FNIS 401M – Page 3 – Politics, Protocol, And Place in Indigenous Performing Arts

Circadia Indigena’s “Resolve”: Hidden clear messages

“REsolve is a courageous perspective of an individual, exploring thoughts and feelings, emotions and actions confronting corporate corruption and the destruction of our biosphere. In this dance we are observing from political cultures the perspectives and personal experiences of hopes, dreams and fears; exploring the thoughts, feelings, emotions and actions when confronted by an increasingly authoritarian system. However, with peace we share the insight of the internal thoughts and decisions of the individual forced to confront losing, one’s human rights and freedoms; participating with nature and fighting back or becoming the oppressors’ to death. But, also REsolveis to be at peace to overcome our present slavery physiological bondage; where you have no choice but to stand up for freedom; inspiring and moving at many levels, politically, culturally, regionally and intercontinental. REsolve inspires to address issues of de-colonisation of self, our tribal dances of spirituality, enhancing the bio connection to landscapes, plants, wildlife above and water, shape shifting and confinement, sexual abuse issues, racism and classism, and the codification of slavery, consumerism, and rural lifestyles, incorporating traditional and contemporary dance in solos, duets and quartets and original music for 30 minutes.” (From the Vancouver International Dance Festival performance catalogue.)

***

On Thursday the 3 March, I witnessed a 30-minute contemporary dance performance by the Ottawa-based Indigenous dance group Circadia Indigena, entitled REsolve. The piece was the opening performance for the 2016 Vancouver International Dance Festival (VIDF) and the preceding piece for the performance of Compagnie Virginie Brunelle (which played around 30 minutes after REsolve finished). The performance was held at the Roundhouse Exhibition Hall in Yaletown at 7.00 PM.

At around 6.30 PM my partner and I arrived, paid the $3 membership fee for the VIDF and entered the Yaletown Roundhouse Exhibition Hall. Blue lights illuminated a raised stage, in front of which were around thirty little round tables covered by black tablecloths and fake candles. Sushi, vegetables and dip, crackers and cheese, and profiteroles were available for free consumption. I observed the audience: they were mainly Caucasian (as far as I could tell) and over the age of 40, mingling and chatting as one would at an art gallery opening. I wondered how this chic soirée setting, surrounded by the VIDF’s annual art and photo exhibition, would contribute to how the witnesses were to view and absorb REsolve.

After introductions by Amanda Parris (host of CBC’s Arts & culture Program Exhibitionists) and the Co-producers of the VIDF, Barbara Bourget and Jay Hirabayashi, the performance began. Byron Chief-Moon* slowly entered onstage and faced away from the audience, holding a position that resembled shooting a bow and arrow and, twitching, crumpled to the ground. Jerry Longboat*, Luglio S. Romero*, and Olivia C. Davies* slowly entered from the sides of the audience and crept upon the stage. All four performers were wearing zombie-like make-up (white faces and dark eye sockets), and the men sported ripped business suits while Olivia wore a dress with red fabric cascading down the front. Olivia, Jerry, and Luglio squatted whilst Byron made motions of picking things up and dragged himself across the stage by his hair and clothes. The others then rose to join Byron in a circle dance, which was followed by a catwalk-like segment in which the dancers seemed to impersonate monster-fashion models. During most of the first half of the piece, the music was overlaid with a creepy voice performing an often-unintelligible monologue about exercising control over others. At one point, one of the dancers assumed the position of the standing cross, and the other three laid him down on the ground. This was repeated by two more of the dancers. At this point I could hear snippets of the monologue saying “we will guide them” and “we shall extinguish them”.

Soon afterward, Byron ran upstage and stared at the audience. The music stopped, and Byron proceeded to make a speech. He was echoed visually on a screen at the back of the stage on which was projected a live video of him (the cameraman of which was positioned in the audience)—this was reminiscent of the multiple-angle videos of people performing speeches on television. Ironically, the essence of Byron’s speech was “Turn off your TV!” “Television is not the truth,” he exclaimed, it is a circus, or rather a freak show. He advises us to “go to yourself; there you will find truth.” Throughout his speech the other three dancers approached Byron slowly, looking incredibly annoyed and threatening, whispering viciously. After a while Byron noticed them and yields his cause: “Okay. I said okay!”

The music resumed with a fast tempo and the dancers resumed their dance, this time echoed visually on the background screen, which multiplied their images and outlined the dancing figures with radiating colourful contours (perhaps reminiscent of the sensory overload of television). The lyrics of the songs spread clear messages: “We want your soul” and “America, your government is in control again”. Suddenly, each of the performers revealed some sort of sparkly or otherwise outrageous garment or accessory, and guest artist Su-Feh Lee entered the stage. She was dressed in a sparkly corset, fishnet stockings, and high boots, and she whipped an enormous bullwhip. Jerry longboat held out a large dark feather (as one may imagine a Medieval priest held out a cross to a person assumed of witchcraft). Nevertheless, all of the performers made beckoning movements accompanying the lyrics “We want your soul”. All of a sudden, the four dancers slumped to the ground. The music stopped and the lights turned off, and only the repeating crack of the bullwhip remained. When the lights were raised, the four dancers rose quickly and scattered to the opposite end of the stage from the bullwhipper. The five dancers then reassembled in center upstage and, smiling, took a bow.

REsolve was an incredibly confusing piece to witness, riddled with metaphorical imagery and hidden meaning. Possible interpretations that I had were as follows:

The crosses laid on top of one another may symbolise the indoctrination of Christianity upon Indigenous Peoples and the consequent deaths of some Aboriginal cultures, traditions, and communities.
“Turning off the TV”, in addition to an act of rebellion toward the accelerated and over-crowded superficialities of contemporary society, is also an act of decolonisation and Indigenous resurgence.
The “circus” imagery painted in Byron’s speech is reminiscent of the old act of turning Indigenous people into side show attractions. This phenomenon inspired Monique Mojica’s play Side Show Freaks & Circus Injuns (produced by Native Earth Performing Arts), which she discusses briefly in her essay “Verbing Art” (in Me Artsy, page 27).
The violent hushing of Byron’s speech by the others is an act of oppression against movements of resurgence and decolonisation.
Su-Feh Lee’s bullwhip figure may represent an authoritarian system; this is emphasised by the others slumping to the ground, jumping up and scattering toward the opposite corner as they become overrun by the oppressor.
We can spot small acts of resistance throughout the piece, such a Jerry Longboat’s feather and Byron’s more-or-less constant spirit of defiance.

As the audience was left to ponder over the meaning of REsolve, my partner and I exited the Exhibition Hall. Although confused and still digesting, we were certain that we had just witnessed a strong act of Indigenous resistance toward oppressive systems.

***

*Byron Chief-Moon is a Two-Spirit dancer and actor and a member of the Kainai Nation of the Blackfoot Confederacy in Southern Alberta. He was born in Carlsbad, California and now lives between Vancouver and Los Angeles with his family. His dance choreography combines traditional Blackfoot stories, dances, and songs with contemporary themes, dance, and music.

Jerry Longboat is the artistic director and founder of Circadia Indigena. He is Mohawk-Cayuga, of the Turtle Clan, from the Six Nations of the Grand River in Southern Ontario. He is a visual artist, graphic designer, actor, storyteller, dancer, and choreographer and has performed with professional dance companies across Canada.

Luglio S. Romero was born and raised in Costa Rica and studied Dance &Latin American Studies at Simon Fraser University. He has performed as a professional member of ballet companies in Costa Rica and BC, and he now teaches Zumba in Vancouver.

Olivia C. Davies is of Aboriginal heritage and studied dance at York University. She co-founded the MataDanZe Collective, a project aiming to empower women through movement. She is an Apprentice with the Dancers of Damelahamid and has choreographed performances for numerous festivals around Canada.

Su-Feh Lee is a Malaysian dancer/choreographer and the founder of the Vancouver-based dance company battery opera.

Visit Circadia Indigena’s website here: http://circadia-indigena.com/

Read the horrible review that I discussed in my class presentation here: http://www.vancouverobserver.com/culture/dance/demalahamid-and-circadia-indigena-dance-first-nations-experience-old-and-new

Lastly, here are some questions that witnessing REsolve provoked for me:

1)How might the setting (the tablecloths, fake candles, sushi and profiteroles, etc.) have played into how the attendees witnessed the evening’s performance of REsolve?

2)In her essay Verbing Art, Monique Mojica discusses “playing Indian” as a perpetual stereotypical role for mainstream Indigenous performers. She writes, “Our choices are either to put ourselves at the mercy of the artistic vision and politics of non-Indigenous directors, playwrights, artistic directors, designers and public relations machines and to stalwartly try to affect change from within those institutions, or to struggle to create [our] own theatre where our Indigenous artistic visions are in control and we unapologetically hold power over our voices, our stories and our images” (from Me Artsy, page 23). How does Circadia Indigena communicate this issue in REsolve? Additionally, how does the group maintain power over their own artistic visions and voices to change the common view of Indigenous performance art?

Dana Claxton: Made To Be Ready

On January 14^th, 2016 I had the privilege of witnessing Dana Claxton’s Made To Be Ready Exhibit opened at SFU’s Audain Gallery. When going through this exhibit I tried to keep in mind what I had just read in the exhibition statement but also what Karyn Recollet discusses in her piece For Sisters regarding layering, and the ways Indigenous peoples and their art have been categorized in “overly simplistic ways.” For my reflection, I will be specifically speaking to the two pieces in Made to be Ready, called Cultural Belongings and Headdress.

As a beader myself, I always feel like I have an extra appreciation and understanding of the time and precision it takes to finish a piece. Often however, I feel like beadwork specifically is incredibly tokenized as simplistic Indigenous garb. Also, mainstream representations of Aboriginal fashion are often grotesque cultural appropriations that do little to represent any actual representations of Indigeneity and lack the recognition of these ‘inspired’ designs.

In Headdress, Claxton is able to move away from this cultural presumption and display beadwork as more than garb, in the form of a headdress. Typically when you see a headdress, one commonly imagines a full eagle feather warbonnet complete with, beaded bands and ribbon, and more often than not, placed on top of a male chief. I am not of Lakota decent and I cannot speak to protocol or teachings around the headdress but when I see this photo, I noticed that it’s quite feminine. Also again, I cannot speak to Lakota headdress teachings, but this headdress hangs in the face of the woman rather than down the back of her hair.

You also see the woman wearing the headdress in Claxtons relating piece, Cultural Belongings. One of the first things I thought about while looking at this piece was the juxtaposition between the contemporary aesthetics along with the representations of Indigenous culture and arts. My eye first drawn to the woman’s dress, her shoes, her buckskin shawl, and I wonder how long it took to make that hide, and where I can find a pair of shoes like that. The woman, mid-step, is lead or guided by a horse staff and following her, on the ends of her shawl are belongings and teachings she physically trailing behind her. Of these items I noticed the beaded barrets, purses, pouches, and what I think might be an arrow quiver. What I hadn’t noticed at first is there seems to be a separate piece of buckskin that show symbols of pictographs, representing a connection to ancestors that claimed space by painting stories, and events on rocks structures.

Immediate news coverage responded to this exhibit were positive in that many of the writers were using interviews with Claxton to promote a narrative that challenges dominate discourses that have sought to dehumanize Indigenous women.

Today Dana Claxton claims the spaces of these gallery walls by placing works of beautiful beading across that space that reclaim Indigenous expressions of past, present and future while centering the image of strong Indigenous women. She displays these items as pieces of identity rather than items created for the purpose of resale as commodities. She centers these pieces as everyday items of contemporary Indigeneity expression rather than relics of an Indigenous past.

Reel Reservations: the Embargo Project, “Skyworld”

Skyworld Still 1

As part of The Talking Stick Festival, I attended the film screening of Reel Reservations: Cinematic Indigenous Sovereignty Series, which is a series of short and feature Indigenous films curated by Colin Van Loon. On Thursday, February 25, I attended the film screening of The Embargo Project, a collection of short films by Indigenous women filmmakers. For this blog, I will discuss one of the films titled Skyworld by Zoe Hopkins.

Biography: Zoe Hopkins

Zoe is Heiltsuk and Mohawk from Six Nations, Ontario. She is a fluent speaker of the Mohawk language and maintains close connections with both her Heiltsuk and Mohawk roots. She received a degree in Film from Ryerson and furthered her studies at the Sundance Institute Feature Film Program. Zoe has screened films around the world at festivals including Sundance, Worldwide Short Film Festival and Berlin. She has won several awards, including the NSI Online Festival Festival’s A&E Short Filmmakers Award and the Best Canadian Short Drama at the imagineNATIVE Film + Media Arts Festival.

Film Synopsis: Skyworld

Part of the Embargo Project is that each filmmaker had a set of restrictions to work with. Zoe Hopkins had various restrictions to work with, including:

Had to be surrealist film although her recent work was comedies
She had to work with a different crew than normal
make a single-shot film
Use non-synch sound
Use hand-made props/costumes
Had to be influenced in some way by Caroline Monnet’s work

Zoe said, “To sum up the rules I was given by the group: I’m scared. Until I remember the point of the whole collective – to experiment without fear of failure.”

The film is an 18 minute surrealist drama about a mother’s journey after the passing of her son’s father. At the beginning, the narrator briefly describes skyworld. In Mohawk teachings, people come from skyworld and return after their passing. She said that when her husband’s passing, part of her went to skyworld as well. As part of her grieving process, the main character moves between the real world and skyworld. She moves in with her parents to help take care of herself and her son and her parents begin teaching the Mohawk language. Through her connection with family and learning the language, she is able to find healing. At the end, a year after the death of her husband, she no longer moves between the two-worlds as she embraces her son.

Witnessing

There are a lot of things that could be talked about from this film but one thing that stood out to me was the role of language. The main character is on a personal journey of grieving and healing but I think it can also be viewed as a metaphor for the colonial damage on Indigenous people and the work that is being done to repair and resist this damage. Zoe’s film can be looked at in Nolan’s terms of ceremony and healing. One of the ways language is used in this film and for Indigenous people is as a tool of healing. By understanding the world around us and our lived realities through our Indigenous language, we create a worldview that allows us to escape from cognitive imperialism. One thing that the main character in the film pointed out is that there is no word for “empty” in her language but rather everything stems from the positive, so it would be “not good” rather than “bad.” Language is a way to return and reclaim Indigenous ways of knowing and being.

Language can also be used as a tool to decolonize the presentation space. Too often, film, theatres, the stage and other performance places are colonial spaces that impose one way of knowing onto the experiences of the audience. This little room for Indigenous experiences to be validated, upheld, and discussed. The use of language immediately challenges and deconstructs that space to make it relevant to the Indigenous performers.

Lalakenis Feast hosted by Beau Dick

On January 15, Beau Dick (Walas Gwa’yam) hosted the Lalakenis Feast in the AMS Great Hall at UBC. Beau is a Kwakwaka’wakw hereditary chief, a renowned artist, and cultural leader. The Lalakenis Feast was a celebration for the opening of Beau’s Lalakenis/ All Directions: A Journey of Truth and Unity exhibit that opened the following day at the Belkin Gallery. This exhibit is in response to and in conversation with Awalaskenis II: Journey of Truth and Unity, a journey that Beau and others took from UBC to Ottawa to enact a copper breaking ceremony. The Lalakenis Feast was a day-long event and had a long list of presenters and performers, Indigenous and non-Indigenous, from a diverse array of artistic traditions.

The Lalakenis Feast brought together a diverse community of both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. It was a profound opportunity for relationship building and bridging understanding between all those that participated in the event. Beau’s vision of creating a space of unity resonated powerfully with the speakers, dancers, and singers that presented their work.

Chief Robert Joseph reflected upon the concept of relationship building as reflected in the Kwak’wala word “Namwayut”. He stressed that reconciliation requires more than dialogue, it requires repairing and strengthening relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. I think that artistic collaborations are an integral component of the broader process of reconciliation, as they epitomize the practice of relationship building. In the words of Anishinaabe artist Emilie Monet,

“Collaborations are entities of their own, that move and evolve as projects unfold and individuals transform. Artistic collaborations nourish inspire and help push boundaries further. They allow space for growth, for new knowledge to be acquired and for new friendships to be born. They can bring people together to collectively envision a different world.”

These endeavors are incredibly complex for they bring together a multitude of people from a diverse range of communities, families and backgrounds each with their own unique set of values, experiences, teachings, and worldviews. Accordingly, collaborations are quite difficult to accomplish as they require the individuals involved to overcome any personal barriers that they may have that inhibit the necessary compassion and understanding as well as the broader societal structures that divide communities to be addressed. In this way, collaboration is a decolonizing act, for the task of working collaboratively necessitates that the parties involved overcome the divisions that colonial violence has torn into our lives. The multiple realities that collaborators weave together have the power to create dialogue and hopefully bring meaningful change and understanding to all those who witness it. Collaborators weave together histories, erase boundaries, and ask witnesses to see connections that may not be obvious. For example, at Lalakenis, Beau and his brother, Gyauustees, worked side by side to host the event, even though they came from very different backgrounds. Gyauustees comes from a background of sundance and Beau comes from a background of potlatches.

My hands go up to Beau, his family, friends, and community that work tirelessly and generously with the utmost humility to host such events with the intention of creating unity among all people.

Multiplicity “In Motion”

Prior to “In Motion”, our class attended the Talking Two Spirit Panel on Thursday, February 25^th. One of the panel members, Byron Chief Moon, a dancer and choreographer for Greed, mentioned the new elements that are considered and involved in the process of creating contemporary Indigenous works. In particular, he mentioned how digital soundscapes, visuals, and lighting are in the conversation of developing a piece. As a practicing artist who works within the digital arts, I was particularly interested in witnessing “In Motion” of how elements like choreography, lighting and sound are fused together to depict a cohesive concept.

The Talking Stick Festival “In Motion” was made of two performances: The NDN Way and Greed. Upon entering the theatre, the first thing I observed was the Talking Stick propped on stage left with a light shining above. This reminded that tonight the stage was specifically for the performers allowing them to be uninterrupted time and space to share their stories. As an audience member, my role would be to carefully listen and engage to the ideas of the speaker.

The NDN Way

In The NDN Way, the lighting and soundscape throughout the performance illustrated the dancers, Brian Solomon and Mariana Medellin-Meinke, movement within time and the earth.

The beginning the performance all lights in the room were off as one flashlight was lit. Solomon shined the light on Meinke’s body gently, as it captured and guided the viewer’s gaze. The light too danced in motion while tracing her figure producing a flowing motion and depicting the commencement of Meinke and Solomon’s journey returning back into the earth.

As for the soundscape, the tracks assembled replicated an individual channel surfing the radio. There was sound of static, an interview with Ron Evan and western songs. Occasionally, the two too would yell spontaneously. The combination of all of these sounds reflected some sort of struggle where the performers were trying to find their place within earth. In particular, the random static in between the interview and the songs reminded me of perhaps an Indigenous person’s conflict between their Indigenous culture and the Western culture that has been assimilated upon them.

Greed

Greed was performed by four dancers: Byron Chief-Moon, Jerry Longboat, Luglio S. Romero and Olivia C. Davies. The piece refers to the times in the stock market when millions are won or lost. The soundscape, visuals and choreography allude to these moments of struggle, tension, transformation, playfulness, and power all found within greed. The range of these elements amplifies the dark and gloomy ambiance of the performance.

In particular, there was one scene that exemplified the intensity through the use of harsh lighting. At one point of the performance, light from above shone directly onto Byron Chief Moon where the rest of the performers were circled around him. His wrists were attached together as if he had chained by manacles and he was struggling to stand up as he raised his hands into the light. The glaring light from above lit Byron Chief Moon forcefully as it brings attention to the restraint and constriction he is suffering from. Perhaps, insinuating that the light is a route to a different world there is a sense of struggle, force and power between Byron Chief Moon and another realm.

The lighting was not always shone from above as it spanned from being lit from the sides or the light source being diluted. The variety depended on the songs and different levels of personalities illustrated in the duration of the piece.

Like The NDN Way, Greed too was composed of multiple songs. The music ranged from opera, to electronic, rock, and classical. With the diversity in the music genres, there was also a breadth in personas showcased. It seemed as though each song represented a different persona of the performers. I was particularly interested in how each performer took on multiple roles on stage even when one was not the main focus. Collectivity was present from all of the dancers in each song. Because of the rotation and multiplicity of roles the performers took on, this aided the viewers to seek the greed spirit of all levels in personality.

Review on Solomon’s performance in Earth song

Article: “Earth Song pays tribute to the importance of connection”

“Raven Spirit Dance Society shares contemporary dance from a distinctly Aboriginal worldview. She also talks about how the piece deeply speaks to the connections individuals have between the Earth, their identity and themselves.”

“Bodies carve through space while fluidly moving around the state”

-Ileanna Cheladyn (Vancity Buzz)

Discussion Question: Do you think contemporary performances draw the same interactivity from spectators as it does in traditional ceremonies, performances, and different art forms?

Negotiating Protocols Within vs without Indigenous Communities

The Lalakenis Feast, 15 January 2016

Before the Lalakenis Feast, I had heard some people refer to it as a potlatch. “Potlatch” is a chinook jargon word, which is used to describe a ceremony where gifts are given. Yet it means something very different depending on where you come from. A Kwakwaka’wakw potlatch follows a strict set of protocols. Every person who attends one must be aware of, and respect the protocol and usually the only people who may attend the potlatch are those who are invited, and most are from the Kwakwaka’wakw tribes. Songs and dances can only be sung and danced by the families who have the hereditary right to them, or whom have been granted permission to use them.

The Lalakenis Feast was not a potlatch and was never called one by the hosts. Yet, there were many elements of a potlatch in it. Initially I felt concern that some Kwakwaka’wakw protocols were being broken. For example, in Kwakwaka’wakw culture it is common for someone to pass on their Kwakwaka’wakw name to a baby, but this is done so with much deliberation and consideration, because the name that goes to that child is their responsibility. Yet at the feast many children were given names, without knowing the child. Another example is that on the tentative schedule that we were sent before the feast the “hamatsa dancers” were listed. This concerned me because the hamatsa ceremony happens during the Tseka ( or Cedarbark ceremony) part of the potlatch, this is considered a very spiritually charged part of the potlatch. This dance cannot be performed outside of the potlatch and should stay within the bighouse. However, the Hamatsa dancers were not part of the feast.

The event was in the AMS Student Nest not a bighouse. It was an open invitation event so many in attendance didn’t know Kwakwaka’wakw protocols. Moreover, Beau involved many other indigenous and non-indigenous ceremonies and presenters in the event. My initial concern about protocol is a result of growing up in a Kwakwaka’wakw community, and having these protocols instilled in me from a young age. Yet, when I moved passed my concern, I was very aware of the uplifting and healing nature of the event.

I moved to Vancouver from my small Kwakwaka’wakw community on northern Vancouver Island to study at UBC. In my two years here, It’s become apparent to me that there is a privileging of western knowledge over indigenous knowledge systems within the institution. Beau’s feast made space for our Kwakwaka’wakw knowledge systems as well as other indigenous ways of knowing. These ways of knowing value relationships, between each other and the natural world.

I think perhaps we need to consider that events that happen within our Indigenous communities for our communities specifically, will have a different set of protocols, or will negotiate protocols differently than an event that is for those from outside communities. So how do we negotiate this respectfully and without creating conflict?

For more information about the feast check out the presentation:

Lalakenis Group Presentation Slides

You can also read Eliana’s blog post on Beau Dick and the Lalakenis feast here:

Eliana’s Post

TSF Industry Series: Van Art Gallery & Protocols

The Talking Stick Festival Industry Series:
Case Study: Vancouver Art Gallery and Protocols

Introduction

In this discussion, 4 panel members discuss the issues and protocols that arise when (re)creating “Indigenous” performance art. The discussion arose from the Vancouver Art Gallery’s November 2015 Fuse event, Transform, where the art gallery space was to be “transformed” through live performance and interactions. In this event, one performance had demonstrated “bad medicine” – lack of adherence to protocols, misrepresentation and (in my opinion) borderline racist content. However, the panel stated that the focus is not on the negative but how we can learn from these experiences to better represent Indigenous art and cultures.

The panel members consisted of Open Space’s Aboriginal Curator-in-Residence France Trépanier; Grunt Gallery’s Program director Glenn Alteen; Vancouver Art Gallery’s Chief Curator and Associate Director Daina Augaitis; and Scotia Bank Dance Centre Artist-in-Residence and UBC Art History professor Dr. Miquel Dangeli. The talk was witnessed by Haida Heritage Centre’s curator Nika Collison.

Protocol and Performance art

In the discussion, the participants revisited their understanding of the performance piece, and defined their roles in the performance, if any. Some panel members had a hand in implementing the performance, with roles as Fuse organizer and Art Gallery curator. This brings me to protocols – while there are no set rules that all First Nations/ Metis/Inuit peoples can use to guide their performance work, there are Indigenous concepts that can help one to meet protocol.

The Four Rs: Respect, Relevance, Reciprocity, Responsibility. The 4 Rs are often used to conceptualize Indigenous pedagogy for Western educational systems. When looking at the Angela Brown performance at the Vancouver Art Gallery, one can easily check protocols by using the 4 Rs: does it respect Haida dance/culture/art? What is it’s relevance to the Haida culture/Indigenous culture/dance? Is this a one-sided relationship or is anything reciprocated? And is this performance being responsible for its use of Indigenous/non-Indigenous actors/performers? These questions are meant to shed light on the power inequalities that can create imbalanced and damaging relationships. Francis Trépanier asked that we use a 5^th R: Reverence – that is, the meditative and spiritual feeling of awe.

Another concept explored was “re-enactment” in performance. The performance was cited by the choreographer Angela Brown as being a “re-enactment” of a 1970s performance on Haida Gwaii by performer Evelyn Roth and artist Robert Davidson. Artist Robert Davidson was present at the discussion, and stated that he had never given permission nor did he know about this “re-enactment” performance. The concept of a “re-enactment” was questioned, as the original performance did not resemble the Fuse performance.

Protocol in the Art Gallery

The bigger issue that emerged from the discussion was the importance of having Indigenous perspectives in Institutional spaces that represent Indigenous peoples and cultures. The issue of responsibility means that institutions such as art galleries, museums and schools need to address the underrepresentation of Indigenous people, particularly in higher levels of planning and curating. The Vancouver Art Gallery is planning the construction of a new gallery space, with a dedicated space to Northwest Coast First Nations Art, so there is huge potential for collaboration and community-building. The underrepresentation of Indigenous perspectives needs to start with community – we need to look at the “art community” as it exists and find ways to include diversity. The location of the Vancouver Art Gallery on Coast Salish land – Musqueam, Tsleil-Waututh and Squamish Nations – gives many opportunities to “reconcile”, collaborate and educate.

Witnessing

To conclude the discussion, Haida Heritage Centre Curator Nika Collison shared her notes from what she witnessed. Nika noted all the problems that arose from the discussion : misrepresentation, re-enactment, permission, underrepresentation. After which, she notes all of the positive concepts: the 5 Rs; collaboration, future goals, creating new communities. This discussion reveals the ways in which we can learn from mistakes and look forward to creating a positive and more inclusive future.

Witnessing this discussion reminded me of my own responsibilities as an Indigenous artist. When I create an artwork, I am representing not only myself but also my family, clan, community, ancestors and Nation. It would be nice to hear from the choreographer to see what her side of the story is, or to allow her the room to acknowledge her actions.

Works Cited

Vancouver Art Gallery FUSE: Transform

Reel Reservations: Number 14 and Dancing the Space In Between

ermen’s notes for FNIS 401M presentation:

Reel Reservations Films Shown: Number 14, Dancing the Space In Between

Synopsis: This ‘docu-drama’ is about a 17 year old Gitxsan and Coast Salish hockey player named Jordan Wilson. Jordan is a kind and charismatic young man who loves his family, is involved with his community and is a naturally talented fisher. We spend the first half of the movie following Sasha Perry, the actor playing Jordan, through what seems like a normal day. He wakes up, plays video games, checks his facebook page and gets ready for his hockey game later that day. During the game, we are provided facebook updates from his family and learn of his altruism when he passes the winning shot to a teammate who hasn’t scored a goal all season. Jordan plans to stay home the evening after the game, but he receives what seem like endless texts asking where he is, when will he get there, do you know whose here?? Jordan ends up going to the party, though his parents think he has stayed home. At the party, he drinks beyond his capacity and gets highly intoxicated. On his walk home, he gets into a car that we have previously learned is his dream car and it has the keys in it. While he is sitting in the driver’s seat he gets a text from his sister saying that his friend Mike, who he had been looking for earlier, had crashed his bicycle on the way home and was at the hospital. Some of Jordan’s family members believe that he was trying to make sure his friend was ok when he started the car and began driving toward the vicinity of the hospital. He gets into a fatal car crash to the devastation of his family, community and team.

Maintenance of protocol: Before the screenings began, the MC of the event began by making a land acknowledgement and thanking the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil Waututh people for the continued use of their lands. This acknowledgement was noticeably different, for me, than at many of the other events I have attended – the difference was that there was no round of applause after the speaker was finished. I don’t know which factors may contribute to these differences in reception and reaction of a land acknowledgement.

Protocol was also maintained throughout the talkback which occurred after the show. Everyone who decided to ask a question of or give a comment to Jordan’s mother first thanked her for sharing her story and for allowing them to be a part of the message that Jordan had for the world, and she would return the thanks. During the talkback, there was also a lot of discussion on the grassroots nature of this film and the support and strength of the Gitxsan community and family network. Marie Clements is dedicated to Jordan’s story and his family, community included. Some of the talkback discussion was about how Jordan’s story pushes against stereotypes for Native Youth and shows the strong and rippling impact that the youth have on a family, a community, a Nation. All of this reminded me of Nolan’s discussions of ceremony throughout that titular chapter of Medicine Shows. The ceremony discussed by Nolan in the context of performance and performance based media involves the processes of speaking, singing, and dancing people, places and times into existence. Jordan’s mom shared with the audience how she ended up working with Marie because she felt that Jordan had a message to share and more work to do for people left behind. This film will hopefully be shown in highschools are to hockey teams in order to help teach youth the importance of relying on your loved ones and also the importance of making sure you are actively teaching the children around you how to stay safe. The short piece played after Number 14 was called Dancing the Space In Between and was a comment on the time and space between life and death and the ceremony song and dance that occupy that space. It is very complementary and grounding after the very emotional showing of Number 14.

Discussion Question: – What are some of the other ways we have witnessed / heard about performances and performance based media that function acts of healing and teaching for audiences and communities?

-ermen

Choreographic ‘Re-membering’: Dancing “In Motion” at the TSF

THE DANCE PERFORMANCES

Seeing the two dance works The NDN Way and Greed featured at the Talking Stick Festival’s In Motion definitely stirred up the inner dancer in me. Taking place on February 26, 2016 at the Roundhouse Community Arts & Recreation Centre, I became really immersed in making interpretations on how the choreography was speaking to the dancers’ actions and apparent narratives on Indigeneity taking place.

The NDN Way was a duet choreographed by Brian Solomon and performed with Marianna Medellin-Minke. Brian, of Anishnaabe and Irish descent born in a remote Northern Ontario village (Shebanoning/Killarney), is also a Visual Artist and Actor who trained in classical and contemporary dance at the School of Toronto Dance Theatre with an MA in Performance from the Laban Centre in London, UK. He is very interested in engaging with unusual spaces in communities, and is passionate about helping people relearn about their ‘forgotten bodies’ and finding ways of “taking back the space those bodies occupy”. Marianna, born in Torreón, Coahuila, Mexico Mariana Gamar del Carmen, began with studying classical ballet before furthering her studies also at the School of Toronto Dance Theatre. She seeks to create works that are social commentaries which continually deviate within a negative and positive perspective. The NDN Way featured the voiceover of Brian reciting spiritual teachings from Cindy Bisaillon’s 1974 interview with Ron Evans, known as a Métis storyteller who grew up living in the traditional ways in one of the last nomadic Métis communities, along with a mash-up of music from all styles, and seemed to combine moments of playfulness, struggle, and ceremony.

Greed, on the other hand, had a much more dreary and sombre atmosphere which felt more challenging for me to decipher the particular narrative going on, as it drew upon issues surrounding the stock market and the influences of corporate interests and capitalism on Indigenous peoples and cultural practices. Choreographed by Byron Chief-Moon, a member of the Kainai Nation of the Blackfoot Confederacy in southern Alberta who is an actor, choreographer, dancer, and playwright who seeks to explore dance as a way to incorporate nuances of storytelling through his blood memory. Alongside Byron, three other dancers performed, including Jerry Longboat (Mohawk-Cayuga, Turtle clan, from Six Nations of the Grand River in Southern Ontario who is a visual artist, graphic designer, actor, storyteller, dancer, and choreographer whose performance work is rooted in his personal history and experience and embodies a vision of understanding and honouring the diversity of indigenous culture), Olivia Davies (an independent dance artist and choreographer who honours her mixed Welsh-Metis-Anishnawbe heritage in her contemporary Aboriginal dance-theatre practice through an investigation of the body’s dynamic ability to transmit narrative through exploring shared history, personal legacy, and blood memory), and Luglio Romero (a dancer who has a classical ballet background and has trained at Costa Rica’s Compania Nacional de Danza and SFU’s School of Contemporary Dance). Greed was initially created for the 10x10x10 Dance and Music event held at the Scotiabank Dance Centre in Vancouver during October 2011, where composers were partnered up with choreographers to create a 10 minute dance piece that integrated the composers’ music. Byron Chief-Moon was partnered with composer Jeffrey Ryan, who focused on Ryan’s work Triple Witching, a music piece that refers to “times in the stock market when millions can be won or lost”. The original 10 minute piece served as a starting point that became this version we saw, in which Chief-Moon aspired to expand the choreographic language to interweave First Nation’s concepts of greed and imbalance, and as a way to “highlight Canada’s systematic disenfranchisement of First Peoples from the land and its resources”.

REVIEW HIGHLIGHTS (from past performances of Greed):

“The challenge for the choreographer comes with being confronted with something outside of their normal range of choices—and that should provoke completely new ideas. That’s proven true for local choreographer Byron Chief-Moon.”

-Janet Smith, Georgia Straight, Oct 2011

“Longboat’s interpretation explores greed and remorse among First Nations people, addressing the imbalance created by early contact with Europeans and the subsequent loss of lands and culture. His choreography is a blend of native and contemporary dance. While sincere in performance, the dance movement itself needs more definition.”

-Paula Citron, The Globe & Mail, June 2015

WITNESSING

Throughout the whole performance, I was writing down notes about the kinds of movements and expressions taking place as I interpreted them, attempting to reflect on found meanings that may have been rising out of movements and choreography (as I am a dancer myself). After reflecting on these notes as a whole, I found that Ric Knowles’ discussion on rape and sexual violence on First Nations women in his article “The Heart of Its Women” can also be related to aspects of choreography and context found in these performances. Knowles introduces the idea of ‘re-membering’ as a way of working together “to resist the global scope of the colonial project… to serve as agents of anticolonial and anti-imperial resistance and healing” through embodiment (137). In relation, he brings awareness to the idea of individual and community ‘dismemberment’, which he describes as “agents of ethnic cleansing and cultural genocide”, and states that it “can be healed only through an embodied cultural re-membering” (136-7). Since Solomon and Chief-Moon have also stated that their practices seek to explore cultural reconnection, I found particular aspects of their choreographies in which I feel Knowles’ notion of ‘re-membering’ through embodiment has come out.

The NDN Way

example 1

The choreography started off slowly with both Brian and Marianna lying on the ground, curled up in a fetal position facing away from the audience. Marianna began by making subtle gestures, turning into slow pulses, and then eventually getting up onto her hands and knees, crawling in an animal position as the voiceover stated “animal brothers and sisters share life”. There were other moments throughout their performance when these animal-like movements would be made too, and I saw these motions in combination with having heard this line from the voiceover as a ‘re-membering’ of our connected relation with the animals, and as a way of showing how this connection is rooted in our bodies through mimicking their actions.

example 2

In another scene later on, the voiceover states “we see in the nature around us our inner reality”. In response to this, the dancers, who had been holding eye contact with each other while kneeling down at opposite ends of a long box for awhile, look away to stare directly at the audience, remaining this way as they began a synchronized movement of bringing the sides of their heads together, and then sliding downstage towards the audience with their arms reaching out to us. Soon after, this connection was broken as they separated and moved back upstage into the position they once were in. Through this literal attachment of their bodies and minds coming together, I saw this as a temporal moment of ‘re-membering’ how we all share the same nature together as a form of ‘anticolonial resistance’. With a kind of cycle occurring through their return and disconnection after, I thought this could have stood as an act of ‘dismemberment’, showing that cultural reconnection is not always easy to hold on to as an effect of the strong forces of Knowles’ term ‘ethnic cleansing’.

example 3

In a scene closer towards the end, Brian goes on a vision quest. Marianna transitions the set on stage, turning the boxes into angular directions that appeared to be models of buildings, while he enacts smoking a pipe with tobacco. The voiceover states “you’ll learn something about yourself” as he closes his eyes and sits on his knees. He starts doing this pulsing motion that resembles a kind of movement in contemporary dance of suspending oneself onto the bridge of their feet, where his lower thighs were lifted up as he balanced his whole body using the strength of his toes. This action was as if he was beginning to build up strength through his body through a ‘re-membering’ of his purpose as an individual through the vision quest. After this moment, he transitioned into a deep lounge position towards us, bringing his arms up and circling them at rapid speed around his body, which illuminated a kind of glowing light in interaction with the spotlight from above. To me, this signified a complete breakthrough of finding strength through a ‘re-membering’ of his own cultural self in relation to this ceremonial practice.

Greed

example 1

Compared to having voiceovers to help describe the visual enactments of the dancers, having no verbal words in Greed may speak to the silencing of Indigenous voices as a result of what Knowles’ discusses as the ‘colonial project’, as dancers appeared to be encapsulated in this corporate dreary world and are seeking ways to escape it through attempts of ‘re-membering’.

example 2

At the beginning, the tone of the dance was established as what one of my dance teachers has described as a ‘collective consciousness’, in which the group of dancers existed in the same time and space by being with each other, with the three men lifting up Olivia into the air as she reached her arms above into a ‘V-shape’ position. I thought that this demonstrated the community aspect Knowles brought up in relation to embodied cultural ‘re-membering’, immediately asserting that each of the dancers are in this journey of undertaking struggle together. Much of the choreography that followed featured much more violent imagery of suffering and pain, of which included slow, dragging, zombie-like steps and twisted and distorted ‘ronde-de-jambe’ ballet movements (circling of the legs with feet touching ground) by Olivia, sudden collapses onto the ground, intense trembling and shaking, sharp angular distortions of the arm hitting parts of the body, and a gesture of always covering one side of the face with their hands.

example 3

I found that the choreography in this performance combined more traditional movements of Indigenous dance forms with contemporary and classical dance styles compared to The NDN Way. In one scene, one of the male dancers started doing these motions that seemed to combine split jumps and deep lounges/knee bends (as in jazz dance) with hops and steps from traditional ways of moving in Indigenous cultures. This followed by stepping turns that slightly resembled turns in contemporary dance called ‘shinay’ turns, and also appeared to be acting as bird-like hops with the opening of his arms, which immediately connected me to an image of a thunderbird or eagle. In Knowles’ article, he included a quotation from Sandra Richards, in which she states that “cultural memories and traditions passed on in unspoken, embodied, and performative ways through everyday habit and ritual can work to resist attempted erasures” (143-4). I think that the performativity of these embodied actions of a fusion of traditional and contemporary dance forms and imagery can speak to this as a moment of ‘re-membering’.

ending thought

I feel that these dancers in both performances were able to embody a place of ‘re-membering’ they may not have otherwise been able to reach through other kind of ways (such as verbally). Through their activated bodies, they were able to drive an internal force that pushed them to engage in these moments of ‘re-membering’ in light of their shared experiences of pain and struggle, and were able to release that momentum for us as the audience to become embraced by.

—

See more! (presentation slides):

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1KXRFJT8yGJcd84YCkyKMrN_75KAUD6k_oEsadRhY28Y/edit?usp=sharing

An Act of Medicine: From Huff to Hobiyee

On February 6^th, I witnessed two performances back to back with only a 20-minute bus ride in between. Both Huff and Hobiyee were intense, with some beautiful moments, audience participation, and ceremony. Yet it was the combination of both recognizable similarities and stark contrast that struck me the hardest after having witnessed the two performances.

Huff, written and performed by Cree actor Cliff Cardinal and directed by Karin Randoja, was honestly incredibly hard to watch. The story of three brothers struggling to live on a reservation included insights into the prevalent issues of substance abuse, incest and sexual abuse, mental abuse used as punishment in the reserve school system, inadequate parenting, foetal alcohol spectrum disorder, domestic violence, depression (in both adults and children), and suicide. In Medicine Shows, Yvette Nolan discusses this act of exposing poison (pages 7-19), and it is obvious that Cliff Cardinal is intentionally exposing these poisons to the wider public through his nationwide tour of Huff. The discomfort that the performance provoked testifies to this; there were more than a few moments when I felt my pulse racing, my face flushing, and my head become dizzy as visceral reactions to the trauma that was being revealed onstage. Nevertheless, Huff can also be seen as an enormous act of medicine (which Nolan discusses throughout her book). The humour felt in some moments of comic relief showed us that we were still able to laugh, and toward the end of the play Kokhum (the grandmother) conducts a healing ceremony for Wind (the middle brother) after his younger brother Huff’s suicide. Overall, the play can be seen as an grand act of good medicine. Cliff Cardinal, an Indigenous actor who is familiar with the traumas of everyday life for children on reserves, raises awareness of this in front of a mostly-elite audience. (Tickets cost $23; therefore, only those who could afford it attended the show.) In addition, the events that Cardinal depicts can reach deep inside witnesses for whom these traumas trigger certain memories, perhaps making them reconsider something they’ve forgotten or bringing to light repressed thoughts in need of healing. Throughout the performance, it became clear that Huff serves to bring together individuals and communities in order to find support in one another.

Upon exiting the Firehall Arts Centre on East Cordova Street in the Downtown East Side, I seemed to suddenly be aware of my surroundings. Exiting an environment full of awareness-raising and calls for healing into an area in which all of the poisons previously exposed are still very prevalent was absurd. I could not help but feel an enormous discomfort whilst walking to the bus stop and riding the bus for 20 minutes on my way to the PNE for Hobiyee—the Nisga’a New Year celebration.

When I arrived at the PNE, I was still feeling some leftover visceral reactions from Huff. Yet upon entering the great hall and finding myself in a crowd of thousands of people—all revelling and celebrating the largest annual gathering of Northwest Coast First Nations dance groups—my spirits were lifted. I remember feeling absolutely in awe whilst witnessing a group of hundreds of drummers (amongst whom was Professor Dangeli) perform a set of songs with synchronised movements to what truly felt like the heartbeat of the Earth. Soon afterward a friend of mine arrived, so we found some seats in the bleachers and watched a number of dance groups perform. My favourite performance (both because of my connection to Professor Dangeli and because of the inventiveness and elegance of their choreographies) was her group, the Git Hayetsk Dancers. I especially enjoyed their innovative “Photographer Dance”, which I suppose was inspired by Professor Dangeli’s PhD research. I was also very impressed as to how quickly the dancers, especially Professor Dangeli, changed regalia in between each dance. Revelry surrounded us, as seen by the food, the packages of fresh fruits handed out to guests, and the smiles on people’s faces. Between many of the songs, a leader with the microphone would sing a joyous “Hooobiyeeeeeee”, which was then echoed by all of the witnesses in the stadium. What a change to the tears, shivers, and headaches that we had experienced earlier at Huff.

Huff and Hobiyee can, on one hand, be seen as performances on opposite sides of a spectrum: one exposing the extreme difficulties of everyday life for Indigenous residents of reserves, and the other celebrating an occasion that has taken place annually for thousands of years (the enormous number of attendees more than testifying to, but rather shouting: “We are still here!”). On the other hand, both performances are acts of medicine. Huff brings together those in need of healing, and Hobiyee can provide that healing through community, tradition, and celebration. Witnessed one after the other, these two performances together told an incredible story of struggle, healing, and resurgence.