Danceletter 27
As someone who rarely left the house between March 12 and June 1, I feel like I’ve come out of hibernation, and into a revolution, over the past few weeks in New York. When I started writing this newsletter every week back in March (after a long Danceletter hiatus), I was trying to stay grounded in the middle of a huge shift: a shift to barely going outdoors or seeing people face to face (other than the person I live with); to writing on dance in the absence of live performance; to grappling with illness and death of a scale that still seems unreal, and that touched people very close to me.
Now another huge, historic shift is underway, even as Covid-19 persists (though less severely in New York, where we just entered “Phase 2” of “reopening”). I’ve gone from fearing crowds to showing up at protests whenever I can (with a mask), from long stretches of isolation to feeling newly connected with friends and strangers, energized by these collective actions. I’ve been watching and reading and listening as artists in dance and theater and across many disciplines demand systemic change in the arts, calling for more than hollow solidarity statements from cultural institutions. I’ve been reflecting on my own role as a critic and journalist, the power and privilege of this position, and how whiteness has structured — and limited, and continues to limit — so much in dance criticism and journalism. I’ve also been realizing, or re-realizing, the extent of the internal and interpersonal work I have to do, in understanding and undoing my own complicity in systems of oppression. I’ve had to remind myself (and allow friends to remind me) that this process of learning and unlearning doesn’t end, and I will make mistakes. There is no perfect, and there is no finish line.
As I move through and with these shifts, I’m not sure what shape this newsletter will take, or if I’ll keep writing every week. I do know that when I first started Danceletter at the dawn of 2019, a time that now feels like ancient history, it was meant to be a space for experimentation, and I want to stay true to that intention. I also never imagined it would double as a fundraiser in the midst of a global pandemic. Thank you again to all the subscribers who have helped to raise more than $3700 for the NYC Dancers Relief Fund and the NYC Low-Income Artist / Freelancer Relief Fund, and to everyone who has helped spread the word. (You can, of course, still sign up for a paid subscription or give directly to those funds, both linked at the end of this letter.)
For today, here are a few dance-related resources and writings I’ve appreciated lately, and one new series to watch online:
“Black Dance Scholarship by Black Dance Scholars – List of Citations,” compiled by members of the Dance Studies Association.
“The Trayvon Generation,” by Elizabeth Alexander in The New Yorker.
“Recognizing Systemic Racism in Dance,” by Alicia Mullikin and collaborators for SeattleDances.
“Artists Reach Out: Reflections in a time of isolation,” a series of interviews by Eva Yaa Asantewaa for her blog, InfiniteBody.
“Sassy, Moody, Nasty,” by Emma Cohen, on TikTok dances, for thINKingDANCE.
“Black Dance Stories,” a new series of informal conversations hosted by dance artist, writer, and educator Charmaine Warren. Kicking off with Ayodele Casel and Stefanie Batten Bland this Thursday, June 25, at 6 p.m. EDT. See @blackdancestories on Instagram for details.
And here’s what I’ve been up to writing-wise:
An interview with J. Bouey and Melanie Greene, hosts of The Dance Union podcast, about their organizing to dismantle white supremacy in dance institutions. You can watch the YouTube recordings of their two town halls here and here. (Note: the first 45-ish minutes of the second recording is a DJ set by DJ TonyMonkey.) Also, listen to The Dance Union podcast! I enjoyed going back through old episodes for this story.
“Dancing Bodies That Proclaim: Black Lives Matter,” a feature in which I spoke to dancers in three cities about what it means to them to dance in protest. Many people expressed interest in the dance protest Google Doc I mentioned in the story, compiled by MiRi Park. It’s linked in the article, and you can also find it here.
Writing about dance as protest, I was reminded of this powerful protest choreography and anthem, created by the Chilean feminist collective Lastesis to bring attention to violence against women. Here is their action from last November in Valparaíso, Chile, titled “Un violador en tu camino” (“A Rapist in Your Path”), which was later replicated in cities around the world:
Incidentally, as I was writing this, I received a note from my colleague Alex Ripp, alerting me to the fact that Lastesis is being sued by the Chilean national police for allegedly inciting violence against them, and that this has received almost no foreign press coverage. If you’re a writer who might be interested in covering this, please let me know, and I can connect you with Alex. She is also circulating a letter of support in Spanish and English; anyone can sign either version through tomorrow, June 24.