheery layer of party balloons. Yes, party balloons for something Yergens billed as his "premature funeral."

The service served an atypical "In Loving Memory Of" funeral card in lieu of a program. The dearly not-quite-yet-departed took a while to appear, the buildup to that appearance including a standout, if painful, performance of "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" by lily bo shapiro, dolled up in gleaming, cherry pink unitard and oversized, rhinestone-encrusted glasses. Yes, a Celine Dion anthem at a premature funeral where evocation of Judy Garland's connection to blackface, Sonny Bono's death by skiing into a tree, and a full-out dance duet routine to La Bouche's "Be My Lover" are not only inevitable but completely appropriate.

Not too long ago, I read a New York Times obituary that told the story of how the late actor James Karen asked his buddies, unbeknownst to one another, to draft his obit long before he actually passed. His wife finally revealed to one friend, George Clooney, that Karen had a habit of doing this so that he'd be around to enjoy what people thought of him. Not a terrible idea. And, in his way, Yergens is doing the same--inviting us in to indulge one trans man's moment of celebration and to contemplate how rare acknowledgement and celebration can be at the end of many trans lives.

If neither the celebs onscreen (one, a "gay icon" who is cisgender and straight; the other, an early, selective and reluctant object of mainstream media spotlight on trans lives) can fairly represent the range of trans experience, neither can Yergens, keenly aware of his white, able-bodied visibility and privilege. prettygirl264264--the title comes from an old AOL handle--speaks from a particular sliver of experience and sensibilities, bringing wry lightheartedness in a time of serious political struggle. And, yes, we need that contribution, too.

Video: Rena Anakwe

Performers: Sydney Boyu, Nico Brown, lily bo shapiro, Mur, Kristopher K.Q. Pourzal, Ashley R.T. Yergens

Lighting: Jennifer Fok

Original Music: Trashed My Living Room and ErasedMur

prettygirl264264 continues tonight and Saturday evening with performances at 7:30pm. 50% of ticket sales benefit trans rights organizations. Although both performances have sold out, Abrons promises to get some walkups in. So try for it! For information, click here.

Abrons Arts Center
466 Grand Street (at Pitt Street), Manhattan
(Plan your visit.)

******

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.

******

Subscribe in a reader

A meditation on Ni'Ja Whitson at La MaMa Moves

Ni'Ja Whitson (above) and Stacey Karen Robinson (below)
perform The Unarrival Experiments #4', described as
"a ritual digging into the 'vaporous body'
via relationships between astronomy, cosmology, time,
Blackness, and premature death." 
(photos: Theo Cote)

Opacity is in the very nature of what award-winning dance artist Ni'Ja Whitson created in The Unarrival Experiments #4, a presentation of La MaMa Moves at The Downstairs.

A ritual to which you have been invited and for which you have not prepared.

A space in which you are kept in the literal (mostly) and metaphoric (almost always) dark and in which you learn, deep into 90-or-so uninterrupted minutes, that it's all about darkness.

A dark in which much happens to which you are not privy, like the engulfing dark of the ocean at night or at its greatest depths. Or the dark of the vastness of space between stars.

With their audience scattered in clusters, Whitson, dressed in white, begins the evening by beating large fronds against one of the theater's risers. The rhythms of these strikes are clear but keep changing so much that you begin to listen for a language-like pattern, a message. Straining for this might be your first mistake. If this effort wears you out a bit, good. Just stop it.

Stacey Karen Robinson is also in the space with her supple, musical voice. She takes Whitson's dense text on a long, long stream of a flight. (Whitson will also perform a few soliloquies.) She molds it like clay. But, like the rhythms Whitson beat out at the start, her words slip right by you as you reach to grasp them.

I tried. In the middle of jotting down a sentence, I'd lose the rest of it. I'd labor over the start, and the remainder would evaporate, and Robinson would be way past floundering me, on to something else and something after that and more after that. And even what I thought I had managed to capture in my darkened-theater scrawl turns out to be no good to me today. A senseless, hopeless tangle. Or gone. Mostly gone.

Not all, though:

It is not every day I die, not every day I find me a new body....

These walking glories, these transmigrators....holding the North in themselves....the only direction was free!

He broke her. He broke her.

It seems like a contest. Who is the more distracting?

Robinson--distracting us from the largely fugitive Whitson in their dim environment or in darkness or scurrying out of audience view, so that when we catch sight of Whitson again, faint white clothing peeking out from a different part of the space, we're momentarily startled? Maybe momentarily reassured?

Or do Whitson's movements, weighty while enigmatic, distract from Robinson's speech?

To which artist do we owe our attention, our witness, our loyalty?

Body? Or Voice?

And what of that moment when a shredding blast--sounding random, meaningless--obscures both artists?

We, audience, may cup the used space--be space-holders in a way--but we appear to matter only in the way cosmic bodies matter to one another. It doesn't feel personal. It feels functional. Even arbitrary.

A strange feeling. One I'm on the fence about. It's a provocative ask of an audience. But I found myself wondering about (and resisting) all the literal and metaphoric darkness. I felt we had been abandoned. Stranded in space.

And something more. At one point, Whitson drew a ball of twine from beneath an audience member's chair. Whitson unraveled it, spider-like, stringing it between the legs of some of our chairs.

I noticed immediately. I was right next to this action and felt the twine as it touched my ankles. I reached down and ran my fingers over it. I noticed where it connected. I wondered what it meant.

When the piece concluded, I happened to remain in my seat for a few moments and watched as two women--hastening to leave, an impulse I must admit I shared but resisted--nearly stumbled because they did not notice (or perhaps remember) the twine at their feet. Oddly, it took a few moments more before a staffer finally warned the audience to be careful of the twine.

Hard to know if this was deliberate--yeah, in a way, I could see that fitting this piece--or an oversight.

What we don't know could fill a multiverse. Whitson's text offered a brief crack of light for me in a few places--the most dramatic being their mention of how infinitesimally huge is the place of black darkness in the cosmos.

How little there is, really, that we can say with certainty we know, define and control.

Sound design and performance: Jeremy Touissant-Baptiste
Lighting design: Tuce Yasak
Lighting and Sound Supervisor: Hao Bai

The Unarrival Experiments #4 concludes tonight with a 7pm performance. For information and tickets, click here.

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

Subscribe in a reader

That upcoming APAP theme is what again?

Have you heard? The theme of the 2018 Association of Performing Arts Professionals (APAP) Conference in New York City (January 12-16) is...

trans.ACT.

Kind of makes your heart beat faster, doesn't it?

But hold on!

Not surprisingly, APAP's call for proposals for trans.ACT. caught the attention of trans dance and performance artist Ashley R.T. Yergens who noticed a curious absence of any mention of trans artists and their work.

Yergens took his questions about all this to Facebook:

The Association of Performing Arts Professionals, formerly known as the Association of Performing Arts Presenters, or more commonly known as APAP is calling for Professional Development Program proposals using the theme "trans.ACT."

They define the theme as the following:

"This year’s theme, trans.ACT, focuses on the transformative power of the arts and the multiple ways - 'trans' meaning across, beyond, and through – in which we 'act' upon our commitment to bring the full meaning, impact and experience of the arts to communities across the country and around the world."

While I understand the etymology of the prefix "trans," I can't help but notice that the theme reads as transact as in transaction. Also, it reads as Trans Act like an act that serves to protect trans people like me. This particular reading of the theme leaves me completely baffled.

There's zero mention of trans people - trans dance and performance artists - like me, which seems like a hugely missed opportunity and evidence of who was in the room to finalize this year's APAP theme for Professional Development Program proposals.

Again, I understand the etymology of the prefix "trans." I'm not here to police language. Words evolve. However, I question and I hold APAP accountable to how they're using the word at this point in the evolution of "trans." The word has finally entered the mainstream to describe people like me who don't identify with their assigned genders at birth. It's a word that empowers me and allows me to find other people who share similar experiences and hardships.

Honestly, this is like APAP naming the theme "Gay.ACT" and defining "gay" simply as happy and distancing the term from its loaded history pertaining to gay people.

Perhaps this theme wouldn't be so unsettling if it weren't for the fact that dance and live performance lacks history, documentation, and consistent opportunities for dancing and performing bodies of trans experiences. If you want proof of what this field is lacking, then 1) send money to my Venmo account, and I'll do the labor of sharing my research and personal experiences with you or 2) Google.

So, I'm holding APAP accountable to answering the following questions: 

1.) Did you consult any trans people when you selected this theme?

2.) Are there any trans people on your staff or board?

3.) How have you supported trans dance artists and performers in the past? How do you plan on supporting trans dance artists and performers in the future?

4.) While I understand the etymology of "trans," I find it odd that you chose to use a word that is currently used to describe identities that I and so many other people fight for on a daily basis. Why don't you mention trans people in your description? Was any of this discussed when selecting "trans.ACT" as a theme?

I look forward to APAP's thorough responses, and I am eager to see how they will transcend their faux pas with action.

I encourage you to contact APAP as well: https://www.apap365.org/About/Staff

Ashley R.T. Yergens

YERGEN'S QUERY

Yergens also sent the following email to APAP:

Hello,

My name is Ashley R.T. Yergens. I'm a trans dance artist and performer based in Brooklyn, NY.

I was reading your description about this year's PDP theme for proposals.

A few questions come to mind:

1.) Did you consult any trans people when you selected this theme?
2.) Are there any trans people on your staff or board?
3.) How have you supported trans dance artists and performers in the past? How do you plan on supporting trans dance artists and performers in the future?
4.) While I understand the etymology of "trans," I find it odd that you chose to use a word that is currently used to describe identities that I and so many other people fight for on a daily basis. Why don't you mention trans people in your description? Was any of this discussed when selecting "trans.ACT" as a theme?

I look forward to reading your responses and discussing this further.

Best,

Ash

APAP'S REPLY

Minutes later, Yergens received the following reply:

Dear Ash,

Thank you for reaching out with your questions about this year's APAP|NYC conference theme.  Given that we are heading into a holiday weekend, I wanted to be sure to reach out to you.

Our conference committee of artists, agents, presenters and producers spent a considerable amount of time discussing the multiple meanings of "trans" in creating the theme.  We hope to bring together a wide range of professionals, including transgender artists, next January to explore how we can collectively advance the role and value of the performing arts in today’s complicated world.
 
We invite you to submit a conference proposal or otherwise happy to touch base following the upcoming holiday.

Best regards,

Scott

Scott D. Stoner
Vice President, Programs and Resources
Association of Performing Arts Professionals
1211 Connecticut Avenue, NW, Suite 200
Washington, DC 20036
202-331-1890 | APAP365.org

YERGEN'S REPLY

Dear Scott,

Thank you for touching base. I look forward to hearing your responses to my questions, learning more about the considerable time spent discussing the multiple meanings of "trans," how you arrived at the copy on the proposal form, and learning more about how you will include transgender artists at this year's conference.

Best,

Ash

Yes, I think it will be good to hear some direct, meaningful responses to Yergen's reasonable questions, and I welcome him to keep InfiniteBody's readers posted.

*****

Ashley R.T. Yergens is a 2016 boo-koo artist-in-residence at Gibney Dance, and a 2016-17 Fresh Tracks Artist at New York Live Arts. He's a former project coordinator for DanceMotion USA, a program of the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs of the US Department of State, produced by BAM. Currently, he works at New York Live Arts as a development associate.

Subscribe in a reader

Louisa Jo Killen, 79

Louisa Jo Killen, Folk Singer With a Booming Tenor, Dies at 79
by Paul Vitello, The New York Times, August 25, 2013

Break the bounds: trans performance artist niv Acosta

niv Acosta: Dance Influenced Performance Artist
by Annie Malamet, Posture, August 13, 2013