“As We See It…” is featured in The Movement Performance Journal #56 (Summer 2022). This topic of dance writing was of interest due to the prolific dance artists, scholars, writers, curators, and critics that were featured in this edition. It spoke to my recent endeavor as a self-proclaimed “Cultural Critic and Dance Writer” which is more so out of necessity in my South Florida community. Yaa Asantewaa dives in, boldly with the first affirmation and “read” concerning the erasure, invisibility, and lack of recognition of writers of color in the field (29). White dance critics affirm and recognize each other but do not offer that same level of regard and distinction to dance writers of color (29). That set the tone of the article. In terms of erasure and invisibility, we have a similar concern in South Florida. The issues are the lack of 1. Black dance writers; 2. dance writers who know dance kinesthetically, historically, and culturally; 3. previewing/reviewing of Black dance companies and 4. support of Black dance artists in the community by mainstream presenters and media outlets. The article is timely, I wrote five pages of notes; the nuggets were nuggeting!

The women tackled pertinent topics such as appropriate compensation for “Knowledge, skill, labor, and time…” (Yaa Asantewaa 2022, 28) and the erasure and invisibility of Black dance writer’s voices in mainstream outlets. I have asked myself and several members of Florida Black Dance Artists Organization (FBDAO) this question concerning how we can get compensated for doing “the necessary work” particularly outside of our communities? There are so many talking points which I can’t address in this response, but I will present some of the poignant statements/themes from the “Trinity” (Yaa Asantewaa, Dixon-Gottschild, and Warren!).

• “To me the only way to talk writing and to write talking about dance is to be in that frame of reference so that you’re more like an anthropologist who is working from the emic frame…rather than an etic frame [from an outside perspective]” (Dixon-Gottschild 2022, 30).
• “…Racism is encoded in the white DNA, if you will…But is so deeply embedded in our Euro-American culture that, in a sense, the critic is bringing that with them all the time” (Dixon-Gottschild 2022, 30).
• “How are we to reach people who are not already clued into how magnificent an art form dance is and the geniuses we have in it?” (Yaa Asantewaa 2022, 30).
• “We need our writers, and we need them writing from a variety of different motivations and perspectives” (Yaa Asantewaa 2022, 30).
• “We need both our own platform and mainstream” (Yaa Asantewaa 2022, 30).
• “Just because a person is designated a dance critic doesn’t mean that they know what they’re talking about” (Yaa Asantewaa 2022, 32).

This article distinctly informs us of where we are and points us in the direction where we need to go, even proffering ideas and suggestions centered on authenticity and “being in it,” (the emic versus the etic). It was made abundantly clear that we need our own spaces to discuss our brilliant, Black moving bodies but we also need other platforms that will allow us to extend our reach to other communities (Warren 2022, 33). That can happen through the ways we discuss the “history, analysis, and perspective” (Warren 2022, 34) of our artist’s work. We are still dealing with many challenges in the field which is heavy laden with white supremacy and non-Black voices writing about cultures they have no knowledge of or investment in. Warren offers staunch advice, “write what you see” and “make our own.”

This “Trinity” of Black excellence has modelled how to beautifully make that happen, Warren through “Black Dance Stories,” Yaa Asantewaa with her Gibney projects, and Dr. Dixon-Gottschild with her plethora of scholarly literature of Black dance aesthetics and history (this is of course a too brief list of their many accomplishments!). I want to thank you all for your contribution, influence, and legacy. You have mentored more of us than you are aware of, and it is with great gratitude that I share my ardent appreciation for all that you have done for our Black dance community globally.

We move with joy and power
We write with fiyah
We see through the lens of wisdom, knowledge, and history
We are students of your brilliance

A’Keitha Carey
Cultural Critic and Dance Writer

Photo credits
Dr. Charmaine Warren (Tony Turner)
Eva Yaa Asantewaa (Queer-art.org)
Dr. Brenda Dixon-Gottschild (Humanitiesfutures.org)

P. Funk Junkies written and directed by Teo Castellanos premiered at the Miami Light Project with preview shows, October 3-5. The show opened Thursday, October 6 and closed Saturday, October 8th.  It was BRILLIANT! The casting was superb capturing the beauty of multigenerational cultural wisdom, knowledge, and artistry. The ensemble included Michelle Grant-Murray (co-choreographer/performer), Dr. Keshia Abraham (performer/dramaturg), Niurca Marquez (performer), Inez Barlatier (performer), Maria “Mercy” Lopez (performer), Teo Castellanos (performer/writer/director) and Augusto Soledade (co-choreographer).
 
The piece began with Inez, the Haitian American empress demarcating the space, placing white tape on the floor in the shape of a cross creating boundaries that were crossed, disrupted and trampled on. She wore a red long sleeve fitted shirt with black palazzo pants, cowrie shell bra, black corset, and African fabric draped around her hips. Was she the devil woman? When she completed her ritual, the rest of the cast entered to a reggae beat. Niurca and Michelle carry linen and prepare their area and take their seated positions.
Michelle and Niurca wear pants in various earth tones. Michelle is wearing goggles on her head, body paint, a cowrie shell bra with African fabric attached to it, providing a rich layered effect and can we talk about the diverse movement technologies that live in this woman’s body? I’ll wait. Niurca dazzles us with a yellow print bustier, pants split up the thighs serving us legs hunny. She also has feathers in her hair; I’m getting indigenous vibes. You can see the gorgeous tattoo that extends from her hip to her shin/ankle. Tao enters, wearing red loose pants, a printed vest, cowrie shell necklace, and arm band, the cast starts singing. Mercy’s costume boldly informs us of duality or identity struggle. There’s a rough and edgy element to her look, juxtaposed with a calmer persona. And girlfriend is rockin’ bantu knots, okay! And then Queen Keshia! Melanin is poppin’; her essence is giving all kinds of fierceness! She wears several shades of blue, a crown, gold chunky necklace, a feathered top that resembles some sort of breast plate, cowrie shell belt, leggings and carries her most important artifact, the Moses rod. Queen Keshia takes her seat upstage center in all her regality. All I can think of is Tarrus Riley’s song “She’s Royal” to describe this vision.  Queen Keshia looks at Nuirca, identifies her as “lover”; now we are ready to begin!

Each cast member shared powerful monologues ranging from being in love with a god (Niurca), engaging in religious rituals with church elders and a baseball reference (Michelle), being half punk and half skin (Mercy), the challenges of expressing feminine energy in a male body (Tao), and colonization, slavery, and the inequities and injustices in the prison system for Black and Brown people (Keshia). The topics were heavy, but the integration of satire allowed for a realism that is indicative of Black culture, “you gotta laugh to keep from cryin’”. These are our survival strategies, right? Thematically, the work is deep, overtly addressing the “isms” of society—much of this went over, around the corner, and down the street to the predominantly white audience (missed, ignored, avoided etc.). I mean the ensemble were calling out and SCREAMING colonialism, inequality of Black and Brown lives, and racism, and the space was ripe with ancestral spirits which was visible in the costuming, the monologues, movement, music, and artifacts.
​
Tao offered us his absolute best and got it all in. There was dub; punk; rock; capoeira; African dance; modern dance; twerking; popping; winning; grooving; waacking; LGBTQ references; the Orishas Ogun and Yemeya; and Haitian loas Demballa/Yanvalou and Ghede, Latin culture (language and aesthetics), Dionysus and so much more. This was a political work with so many contemporary cultural references that you had to sit with it and make connections and decisions—if you wanted to. Congratulations P. Funk Junkies…y’all did that! 
Photographer: Kevin Alvarez Cordova
 
 

The Woman King Review

I had the pleasure and privilege of watching The Woman King this weekend, a film directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood— it doesn’t disappoint! It is not only brilliant in its story telling and acting by a powerhouse cast of amazingly talented and sublime Black women and men; but the love, ferocity, tenderness, dignity, and humanity that was performed was breathtaking. My reactions were visceral; I breathed deeply, shouted, cringed, cussed, celebrated, and danced with these women. 


This movie is a classic! It’s teachable beyond its historical references of the Agojie, an all female army of “mi nah rump” women who protected the African Kingdom of Dahomey in the 1800’s. And, then there’s Black feminism/womanism, African spirituality, African and African Diaspora cultural theory…which are all of massive proportions. This film is the embodiment and manifestation of survival, power, mothering/motherhood, and Ovahstanding the assignment! There is not enough time to discuss the choreographed fight scenes and the costumes (which I would definitely rock). Yassss ma’am!  It’s giving chiseled core, arms, back and legs hunny!  Just go and see the movie!

Moving Forward:
I am (re)thinking my own work/performance of the Warrior Woman (CariDad) that I constructed and how I can/should/need to approach this project with the superb level of attention and care to Black womanhood, virtuosity, and erotic performance (my dissertation research!) that I witnessed on screen. This is one of THE BEST movies I have seen in a longgggggg time. You is a boss Ms. Viola! No, you is a Woman King!!! Big up ya self!❤️❤️ Thank you to Viola Davis, her cadre of Warrior Women, and supreme production team for centering us and showing us that we are more than enough and have always been.

Image 1. Black woman at dinner prior to seeing Woman King thinking about the wonderment soon to come.

Image 2. CariDad Warrior Woman (2022)
Photographer:Melanie Valle

​

Miami Broward Carnival 2022 Review

“What a time” as my grandmother Annie Diggiss would say. It was sumtin’ last night boy! I attended Miami Broward Carnival Parade and Concert at FIU’s Fair Grounds. But first can we address why we had to “walk a mile and a half” to get to the entrance? I was walking so fast, my Apple Watch activated assuming I was working out; but I digress.

The devil was busy because the weather was not trying to let these hips activate. It was storming in both Dade and Broward. I finally made it on di road at 7:45pm and after looking for parking and my 18 mile hike, I made it to the entrance—it was well after 9pm and di party done at 11pm! So, I had to get it in quick. I was already warmed up from my sprint. As I got closer, the music was blasting, bass pumpin’, hips rollin’, and di herbalist dem was in full effect—it was ripe!

As I walked in Blaxx’s “Mash it up” was pumping on the soca stage. Mi reach! I haven't been to Carnival since COVID so, it was a celebration for many reasons. It felt right. In natural riddim, I walked and wined looking for a familiar face. I finally located my crew after 20 minutes of texting back and forth and I was able to settle into my excitement.

All di Queen’s were representing Nadia Baston and Patrice “Again” Robert’s were carryin’ on bad. The crowd continued to thicken gravitating towards the stage as all of our favorite tunes were playing. Then it shifted—the crowd in unison chanted “Backyard Jam” to Farmer Nappy’s smooth and groovy tune…eyyyyy! And den di stage get mash up with Skinny Fabulous! Woieeeeeeeee! Listen, rags were waving, people were jumpin’, waist lines were wukkin’ up! It was sweet!
​
And di man dem couldn’t stay off of Shanna Woods CEO of Lavish Lovin. Dem oils and cremes was poppin’ hunny. I mean left and right dey was pulling up for a wine! Yassss sis…and she gave them what they were looking for. Y’all bettah get these natural products.
The evening ended with our ritual of receiving the blessings from the Carnival Costume Gods! Thank you for another wonderful year of embodied freedom, cultural expression, and multicultural diasporic joy! See you next year!

National Dance Theatre Company (Full Review)
Profound, Prolific, Brilliant, and Joyous! This briefly encompasses the National Dance Theatre Company’s (NDTC) performance at both The South Miami Dade Cultural Center and The Miramar Cultural Center. Sir Rex Nettleford’s legacy, spirit, and impact was felt during the company’s performances which is a testament to the boundless investment of culture, dance, history and tradition that Nettleford gifted the company, Jamaica, and Caribbean dance scholars and practitioners globally.
 
Talk about full production and ensemble—vocalists, musicians/drummers, and dancers. As we waited for the performance to begin, the vocalists entered the space and set themselves up in the orchestra pit. The curtains opened—the drumming and singing were mesmerizing. The piece Drum Score (1979) commenced the Caribbean music and dance celebration. I appreciated the multigenerational representation allowing for a sense of community, acceptance, and inclusion. The dancer’s bodies breathed, giving life to the space. Torso’s contracted and undulated, evoking Yanvalou, the snake deity in Haitian Vodou. Hips were winding and rolling, matching the intensity of the vocalists. Afro Cuban deities Ogun and Shango were evidenced in the movement as arms flung with power, articulation, and intentionality. I asked myself when was the last time I witnessed something similar? I had no answer. It was a moment not only of awe but also pride that as a Caribbean artist, we are tremendously gifted and proficient.
 
Rita Marley’s Tribute (2022) boldly demonstrated the depth and strength of Rastafarian culture, aesthetics, and spirituality. The backdrop was a beautiful image of the Rasta lion/lion of Judah, colors (red, gold, and green). Performers entered with the Rastafari diamond gesture wearing all white with red, yellow, and green fabric draped around their shoulders and neck. The nyabinghi drumming was alluring and hypnotic, drawing the audience in through the rhythmic pounding and slapping of the drum. My back arched and sank continuously in sync with the cadence. As I grooved with the music, I asked myself “how does this music make my body feel and what does it remind me of ?” There was a sense of familiarity as I reminisced on the bodily gestures that I observed in many of the Rasta’s I saw who dance to reggae music. The ways their bodies float in the air and the oppositional pull of the shoulder to knee while the torso salutes the heavens as the back spirals in a circular-linear manner is a sight to behold.
​
The woman’s piece Unbroken (2022) which addresses the support and encouragement for women and Kerry Ann’s Solo “How Long Sweet Jesus” demonstrates the power, strength, virtuosity, and dexterity of the women in this company. What an alluring expression of erotic performance, beauty, agility, and grace.
Rough Draft (2014) and Gerrehbenta (1993) were full ensemble works with the former taking on a contemporary vibe while engaging in traditional and social dance forms while the later demonstrates traditional Jamaican song and dance. Both works feature Jamaican culture and aesthetics drawing the audience in through sensory stimulation.
 
Rough Draft’s (2014) set design includes asymmetrical framing with a slanted pilar with fabric draped from upstage right to downstage left. The colors ranged from dark pink/fuchsia with the backdrop lighting changing from red, blue/purple, and green. Dancers entered the stage draped in fabric rolling in from stage right. There was so much going on, a cacophony of movement, sound, costume design; I mean the dancers must have had 4 costume changes all of which belonged in my closet!
 
The energy was constant even in moments of stillness. There was constant energy and flow; their bodies devoured the space, and the sense of Jamaican national spirit and pride were threaded through the movement and costume—and the bow—this was fiyah! We witnessed everything from gerreh, traditional African dance movements, Rastafarian gesture and walks, dancehall moves, and the aesthetic of the cool (hot and cold).
Gerrehbenta (1993) was an immediate and profound YASSSS! The audience jumped right in clapping and singing, most of them knew the songs and rhythms which was amazing to see and hear. Dinky-mini and gerreh movement were central to the work and the feet and hand rhythms added to the intricate soundscape. The various movement patterns across the floor supported the festive costumes and vibrant lighting.
 
After the performance, the director of NDTC, received an award presented by the Consul General. The mayor, Wayne Messam, joined the company for the finale and they both showed us their best dinky mini. As the audience exited, many were singing and dancing. I watched a woman seated behind me dinky mini out the isle, gathering the attention of those nearby. It was a beautiful evening! Well done NDTC and thank you to the Louise Bennett Heritage Council; Ms. Olivia Grange and the Minister of Culture, Gender, Entertainment, and Sports; Consulate General of Jamaica Mr. R. Oliver Mair; and Mayor Wayne Messam for supporting this project.
 

Dear wonderful readers,

Please check out my latest article!

Abstract
This article investigates rasanblaj, a reservoir of knowledge that explores the sensual and spiritual in performance and praxis. I examined my own work as an artist/scholar and how I was instituting "assembly, compilation, and enlisting and regrouping (of ideas, things, people and spirits)." I also reflected on how this term integrated with the dance technique CaribFunk that I originated. The technique is "essentially a breaking and joining, and ambivalent movement within and without that results in the creating of new and often imagined spaces for cultural and social engagement" (Hope 2006b, 127) and addresses the politics of identity and subversion through the exploration of the hip wine (circular rotation of the hips) often found in the stylistic and virtuosic performances of Jamaican Dancehall and Trinidadian Carnival. Recognizing histories, memory, and embodied knowledge, I will demonstrate how Caribbean sensibilities, the erotic as power and CaribFunk serves as a framework to discuss Rasanblaj.