In the firing line
Watch out as
Donald Hutera tries to take aim at what triggers prejudice
Image: Donald Hutera. Photo: Lilia Pegado/Green
"I hate wheelchair dance." These
possibly inflammatory words were recently sent to me in an email by a
choreographing pal of mine. They were written after I'd forwarded a
press release to said artist announcing the presentation of work by a
physically disabled dance-maker.
I've no intention of revealing
the identity of either choreographer. It's irrelevant. What I'm drawn to
in this blunt statement is the reminder that we all carry prejudices
about with us like so much battered (but usually invisible) luggage.
Some are arts-related, while others take on a more personal edge. But
when you spot one in yourself or others, it might be worth taking the
time to tease out the reasoning behind it.
For instance, what if I
were to remark that the Royal Family are a pack of useless parasites?
Presuming I did hold this belief, would it have stopped me from having
my picture taken beside a waxwork Wills just a few weeks prior to the
full blast of wedding mania? I doubt it. Most hacks worth their salt
know a good photo opp when they see one.
But maybe the House of
Windsor is too easy a target. What if I were to say, 'Boy, do I hate fat
people'? Terribly non-PC, that. Would it help excuse my words were I to
add that I try to avoid sitting next to bulky or obese bodies on buses
and, especially, airplanes because I dislike having my physical space
impinged upon? I'm not sure.
But why stop there? I mean, what
about OAPs? A ballet-loving friend once put down the late Merce
Cunningham - whom I always loved seeing onstage - as 'an arthritic old
queen.' Was it Cunningham's age or his unconventional, even
deteriorated, physical condition that triggered that description? I
don't know, but I do wonder what this balletomane would say, or feel,
about the work of mature dancers in a community-based context.
Another
example: In these very pages I might've, in the past, 'fessed up about
my abhorrence of chairs in dance performances. Not wheelchairs, mind
you, but chairs with legs. After repeated nullifying experiences
watching dancers on chairs, the mere sight of such pieces of furniture
onstage used to signal long strings of silent uh-ohs and similar
internal alarm bells.
Funny, I can't recall just what those
experiences were. Nor the turning point when my attitude eased up.
Anyway, chairs are no longer anathema to me. My current performance
bugbear is microphones. Now what triggers the uh-ohs is seeing a mike,
whether on its stand or lying on the floor with a black cord snaking
away behind it. It means someone - often, but not exclusively, from
Continental Europe - onstage is eventually going to open his or her big
trap and speak, and possibly from a prone position.
This isn't
necessarily a bad thing. Some dance-based performers are capable of
successfully delivering text. Consider the cast of LOL, Luca
Silvestrini's barbed yet sensitive examination of internet dating
devised for his company Protein Dance, or Tanztheater Wuppertal in the
works of Pina Bausch. You've probably got your own, equally positive
examples.
But what about those bloody awful dancers who should
just shut up or be shot until they learn how to do it better? Uh-oh. Did
I just say that? My reaction might seem violently over the top. And
what if those indulging in the blah-blah I so loathed weren't really to
blame? It could well be that what was being said was crap, which in less
vulgar terms means that it lacked truth, beauty, illumination or
engagement, and the poor dancers just bore the brunt of my deep
dissatisfaction with what the choreographer or director was making them
do and say.
All of this, perhaps, indicates ways in which
prejudice is born: a negative or discomfiting experience - or
experiences, since it can be repetition that wears down tolerance -
causes us to lose perspective. Indeed, such events might so (dis)colour
our thinking that they yield oversimplified, knee-jerk statements like
'I hate wheelchair dance.'
I later asked the choreographer to
explain this antipathy, eliciting this (slightly edited) reply: "I hate
people using disability to access funding when I see many great dancers
with able bodies who have worked their arses off for years and can't get
work. I actually like to work with some people in wheelchairs, have
done so a lot and am frankly bloody good at it!"
Plenty of worms
and, to mix metaphors, chips on shoulders there. This isn't the place to
either dive into or weigh them up. What I found potentially useful was
asking, 'Why do you feel that way?' and initiating a dialogue. It's
certainly made me rethink what I profess to hate. Maybe I don't detest
microphones, or chairs, onstage as much as I once thought. Certainly I
should lighten up about dancers who lack the skills to handle speech.
After all, it's generally safer and wiser not to pack a pistol - or a
prejudice - when heading out to the theatre.
Donald Hutera writes regularly for The Times, Dance Europe, Animated and many other publications and websites.
contact donaldhutera@yahoo.com
The content of this site is proprietary to the Foundation for Community Dance and any access to this site
or the use of any content made by any person is expressly subject to these terms:
Unauthorised copying of any material (including artwork) on this site and the reproduction, storage,
transmission or the distribution of any content, either in whole or in part and in any medium or format,
without the prior written consent of the Foundation for Community Dance and, where appropriate, the author
or artist, is not permitted.
Please read our website terms & conditions by clicking here
Animated: Autumn 2011