Continuity and Callaloo
The most difficult thing to negotiate in the creation of '
Fresh Water' is its breadth and scope.
But it is the depth of breadth and scope that is fundamental to the spirit of
Fresh Water;
for the work to be imbued with movement that is as mysterious,
physically vital and conceptually sensual, as unique to Trinidad & Tobago as
callaloo. I have opened myself (and the work) to the infinite individual, creative and artistic possibilities of this continuum - evolving in the rootedness of Africa,
current of India, legacy of the
Carib and Arawak, and influence of South America, North America, and Europe. It has been 20 years since I've
lived in Trinidad (and my first return since my father's passing), so 'Fresh Water' is also deeply steeped in personal memories. It is
a dance between Memory and Reality. About family, legacy and continuity; tradition and heritage; about the fragility of life and....the fragility of culture.
how the work has developed so farI first began thinking about 'Fresh Water' at the end of 2004 and showed an excerpt at Chicago's
Links Hall
shortly after. It was a simple, light-spirited 5-minute solo that
included Caribbean children's songs like "Brown Girl in The Ring" and
"Sandy Girl". I'd also used "Shango" (from
Alan Lomax's Caribbean Voyage sampler collection), music by
Laventille Riddim Section and a mix of popular songs.
At this point, 'Fresh Water' was mostly inspired by my childhood
memories. This version of the work later became the school version
performed as part of
the Company's arts education program.
(During a 2006 arts ed program in Western NY, I was glad to meet a few
teachers who had been using "Brown Girl in the Ring" in their
classrooms but hadn't known where it came from. There was an immediate
connection to the work for their young students.) Nonetheless, I had
to put 'Fresh Water' to rest for a while in order to choreograph
another work, but knew the feedback would be helpful in developing the
work later on.
Fifteen
months later, I was able to again focus on 'Fresh Water'. By this time,
I had moved to Curepe - the Eastern Trinidad village I grew up in. Now,
my Trinidad experience was a juxtaposition of memory and reality; of
then and now. Of the strong presence of my father in my memory combined
with the reality that he is no longer living on earth. And the
experience of being with people who, after many years of separation
don't really know
me, but could recount hours and hours of
stories about my family history. (Never mind the intermittent twisted
story where someone tried to "stew the peas a different color" or
rewrite history.) And, of the sweet memory of being a little girl in
Trinidad and the fact that I am now a "big woman" with real
responsibilities and a sometimes bitter real world awareness.
In July 2006, during a short visit to New York, I received a call
from Trinidadian multimedia artist,
Elspeth Duncan
saying that she'd had a dream that she took as an
affirmation to collaborate on the work. In October 2006, I performed a 14-minute version of
Fresh Water as part of GALVANIZE
- a series of arts programmes aimed at offering a collaborative,
investigative platform for the development of contemporary Caribbean
art. Headed by artist Mario Lewis
and
supported by
Caribbean Contemporary
Arts,
the Galvanize platform
presented new work by visual, performing, and literary artists, and
provoked critical discussion of art practice
and reception in the contemporary Caribbean.
"Fresh Water" was still a solo work, but
this time Elspeth's video was integrated into it. And now, the
sounds became oceanic. The waves of Las Cuevas (captured 6 months
earlier as I lay on the beach for my birthday) opened the work, to be
followed by journal entries, folk stories, and a poem. Three drummers
from
San Fernando's Nantambu Drummers
(who played for
Miriam Makeba at Emancipation Day celebrations 2 months earlier)
beat out Bob Marley's Rastaman Chant. At one point, I laid flat out on
the floor for three minutes. I would not, could not, did not move. One
of the drummers, Fela (my uncle and who along with my father was among
the first Nantambu Durmmers), began to sob. In between, sang Jimmy Ciff
and Ella Andall - whose singing finally brought water to my
eyes. Like
mas, it was cathartic. And like mas, I'm only to perform it once.
this is what I'm working on now'
Fresh Water' is constantly renewing, reincarnating, refreshing. I continue to create solo versions of this work and will also explore a group version in the next few months. On 31 May 2008, 'Fresh Water' will be part of
Choreographic Sketches: Series II Informal Showing, at Brooklyn Information & Culture (BRIC) Studio in Fort Greene. The work will then have its New York premiere during the Roots & Wings Movement! Fifth Anniversary in October 2008. Meanwhile, continue to join me as I create this important new work...
JoAnna Norris is the curator of
Choreographic Sketches. She can be contacted at
joanna.h.norris@gmail.com. BRIC Studio is located at 647 Fulton Street in Brooklyn, NY. Tel: 718 855-7882 Email bricstudio@briconline.org.
Posted by
Makeda Thomas on December 5, 2007 6:46 AM
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I know this is a real struggle for you, but I think you are on to something revolutionary. Keep digging, the Ancestors are opening the way..I am so proud of you !!!!! Blessings