Breaking bread & singing & being American

Posted in Uncategorized | October 27, 2009 | by Joyce Lawler | (1) Comment

Tagged Under : , ,


Last weekend, I was warmly welcomed into the community at Intermedia Arts in Minneapolis for “Singing the Legacy of Sekou Sundiata” — a citizenship potluck dinner and community sing inspired by the civic activism and artistry of poet, performer and educator Sekou Sundiata.   Nearly 100 people turned out (on a Saturday night no less) to not only enjoy the great food and music but to pause and reflect on “American-ness” — our own and each other’s.  The eagerness to share this exploration was palpable.  We all have an American story or song or dream to share, different from having our opinions to express (and axes to grind).  Responses to the question “when do you most feel like a citizen?” included when I put my money in the bank and when I go to a baseball game and when I work with new immigrants to the U.S. and when I helped Barack Obama get elected and when I hand my passport over to the immigration official and watch them stamp it.  There was no patriotic agenda, only patriotic feelings.  It was refreshing to be in a place and space created to nurture this personal exchange. Thank you Theresa, Julie, Reggie and Marlina, the wonderful performers, and everyone else at Intermedia who committed to making this evening happen, along with all the other citizenship dinners and lunchtime gatherings you hosted last week.  We look forward to hearing how this conversation continues in your community.


One day you’ll be ready for David Roussève

Posted in Uncategorized | October 20, 2009 | by emilyharney | Leave a Comment

Tagged Under : , ,


When I was younger, my mother used to tell me, “One day you will be ready for David Roussève.” As much as I hate to admit it, she was right, and what she meant was that Roussève’s is not a choreography of simplicity; it is a choreography that requires of its viewer a little life experience.  Roussève’s work does not privilege one genre over another: dance, poetry, theater, and film are given equal weight.  Most of all, Roussève is an excavator of memory, and we can see from Bittersweet that his work invites hauntings and grandmothers, lovers and mirrors.  By lingering on the personal in such a way that allows us all to think of our mothers and their mothers, Roussève arrives at collective memory via the individual story.

Moreover, throughout the Bittersweet Trilogy, he weaves multiple narratives, and it is this weaving that lends the work a grand sense of history.  By meandering through multiple temporalities, seemingly personal traumas come to stand for shared experience.  Nevertheless, the emphasis of his work lies in two intertwined areas: femininity and race.  Roussève explores blackness and diaspora by giving voice to women’s emotions, especially those emotions that have been silenced by history.  These voices emerge both as text and corporeal expression.  The film we just watched gestures toward the idea that women in otherwise painful relationships can find comfort—even pleasure—in each other.  However, such experiences can only ever be felt as bittersweet, as joy amidst pain.  Most of all, the voices in Bittersweet avoid resolution, mirroring—without dictating—the difficulty of America’s history.

In Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route, Saidiya Hartman writes, “To lose your mother was to be denied your kin, country, and identity.  To lose your mother was to forget your past….Like the myth of the mother, the promise of return is all that remains in the wake of slavery” (85, 100).

Finally, Deleuze tells us, “Memory is not in us; it is we who move in a Being-memory, a world-memory” (Cinema 2: The Time-Image 99).

—Ariel Osterweis Scott

Final Performance at Walker Art Center

Posted in Uncategorized | October 27, 2008 | by emilyharney | (2) Comments

Tagged Under : , , , ,