INQUIRE 1 2015 1-15 1 ‘Like Electricity from the Wires’ Africanist Aesthetics in American Dance* Allyson Yoder Herberger Institute for Design and the Arts, Barrett, the Honors College Introduction I was sitting at the back of the dance history classroom when the term “Africanist aesthetic” fell like a bomb into the crowd of post-modern, post-national, and righteously post-racial college undergraduates. Many students, myself included, believed the term “Africanist aesthetic” was coined by white scholars in order to simplify, reduce, isolate and essentialize the complexities of a continent we had too often heard referred to as a country. Our white professor, taken aback by the open resistance and anger present in the classroom, struggled to understand and respond to the tension, and the thinly veiled accusations of racism being thrown at her. Rather than delving in to the discomfort, the class moved forward with no satisfactory resolution. *This paper was first written as an honors contract for DCE 301, “Meaning in Motion,” taught by Dr. Naomi Jackson Copyright © 2015 Allyson Yoder: ajyoder@asu.edu 2 I was deeply aware of my own unsettled state walking out of class that day, and my discomfort spurred me to investigate further. This paper is the result of that investigation, both personal and academic. In it, I will seek to define and contextualize the term “Africanist aesthetic” and its relationship to American dance. I will draw heavily from the work of Brenda Dixon Gottschild in addressing ways in which a Eurocentric writing of history, a process of cultural appropriation by a dominant culture, has systematically erased or ‘invisibilized’ the role of Africanist aesthetics and epistemologies in shaping and innovating American dance; the paper also offers suggestions for how this invisibilization might be rectified. Finally, in recognition of the fact that this particular research project has included a deeply personal process of internal investigation and examination, I offer a personal reflection on the ways in which I too embody the Africanist presence in my movement, body, and artistic practice. What is the “Africanist Aesthetic”? The word “aesthetic” refers to human perceptions of what is beautiful, true, normal, good or real. Aesthetic preferences and values are informed by, and subject to, the filter of one’s cultural environment (Welsh-Asante, 116). Thus, the expression of aesthetics through artistic production is neither random nor superficial, but a window into cultural values, cosmologies, and ways of knowing. The term “Africanist aesthetics” refers to concepts and practices that exist both in Africa and the African diaspora, and may be traced to sources in African cultural concepts and practices (Gottschild, xiv). Scholars such as Robert Farris Thompson, Marshall and Jean Stearns, Susan Vogel, Omofolabo Soyinka Ajayi, and Kariamu Welsh Asante study how African cosmologies are manifested in aesthetic qualities that recur across varied artistic mediums, cultural groups, and geographic contexts in Africa. From this research, they identify some broad commonalities: qualities of aesthetic processes and production that are referred to as ‘Africanist aesthetics’. 3 Qualities of the Africanist Aesthetic in Dance Among the aesthetic qualities identified, some are particularly relevant to the field of dance. These aesthetics are expressed through the body’s posture, energy, movement, and relationship to time and space. The six qualities which I will discuss are ephebism, suspension of the beat, descending direction, polyrhythm, connection to ritual, and the aesthetic of the cool. Before I trace the impact of these qualities on American dance, I will first define and illustrate them in the context of their African roots. To do so, I will sometimes contrast Africanist aesthetics with Europeanist aesthetics. This is not because I wish to define Africa in terms of its ‘otherness’ or difference from the West, for as Maria Eriksson Baaz discusses, such dichotomous systems of cultural representation frequently serve to uphold notions of a “barbaric” Africa and a “civilized” West (Baaz, 8). However, by offering a contrast I hope to provide a clearer depiction of the concept for readers, who, like myself, may be more familiar with Europeanist aesthetics. I will also make reference to video examples, which the reader may find in the Appendix, to illustrate these concepts in action. The examples include dances from Zimbabwe, East Guinea, Ghana, and Nigeria. 1. Ephebism/Youthfulness. The term Ephebism, derived from the Greek word for “youth,” describes the youthful drive and energy that characterizes African dance. Youthfulness is expressed through “high intensity,” “drive” and “flexibility” of the dancer, and the sharpness, force, and attack of his or her movement (Thompson, 9). The dancer must apply these qualities consistently and democratically across all parts of the body (Thompson, 7). It is important to note that while many cultures around the world find a youthful aesthetic pleasing, this should not be mistaken for ephebism. For example, in Europeanist aesthetics of classical ballet, there is a strong preference for youthful bodies. Hence, it is uncommon to see dancers above the age of forty participating or performing in dance (Maroosha). Ephebism, in contrast, has nothing to do with physical age, and everything to do with energetic quality. As Thompson notes, “people in Africa, regardless of their actual age, return to strong youthful 4 patterning whenever they move” (7). Similarly, Welsh-Asante recounts a performance by a sixty-four year old man in the National Dance Company of Zimbabwe who had “no discernible difference” in energy from the fourteen-year old boy dancing next to him (97). Many of the qualities of ephebism are evident in the Bawa dance, performed among the Lobi and Dagarba people from the Upper West region of Ghana. Movements are fast, sharp and percussive, and all parts of the body are activated: elbows, torsos, knees, gaze. Even when the women are dancing the men continue to pulse their torsos steadily, creating a sense of vitality and life throughout. 2. Suspension of the beat. In European classical music, beats are counted and organized into even, regular groupings. In African music, rhythmic patterns are frequently delayed and intentionally disrupted. In dance, this can be manifested as the continuation of a repeated stepping pattern that counterpoints or sustains against changes in rhythm. In the Muchongoyo, a traditional dance from Zimbabwe with militaristic origins, patterns of staccato stamping and intermittent clapping are interrupted and intentionally disrupted by sudden pauses, drops to lower levels, and kicks. This creates a sense of suspension and surprise in the dance. 3. Descending direction, or the “get down” quality. A strong connection to the earth and a downward direction of energy are characteristics of what Farris Thompson calls “the get down quality” of African dance. This aesthetic may be expressed by sustaining a body posture with deep bends in the knees and at the waist, maintaining the connection of feet to the ground through dragging, stomping, and gliding movements, and using the downward momentum of gravity to create a sense of weight and power. Movements performed lowest to the ground tend also to be associated with the highest degree of virtuosity, power, and energy, while more upright postures tend to carry a more laid back energy (Thompson 14). These dynamic contrasts are observable in the Ewe dance from the Volta region of Ghana. The dancers begin in an upright posture where they rest by placing their hands on their hips and repeating a lower- 5 impact step-kick pattern. The sequence of drops to the ground and movements performed lower place much higher demands on the dancer’s energy and technicality. In the case of descending direction, Europeanist aesthetics provide a useful contrast. In classical ballet, energy is constantly directed up and away from the earth. Male ballet dancers attempt to convey an illusion of weightlessness through buoyant jumps, emphasizing height, while female ballerinas keep only the tips of their toes connected to the ground. Contrast the drops and downward force of the Ewe dancers with the gravity-defying leaps of ballet virtuoso Mikhail Barishnikov to understand this difference. 4. Polyrhythm. Kariamu Welsh-Asante considers the presence of polyrhythm, or the expression of multiple meters at once, “the single most prominent characteristic” of Zimbabwean dance and many other African dances (117). The overlapping of simple rhythms in different meters creates the rhythmic complexity and variance that characterizes polyrhythm. In dance, polyrhythms are embodied as dancers “play” the body like a polyrhythmic instrument, using different body parts to express two, three, and even—with the most skilled dancers—four meters at the same time. Watching the arms, legs, and torsos of the dancers performing the fast-paced Kassa, a harvest dance from East Guinea, one can observe the dizzying complexity created as arms and legs follow different rhythmic patterns. 5. Connection to Ritual. The importance of dance in ritual and spiritual life in African cultures cannot be overlooked. The role of ritual dance is to “enforce and affirm the belief system of a society,” serving the community “as a visual, kinetic, spiritual, and dynamic manifestation of the cosmology of the people” (Welsh-Asante, 8). Katrina Hazzard-Gordon discusses the role of dance as a “mediating force between people and the world of the gods (3). One example of this is the Mbira dance, a traditional dance of the Shona people of Zimbabwe. This dance is performed in order to “incite spirits to come out through spirit mediums and speak to the people” (Welsh-Asante, 30). Dance’s connection to ritual and the spiritual 6 realm is not about the aesthetics of style or form, but rather of perception. In this context, dance is understood as a spiritual and communal act. 6. Aesthetic of the Cool. Robert Farris Thompson discusses the philosophy of the “cool” in African society, an attribute which “combines notions of composure, silence, vitality, healing, and social purification” (44). Coolness represents a right way of living, one in which the individual has composure over his or her emotions and energy. In dance, coolness is expressed through a composed, serene face, maintained even while the body “dances hot” with energy and ephebism (45). In “The Diaspora Dance Boom,” Brenda Dixon Gottschild discusses this dynamic of the “cool” in dance, and relates it to the control of energy. Gottschild contrasts Europeanist and Africanist approaches: The Europeanist attitude suggests centeredness, control, linearity, directness. Energy is controlled by form. The Africanist mode suggests asymmetricality (that plays with falling off center), looseness (implying flexibility, vitality, and the possibility of improvisation, even danger), and indirectness of approach. Here energy dictates and controls the form (5). In other words, although Europeanist and Africanist aesthetics in dance value control, this value, like the value of youth, is expressed in very different ways. The notion of the ‘cool’ in Africanist aesthetics incorporates a sense of play and spontaneity that the linear discipline of the Europeanist model lacks. As Gottschild reminds us “aesthetic processes and products are a matter of shifting principles and living landscapes” (1). The qualities of Africanist aesthetics in dance discussed are not fixed or static measures of cultural authenticity; they change and evolve. Contemporary cultural production in Africa may manifest these aesthetics in very different ways than in the traditional rural societies studied by Robert Farris Thompson. In America, the Africanist presence, through decades of oppression, innovation, assimilation, and creativity, has been woven tightly into the fabric of arts and culture. 7 Influences of the Diaspora: Africanist Presence in American Culture The African diaspora, or forced dispersion of African peoples primarily from Western and Central Africa to the Americas and Caribbean during the transatlantic slave trade of the 1500s-1800s, also resulted in the dispersion of Africanist aesthetics, practices, epistemologies, and values. Since then, the Africanist presence in American culture has been expressed and repressed, appropriated and assimilated, transformed, reclaimed, reinvented, and inextricably woven into America’s cultural fabric. So, too, have African dance traditions and aesthetics been transformed and assimilated. Katrina Hazzard-Gordon discusses the cultural hybridization that occurred when individuals from the varied regions, languages, and backgrounds of South and Western Africa shared the horror of the middle passage, the experience of slavery, and the assaults on their cultural expressions and value systems by white European plantation owners, slave traders, and others: Shared customs cemented relationships and unfamiliar ones provided material for new cultural amalgams. African groups were by no means undifferentiated, but they were culturally more similar to each other than any of them were to Europeans (13). Hazzard-Gordon suggests that dance, as a non-verbal language, was an ideal mechanism for this assimilation process to occur. The shared aesthetics and movement qualities of Western and Central African dance forms would have blended more easily than the distinctions created by language or religious practices. Over time, while many aesthetic qualities were maintained and adapted, other differences between African and African-American dance aesthetics and values became pronounced. For example, the previously sacred role of dance as a way of embodying spirits became much more secular for many African-Americans, as religious practices and beliefs changed (18). The process of cultural exchange and hybridization not only took place between and among African cultures. Over time, Africanist aesthetics and culture met and blended with Native American indigenous cultures, Europeanist colonial cultures, and the many other cultural 8 groups arriving through migration. This dynamic of cultural exchange and interaction has been integral to creating American cultural identity, and American dance. However, the prevalence of Eurocentric perspectives in the history textbooks, and the hegemony of dominant culture, have created a systematic denial of that reality. It is only recently that some dance historians and scholars have seriously begun to deconstruct the traditional telling of American dance history to reveal the implications of this denial. Appropriation and Invisibilization Dance scholar and historian Brenda Dixon Gottschild reveals the ways in which Africanist aesthetics, values and influences have been absorbed and “invisiblized” into hegemonic culture to the benefit of white artists. She argues that “the Africanist presence in American culture has shaped a New World legacy that sets American culture apart from that of Western Europe…at the same time, it has suffered from sins of commission and omission; it has been “invisibilized.” She describes a cycle of appropriation, approximation and assimilation through which this process occurs, and addresses two primary ways by which white dancers and choreographers often benefit as a result. To illustrate these two mechanisms of appropriation, and their effects, I will examine the careers of two “pioneers” of American dance: Ruth St. Denis and George Balanchine. The first way appropriation may take place is through the conscious adoption and exploitation of qualities seen as “other” or exotic. bell hooks describes the fascination of white or “commodity” culture with encountering the exoticized “other”: “within commodity culture, ethnicity becomes spice, seasoning that can liven up the dull dish that is mainstream white culture” (21). As a result, when white artists dress up in the aesthetic, physical, or performative qualities of “exoticism” they can often exploit this appetite for their own success. The career of Ruth St. Denis, often lauded as one of the mothers of American modern dance, exemplifies this. As a depiction of St. Denis in the “Dance Heritage Collection” shows, her appropriation of Orientalist aesthetics allowed her to craft a unique and appealing artistic identity. Born an “ordinary” girl 9 on a New Jersey farm, Ruth Denis turned herself into an icon who gained fame and recognition for her depictions of the “spiritual” and “exotic:” In Radha, St. Denis engages with Indian temple dance…evoked through an exotic costume and set design. St. Denis’s repertoire addressed a select audience, which enjoyed the eclectic mixture of eroticism and sensuality that was rooted in her deep passion for spiritual practices. Although the article does not paint it as such, St. Denis’s performance may be understood as an approximation of a generalized “Orientalist” aesthetic which, tied to an alluring sensuality, fed the appetites of white audiences craving a taste of exoticism. There are numerous examples of this manner of appropriation of so-called “black” dance by white artists. The practice of blackface minstrelsy is probably one of the best historical examples. Using burnt cork to darken their faces, white performers would sing and dance a representation of blackness on stage and in cinema. Rogin discusses how Jewish immigrants to the United States, such as Al Jolson, were able to acquire “American Credentials” through blackface performance, considered a distinctly American cultural form. By appropriating the pretense of black “otherness,” immigrant performers actually proved their whiteness in order to assimilate into American culture. Miley Cyrus’s recent performance at the 2013 VMA awards exemplifies, for many, the continuation of such appropriation into the modern day (Cottom). As the widespread outrage in response to that performance indicates, such instances of appropriation by individual artists are typically recognized and shamed today. However, elements of the Africanist aesthetic have also been appropriated in more subtle ways, as the career of George Balanchine shows. Gottschild unpacks the qualities that distinguished the innovations of Balanchine on contemporary ballet to reveal their roots in Africanist aesthetics, citing Balanchine’s early exposure to Africanist influences in Europe and subsequent fascination with African dance aesthetics (and bodies) upon his arrival in the United States as proof of this influence. She 10 points out that qualities such as the “aesthetic of the cool,” the “energy, attack, and speed” of ephebism, and the use of syncopation and nontraditional timing are precisely the characteristics that made Balanchine’s choreography so electrifying to audiences (68). In order to understand these points, it is helpful to compare an example of Balanchine’s new ‘American’ ballet against a traditionally Europeanist, classical ballet from around the same period. In a duet from Swan Lake filmed in 1940, dancers Galina Ulanova and Konstantin Sergeyev of the Bolshoi Ballet display classical Europeanist technique. The ballerina displays a safe verticality, except when she falls, to be caught by her partner. The energy is quiet, controlled and delicate. Feet are pointed and the lines fit classical positions. The dancers relate to the beats of the music with steady, measured movements. George Balanchine’s Agon, begun in 1953, looks completely different. The dancers frequently pull off balance, displaying the asymmetricality of the aesthetic of the cool. The grounded push against the floor, downward energy of the jumps, and flexed feet of the male soloist echo the “get-down” energy of Africanist aesthetics. The speed, energy, and attack of the ensemble convey a sense of ephebism. Yet nowhere in description or analysis of this work are Africanist influences ever cited; on the contrary, the movements in Agon are named after French court dances. This is what Gottschild means by ‘invisibilization’. The point is not to question Balanchine’s skill as a choreographer. Rather, it is to address the fact that the African influences that fed his creativity and contributed to his success have systematically been omitted from the Eurocentric painting of the history of contemporary ballet. Did George Balanchine consciously exploit Africanist aesthetics? Did he falsify an exotic identity in order to gain more recognition? No— and that is precisely Gottschild’s point. Because the Africanist presence is part and parcel with American culture, appropriation is no longer the right word to describe the way that white artists like Balanchine benefit from the influence of Africanist aesthetics, values, knowledge, and innovations. As Gottschild describes: 11 Unlike modern or postmodern decisions to appropriate imported elements from Zen Buddhism, yoga, T’ai Chi, Qi-Gong, or other Asian disciplines, the Africanist presence comes to Americans from home base, from the inside. Like electricity through the wires, we draw from it all the time, but few of us are aware of its source. It is marrow in the bones of our culture, or, as Toni Morrison writes, “unspeakable things unspoken.” Making the Invisible Visible As the example of Balanchine demonstrates, the dance forms considered by many to be uniquely ‘American’—from modern dance to Balanchine Ballet to swing to hip-hop—owe much of their character, form and energy to Africanist origins. Yet, within many dance history textbooks and classrooms, this influence yet remains ‘unspoken’. How can this exclusion be rectified? Too often, efforts to compensate for the omissions of European/White-Male-centric history classes fall into the trap of compartmentalizing the experience of everyone else into special courses or curricular addenda, i.e. “African-American History,” “Black Dance in America,” or the month of February. A similar approach is often used to address so-called ‘cultural’ or ‘ethnic’ dances (Kealinohomoku). As an intermediate step, this at least acknowledges the presence of other voices and value systems. But to separate these ‘alternative’ histories from ‘American’ history is to deny their essential role in American identity. As Langston Hughes expressed, “I, too, sing America.” Thus, as Gottschild, Hazard-Gordon, and many others have shown, the compartmentalization of Africanist influences on American dance into a single curricular unit creates a false and limiting distinction. Ultimately, the spirit of Gottschild’s book is about the vitality of the Africanist presence, the enduring and vibrant role that it has played in shaping the American cultural fabric and collective knowledge despite— and sometimes because of—decades of oppression and racism. The problem is that the reality of the Africanist presence has been systematically denied. In identifying and naming the Africanist aesthetic, we do not perpetuate the distance between ‘us’ and ‘them’. Rather, we recognize that the history of the world is one of hybridity, interchange, 12 fusion and evolution. American dance is, and has always been, in the process of an intertextual dialogue between cultures, worldviews and value systems. History itself needs no revision—all that is needed is to recognize and name what has been there all along. “Digging the Africanist Presence” in my own body: a personal reflection A student in a course I teach, “Black Performance from Africa to the Americas,” came up to me at the end of the first session and asked, “should I take this class—I mean, since I’m white?” I looked at her and said, “Honey, you’re taking it right now; you’ve been taking it all your life!” Brenda Dixon Gottschild I was thirteen, and at the middle-school dance. A trained ballerina from a Swiss-German background, I stood in a tight circle with my friends on the edge of the school auditorium, all of us white, all of us selfconsciously two-stepping and looking out of the corners of our eyes at the girls in the center of the room, all of them African-American and Latina, lost in the beat, in their bodies and in the rhythm. “I’m too white to move like that,” my friend laughed, a little uncomfortably. I nodded vigorously, relieved that my skin tone could serve as an excuse for my discomfort on the dance floor even though I claimed the word “dancer” as my identity. For years after, I assumed that my white skin made me a foreigner to ‘black culture’, which to me was represented by rap and hip-hop music, ebonics, and most of all, the ability to ‘get down’ at dances. When the music played, I would express my discomfort by moving with intentional awkwardness, or criticizing the ‘inappropriate’ or ‘offensive’ lyrics, or simply by standing still. And yet, I was a dancer. I loved to dance, craved movement, ate up every minute that I was transformed by dance. I studied ballet at a studio, from a teacher who taught in the style of Balanchine. I loved to embody the crisp, clean precision of ballet, the grace, and the beauty. But even more, I loved the feeling of Balanchine. I still remember the way it made me feel to dance the syncopations and slides of Slaughter on Tenth Avenue: 13 powerful, lean, rhythmic, alive; just on the edge of off-balance; maybe even a little dangerous. Eventually, I quit ballet and became a modern dancer. I came to ASU and studied ‘Post-Modern/Contemporary dance’. I loved the groundedness, the feeling of being rooted in the floor, the sense of power, vitality and strength. The ability to embody dynamic contrasts in movement quality—sudden to soft, sharp changes in direction and focus—was a point of pride for me. So was my ability to hear and respond to the beat of the drums that accompanied our classes, especially the rhythms of syncopation. I became invested in improvisation, the ability to constantly adapt and respond to the moment. I engaged in processes of collaborative creation in a workshop on group improvisations, performances that moved seamlessly through layers of spoken and written and moved languages, that engaged audience members as participants, that held space for contrast and for paradox. And all this time, I did not see it. When the term “Africanist aesthetic” was first introduced to me, I reacted in anger and righteous indignation. My initial desire to research the Africanist aesthetic further stemmed from a need to deconstruct what I was sure was yet another attempt by white people to stereotype, essentialize and otherize African Americans. In the process of researching, however, the opposite effect has occurred. Learning about the Africanist aesthetic has started me on a process of systematically dismantling the assumptions about race that had been building up in my body long before I stood on the sidelines of any middle school dances. In beginning this research process, I asked myself: “’how do I, as a white person, enter this world? What are my reasons for doing so? How do I avoid committing the same errors of distinction, essentialism, reductionism, and stereotyping that perpetuate racism?” I recognize now that my anxieties, though well-intentioned, were misguided. As an American, and a dancer, to study the Africanist aesthetic is not to ‘enter into’ any foreign world. I am in it already. Rather, the point is to recognize, identify and name the way that I, too, embody Africanist aesthetics and ways of knowing. If Gottschild worked to “de-invisibilize” 14 the Africanist presence in American dance, I work to de-invisibilize it in myself. Appendix The videos referenced in this paper, in order of reference, include: BAWA (Unity Drum, in Cape Coast, Ghana). Youtube. N.p., 23 Dec. 2010. Web. 21 May 2015. Muchongoyo. Youtube. Umkhathi Theatre Works, 16 Oct. 2011. Web. 21 May 2015. Ewe Dance from Salaka - Rhythm Power Ghana 2015. Youtube. Simon Fraser, 28 Jan. 2015. Web. 21 May 2015. (1:40-2:26) Mikhail Baryshnikov Don Quixote Final Act. Perf. Mikhail Baryshnikov. Youtube. Excluder93, 28 Feb. 2011. Web. 21 May 2015. Kassa (Harvest Dance).mov. Perf. Voice of Culture, Duniya Drum and Dance, Oyin Dance. Youtube. B30 News and Wild Scissors, 5 Nov. 2011. Web. 21 May 2015. Mbira - Traditional Dance of Zimbabwe. Youtube. Zoya077, 25 July 2011. Web. 21 May 2015. Galina Ulanova and Konstantin Sergeyev – Pas de Deux from Act 2, ‘Swan Lake’ (1940). Perf. Galina Ulanova and Konstantin Sergeyev. Youtube. John Hall, 30 Aug. 2014. Web. 21 May 2015. Agon. Youtube. Béla Schenker, 26 Jan. 2015. Web. 21 May 2015. References Baaz, Maria Eriksson., and Mai Palmberg. "Introduction--African Identity and the Postcolonial." Same and Other: Negotiating African Identity in Cultural Production. Uppsala: Nordiska Afrikainstitutet, 2001. 5-21. Print. Cottom, Tressie MacMillan. “Brown Body, White Wonderland.” Slate. 29 August 2013. Web. 12 December 2014. 15 Gottschild, Brenda D. Digging the Africanist Presence in American Performance: Dance and Other Contexts. Praeger Publishers, Westport, CT. 1998. Gottschild, Brenda D. “The Diaspora DanceBoom (Dance in the World and the World in Dance).” Brenda Dixon Gottschild: Writer on Dance and Culture: Essays. Self-Published online. Web. 11 December 2014. Gottschild, Brenda D. "Stripping the Emperor: The Africanist Presence in American Concert Dance." African Roots/American Cultures: Africa in the Creation of the Americas. Ed. Sheila S. Walker. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2001. 89-103. Hazzard-Gordon, Katrina. "Dancing Under the Lash." Jookin: The Rise of Social Dance Formation in African-American Culture. Philadelphia: Temple UP, 1990. 3-22. Hecht, Thom. “Ruth St. Denis (1879-1968): America’s Divine Dancer.” Dance Heritage Coalition. 2012. 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