here are a few stellar moments from a performance of an as-of-yet untitled piece that i'm growing with dancer/choreographer francesca harper. its an exploration of billie holiday's life and times through movement, music and multimedia. these moments photographed here found us dancing to the sound of her speaking voice, edited from an interview that she did with mike wallace, accompanied by pianist jeremy bacon.
this performance has clung to my heart ever since for several reasons. first of all, it happened on my birthday. i really felt as though something wonderful was born on that stage that day. or maybe it was growing out of the pit of me all along. what it was, i can't say exactly. i remember feeling especially overwhelmed by it all. and grateful.
secondly, i danced -- something that i was always made to feel that i was incapable of doing. more on that some other time.
interestingly, francesca has instigated all of this movement in my life -- or at least, tilted my perspective enough to make me believe that i can do it. and i am doing it -- professionally. i met her at a boardwalk empire audition for jazz dancers. we both got the gig and i've been kicking up my heels (more or less) ever since. it's so important for me to challenge myself, to do things i've never done before, to push myself outside of my comfort zone, to try new things. if i don't, i will not grow. and if i don't grow, then really, what's the point?
as kenyatta beasley watched me dance with the francesca harper project, i think he was totally overwhelmed. "i didn't know you could do that," he kept saying, like a mantra.
"neither did i," i replied breathlessly.
and lastly? afterwards, kenyatta remarked, "you danced for me today. you dancing was a gift you gave me." and him saying that felt like the best birthday present i had ever gotten and would ever get, ever ever ever.
earlier this evening, i went to a dance rehearsal for the as-of-yet unnamed billie holiday piece i'm doing with francesca harper for the harlem arts festival on this saturday. two of her dancers were there -- pliable and open and smart, and willing. i had no idea what to expect. i thought i was going to watch them create this something out of nothing but fran insisted that i play with them, and simply move around in the space and improvise. let's play! sounds innocuous enough. there was no choreography, per se. we were moving around and thinking aloud and cracking jokes and wondering how this might look or how does this feel or does this work this way. as everything began to unravel and we explored the audio and got lost in the sound of billie holiday's speaking voice, telling these little stories about herself, something else gradually took over. i forgot about the time. i forgot myself. i forgot my fear of dance, that thing in me that said this isn't mine.
through it all, fran's voice was this guiding light, shaping everything, suggesting something, requesting this, asking that. slowly but surely, we found our way. there was a moment when all of us were throwing so many ideas into the air, i could feel whatever worked sticking to us from the inside out. that was glorious.
all of it was storytelling, every single bit of it. because i knew the storyline, i could do the movement. but it was so much more than that. for the first time in my life -- with the bright exception of the lindy and of course those tea social dances from the 1920s -- i was moving with grace and ease and purpose and i wasn't lost. i wasn't self-conscious or uncomfortable, either. it didn't scare me. it made sense. it felt right. it fit with what was happening around me, with what everyone else was doing and most importantly with the music that flowed through the piece. and it was fun.
thank God we videotaped it!
this is francesca's gift to me, though i suspect she hardly gave any of it a second thought, aside from yay, we're making cool blackgrrl art. when i tried to explain myself, i sounded like an idiot.
perhaps someday if she ever meets my brother the dancer, she'll understand.
THE HARLEM ARTS FESTIVAL is a FREE annual festival presenting Harlem-based music, dance, theater, and visual arts. Taking place at the Richard Rodgers Amphitheater in Marcus Garvey Park June 29-30, 2012, we invite the community to celebrate Harlem’s vibrant cultural landscape and contemporary artistry.
for more information: http://www.harlemartsfestival.com
there's a gallery walk, performance art, exhibits, music, dance -- and all of it is based in harlem. francesca and i will be performing on the main stage at the newly renovated (and newly renamed) richard rodgers amphitheater.
here's the gist of what francesca and i will do:In this as-of-yet untitled
theatrical performance, Queen Esther explores black feminism by
continuing to deconstruct the iconic siren Billie Holiday through movement,
sound and vision. With Ms.
Holiday’s speaking voice as an aural backdrop, Queen Esther sings her more
relatively unknown yet timeless songs, melding this soundscape into Francesca
Harper’s compelling choreography, exploring a relatively unknown side of Lady
Day.
i have always believed that we africans of the diaspora have way more in common than we would probably dare to imagine. music is just one of the many ties that bind us. when i was in college, i loved juju music because it sounded so much like go-go music. i met a lot of nigerians who agreed with me. i got to see king sunny ade when i was an undergrad in austin texas at the fabled liberty lunch. that was epic. one churning percussive groove after another, with absolutely no end in sight. he literally wore out the audience. and so did the dancers. the only shows that i have ever seen that matched such heavy grooves so relentlessly (and that went on for so many hours, the audience left!) was parliament funkadelic.
when i fancied myself a budding journalist, i interviewed chief twins 77 for the campus' black student newspaper the griot. that was kind of a hoot. he was sitting there like a pasha, resplendent in these beautiful flowing robes and surrounded by musicians and dancers, and there were all these white people flipping out over his artwork, which was substantial. one piece after another drifted past us as we chatted, with gobs of cash money changing hands and a lot of introductions and bowing from the white people and what not. i didn't throw any cash around. nor did i bow. at one point, he said that i was a very pretty african girl. he said it flatly, in this really declarative way. he seemed to be genuinely surprised by this. i have no idea why.
and then there was that time when that percussionist from chief ebenezer obey's juju band blurted out a marriage proposal instead of hello when he was introduced to me. he was beautiful, with a near perfect smile and deep scars layered across both of his cheeks. when i told him i'd seriously consider it if he gave me his talking drum -- an instrument that women are not allowed to play, under any circumstances -- he looked visibly stricken and scoffed loudly in his native language. later after he spent the evening onstage watching me dance, he reconsidered, joining me and my friends to dance with me. eventually he returned to the stage and let me have the drumstick in this grand sweet gesture, declaring to the audience that he was going to take me home to his tribe. everyone clapped and screamed except me.
good times.
and no, i'm not a dancer. but when i was in the girl scouts, we had a black troop leader that was all about africa and black power and the soul in everything. i can recall many things we did for the community that involved african dance presentations with live drums and percussion. (one harvest dance in particular comes to mind.) it was a wonderful way to teach us about african culture and, in so doing, relate it to who we are as african-americans. so when i dance, it's either jazz tea social dances from the 20s (boardwalk empire!), the lindy from the 30s or african dance. that's all i got!
needless to say, i forgot that june is black music month. and because of chuck brown's untimely demise, juju and go-go have been on my mind and my stereo. for anyone who paused to wonder why the black side of dc grieved collectively last month when chuck brown -- grammy-award nominated guitarist/performer/legend and godfather of go-go -- passed away, the documentary below should set you straight.
...and this is a short informative documentary about juju music that explains it so succinctly, i wish i could use it to wallpaper my virtual world.
this is a snapshot of last night's summerstage performance in west harlem of motion theater lab, dancing under the stars at jackie robinson park's ampitheater.
the event was nothing short of wonderful -- with some truly breathtaking moments. an evening of dance with earl mosley's institute of the arts and motion theater lab that began with a hipfunkinghop dance class, taught for all ages by choreographer calvin wiley. by the time we showed up, everyone that felt so inclined was onstage behind this man who looked as though he were directing traffic in a really elegant way. even people in the audience were dancing!
i love harlem, i really do. it's not just harlem, actually. it's brooklyn, too. but for me, it's harlem. whether it's the architecture, the food, the history that's alive in the streets, the languages spoken all around me by black folk from the diaspora speak everywhere i go, or the vibe that is who we are -- i am saturated in blackness. i can't imagine living in a place that doesn't take my black perspective into consideration, on all fronts. if i did, i'd probably never leave the house. that's probably a part of the reason why it's so hard for me to imagine living anywhere else. this place has really spoiled me as a negress. but then again, so did the atl. and charleston.
this thursday -- gil-scott heron is at marcus garvey park. next week -- doug e. fresh is at jackie robinson park. first the black cowboys, now this. what a cool summer i'm having! more photos later.
we rehearsed for a few hours today for next week's broadway empire shoot. after we filled out some paperwork, we were coupled off and we danced in rounds and then in sequence, one after the other, all together, all around the room - laughing and chatting and carrying on as we acted out way through it. it was so much fun!
the thing that i love about these movements is that there are no rules, no "proper" way to do them, per se. you do what you feel. it's so perfect for me - someone who really loves to dance but who gets flummoxed by the "right" way to do these things. and really, this was the point in time in social dances when the formality was stripped away and people just made stuff up and did what they wanted to do. you didn't go to class to learn how to do a dance like the shim sham shimmy. you just did it. and when we do it, it's really funky and sexy and beautiful - everybody got all free with it and then it felt like a house party, out of time.
my partner is brian, an alumna of the color purple national tour with a fairly serious dance background. he's a little taller than me, which worked perfectly with certain dances. he led so effortlessly, it was almost as though we'd been dancing together forever.
pat the choreographer and her two assistants were more than focused, drifting around the room and giving direction and suggestions and notes and encouragement as necessary. the next thing i knew, it was over.
here's a cool video that explains a few of the dances we're doing. i love the grizzly bear, as you know. the castle walk is a favorite, too. we're not doing any waltzes - too 19th century and way too white, especially for a black folk's juke joint/roadhouse scene.
wouldn't it be great if i could keep dancing like this?
i got called in to be seen yesterday for the hbo series boardwalk empire. maybe you've heard about it: it's all about big time gangsters and city corruption on the jersey shore - based on actual people and events, no less - and set in the 1920s. martin scorsese is producing it. hbo has already committed to 12 episodes. mr. scorsese has already shot the first one.
what they wanted me to do was dance. i almost laughed out loud when i read the breakdown. me, dance? i'm the one that everyone would make fun of when i walked across the room, much less danced at parties or family gatherings or whatever. i'm the one that never knew how to properly execute the latest dance that was sweeping the black nation - i just moved with feeling, and that was never enough. i'm the one with the older brother who, when he was a dancer and hard at work in that world briefly, reassured me time and again that i couldn't dance. all of that criticism and ridicule made me feel awkward and stunted whatever natural grace i had. eventually, i didn't move at all. why bother, when i would only end up humiliating myself. the party would be on fire in the other room while i was the one in the kitchen, sitting at the table in relative darkness, chugging ice water and having long winding conversations into the night with fascinating people about books and ideas and life.
i danced when i had to and only when i had to, which is usually when someone paid me to do it, i.e. some grand musical theater production or a play that required movement. i wanted to take class formally - i even interned at broadway dance center - but i just couldn't afford the classes. actually, i didn't know of very many dancers who could afford the classes. what was especially annoying is when i would work hard and get lean and strong and people would look at me and assume that i was a dancer.
and then something clicked: swing music exploded all over creation and all of a sudden, dancing was fun, fun, fun. here's the kicker: i was good at it! as it turns out, i could dance all along. who knew?
i was going to call my agent and tell them to get me out of this one, but then i realized that they probably wouldn't choreograph anything because it was a scene in a jook/juke joint (i thought those were only in my part of the south!). yankees call them roadhouses, i guess. though those are something totally different in other parts of the south, too. i actually liked the tea dances of the 1920s, and had been going to see michael arenella and his dreamland orchestra long enough to practice them. as i dug out my character shoes and dusted them off, i thought that if there was no structured "...five, six, seven, eight!" situation, i would get through it with my dignity intact. heck. it might even be a good time.
the day before this particular dance call, they wanted me to lip-synch a mamie smith song called crazy blues - in full vintage regalia, no less. i know i nailed that one - i like all the smiths, not just bessie - but they wanted a medium sized black woman and i don't think that's me, because i'm a size 6. a few weeks before that, i read for an under 5 role of the babysitter, which was interesting. so here i was, in my long black gym shorts and a t-shirt, black socks and character shoes, back for a third try and ready to rip it up.
once we were all signed in, given numbers, photographed and led out of holding, the casting folk took us to a room and tried to make themselves as invisible as possible. we sort of paired ourselves up in this effortless way, the way you look over at someone and both of you point at each other at the same time. the choreographer, an older pixie-ish lady whose one syllabled name escapes me, was a real pip. she explained the dances, showed us how they should be executed with a few small deft moves, told us what she was looking for specifically and pretty much pushed play on the cd player across the room and left us to our own devices, watching all of us carefully. my partner was a tall lean beautiful lightskinned brother named kyle who looked like he just breezed in from classes at ailey. i smiled at him, relieved and grateful - how exciting, i thought. i get to move around the room with a real dancer! when i told him that, he smiled broadly and waved me off.
we did the black bottom, the shim sham shimmy, and a few others that i liked. we just danced and pretended like we were at a party and whatnot. at one point, kyle went into a six count swing out and i blurted, that's the lindy hop, that's the 30s! and he said, i'm sorry, i couldn't help it! and we just laughed and kept going.
my favorite one was the grizzly bear. here's a fairly good example of the way it looks:
it's so fun!
interestingly, there was strictly no charleston. she was really pointed about that. the year in this scene was 1920. the charleston - straight out of a small island off the coast of south carolina, no less! - hadn't been invented yet.
when we were done, the little lady made a small apologetic statement. something like, i'm sorry, you're all wonderful but we have to let a few of you go - and boy, haven't i heard that a million times! - and then she starts cutting people. by the time she gets to me, i'm mentally out the door and on with the rest of my day, but instead of dismissing me, she says, you can stay. and then she turns to my partner and thanks him for his time but no, he's not right for this part.
you could have knocked me over with a breath of fresh air.
after digging for white rhinestones in chinatown (don't ask), i skip over to the coffee pot in midtown to catch up with renee and stacy (who should have been at this audition, really) and before we separate, i get a call from the casting agent letting me know that i got the part. yeesh - they beat the talent agent to the punch?!
costume fitting tomorrow afternoon, deep in the heart of brooklyn. huzzah!
who knew that peru had black cultural traditions? i didn't. africans have a global presence that has definitely gone undocumented/unresearched in latin america. out of a population of 23 million peruvians, there are over two million african-peruvians. we really are everywhere! peru negro, a 20 member ensemble that's sparked a resurgence in their homeland, are going to perform at the world music institute on saturday night. this dance company is considered to be a national treasure in peru?
i'm very curious -- especially since my friend and i may go to macchu picchu next year.
this is why i love living in new york city: because beautiful art in every genre comes here from all over the world -- sometimes to the exclusion of anyplace else. of course, having access to these things doesn't mean anything if you don't go and see them. and let's face it: most new yorkers don't.
i can't believe that i know any black dancers that haven't seen josephine baker do her thing. watching her perform "the banana dance" changed my life. her work still has the power to make everyone in the room stop what they're doing and look at her, even if it's only via a grainy sepia-toned video. and no -- i've never heard any neo-burlesque performers mention her, except in passing.
actually, i've never seen any black neo-burlesque dancers perform. hm.
this has no sound, and it's fairly grainy but she's absolutely radiant. be sure to watch the facial expressions of the people sitting around her. that alone is worth the price of admission.
here's a shot of one of my favorite neo-burlesque performers, delerium tremens, hard at work at the slipper room. i especially like the way she puts a new twist on her old school take on burlesque. you can't completely let go of the past with any of this. you have to build on it. i like her style. the betty paige hair, 40's make-up and classic body complete the effect, but the kicker is that sneer on her face that she gives the audience as she dances.
that hard look has a startling effect, somehow. there's something calculated about it, which adds even more dimension to what she's doing, because there's something contemptuous in it. i don't think she realizes the expression she's making. or maybe she does. either way, it's not what you'd expect from such a pretty girl. that's a part of the reveal in her dance, i suppose. and the allure.
this is what my friend looks at while he's slinging drinks but for some strange reason, he could care less. is it because he's been working there for so long? as one of the dancers told me, "if i want him to not look at me, i'll put on some pasties."
