Musings

[bethlakshmi]

safirasilv and I must be on the same page... I was gonna write a log bit of musing on last night's Medicine Wheel, which I quite enjoyed. And she has done the same. :) Well... before I read her thoughts, I shall jot down my own.

The brief summary - it was pretty fabulous. Started with Ethiopian dinner, in a 8-person gaggle of dancing ladies, musicians and friends. Spent about 3 hours at the Wheel. Our presentation was very well recieved. We now have spiffy new business cards!!! Which we found the opportunity to hand out. Most ladies were packed up and out by around 10:00. It being quite close to home, I stayed for the next presentation at 10:00 and then meandered out. It was dance and live music, but couldn't have been more different from our presentation - which was not so suprising, but a nice palette alternative.

Now... for more musings on dance, ritual, dance-ritual and my pointy little head


What was this thing you did, Lakshmi?

OK... so first off, for them that don't know, the Medicine Wheel is a day of remembrance held in the Boston Cyclorama. The Cyclorama is a big (auditorium sized) CIRCULAR room in Boston's South End, and it is a part of the Boston Center for the Arts, which is home to many theaters, and a variety of cultural events throughout the year. The Medicine Wheel uses art, and sculpts itself to the circular nature of the cyclorama to remind people of the ongoing AIDS crisis and to give them a time and place (all day Dec. 1st - World AIDS day) to do what they will in remembrance of that. The space is semi-interactive, and the general tone is slightly subdued communalness. By that I mean, mostly it was softer muttering, but a normal speaking tone was OK. When some teenagers were horsing around and making louder noise, you noticed, but it wasn't a huge deal.

Now that the event is done, I feel I can talk a bit about the space. Every year (I'm told) it changes, although every year the space is built around a collection of boxes on pedestals, that are about head-height tall. These boxes come every year and are arranged in a large circle - reminiscent of Stonehenge. Inside many of the boxes are touchstones and reminders - pictures, sea shells, leaves, medallions. Some are things created by the original artist - Micheal Dowling - but some are things people have left there in their own remembrance. Visitors are welcomed to light tea lights and add them to the pedestals as they see fit. Some pedestals are not boxes open on the inner side, they are sealed box-like things, such as an ancient Apple machine, a sealed lead box, a wooden box with a bird-sized hole cut out.

This year the focus was Air. The space was largely open. The entrance was chalkboard, *covered* with counting ticks. Each line represents someone who has died of AIDS. The width of the front of the space is entirely filled with chalkboard and lines. The floor in front is covered with black oragami cranes, covered in even more lines... and inside the entrance hall, a small alcove the size of a small bedroom has yet more lines.

Inside, the circular walls of the cyclorama are covered with repeated maps of the world done in a subdued varnish of browns, greens and mustard yellows. Parts of Africa and S. America are painted black, with red defining the borders - these, I believe, are the heart of the AIDS epidemic. From speakers mounted on the wall, the sound of labored breathing comes out erractically, permeating the space.

Inside the space, there is much space to gather, talk, walk around and such. The beginning of the floor "wheel" leaves a lot of space to even set up sleeping bags, which some folks have done. Inside the ring of boxes on pedestals, a second ring formed entirely of black feathers fills the center of the circle. In the dead center is a striking silvered tree, with no leaves, coming from a circle of stone. In the circle of stone is etched phrases from Rumi. The lighting is such that the tree stands out and is on your mind at all times. There is a single, almost 2 person-wide path through the black feathers so that you can go up close to the tree, read the stone words and think for a few. Interestingly, I sat and enjoyed *watching* people go up in 1s and 2s to this tree, nearly as much as I enjoyed actually doing so myself. The narrow confines of the path restrict it to what goes in, must come out before next goes in. So... while you read and think on the tree, you or the two of you are basically standing there... alone... completely surrounded by black leaves. In a way, you, the observer, become part of the art.

ADD: For pictures, and another very eloquent description - see dervishspin's entry. She was one of the Medicine Wheel veterans and a driving personality the logistics and vision of what we did.

That's ... um... neat... but what did YOU do?

Our plan was to bring something circular to this space, using Middle Eastern dance, esp. veil work as a memorial/meditation ritual. We dressed ourselves in "subdued" clothes, but with plenty of jewelry, and simple, street makeup. Each dancer then was issued a striking BRIGHT red silk habatoi veil. Our musicians had learned a song by Barrage that is both energizing and haunting. It may be a little too ?trancy? ?driving? ?empowering? for a straight up dance performance, but it was PERFECT for this purpose, were we wanted to involve our observers in the dance.

We entered in a stately procession, ringed the circle of crow leaves and did a 3X repetion of a fairly complex veil work sequence that comprised the concepts of sunrise, breath, and "dancing with a partner who isn't there". After three reps, 4 of us (me included) abandoned our red veils and took 2 super long white veils - one at each end. We formed a cross from these and raised and lowered them in sync, while the remaining red-veil dancers did the same in the original circle. The white veil circle set itself up at the entrance to the inner tree-pedestal. At the end, we all gracefully sank to a kneeling position, while the musicians finished up the melody. Finally, we picked up the silk, and made a dancerly exit.

Technical thoughts
Before thinking ritual stuff, there were a few technical thoughts on my brain:
- First - this was easily the most complex veil work we have done. While we only had 2 complex "phrases", the fact that we used identical, striking veils, and did a fairly stark, unison peice really increased the challenge factor on this. I was pretty happy to see that we all seemed to be mostly in synce. Personally, I was happy that as long as I kept my brain on the job of dancing, I was *on*. With music this fluid, that's a challenge.

- Second - placement was a second challenge. Our goal was to be equidistant around the space... we didn't manage that... we were more of a crescent, as we failed to allot enough space at the outset to give the right amount of space in the circle. We probably could have fixed that by either taking one circle around the ring - we'd have naturally eyeballed and lined up. Or by really, really controlling the outflow at the beginning. I think we were all hyped and we didn't take it slow enough at the start.

- Third - we also didn't manage to end up with white veil people in the right spot. We worked around it, moving there at the appointed time. It was a nice save. I think if we do this again... we need more strategy on that. Yeah - I'm a precision nut... but if I don't jot this stuff down, I might not remember it next time.

In hindsight, I'm overall proud of how far we've come technically. When I think back to some of our previous group veil work, I realize how much of a challenge this was by comparison. Working in a circle this large is a challenge, working on veil work that is so slow, with such floaty veils is a challenge. I'm pretty proud of us.

Ritual Thoughts

It's been one hell of a long time since I did dance as ritual anywhere but in private. I randomly dance at home, as the mood suits me - sometimes for a workout, sometimes for practice, sometimes for personal/spiritual reasons... but that's very different. After all, all by my self, I can stop and start when I want, and do whatever I want.

I thought it was really neat to be doing choreography as ritual. Half my brain was dealing with doing the right thing at the right time in the right way, and have of me was focused on lying back and really being mentally part of the experience. In a way, that appreciation was as important as doing the moves right... It hit me that this is so very different from the other dance stuff I do - in this troupe, or elsewhere. Usually my goals are:
- do the right move
- at the right time
- in the right place
- with the right abhinaya - even if it's Burlesque, there is abhinaya
- emit the right... soul? charisma? in Indian dance, it would be sattvikam

In many ways, those last two are not about showing the emotion I am experiencing right now, but showing the emotion my character is experiencing right now. That's not to say I'm not happy, when I'm dancing a happy dance (I'm almost always happy when I dance), or that a dance about hurt feelings doesn't remind me of my own past sadness - those things are what I use to power the abhinaya and sattvikam. But there is an overlying level of technical evaluation and adjustment going on in my brain that I do NOT show the audience. The "thinky face" is not so appropriate to most performances. There's always a part of the brain that is sitting in the driver's seat planning strategy and making sure all moves are clean and good. Yeah, it fucks up now and again... but it's always there.

Impromptu dance is different - not so much about executing a plan. But... even so... if I really want to trance out... I don't generally do it in public. At haflas and goth clubs there's still a part of my brain focused on those around me. Sometimes I'm smiling and connecting, sometimes I'm just aware of what's going on. If nothing else, I'm making sure I won't hit someone or get hit by someone dancing near me.

This was entirely different. With choreography in place, smacking each other was less of an issue (although we had a little scrunching at first). And that the way to bring the audience into this was to experience it, first, and be a guide to it second. So... instead of figuring out what to project... I simply relaxed, put my mind on the moment, and let that come out. That seems kind of like "Well... duh... isn't that what normal people do?" but I don't think it's true for many people. Even in impromptu dancing, we bring our own damage to the floor - maybe we have uncomfy shoes, maybe we don't like a given part of our bodies and wish to hide it, or maybe we've just had so freaking much dance training that we are more comfortable performing than just being...

I've done stuff like "free dance" - a thing held in communal spaces, where you pay an admission, but there is no alcohol and the ambition is not to socialize, but to experience 'pure movement'. Although the attitude does change from "I want to look sexy to attract a partner or look cool" to "I'm moving just for me", I often find this sort of space difficult to work in. Partly because I'm so used to structured dance (even improv can be structured) that it is actual work to break that mold and do something that isn't in the style of one of the dance forms I know. And then... the debate between moving in a way I've been trained and moving in an intentionally impromptu way collide and end up defeating the purpose of free dance.

So... uh... what else?

It's hard to describe what I took away from it. When we ended, I was pretty energized. If there had been a dance circle, I'd probably have gone an danced for a few hours... but the space was not about that. There's a freedom in letting the mind go this way. It is a rare time that I experience that freedom in a public place. There's not really a word for how lovely it was to do so.

I cooled off by meditating a bit, and enjoying watching people and their reactions to the tree. Did a bit of praying, a bit of thinking, and mostly just cooling down.

Spent some time remembering... I may well be among the first set of high school grads who have known about AIDS and HIV transmission prior to most of us being sexually functional. The first person I knew to die of AIDS was Steve, a store owner in P-town, who died when I was 12 or 13. I certainly wasn't interested in sex yet. I realize this is a lot different from folks only a few years older than I. It was terrifying to me. He turned from a ~40 year old guy into an old man of 70 or so within a year's time. After that, I've lost count of the guys I met in Provincetown as a kid, who didn't return the next season... I may be unusual - most of my classmates in Medway High didn't know *a* gay person... and AIDS hadn't hit the hetero population yet.

Also remembering the only member of my family to have died of AIDS - my great aunt and benefactor - Aunt Alice - had a son die of AIDS-related cancer before anyone had diagnosed the HIV virus. At the time it was just a wierd form of cancer... but would later be classified as the cancer that only shows up when a patient has AIDS. He was a gay man in California. I never met Gil - I was a kid when he died, but he'd always lived so far away that a visit was never feasible. But I know of the hole he left in my aunt's life - he was her only child. She lavished love on my father and I in place of him... I was her surrogate grandchild. But... you can't replace one person with another. I'm not sure if Aunt Alice would understand why it was easier to memorialize Gil and Steve here than in a Catholic church... she was my confirmation sponsor, which meant quite a lot to me a the time... but somehow, I find it easier to remember Steve and Gil in a space where they would not be condemned for their choice of who to love.

Comments

[safirasilv.livejournal.com]

Thank you for writing out the details.
Thank you for being able to describe the differences between one kind of dancing and another (which I can't do because it's all kind of trancy for me due to my freaky dance-beserker ability)

*hugs* Thank you for being you.

[lakshmi-amman.livejournal.com]

*hugs* and here I'm all thinking "wow, Anne and Safira managed to sum it up in a paragraph or two, and I've written this novel and still meandered by some very good things that they said..." I suppose it takes all kinds. :)

[goldenoak.livejournal.com]

Your novel is appreciated. :)

I've never done choreographed ritual dance before -- which is an interesting distinction that you made. And I felt that being part of the unison had a ritual power to it that a being single dancer or part of a group of individual dancers never has had for me.

[anne-lj.livejournal.com]

Each dancer is a repeater for the others, like increasing electric signal on a line.

[dreda.livejournal.com]

Ooooooh. That is a fabulous image. Thank you!

[safirasilv.livejournal.com]

That is too perfect! Thank you for putting it so beautifully.

[nerd-chik.livejournal.com]

this sounds so beautiful!