REVIEW: Celestial Bodies in Motion

By Nanda Srikantaiah

In Navagraha: 9 Energies Within & Without, creators/directors Shobha and Aishwarya Subramanian shrank the size of the universe to a single stage in an engaging portrayal of ancient Indian astrology. Danced by the Jayamangala Group, with original music by Ramya S. Kapadia and original art by Maryland-based artist Shanthi Chandrashekhar, Navagraha was performed in the South Indian classical style Bharatnatyam. The company distilled the often abstract and technically complex Indian study of astrology (more commonly known as Vedic or Hindu astrology) to expand the audience’s understanding of the universe. 

No matter the cultural tradition, one of the most universally compelling aspects of astrology is how the movements of the planets potentially impact an individual’s life. Navagraha made that connection immediately. In distinct pieces, with a mixture of narrative form, pure dance, and English voiceover, Navagraha highlighted the celestial bodies and their qualities: Surya (the Sun); Chandra (the Moon); Mangal (Mars); Budha (Mercury); Brihaspathi (Jupiter); Shukra (Venus); Shani (Saturn); and Rahu and Ketu (North and South lunar nodes and notorious bringers of eclipses).

The performance also wove these planetary forms into the traditional structure of a typical Indian classical dance performance: the show began with a spiritual invocation to Surya, the sun and the giver of life, and ended with an energetic pure dance piece describing the rare eclipses caused by Rahu and Ketu. 

It was clear that the music, choreography, and narration were selected with great intention for each piece. In Chandra (the Moon), the dancers arrayed themselves in ascending angles, forming the phases of the moon with their hands.The music employed a foundational but important South Indian melody and rhythm, and the dancers’ movements were more deliberate and grounded, emphasizing the constant presence of the moon in every individual’s life. The overarching metaphor about the phases of the moon relating to a human’s overall life had more resonance as a result. 

In contrast, Shani (Saturn) delivers justice to humans based on their bad deeds, also known as karma, and rewards them for being good. The duality of reward and punishment was captured in a lively dance-talking piece featuring two back-to-back dancers in the center, who are gradually overwhelmed by a circle of dancers thumping their feet in rhythm, pointing at the center and chanting, “It’s your fault.” When the center dancers break apart, they converse in a lighthearted voiceover about good deeds and bad deeds, with a dancer portraying Shani slyly acknowledging that this form of justice is a “little more complicated” than a binary system of punishment and reward. 

Few Indian classical dancers stray from the traditional costume, which mimics a wrapped and draped sari but allows for freedom of movement. The colors in Navagraha – blues and silvers suggesting a starry night – were lovely. It did seem that costuming touches or changes in color could have made the overall narration pop. Nowhere was this clearer than in the Shukra (Venus) piece, where pairs of dancers held gauzy white veils before their faces to evoke both the femininity of Venus and the danger of succumbing to vanity. The veils were dropped shortly after the piece began, but they left a lasting impression. 

Navagraha’s spin on the traditional ending piece in a classical performance – a highly energetic, pure dance otherwise known as a thillana – was a joy to watch. Introducing Rahu and Ketu, dueling lunar nodes who cause eclipses, the dancers split up into groups and did the thillana in competition. They crisscrossed each other in solid lines, circled each other, and engaged in structured call-and-response style dance sets, alternatively speeding up the rhythm and slowing down. It is common for the thillana to highlight geometric formations and variations of speed, but it was inventive to see these elements used to depict a lunar eclipse. 

In a talkback after the show, it was clear that this was a fully coordinated effort among dancers, musicians, and visual artists – from Shanthi Chandrashekhar’s background artwork, to Shobha and Aishwarya Subramanian’s directing work, to an open choreography process involving all of the individual dancers. Navagraha struck a pleasing balance between pushing boundaries and drawing inspiration from the strength of the classical tradition.   

Photos courtesy Jayamangala Group

REVIEW: The Tie That Binds

Nocturne
Therese Gahl and Elizabeth Gahl
Le Notre
Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival
Washington, D.C.
February 27, 2020

By Valerie Oliphant 

Therese and Elizabeth Gahl brought innovation, mastery, and whole-heartedness to contemporary ballet with their three literary-inspired premieres Thursday night at the Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival. Their first-ever collaboration, Nocturne, focused on the importance of family.

The curtains parted to reveal two barefoot women in burgundy leotards and gauzy wrap skirts, arms draped casually over their heads. This heartwarming piece began with a reading from Jandy Nelson’s book The Sky Is Everywhere discussing the strong and loving bond between two sisters, before transitioning to a lilting Yann Tierson song from the Amelie soundtrack. Appropriately named “Two Sisters,” sisters Therese and Liz Gahl melted into deep plies, rested their heads on each others’ shoulders, and playfully pranced around the stage. 

“Cinderella” featured classical ballerina Eleonore Dugue, hip-hop b-boy Karim “Pepito” Ahansal, and flamenco bailaora Rosa Herrador Sousa. Their three distinct styles allowed for creative partnering work, Dugue holding classic poses like an arcing fish dive while Ahansal clutched her around the middle in a more utilitarian, less balletic way. The combination gave the pose a feeling of intimacy and urgency. 

Sousa, dressed in yellow pants, a white men’s shirt, and dark red lipstick, began with a slow deliberate walk to center stage. She sensuously slid to the floor, bowing low to hit the ground with a yellow fan before flicking it open. Ahansal pop-and-locked a pantomime tightening of his tie and smoothed out his blue button-down, left open over a white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Dugue, in a white slip and pointe shoes, looked like Bambi trying to stand for the first time, her legs wobbling as she attempted to rise after tripping into the spotlight. 

Dugue and Ahansal, dancing the parts of Cinderella and the Prince, emitted innocent joy and playfulness as they chased each other in circles, balanced on an imaginary tightrope, and rolled across the stage like children barrelling down a grassy hill. Reminded of the time, Dugue dashed off. Ahansal desperately clutched at her foot, then air. 

As he searched for his lost love, Ahansal’s hand seemed to operate on its own. It dodged through trees and careened down rivers, pulling his body along after it. His waving arms comically transferred to his arching eyebrows. His knees knocked inward as he sunk to the floor, then he kicked his legs out like a Russian Trepak dancer before spinning atop his head, legs akimbo.

Sousa reappeared in a huge hoop skirt with over two dozen pointe shoes tied to the frame. She moved with such deliberateness that we were spellbound as she took a slow ten seconds to raise her arms. 

Predictably, Cinderella and the Prince were happily reunited. After using the pointe shoes to make various patterns on the stage, Dugue lovingly picked them up. She stared at each one reverently, then tucked it into her arm until she was cradling a bouquet of two dozen shoes. Miraculously she danced without dropping them, extending her leg up overhead as her torso dipped low. As she slowly walked backward, she let one escape. A spotlight shown on the lone pink satin shoe as the curtains slowly closed. 

Dylan Thomas’ words, “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light,” echoed over the sound system as soloist Therese Gahl stood amongst seven black stools of varying height. Projected against the backdrop, ink splats slowly unfurled in water. The heaviest piece of the three, “Do Not Go Gentle,” detailed how the loss of a loved one forces you to confront your own mortality. 

Gahl draped herself over the first stool, gently traced its contours with lingering fingers, and flipped it on its side to precariously balance along the edges of its legs. Another dancer approached and pried the stool away, carrying it to the back of the stage. Gahl danced around, over, and on top of the stools, fruitlessly trying to protect them as one-by -one they were carried off. When all the stools had been removed, male soloist Peter Green picked the grief-stricken Gahl up off the floor. When she collapsed again, he held onto her foot as she effortlessly swung around him like an ice skater. 

As the poem ended, the music changed to haunting instrumentals. A tight group of eight dancers exploded into a large X facing every which way, each contracting into a hunchbacked gut-punch. With linked arms, the dancers spun so fast one was suspended by momentum, her back arched, feet reaching toward her head. 

Gahl’s creative choreography incorporated many pleasing elements of surprise: the lines of one dancer’s extended arms beautifully parallel to her partner’s extended legs; another dancer caught midair in a stag leap. Gahl adeptly tailored movement to each dancer’s strengths.

“Do Not Go Gentle” was filled with memorable images, including the final tableau: Green held Gahl high in the air as she desperately reached for the departing dancers, pain evident on her face, she extended an arm out in longing.

Therese and Liz Gahl’s passion and mastery of ballet technique brought familiar stories to life, showcasing a well-honed cast of international dancers and familiar D.C. area faces from companies like Motion X DC, Gin Dance Company, and Bowen McCauley Dance Company. The sisters’ complementary choreographic styles knit seamlessly together, celebrating family and connection. 

Photos: top, Therese Gahl, Glenn Cook Photography
middle, Courtney Papenta and Elizabeth Watson, photo by Ruth Judson
bottom, Patrick Green and Therese Gahl, photo by Ruth Judson

REVIEW: The Fate of Choice

The Fate of Choice
Motion X Dance, in collaboration with Copper Note design
Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival
Washington, D.C.
February 22, 2020

By Leslie Holleran

In this multi-media dance work choreographer Stephanie Dorrycott and graphic designer Lindsay Benson Garrett, also known as Copper Note Design, address a duality that’s been around as long as people have: choice vs. fate. My interest was piqued by that premise alone. Could contemporary dance/art reveal something new or different about an ages-old question that philosophers have long wrestled with?

The Fate of Choice, a second collaboration for D.C.’s Dorrycott and Benson Garrett of Virginia, premiered this past Saturday at the Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival. These two creators first teamed up on “Altered Archives” for the Capital Fringe Festival in 2015. This new work was their first opportunity to work together again.

The first section of the hour-long piece focused on choice. Seven female dancers took the stage in a line while a projected image, a curtain of countless strands, provided a backdrop. The line of dancers then staggered and dissolved into smaller groups frequently entering and exiting. Similarly costumed in fitted, neutral-toned pants with sheer white tops, the dancers shared a related movement vocabulary, too – limbs fully extended, hiccups of balletic jumps with arched feet, smooth descents into the floor and backward rolls.

With no identifiable patterns in the group formations, “choice” had a random feeling echoed in the projections. After the strands, came projected folds in the shape of ribbon candy. Generally speaking, no matter what shapes filled the screen, there were many of them. On her website, Garrett refers to these projections as “abstract video illustrations.” An exception was her video of a single long, waving piece of orange fabric.

“Fate” was the focus of the second section. In one movement of seven in total, the fabric limited a dancer’s movement choices. She could go under the fabric, go around it, or get bound by it, not to mention, the liberating option of tossing it away. The fabric, as used by the performers, created apt metaphors for fate. Rather than getting trapped – bound up -- by fate, it’s possible to circumvent or even escape.

At the talkback following the performance, a dancer remarked about the fabric: “The choreography is set, but the fabric has a mind of its own.” That observation served as a great reminder for human experience -- try as we might to make certain choices in hopes of a particular outcome, things don’t always go as we’d like. Sometimes forces are beyond anyone’s control. Perhaps, that’s where the work’s title, “The Fate of Choice,” comes in.

Those who missed Motion X’s premiere of “The Fate of Choice” will have a second chance to see it. The encore presentation will be given April 18-19, 2020, at Joy of Motion Dance Center’s Jack Guidone Theater.

Photos by Ruth Judson, courtesy Motion X Dance

REVIEW: Dissonance Dance Inspired by the African-American Diaspora

By Ramona Harper

“Is it necessary to go to Europe for balletic inspiration when we can find it right here?” And with that cogent and inspirational quote from founder, artistic director and choreographer Shawn Short, he pounds a powerful punch to traditional notions about ballet. Dissonance Dance Theatre’s fleet-footed evening of contemporary ballet, Diaspora, part of the Intersections Festival at the Atlas Performing Arts Center, demonstrated how ballet can be more inclusive and draw inspiration from contemporary urban sources.

A diaspora represents a scattering of peoples, their cultures and communities from a place of origin to a new land. Dissonance denotes a lack of agreement or discordance in beliefs. In Diaspora, an ambitious slate of eight energetic works, Short merges the two ideas to create a powerful program that moves ballet to new horizons of cultural fusion, dispelling any singular notion of how ballet should be expressed. 

Envision contemporary ballet that’s prestissimo — fast, quick and light-footed in execution with leaping splits, high leg kicks, acrobatic lifts as jazz hands reach to the sky and, most of all, an incredible energy that enthralls. “Silo,” the opening piece, with music by the iconic Earth, Wind and Fire, makes you hold onto your seat for a ride that never lets up in excitement and vigor requiring pure stamina for Dissonance’s hard-driving dancers.

The emotional impact of all eight works in Diaspora quickens the pulse with a thrilling kind of anticipation. But there are moments when you do need time to catch your breath in this fast-paced program.

“When October Goes” and “To Joshua with Love” are more mellow pieces that can slow down your racing heart with romantic vocals by Nancy Wilson and instrumentals by J. Redman and YoYo Ma.  

Short choreographed every piece in this eclectic program and there’s a soothing sameness in the lyricism of its repetitive movements in quick turns, flowing carriage of the arms, and beautiful partnering. Floor straddling splayed limbs and outstretched arms appeared ever romantic but methodical and precise.

Diaspora melds contemporary ballet with modern dance and jazz. It’s as elegant as a swan in motion with a Caribbean essence and American street-dance cool.

A strong ensemble of female dancers shimmies en pointe to a Lindy Hop beat in “Big Band Suite (Movement 1-3).” Then male dancers sensuously swivel their hips to a calypso cadence in “As the Sun Rises” with the full ensemble expressing the Junkanoo joy of a Carnival street parade.

Ngoma Center students from the training arm of Dissonance Dance Theatre perform in “Relax, Relate and Release.” These talented budding ballerinas and modern dancers are terrific and their exceptional synchronicity of movement is commendable.

What impacted me most about the works in Diaspora is choreography that uses the whole body of the dance and the dancers with no part standing out from the rest. The entire ensemble effortlessly moves into focus and then individual dancers exit the stage. They magically reappear as duets or sure-footed soloists who again surrender to the ensemble creating a sense of being connected in an intensely organic way. 

Dissonance Dance Theatre remains the only nationally recognized, Black-managed contemporary ballet company between New York and Atlanta, according to Short. For the past 13 years, under Short’s dynamic and committed guidance, the company has been making an important contribution to the dance community of Washington, D.C.

Photos courtesy Dissonance Dance Theatre

REVIEW: Broadening Horizons With Gin Dance Company

By Valerie Oliphant

Unveil

Gin Dance Company
Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival
Washington, D.C.
February 22, 2020

Gin Dance Company’s Unveil, presented the first weekend of the Atlas INTERSECTIONS Festival, explored storytelling, perspective, and connection. Founder and artistic director Shu-Chen Cuff's background in ballet, modern, jazz, Chinese folk dance, and Chinese opera movements blend together to create Gin Dance Company’s unique East-meets-West style.

The premiere of “Breaking News” utilized the exaggerated storytelling techniques of Chinese opera movements to show the same story from multiple perspectives: four women involved in a shooting, a news anchor, and the two investigating police officers. The simple set, a park bench and a desk, allowed the dancers to create the environment through pantomime and dance. The anchor, danced by Cuff, began by plucking ideas out of the air, rearranging them, and fervently writing. Synthesizing her sources, she re-enacted the shooting, conveying a remarkable amount of information with only her hands and face.

The two policewomen embodied the Chinese opera movement principle of opposition, one moving her entire body all the way to the left in order to look to the right, the other rising all the way up on her tippy toes before crouching down to examine the ground, an enormous magnifying glass pressed to her eye. Chinese opera typically includes exaggerated pedestrian movements (there are 20 distinct beard movements alone) meant to communicate specific pieces of information to the audience. While there are more than 360 regional opera forms, they share the same three basic principles: balance, energy, and opposition and require a minimum of fifteen years of rigorous training.

Dancers Julia Hellmich, Na Dai, Courtney Lapenta, Elizabeth Watson, Hannah Church, Alison Grant, photo by Michele Egan

Between numbers, Cuff discussed her vision for the Rashomon-like piece: “You may think the story unfolds one way and the person next to you thinks it is completely different -- that’s the beauty of art. We are each telling our own story and each finding our own meaning.”

A contemporary ballet piece, “Infinity,” looked at spirituality and the afterlife. It featured delicate and flowing movements full of longing and reverence. Danced to Barber’s Adagio for Strings, seven dancers in nude leotards with floor-length gauzy grey ombre skirts floated between two sheer triangular pieces of fabric hanging from the ceiling. Cuff’s choreography excels at finding stillness within movement, creating a sense of awe and peace.

It was easy to see why the final piece, “We, The Moon, The Sun,” was billed as a fan favorite. A bright full moon filled the projected background as Cuff rolled her arms like the tide and a lone flute played. The movements took on a martial arts quality as a war drum joined the flute. Fast, fluttery high kicks followed arms windmilling in a blur. Six dancers joined her for the second section, soldier-stepping as a unit. They advanced diagonally across the stage, while the sound of sticks slapping together reverberated through the auditorium. Arms flew up as they inhaled in unison, retreating backward. Intricate hand and facial gestures followed sweeping rond de jambes, legs circling the dancers’ bodies like a compass. While the dancers displayed excellent technique, it was impossible not to watch Cuff when she was on stage with them. Her years of experience show in each detail -- a shoulder that lingers a touch longer, a spin that whips just a little faster. Emotions infuse her gestures, creating a spell-binding effect.

In her famous TEDTalk “The Danger of a Single Story,” author Chimamanda Adichie Ngozi says, “When we show a people as only one thing, over and over again, that is what they become. The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete.” GDC’s Unveil encouraged us to look at multiple perspectives, broadening our pool of stories and deepening our sense of community.

Photo: top, Shu-Chen Cuff, by Michelle Egan. Both photos courtesy Gin Dance Company

PREVIEW: Silk Road Dance Company Kicks Off Silver Anniversary at Intersections Festival

By Leslie Holleran

What better way to launch a dance company’s 25th year than with a sumptuous performance? And so, Silk Road Dance Company will perform The Golden Road to Samarkand at Atlas Performing Arts Center’s Intersections Festival in Washington, D.C., on February 22.

Golden Road

to Samarkand

Silk Road Dance Ensemble, February 22, 2020, 2:15 p.m., Atlas Intersections Festival
1333 H Street, NE
Washington, D.C. Tickets: $25 https://www.atlasarts.org/events/golden-road/.

Dr. Laurel Victoria Gray founded and leads Silk Road Dance (SRDC), based in Takoma Park, Md. For this occasion, she’s chosen to present 13 uniquely costumed court dances from Samarkand, a revival of her 2006 piece. The ancient city of Samarkand lies on the Silk Road in central Uzbekistan. These particular pieces reference the different cultures associated with Tamerlane, ruler of the Timurid Empire in the 14th century, who was born and entombed in Samarkand.

One of the Samarkand pieces is a Georgian dance, “Samaya,” in which a female trio circles around each other and also orbits the space. Originally, this dance was performed to celebrate the birth of a daughter, according to Gray, Silk Road’s artistic director and driving force. She is responsible for choreographing this dance and designing its new costumes for the Intersections performance.

In the dance “Jonim Bolisanmi,” from Uzbekistan, waves of emotion pour forth from three dancers as the song it is set to asks, “Will you be my sweetheart?” Gray’s collaborator Kizlarkhon Dusmukhamedova, who is recognized as a People’s Artist of Uzbekistan, choreographed this dance, and Silk Road’s dancers learned it directly from her during her visit to Washington, D.C., last year.

The predominantly female company gets its name from ancient trade routes between Southeast Asia and Europe, known as the Silk Road, which ran from the 2nd century B.C. to the 17th century A.D. The ensemble performs elaborately costumed cultural dances from many of the countries the trade routes traversed. With 200 dances in its repertoire, the racks and boxes of costumes fill much of the space in Gray’s Mount Rainier, Md., office and costume shop.

Because of its specific focus, the company frequently performs at traditional social functions, including weddings. It has also performed at embassies and cultural festivals. “Those cultures, they’ll come to me,” Gray says. “We’re fulfilling a very traditional niche …. We can come in, perform and keep the traditions going.” SRDC performs about four times a month. Coming up, on Sunday, March 15, it will be featured at the annual Nowruz (Persian New Year) festival in Tysons Corner.

One of this year’s most ambitious programs is Gray’s new, evening-length concert work called Visions from the Book of Omens, premiering at Joe’s Movement Emporium in Mount Rainier, Md., in October. Inspired by a Smithsonian exhibit on Falnama (Book of Omens) a decade ago, the work guides people lost in hopelessness during a dark, disturbing time. An online description from the Smithsonian says of the Book of Omens, “The most splendid tools ever devised to tell the future were known as Falnama …. Notable for their monumental size, brilliantly painted compositions and unusual subject matter,” Falnama were very popular in the 15th and 16th centuries in the Ottoman and Persian empires. They became choreographic inspiration for Gray: “Visually they were so impressive to me. It caught my imagination.”

Later, she continues, “A storyline presented itself: Imagine someone at court seeking out a falchiyan-i musavvir or falchi– a fortune teller -- with a question. Maybe it’s a rich young girl who wants to get married … The page turns to an image and then the falchi explains the meaning. Only the falchi could do that.” The fortune teller becomes Gray’s choreographic device: first comes the image from the book, and then a dance will unfold that will tell the fortune. The dance will serve the falchi’s function in Visions from the Book of Omens.

She’d like two possible endings with someone from the audience choosing an image (at the beginning), which will determine the ending. “This would require two sets of choreographies, two sets of costumes and casts,” she notes. She’ll work on seeing if that’s possible in the process of choreographing.

Gray brought up the issue of cultural appropriation and explained why this doesn’t occur in her work for SRDC. She says, “When something is precious, it can belong to the world. However, you do have to have permission, and I am very conscious of that.” Permission for Gray comes from studying directly with the top artists of various cultural dance styles, like Uzbekistan’s Dusmukhamedova.

Not only does Gray have permission from dance practitioners abroad, but those to whom the tradition belongs through heritage attend her local performances and she’s invited to bring her work abroad. She’s now an internationally recognized scholar, performer and choreographer, teaching at George Washington University, in addition to running SRDC. This coming fall, Silk Road Dance has been invited to Uzbekistan -- again. But, fortunately for local fans, SRDC will be performing here in Washington this coming Saturday.

Photos: Courtesy Silk Road Dance Company, photographer: Pete Estrada

PREVIEW: Dancing Undocumented

By Lisa Traiger

Artist activist, choreographer, educator and performer Gabriel Mata moves in sweeping arcs. Diving to the floor, fanning a leg into a cartwheel, dipping into a deep and generous lunge, he divvies up the space to trace his life’s trajectory. Lanky and lean, with a shock of black hair, Mata moves with an unrestrained sense of athleticism that toggles between virtuosic and casually off the cuff. His latest piece, This is where/I Begin …, a meditation on creativity and living an undocumented life, opens at the Intersections Festival. Mata, an MFA candidate at University of Maryland College Park, speaks with arts journalist Lisa Traiger about his background, his inspiration and hopes for his work. Their conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

PREVIEW: This is where/I Begin …

Gabriel Mata Movements
Feb. 21, 2020, 8:00 p.m.
Atlas Intersections Festival 2020, Atlas Performing Arts, 1333 H St. NE, Washington, DC https://www.atlasarts.org/events/this-is-where-i-begin/

Lisa Traiger: Your newest solo This is where/I Begin … incorporates a great deal of your background. What can you tell us about yourself.

Gabriel Mata: I was born in Huitzuco de los Figueroa, which is a small town in the state of Guerrero in Mexico. That's where my mom as well as my grandmother and great grandmother were. My mom decided to immigrate, obviously for a better life for herself and her children, and also to be able to help her family. I had just turned five when we immigrated in 1996. The first city we lived in, and the city that I lived in the longest, was Santa Ana in Southern California.

We lived there most of my childhood. That’s where I went to high school.

L.T.: When did you begin to dance?

G.M.: I started to dance at Santa Ana High School. Initially it was just to meet the high school arts requirement, but I really got into it. Our instructor at the time taught us dance history and nutrition and production and choreography; it wasn't just about moving in the space. It was really about engaging through all other forms of the arts, narrative and story. I wanted more.

When I graduated, I received several scholarships to the local community college, Santa Ana College, which had a really good program. I was very fortunate to get my ballet and modern training there. Within the Western American culture, I experienced modern and ballet training that exemplified what it means to be a good, developed American. So there I was trying to transition from this immigrant status into somehow realizing that I would become a citizen through dance. But this notion of a melting pot is really an illusion … it really ends up [projecting us] into the culture and demands of white Anglo America.

L.T.: You were undocumented?

G.M.: I still am. Currently I have DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). I’m a Dreamer. Since I turned 21 in 2013, I applied for back action for DACA, which was enacted under the Obama Administration. That allowed me to access higher education, get a driver’s license, and to work legally … which is very important.

I was very fortunate to get a scholarship that paid for my tuition for my undergraduate studies at San Jose State University.

L.T.: This is where/I Begin … contains multiple layers of meaning that you peel away in the piece. You literally map your life on stage. Can you tell us about that?

G.M.: In the piece I look into where my body has been in the past, where I grew up, the space that I grew up in. That’s where I start. The beginning is the past, the ending is the future, in the middle I create a space where I’m navigating and forming something choreographic as an extension of my life. I repeat often that “I am making something.” I want there to be a duality between the dance and my life, between where I am and where I want to be in the future.

I look at future as being definite, securing my place in the space, saying this is where I’ll wake up in the morning, next to my husband and we’ll walk our dog. I always imagine myself and how I will continue living in the space, however that’s not definite. I’m showing my dreams and aspirations and hoping to cement them by beginning with my thoughts and just sending that out into the world.

When I repeat, “I am making something,” I interject with the type of interpretation the audience can take in.

L.T.: I love that moment because of the duality of meaning: You’re both making or building your life, but you’re also making something artistic. We see your creative process at work in the work. The piece deals with beginnings and trajectories, in life and in art.

G.M.: The last thing I say [in the piece] is, “I am making something and no one should ever be able to take that away from me.” I’ve been here for 23 years of my life and for someone to just be able to take that away from me …. I have the hardest time imagining that all of this can be taken away from me because I’m still not a citizen. I can tell you, as an active artist in the grant and funding process in the U.S., I would have no idea about how to access that in Mexico.

L.T.: How do you mark your identity and navigate this duality of two countries, two cultures?

G.M.: While I don’t have citizenship and this is the only country I know, I’m noticing that that doesn’t make me feel like I’m any less Mexican either because there’s such a dynamic way of identity. I’ve always been Mexican through the way I grew up, through the other language I speak, through my cultural inheritance and the ways I’ve been able to fully engage being Mexican without being in Mexico.

L.T.: Where do you want to see this work go?

G.M.: I would like to have provocative conversations [because of this work. Questions are constantly being generated by me. I write [them] down. I articulate [them], but [the questions] also end up coming out in my own performing body. It is part of my creative well. I'm in constant motion through thinking and through movement. Within my practice I try to surprise both of those spaces. I am a critical thinker within the theory, but also I want to give that shape and form and body.

While D.C. is my home now, it’s a Democratic [city]. I also would like to present this work to spaces that don’t accommodate that as well. I want to bring up questions and, as my piece does, question citizenship. We should also question who gets to say what citizenship is. It’s not a singular thing. As someone who doesn’t have citizenship yet in the only country I know, I would argue to someone who says, “Go back to your country.” I would say, “This in my country. It’s the only country I know.”

As for the piece, I feel like within the choreographic components, it could help facilitate artists who are not just dancers, but maybe writers or musicians …. I feel that there is a process within it that allows us to reflect on citizenship … and can also serve as a model for self-care and self-reflection.

Photos: courtesy Gabriel Mata, by Robert Woofter