By Ellen Bromberg
For the Dance for the Camera
Symposium, UW Madison, 2000
The
dictionary defines corporeal as Òhaving a material body; tangible,
physical.Ó Therefore, I would
interpret the title of this panel as the Òre-materializing of the body via
screen dance.Ó For me it does not
mean ÒreplacingÓ the body but rather, creating a different materiality, one
that is made of light, celluloid, electromagnetic particles or digital
information rather than of flesh, bone and sinew. Both forms of materiality create image, one dense, the
other etheric; one has a limited life span, the other a potentially timeless
one; the corporeal bodyÕs movements are replicable, but not exactly repeatable,
while the screen bodyÕs movements are unchanged from viewing to viewing.
I
would like to include in my comments this afternoon, a perspective from a panel
on which I sat at last year's International Dance and Technology Conference at
Arizona State University. The
title of that panel was ÒContent and the Seeming Loss of Spirituality in
Technologically Mediated Work.Ó
While these two panels might differ somewhat, issues of corporeality and
spirituality can be viewed as distant points on a continuum of existence. As a duality, they define each other.
The word spiritual is defined as Ònot material; incorporeal, of or pertaining
to the spirit or soul, not physical.Ó
It has been my experience that this duality of the corporeal and the spiritual
can find unity, balance and expression in the process of making and
appreciating art. Today I
will discuss further some issues inherent in the duality of corporeality and
spirituality as they relate to screen dance, and I will also discuss and
present a short video of a creative project that I feel explores this duality
in a novel way.
In
his book ÒThe Awakening Heart,Ó John Welwood describes two fundamental
tendencies in human nature: the desire to realize oneÕs individual nature and
the strong need to merge with or be a part of something larger than
oneself. These two tendencies of
human nature can be conceptualized as the individual, or corporeal self, and
the transcendent or spiritual self.
For me, it has been through the creation and appreciation of art,
through the aesthetic experience, that integration of the individual and the
transcendent, the corporeal and the spiritual can occur. And it is through this integration that
a simultaneously individual and collective understanding of what it is to be
human emerges.
Metaphor
is a means by which we can recognize something of both our human and
transcendent natures. When a work
of art resonates (and of course what comprises that resonance will be different
for each of us), the boundaries of our individuality soften and we can seem to
merge with the object, or the experience of the performer or performance. We experience a unity that transcends
our physicality while at the same time being defined by it. That is, our very materiality is the
basis from which transcendence can occur.
Corporeality therefore, is essential to our understanding of the
non-corporeal, or transcendent self.
Knowledge
derives in part from such experience of resonance and this experience can be a
most meaningful teacher. Knowledge
is not solely based on an understanding of abstract concepts or beliefs, but
rather, on embodied experience as well.
I believe that while knowledge may begin at the factual or conceptual
level, in order for something to be truly known or understood, the experiential
component is essential. When
viewing a work of art that resonates, it is the embodied knowledge held within
both the viewer and the work of art (the manifestation of its creatorÕs
embodied knowledge) that resonates and it is that resonance which facilitates
the experience of transcendence.
There is mutuality in the process, a reciprocal relationship through
which is satisfied the desire to realize oneÕs individual nature and the strong
need to merge with or be a part of something larger than oneself.
In
1992 I began a collaborative relationship with video-artist Douglas
Rosenberg. We have created two
works together, each spanning a number of years, each integrating video and
technology to varying degrees into live performance. The project IÕd like to
present is the first of the two, titled "Singing Myself a Lullaby," which was a
multi-media performance work performed by Bay Area dancer John Henry. Created in collaboration with Doug, and
composer Victor Spiegel, the stage piece was an evening length work examining
the image of the self as one individual prepared for his death from AIDS. AIDS was not the primary subject of the
piece, but rather the catalyst for self-examination. An investigation of identity, "Singing Myself a
Lullaby" presented numerous vignettes from John's life, interspersed with
more universal movement rituals.
This layering of the personal and universal presented life as the
construction and dissolution of various identities over time, the overriding
metaphor being that death is the dissolution of our identification with the
body.
I
had worked with John ten years earlier in the Bay Area, and when he first
approached me about collaborating with him on a work about AIDS, he said that
heÕd lost many friends to the disease and that he wanted to respond to these
experiences in a performance piece. He never mentioned that he was ill. It
wasnÕt until later that he revealed his illness, and with that piece of
information, the nature and meaning of the project was instantly changed. John and I worked together for quite
some time until the main themes of the work started to take shape. These themes were taken directly from
JohnÕs life experience, and while his individual experiences might trigger some
identification by audience members, I knew that these personal experiences
needed to be encompassed by more universally accepted truths. This was addressed by placing vignettes
from JohnÕs life within a greater, more expansive context, one that created
non-narrative space and facilitated reflection. In this way, there was a gentle oscillation between the
individuality of JohnÕs corporeal self and the potential for connection with
his non-corporeal, transcendent self.
We
premiered the work in Tucson in 1995 and during the next year it was performed
at New Performance Gallery in S.F., at P.S. 122 in NYC, and again in S.F. at
the Cowell Theater, as part of The Edge Festival for New Performance in the
spring of 1996. John died two
weeks after the final performance.
Each performance of the work was different as video footage was used
increasingly to replace JohnÕs live performance, as he grew weaker from the
illness. It was our intention that
the final work would result in a video piece, which has indeed come to pass. The Open Society Institute's Project on
Death in America (part of the Soros Foundation) has funded the creation of this
video/dance/documentary and it has also been supported by Wisconsin Public
Television, which will broadcast the work some time this year.
Early on in the process we
began video taping the material in the piece, knowing that at some point in the
future John would not be able to perform the more rigorous dancing
sections. The future existed for
us only abstractly and we approached this issue as both a practical and an
artistic matter. Over time
however, what was at first abstract and poetic became very real for all
involved. As the illness
progressed and JohnÕs body diminished in size and vitality, the contrast
between his real image and his video image was striking. We realized that embedded within the
artistic vision of the work, was a visual chronicle of a dying man, and that
with each performance, that chronicle became more complete. Like
an extended cross-fade from flesh to projected image, the ultimate completion
of the work was predicated on the death of the performer. The irony of this experience was that
as a friend, watching JohnÕs body diminish in size and vitality was
devastating. And yet at the same
time, as an artist, I was fascinated by the gradual displacement of his
corporeal being by his projected image on stage.
On stage, the scale of the video images
gave new form to the larger-than-life projected energy that had so
characterized John as a performer.
The scale and the close-up shots also brought us into a more intimate
relationship with JohnÕs body, which was the source and arena for the
work. The video also allowed us to
see aspects of his illness that might not have been readily visible from a
proscenium stage. It was of critical importance that we make a work of art
that defined John not simply as a dying man for whom we feel mainly sympathy,
but rather as a man offering us an opportunity for our own self reflection.
And, by participating in this way with John, we experienced the work not only
as a meditation on death, but an affirmation of life.
I
have learned and continue to learn so much from this project. This work has given form to issues of
identity, loss and transformation, which are universally important themes. What I have also learned from the aesthetic
experience of creating the work, was the power of the projected image to infuse
the performance space with both energy and metaphor, adding layers of
information not possible through a purely choreographic language. I have also
grown to see the camera as a tool with which to magnify and reveal the human
and corporeal. Like the
amplification of an acoustic instrument, there become available certain pitches
and timbres that were previously below the level of perception in a theatrical
performance of dance. The
increased scale of close-up shots projected to a large size, along with the
variety of camera angles available, reveal nuance in gesture and facial
expression often not seen from the stage.
Previously, much of my fascination with movement was, either its
emotionally expressive capabilities, the sympathetic kinesthetic response it
stimulated, or the construction and development of a choreographerÕs unique
movement language and choreographic structure. Over the years I have found that fascination waning, and in
its place, a growing appreciation for the simple authentic movements of human
expression. The cameraÕs eye has
infinite potential to reveal, magnify and intensify that simplicity and as such
has augmented and expanded my palette of expression.
Doug and I begin editing the final
video/dance/documentary next week.
As we embark on the final phase of this project which we began eight
years ago, we will be creating the final fixed document in which we layer
together all of the images from the process. John died four yeas ago and yet, in this new materiality of
light, electromagnetic particles and digital data, the image of his flesh and
bone will have a new and lasting life, a re-corporealized life on the
screen. Moreover, JohnÕs re-materialized
image offers, to a much larger audience this time, an opportunity to address
once again, the larger issues of identity, loss and transformation.