Beautiful Resistance
Photo: Art Like Us - Kelly Strayhorn Theater | Pittsburg
Pictured: Kealoha Ferreria
Ananya, her dancers, the musicians, set designers, and actors are brilliant. Together they are working to disrupt stereotypes, flip power structures, and shift the paradigm on people of color. Year after year they produce an impressive work that ranges from despairing, hopeful, and joyous. Injustice and pain are vividly portrayed, causing deeply felt emotions from myself and, I assume, the audience. Every time I see a work I am reminded of Ananya’s sentiment to us students, “You must take things personally.”
The performances of Ananya Dance Theater seem to have a well-tested formula. I have only seen four out of the twelve seasons that ADT has existed as a company. Based on my observations the overarching theme is that people of color overcome some evil. That evil changes from season to season: wars, walls, GMOs, a future where people don’t know how to love etc. Often, over the course of the performance, the dancers portray loss, pain, struggle, resistance, overcoming, set back, fighting even harder, love, truly overcoming, and celebration. This mode of storytelling is a declaration of hope and love told by people often stripped of both in our society: women of color.
ADT’s most recent work, Shyamali: Sprouting Words did not stray from this method. The piece opened with whispers and smoke. Dancers were sliding the blades of their hands over their own necks, gasping. They were costumed in white rags, each with a smattering of red fabric reminiscent of blood. Movement included falling to the floor and jumping forward like crickets. At times a dancer would halt with their hands up and scream only to cover up their outcry with their palm.
This section included a rippling of struggle, outcry, and silencing. Eventually each dancer melded into a heap except one, Renée. She shared a solo that was overflowing with heartache. Then the conglomerate of dancers dispersed as each rolled off stage. There was a sense of quiet and emptiness that was soon filled with a woman, Mankwe Ndosi, in robes: the Goddess of New Dawns. Her singing enveloped the space with a glowing, vibrating texture. She brought about a healing.
The image of falling grass was projected in the background. Dancers returned, spreading and growing. Clad as grass warriors, I was reminded of what company member Leila once told me, that Ananya tells her dancers to be like grass: soft, mobile, and enduring. Leila said,"If grass was too hard it would break every time we step on it. Even so, when we cut the grass or step on it or the snow falls on it, it still finds a way to grow back." The ensuing performance included the projection shifting from barbwire to brick to aluminum to some sort of rust. Each was faced with the labor of self sacrificing, intentional love. Grass finding its way back, building roots.
Photo: V. Paul Virtucio
Then arose a duet between Leila and Renèe, two women of color exemplifying a loving, trusting, affirming relationship. There was a powerful exchange of energy, time, self, and touch. The enfolding of a relationship between two women of color on stage, something that is underrepresented, was clear and moving. Leila and Renée didn’t appear to be sappy or acting. Their wrapping of limbs and proximity lent an intimacy to the duet without over or under-sexualizing the relationship. The end of the duet was gripping. The two women braced each other, exchanged a fiery moment of eye contact before exploding into movement with the other dancers. I have since talked with Leila about this section and she compared it to two lovers waking up the morning of a protest and preparing their partner for the resistance.
The cement wall projected behind the dancers is eventually cracked by vines snaking and pushing through. Dancers beckoned forth more sun energy, now armed with dazzling shields. The bright defense gave off a heat and a climactic feeling that nothing could ever stop the stunning resistance.
I am friends with some ADT company members and the stage manager. I have had Ananya Chatterjea as a professor. From this I have gotten a sense for how much community work, rehearsal time, discussion, and planning go into one of their shows. The dancing and production are outstanding. In addition to excellent performances, ADT works with and for communities of color. Together they emanate courage and work to sustain communities. It is with this community focus that ADT pulses. I can feel the bond of the company from my seat; it's as stunning and dazzling as their shields on stage. I see in the audience a diverse crowd of people. Ananya Dance Theater's work is more than a call to action, it is an example of social justice at work.
