An academic talk, I assume, will have a standard format: “Here’s what I’m going to do, here’s me doing it, here’s what I did, questions?†The do/did/done is usually particular research, lots of (beautiful) jargon (#HomoNationalism, #Schizoanalysis, #FungibilityAndAccumulation), and a take away that blows something (my mind, not something (just blows), etc.). I am used to this format. This format gives me comfort. There is a certain formula/art, if you will, to the standard talk.
When the normal academic talk is disrupted, however, by queer-black-dance identity, I know this talk isn’t just an art form but art itself. Here are some signs:
1. There is a Wii controller that, when it moves, adjusts sounds that I’ve never heard before–whirrs and chants and whizzes and vhroooooongs.
2. Every so often the mouse on screen ventures into the unknown, seemingly jumping from the screen onto the board to drag another window (invisible) into plain sight. As if all computer windows are always open but invisible to the naked eye, all information like atoms, tucked away into the smallest depths of reality, the mouse dragged j-stepping videos into plain sight. J-step over here and over there, and all of a sudden the talk stopped to only watch a video (all with accompanying Wii controller controlled sound).
3. Before long all windows flashed away from the screen and a lone Word document lay in our midst. The cursor blinks in a terrifyingly regular way, more steady than my own heart or the internal metronome keeping the Wii controller controlled. Words, fragments, phrases, and identities appear. Are corrected. Disappear. Move on.
4. There is silence. Between words, sentences, remarks, sounds. He stares back at our staring eyes.
Some talks have audio-visual components, but again–â€I’m playing this for you, here it is, wow, I just played that–cool.†“OH MY, I’m going to play this video for you, BAM, here it is, AH! it just played.â€
This academic talk was less talk more performance art. Hinging on creative interests and experiences as an artist, dancer, queer person of color, it was no surprise that Tomm(ie/y) would disrupt our notions of an academic talk to center himself along the edges, cracks, and space in order to create something that was original and unique. Something that wouldn’t just talk about “Dancing [Black|Queer] Diasporas†but be dancing, black, queer diasporas.
Blackness and Queerness disrupt most things in civil society, if not all things. In my experience they (it, since I identify as Queer) do so in a beautiful way by allowing for more possibilities than first realized.
The talk finished, the questions answered, and then we danced.
We were to dance Black dance insofar as Black dance is an aesthetic style appropriated by some, embodied by some, and rendered (un)intelligible by some. The beat to 212 (by, yes, Azealia Banks) started to play and I knew that this was some pivotal moment in my life. We were beckoned to stand up (if able) and an individual led us through several dance moves that involved hip and bum movement, dropping it low, and sidestepping. We laughed and danced and became community all while the beat beat beat beat beat.
Coming back to campus, coming (back) to academia, and coming back to beloved spaces, it was nice to have a Monday night interrupted with dance, art, performance art, and a big queer audience of which to be a part.
The world said “welcome back†to Ann Arbor and we replied “I guess that . . . gettin eatin.â€
Tag: performance art
Hand Socks & String Monkeys
As children, most of us were given toys which we were encouraged to manipulate through our imaginations. Whether we played with dolls or action figures, we took on the role of orchestrating their actions and encounters with one another. We projected voices and personalities, body language, thoughts, and relationships upon these inanimate objects, which instilled life into them. As time progressed and we matured, we often abandoned that sense of imagination through the cycle of socialization, as we were influenced by society to believe that a hold in reality is more important than a life absorbed in illusory fantasy. However, as civilized members of society, we are advocates for storytelling and the spread of life experiences. As time and technology progresses, those mediums of storytelling often change and transform, but the essence remains. While it began orally, storytelling has many of its roots in theatre and performance art. While as a civilization we prefer stories to be rooted in a realm of realism, the conventions by which we share these stories requires an effort of the imagination. A culmination of ideas and thoughts must be projected through concrete objects–products of reality–to display a more abstract concept of the world via fantastical insights. These imagined thoughts can best be displayed through a medium similar to our childhood toys–via object manipulation. As opposed to simply using objects as tools to do concrete activities, we can throw emotions and human qualities upon these objects to make them relatable to us. It brings them to life.
An example of this is best demonstrated through puppets and marionettes. Like oversized and more intricate action figures, these creations can be manipulated to tell stories of us, as humans. Similar to theatrical performances with actors and props, the art of puppetry relies on the imagination of the viewer and the exact manipulation of the performer. While the digital medium of film can incorporate more precise details of both acting and effects–to inspire the consumer of the media in a more prescribed fashion–live action performance captures a new state of magic. This real world effect inspires more fantastical thought as the performers must be adaptive and clever on their feet, making a more personalized performance, as no iteration of an act will be exactly the same. The same goes for manipulated objects, marionettes and puppets. Marionettes are controlled from above, with strings, while puppets are manipulated from within, by the hands. Taking this into consideration, a puppet often interacts directly with the performer, be it sitting in his lap and conversing or acting on a stage, with the manipulator hidden below. Conversely, marionettes are indirectly influenced by the manipulator, as the strings controlling the movements are tugged from above by an unseen person. Not only does the skill of controlling puppets involve adept motor skills and ventriloquism, but it encompasses the creation of compelling stories and the ability to create inspirational and well-constructed manipulatable objects that reflect us, as humans.
Although it may not be the most popular form of artistic expression, the world of hand socks and string monkeys is a beautiful medium of sharing stories and should never be forgotten. One effort to support this niche medium is celebrated here, in Ann Arbor. Be pro-puppet and attend FestiFools this summer.
Tossing Balls: Watching Manipulation
Dancing is an art form, as the performance aspect is a live and kinetic display of controlled movements in visually-appealing fashions. In the same respect, one can see juggling as a work of art as well. Much like dancing, it involves coordination and bodily practice, as well as rhythm and style. One of the most brilliant displays of juggling I have seen is Viktor Kee’s stunning act in Cirque du Soleil’s performance of Dralion –>
Juggling embodies the essence of the human condition, as it involves intentional manipulation of objects. The ability to inflict life into objects comes from the innate nature of our species. We have opposable thumbs and incredible brainpower, allowing us to bend objects into our desired shapes and purposes. This has been engrained in our species. As a recreational and performance activity, juggling has many origins. The earliest forms of this activity stem from several ancient cultures around the globe. From the Romans to the Chinese, Egyptians to the Norse, Polynesians to the Aztec, the roots of juggling can be found. In all of these cultures, juggling emanated from the work of entertainers, or ‘fools.’ While their primary concentrations were on recitation of poetry, storytelling, etc, skills such as ball tossing were also commonplace for entertainment.
It is a unique artistic display, as it takes the manipulation of objects into a visually pleasing performance. Juggling follows a pattern and that repetition is not only fluid and appealing, but the nature of the art. We enjoy seeing the flying balls, circling in arcs back to the thrower’s hands. The three-ball-cascade, the most basic and elemental of tosses, is a fluid and infinite loop that can be mesmerizing to viewers. Each ball completes the same cycle and receives an equal amount of attention from the juggler. It is a brilliant cycle of coordination, even at its most basic level. When advanced, the performance can become truly breathtaking.
The varieties of juggling—changing the patterns of tosses, increasing the number of objects, replacing the objects themselves—are ultimately limitless, allowing for a continuing improvement and evolution of the activity. For instance, contact juggling, which involves moving a single ball around the hands and arms as a form of optical illusion, has grown in popularity over the years. Other variants include the more treacherous acts of juggling chainsaws or flames. Unicycles and stilts can be incorporated, and soon the varieties of the performance reach new levels. Yet they all maintain the same fluid and mesmerizing cycles that captivate us. All the varieties can be traced to their entertaining origins around the globe. All of them are forms of art.
