January 10, 2012
Where do I go when I dance?
There’s nowhere to go but rather pass through your moments into my tomorrow. The news will only reach you late. And timing is everything in your today.
Digging for something that will never be found but still exists in my safe space. That is where my body breathes in tomorrow. Come find me there.
Intentional eyes see beats vibrating from feet, no stomping. Foot-working the love it has for earth, stepping in its own sweat. Not yours. Understand what is left to be understood.
My hands will only reach beyond your sight. Needing more than wants will offer. What’s to become of me in your moments? Whispers in the wind.
Days pass yet when my tomorrow comes it will last beyond dreams. Walk with me for a while. Tomorrow catches what today lets slip through its fingers.
Movement is my lifetime, not moment, in tomorrow. What you see is how I seem to be. Turn away and look again.
Where do you go when I dance?
Chitra Vairavan trained in Bharata Natyam with Hema Rajagopalan. In 2004 she began her journey in contemporary Indian movement through Ananya Dance Theatre (ADT). Chitra has since become a principal dancer in the company and received the 2008 Sage Cowles People’s Choice Award and been named Artist to Watch by Minnesota Monthly in 2011.
August 2, 2011
I watched the film “The Stoning of Soraya M.” as research for last year’s production, Kshoy! Now, in this new project, Tushaanal, Soraya’s story persists in my mind, and I realize this is not a “new” project. Nothing is new when it comes to stories of violence and greed, told repeatedly with ragged breath by history.
July 19, 2011
Contribution by Lori Young-Williams
My first time sitting through a rehearsal of Tushaanal: Fires of Dry Grass. They are currently working on the part where the women who have lived close to the gold mines, lost family, friends, lives friends decide to torch the place. Gold becomes flames. The gold of jewelry, flecks, and rocks of gold become golden embers, destroying what gold has made of their community, their lives.
Watching and getting the message through
swing swing swing hold
Moving arms from shoulders down through
to the feet Stomp
Dip, moving arm through the wind
Dip, swipe floor with leg
“Come out like a burst!” Ananya says…
“There’s a left and a right…”
And come they do.
With hands bending at the waist
turn and roll to the side
Clap! Fire Burn
Lips of fire, women fan the flames
Pour gasoline, kerosene, anything
to ignite, the women
You can see this through the movement and placement of their hands, through the twisting and bending of the dancers bodies. The rise and fall as if wind is blowing, spreading the fire through the camp, the community, the mine. The fits and starts of fire is made into dance movement and gives life to something else…
Burn it all and rebuild. When fire burns the soil is fertile and gives life. The women who have lived through Gold, around the mines in the cities close to the mines are trying to find something new.
While at the rehearsal, Laurie Carlos popped in to go over the language of the performance. And I took away a line – The Promise of Glitter. The promise that gold will make one beautiful, rich, wanted. And yet the promise doesn’t. It doesn’t make you whole. The promise of glitter is cheap. It’s hard to get and easy to lose. Always, expecting it to fill something. And it doesn’t. The Promise of Glitter leads to the Birth of Flames.
Hunger…that’s the promise of gold.
July 15, 2011
ADT Opens the Southern Theater Season
September 8-11 with “Tushaanal: Fires of Dry Grass”
The second piece in a four-year, anti-violence project exploring
the experiences of women of color across the globe.