Subjective Reporting of Aesthetic Emotional Perception in Dance
How do we know when art is good? Why do we agree when a dance feels sad? Why do we disagree on what the dance is trying to convey?
When I choreograph a dance piece, the last thing I am thinking about is whether or not the audience is going to like it. If that was what was driving my movement, or choreographic process, nothing would ever get made. Sure – I want to know that my steps are going to feel good to dance kinaesthetically, that the dancers can connect to the movement, and that there is flow in the phrases. Most importantly though, I want my movement to elicit some kind of response from the viewer. Is it the response that I have intended? Is the impetus behind the creation apparent? I don’t really care.
Feeling and emotion within some kind of aesthetic art piece are extremely subjective, despite the source: performing, visual, or auditory. However, scientists are eager to attempt to measure this – for better or for worse (Vukadinović M and Marković S 2012). Ines Schindler and colleagues have created a 42 question survey, known as a validated scale, that analyzes an audiences’ aesthetic emotional response to art (Schindler I et al 2017). They find 21 unique emotions that can be grouped into seven categories, based on the tightly correlated patterns. These groups — depressing, amusing, nostalgic, prototypical (or classical), cognitive, and negative — are arguably what most art boils down to.
The subtle changes in dance and movement-based performance make it hard to identify why these different kinds of emotions can be elicited. There are obvious elements: lighting, costume, music, and props, all of which can efficiently communicate meaning. Stripping it back to just the body, scientists found that timing, transitions, and choreographic structure are heavy players for adjusting feeling (Orlandi A et al. 2020; Orgs G et al. 2013; Chang M et al. 2015). Slowing down or speeding something up can change the aesthetic emotional meaning within an identical movement series. A higher number of velocity changes within the same movement can also alter the perception of reproducibility, a measure that was found to be significant in finding a piece ‘good’ (Orlandi A et al. 2020; Orgs G et al. 2013). Research also gives a nod to the effectiveness of a ‘pregnant pause’, a term an old dance teacher of mine used, describing an effective lack of movement within the chaos. Additionally, symmetrical choreographic structure is found to be favorable to asymmetrical structure (Orgs G et al. 2013). Thus, familiarity with sequential structure lends to a more comforting feeling within a dance piece.
It is worth mentioning, that it doesn’t take too deep of a dive into the literature to find a lack of diversity in dance style or culture measured. The dance styles looked into are generally European based, often derivatives of ballet. Largely, what is found in the current literature shows that dance becomes more interesting with variety, yet too much unpredictability can lead to a dislike of the movement over all. It would be interesting to know if this is something that transcends all dance styles – what alters aesthetic emotions to kinematics across cultures?
Once the art is presented, like a dance piece, it leaves the choreographer and becomes the audience’s. The dance takes on a life of its own, as the process of audience digestion cannot necessarily be predicted. Ultimately it’s up to the artist if they want their meaning to be transparent, as there is always the option of an artist’s statement.
Written by: Alexandria Jaeger
Chang M, Halaki M, Adams R, Cobley S, Lee KY, O’Dwyer N. An Exploration of the Perception of Dance and Its Relation to Biomechanical Motion: A Systematic Review and Narrative Synthesis. J Dance Med Sci. 2016;20(3):127-36. doi: 10.12678/1089-313X.20.3.127. PMID: 27661625.
Orgs G, Hagura N, Haggard P. Learning to like it: aesthetic perception of bodies, movements and choreographic structure. Conscious Cogn. 2013 Jun;22(2):603-12. doi: 10.1016/j.concog.2013.03.010. Epub 2013 Apr 23. PMID: 23624142.
Orlandi A, Cross ES, Orgs G. Timing is everything: Dance aesthetics depend on the complexity of movement kinematics. Cognition. 2020 Dec;205:104446. doi: 10.1016/j.cognition.2020.104446. Epub 2020 Sep 12. PMID: 32932073.
Schindler I, Hosoya G, Menninghaus W, Beermann U, Wagner V, Eid M, Scherer KR. Measuring aesthetic emotions: A review of the literature and a new assessment tool. PLoS One. 2017 Jun 5;12(6):e0178899. doi: 10.1371/journal.pone.0178899. PMID: 28582467; PMCID: PMC5459466.
Vukadinović M and Marković S. Aesthetic Experience of Dance Performances. Psihologija. 2012 Jan; 45 (1), 23–41. doi: 10.2298/PSI1201023V
What’s one of the most memorable (meaningful/ funny/ surprising) moments you’ve experienced while performing or creating?
Scout– My most memorable/meaningful/surprising/and funny moment creating was watching my piece being performed on stage and laughing hysterically at every moment of it. I didn’t realize that what I was making was so humorous, but having that reaction and hearing the audience laugh affirmed that my work is playful, and motivated me to continue to make spirited and unexpected pieces.
Has art ever changed your mind about something?
Tamar- Art has changed my mind about many, many, many things. Art continues to affect the way I look at life as a whole, the people I surround myself with (and the people I don’t), and how I contemplate my future. But most of all, art has changed my mind about food. It made me realize that food, like art, doesn’t have to look good, smell good, and most of all, be like something you’re familiar with to be good. Big takeaway is: art has changed my mind about the notion of good. Good is what good is to you…you know?
Is the project starting from any specific questions?
Scout– The work starts from a fascination with an object- the vintage Hoover vacuum. Why a vintage Hoover vacuum? It’s 2020 so, why not? Placing a functional object outside of its conventional context, and into a creative environment immediately mixes up our perception of its meaning. Through explorations we uncover various threads of significance behind the object and this snowballs into bringing new materials into the work and the possibilities mount. The question becomes what ideas and imagery that emerged are most poignant to us? Trusting our answers, the tone and choreography develops. The final product may still evoke the question, “why a vintage Hoover vacuum?”, but now we know the answer: isn’t it wonderful where it can take you?
If you could hang out with the ghost of any artist passed, who would it be? what would you do? what would you ask?
Tamar- I would be so down to hang out with Remy Charlip. Remy was many things: artist, writer, choreographer, theatre director, theatrical designer, and teacher. His visual art makes me smile. Anyone who can create a physical reaction from an inanimate object is someone I instantly admire!
I would want to simply sit with him. No distractions. I would ask two things: what was your favourite discipline? (he was very multidisciplinary… from dance, to watercolours, to costume design, and more) And the follow up question to that would be: how did you find having all these different outlets help you emote more? Feel more? Express what’s on your mind to the fullest?
His art, his use of colours, seep into my mind on a weekly basis. I would love to know how art of that nature came about in the first place.
Do you have any hobbies?
Scout– My hobbies include film photography, cooking, stretching, hiking, thrift shopping, sun tanning, and gardening.
Have you ever faced an intense or surprising crossroads in your career/art? How and what did you decide?
Jo– I would have to say that coming into my career/art as a dancer came about in a very surprising way. I started intensively training when I was twenty-four years old at a point in my life when some traumatic and intense changes had taken place. Prior to dancing, I had been attending school, quite honestly struggling to know what I wanted to “do.” I had decided to put a pause on my schooling and do a program abroad. During my time away, I kept finding connections with dance, but I was not in a place of seriously considering pursuing it. Midway through my program abroad, my father very suddenly died and I ended up flying home for the funeral. I returned to complete the program and I found myself in a very unstable and dark place. Amid finishing the program, I continued to find myself being nudged towards more seriously considering the pursuit of dance. I remember coming home to a very changed world; feeling very depleted from so much of what I had just experienced. I felt so hopeful and exhilarated about the prospect of diving into a dance program, yet somewhat nervous considering I had very little background and technique to bring into it. However, after auditioning and being graciously accepted into a program, I found my entire world changed again. There was no looking back once I started training and creating. It became such a healing experience for me and allowed me room to explore and grieve and grow as a human. Dance as my career and art continues to give me (and hopefully extends to others) so much life. I decided to take a chance to try something new in a space of instability. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
What’s your favourite thing to make for dinner?
Jo– I really enjoy cooking and find it a very life-giving experience. There was a time when I needed to avoid dairy products, and I found that a lot more exploration with cooking evolved around that time. I would have to say that I adore pasta. SO. MUCH. So, I enjoy making a lot of pasta dishes. I have specifically appreciated making tortellini soup lately. Stuffed pasta just makes everything better.
COLLECTED – the assemblage of found parts, that seem somewhat arbitrary, have the ability to create a new whole. So tell me about real. tell me about disappearing – they move like a phantom moan – “perhaps I should have been more like water today?” – I proceed with and without doubt – meeting and meshing to the edges – I bring my body and the mask is on – kiss me through the phone – then do it yourself – fuck clout – re: risk – name the potential losses – is there enough? gimme a holistic fuck – gimme that fake deeper – FACE RIDER
DO WHAT YOU CAN WITH THIS TIME
PEOPLE KEEP REFERRING TO BEFORE PEOPLE KEEP TALKING ABOUT AFTER
WHEN THE FUCK IS AFTER? Moving From full to empty
I’m waiting on space. Is it safe? Is it enough? Is it dance? Is dance enough right now? Deep fake – fake deep
She needs wide open spaces Room to make her big mistakes She needs new faces She knows the high stakes
You should know the score by now (you should know by now) There you are lost in the shadows, searchin’ for someone (searchin’ for someone) What you waitin’ for, no one opens the door
From Deanna Peters/Mutable Subject: What follows are some thoughts I recorded between March 27 – November 9, 2020, while creating When I look at the camera, I’m looking at you, the live online show I’m presenting November 27 at Shooting Gallery.
I’ve been writing to you, before this event, imagining you…
A few years back I saw a post from a dance artist telling choreographers to stop making dances with chairs. They declared that folx who make dances with chairs are lazy and uncreative… as chairs are always just lying around in studios and us incompetent artists who make dances with chairs just gravitate to the most obvious thing(s) in the room.
Don’t go to the computer, at the computer, get away from the computer, at the computer; make a playlist; move… I’m flailing… I need someone else to focus my explorations: House Workout – Kim Tawjoeram
I smelled mahonia aquifoliumflowers, the yellow hollering for my attention; and heard/saw eleven kinds of bird: crow, seagull, flicker, woodpecker, sparrow, robin, black cap chickadee, steller’s jay, red-winged blackbird, hummingbird and good ol’ goose.
Structure, what is it good for? Accept yourself and this becomes a container for artistic work.
time goes into me my biggest time support is songs do something, anything, for a song’s length I’ll fail, but it’ll be the beginning of something even if just a feeling
Theo Parrish for a whole year!!! I do a dance to thank my knees put a pillow on the corner of the table; to not eliminate my map snap, clap rhythms; say them according to the activity tracker, I’m not reaching my training heart rate dance until you are wet and the windows fog up
I’m a guest wherever I dance: I didn’t do Highland dancing growing up and Dancing Mennonite is an anachronism. How to be a good guest?
When I look at the camera, I’m always looking at you. Like the Mona Lisa or whatever…
Today I talked with a squirrel. First, I wanted them to get out of the raspberries. Then they stopped and stared at me. I shook a tea towel. They shook their tail back.
cut off your head flip image activity tracker: how does the camera track movement? what is moving inside our devices
To touch a camera, stay some distance away from it.
pre-set: multi multi folder open playlist open in VOX (pull player over to screen right) set speaker audio level check Zoom microphone/audio settings final + quarantine journal open in TextEdit Zoom open, set to ‘speaker view’, chat open hustle video open in QT set computer camera frame chair in closet powerbar on floor 1/8” extender untangled ipad on desk silkscreen on desk lights on make sure no crud on face
chin on chest, with top of skull facing camera, is quite odd
Practice not being present; forget where you are; do something at the same time as
I met with a squirrel again today. They came right up to the back deck and dug around in a fern pot. Did they plant something?
So many dances in this film by Maya Deren c. 1943. Hitchcock, eat me out!
“the terror of this place, home, yet not home” Paula Rabinowitz
It’s always interesting to have something between my face and yours.
1) What’s one of the most memorable (meaningful/ funny/ surprising) moments you’ve experienced while performing or creating?
A meaningful moment I experienced was when I completely changed my act on an apparatus that I had been performing and performed it for the first time. I discovered my own movements, created my own character and feeling, chose my own music instead of trying to fit in to a body type or skill set the directors had wanted me to be. Instead of feeling inadequate as a performer and dreading messing up, the new act was freeing and the result were much better.
2) Have you ever faced an intense or surprising crossroads in your career/art? How and what did you decide?
I have tried to quit many times but it was the one thing I kept on coming back to. I decided to have a go making art my career when I was basically too unhappy to do anything else and it felt like the only thing I could do at the time. So I decided to invest my time and put effort in to it. See where it can go.
3) Has art ever changed your mind about something?
I would say it probably saved my life, so there’s that.
4) If you could hang out with the ghost of any artist passed, who would it be? what would you do? what would you ask?
That’s a hard question and I am not absolutely sure.
5) Is the project starting from any specific questions?
The many times people have asked me if I can fit in to a box when they hear I am a contortionist.
6) Can you tell us about a work of art that you remember based on your emotional reaction to it? (Whether you liked it or not)
My most memorable experience was when I watched Cirque Eos when I was about 10 years old and it was the first circus show I ever seen. I didn’t get to train circus right away but I was the most amazing thing I ever saw in my life and what lead me to look in to circus and pursue it later in my life.
7) Is your work intended for a specific audience?
Not really. It’s kind of exploratory play, and meant for anyone and everyone.
8) What’s your favorite thing to make for dinner?
I can cook, but don’t love to. So a one pot noodle soup is often an easy solution. I also eat a lot of rice, definitely an influence from my Japanese heritage.
9) Do you have any hobbies?
I like being outside. The west coast is beautiful and I feel blessed to be here. I’m excited to snowboard this winter season!
4) if you could hang out with the ghost of any artist passed, who would it be? what would you do? what would you ask?
Agnès Varda. I’d like to take her out and walk with her in the desert. Towards nightfall so we don’t get too hot. I’m imagining the scenery of Paris, Texas, here: an idyllic idea of how it would look and feel to walk in that desert.I think I’d ask her what her favourites in her life were. What kind of food was her favourite to make? Her favourite song. Her favourite moment. Her favourite pet. Her favourite possession. Her favourite person.
5) is the project starting from any specific questions?
I guess there are two key questions that spurred this body of work for me. Firstly, what is etiquette? What is the proper way to deal with things? Especially when it comes to social political issues of so much complexity, and with everything hanging in the balance, everything at stake. Does it matter? I am interested in the performative aspect of etiquette. Secondly, what is a dead-end? How do we deal with them? Technically there is really only one way and that is to go backwards, retrace our steps to know where we made a wrong turn along the path. It has to be done before we can progress forwards in a new direction. These investigations are allegorical for me, and in order to contemplate them I needed to create an arena that would facilitate this recurring looping, this coming face to face with a dead-end over and over. The whole project is predicated on the use of a kind of absurd example of dead-ends. The first very literal example to come to mind for me, was the short story by Edgar Allen Poe,The Cask of Amontillado. It’s been years since I first read the story but my interest in the text came from the ending, which was about the only part of the story I could remember with any clarity. I knew that the narrator had bricked up their adversary, entombed them. A particular point of interest in this story for me is the lack of remorse, the total lack of repercussions, of guilt. The story ends on this final brutal act so we can really only imagine a future thereafter, where maybe, perhaps, they are haunted by what they have done, but we certainly don’t depart with any kind of regret having been expressed.
I am seeking collective approaches for handling roads to nowhere, and coping with an obscured vision of what lies ahead, with no distinct exit from our current reality in sight. I see dead-ends as a parallel space where we are stuck to dwell on choices which could have yielded different outcomes, circumventing our current reality. This kind of temporal / spatial environment conjures the sensation of being at a loss for potential choices, while jarringly knowing we must make a course correction.
6) can you tell us about a work of art that you remember based on your emotional reaction to it? (Whether you liked it or not)
It’s difficult to choose between the few pieces of work that have affected me in this very intense way, because while it’s only happened a handful of times each time it does it’s this “my life is forever changed by this moment” kind of thing, that allows my memory of the work to be vivid in my mind, almost immortalized for years afterward.
So, the first time I ever had a panic attack it was viewing this work Alberta,(2015 – 2016)a collaborative film by Brad Necyk and Kyle Terrance. Brad was the artist-in-residence with the Friends of the University Hospitals with Transplant Services at the time.
“I began my research talking with organ and tissue donor families. They were difficult conversations. In the first meeting a mother told me about how her husband suffered from depression and soon committed suicide. Her two children were incredibly young at the time but are now adults. Her oldest is now trying to get to know her father. Would they like the same music? The same movies? Would he like who she has become?”
It was in the Garneau Theatre (Metro Cinema) a historic building in Edmonton and a truly artistically driven non-profit, the best films I’ve seen in my life I credit to the place. It has this all-encompassing ambiance, like you are shrouded in old red velvet curtains and poised on this extravagant balcony deep, deep in proper theatre darkness. I used to live in the neighbourhood and walk therealone at night, it was the first time in my life I was going to see movies by myself and it was this lush interior experience where I would just take myself out all dolled up for these solitary dates. I would slink into the theatre just in time for showings and do my best to not be perceived by all the folks in there around me. This time, I was with some people I had classes with in my undergrad and we were seeing the film because Brad was one of our instructors.
Anyways, this film is introduced with a speaker, as a kind of precursor to the showing, and she’s speaking about her son and his decision to be an organ donor. How he’s given his body and how that was his last act. The film gets going and it’s just a very naturalistic kind of depiction of these characters, but it’s a dreamy kind of impossible reality at the same time. And there doesn’t seem to be anything special about them, or even with where the film is going expositionally so I feel like I know them in a detached sort of way. I am contemplating mortality in this small, “this could be the last time I (BLANK)” kinda way. And my breathing becomes laboured. And my vision tunnels, all the deeper for the dark space already around me.I think I am going to die. Right here in this theatre surrounded distantly by classmates I distantly know. And I hadn’t even signed my healthcare card to donate my organs and tissues, and I am doubly losing it because I know in that moment that I’ll never get the chance to. I think everyone can see my heart beating causing my body to pulsate up and down, and I swear everyone can see me escalating. Panicking. Then all at once the film is over.Everyone is drab. It’s the most mundane experience ever as we stand-up and shuffle around on the balcony platform, I can’t tell how anyone I came with felt about the film. I guard my face with my hands and look at the ground shiftily and one of my peers asks me “what did you think?” And I can’t really say, I can’t pin itdown, so I don’t. I ramble some kind of platitude.
This is probably where I would locate my interest in portraying the urgency of time and mortality, as well as the recurring endless loop of it all. As everything came to an end on screen, life just picked up again as the lights flicked on dimly.
Next, in order of sequence not importance, I was visiting my best friend in LA in October of 2019, she had just moved there to be with her partner who was leaving town as I arrived. He didn’t want her to be alone so soon after moving there, in this new place, and had flown me in to surprise her. We ended up going to the Broad. Showing was Shirin Neshat’s I Will Greet the Sun Again, and it had very recently opened. I was vaguely aware of her work, but not nearly enough. This is the largest exhibition to date of her approximately 30-year career. I could never describe this exhibition, Neshat’s work, in a way that would do it justice, so I will just settle for my perception of it, a ghostly impression and admiration. It is simply profound — especially her video pieces. I fell in love with every instalment as I wandered my way through prolific installations of photographs, videos, and objects in-between. Each room spanning so many moments, so many years, so much life, so many lives. I feel that our own personal, individual way of relating to work, even when the subject, the event, the concepts at hand, have nothing to do with us, which often they do not, is a useful measuring stick. Our own emotions relative to the work, using ourselves as a conduit for understanding and relating, creates this deep felt resonance which is one of the most important ways we can attempt to understand each other. Not in a way that is about us, or sympathetic, but more like empathetic to that experience someone outside of us felt, lived. I was most affected by Roja (2016). Roja follows an Iranian woman’s attempts to connect with American culture, inspired by Neshat’s own visions and memories. There is a sequence in the first portion of the film where Shirin is placed within a predominately white aging audience and the performer, an approximately middle-aged white man, shirtless, bare and exposed in this way, tearfully sings“the carnival is over” in this deep resonating sadness, drawing the same tearful reaction from each audience member panning over the crowd, including Shirin. Arguably she looks the most affected and I get the sensation that the performer is singing specifically to her. The song concludes and the performer transitions to speaking in a more and more accusatory tone, and then angrily, yelling, once again in a way that feels directed at Shirin. It feels personal. She gets visibly uncomfortable as the audience members around her seem unaffected, passive, calm. In the auditorium of the exhibition I feel I echo her, distraught by this man’s aggression, his very personal hatred. As he yells “I think you should come up onto the stage. You need to be seen. What’s the matter? Hmmm. Are you shy? I don’t understand what you’re doing out there hiding. I think you should come on up here and tell your pretty lies to everyone where they can see you. Because in this story, now, you’re going to be revealed.” I get the sensation that I, too, am being summoned.
The second half of the film has Shirin run out of the theatre, away from the performance, and the museum. Into a mud caked dessert, she runs through these thick basins, cracking apart into small tectonic-looking plates, until she summits one of the basins and comes to see a figure in the distance. I see this figure maternally: her mother. As they reach each other her face is distorted. The scenery is distorted, everything is coated in a magical realism, and she isa part of the ripples in a pool of water. Her face is monstrous in this rippled apart way. Comical also, like a cheesy phone filter. Her voice drones out the same words of the performer, spoken back inside. She keeps this up until she thrusts her arms forwards in what could be an embrace but isn’t. She pushes Shirin back, disavowing her. Estranging her in a way. I cannot ever know what the artist is feeling in any of this, the deep personal signifiers in this piece and this show in entirety. I do, in my own way, know the fear of worrying about being cast out by those who love me. Having them find out that I am a fraud. How all of these feelings might come to me in a distorted dream, in a way that is unreal, but upon waking the seed of the truth of fear is growing inside me.
8) what’s your favourite thing to make for dinner?
I absolutely love to make home-cooked pizza. Every single pie comes out a little bit different than the last. I am thinking about starting a pizza blog. Keep your eyes peeled.
Why do I as a straight cis-gendered male feel the need to placate towards the gender norm set by western society? What does it mean to deter from that? What does it mean to be ok with steering off from the norm… These are the questions swirling through my brain as I try to comprehend what these norms are. What do they mean for us and our youth? How does it affect them, how does it confine them and their gender expression? Why is it that blue is meant for boys and pink is meant for girls? How do these minuscule these relate and lead to bigger issues like toxic masculinity and self-conflict and questioning? What would life be like if we were freed from these norms, these confinements set for us? Why these questions sprung was because I was starting to accept that my gender expression was different than the one set for cis-gendered males. Since I was getting more out of the norm than I already have, I have been realizing how much more people seem to care and there seems to be a fine line before people start getting uncomfortable. Where is this fine line and how do we break it?
WHO IS THIS PROJECT MEANT FOR
My work or specifically this piece is meant for the ones who the norms benefit. To make them question, rethink, reevaluate… This piece is meant for the ones who are affected by gender norms for them to feel connected, spoken about and represented. It’s meant for everyone no matter their opinion on the subjects I talk about my work isn’t to change people’s opinions rather give a space for people to think about the subject.
Hello! My name is Fleurie Hunter. My mother’s family is from Western Ukraine and my father’s family is from Ireland, and my great-grandparents on both sides travelled to Canada in the early 1900s and settled as farmers in the prairies. I grew up on Treaty 1 territory, which is the homeland of the Anishinaabee, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota, Dene, and Métis peoples. I’ve been living as an uninvited guest on the unceded and occupied territory of the Coast Salish peoples for over fifteen years, including of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil Waututh Nations. I am currently a student in University of Victoria’s joint degree in Canadian Common Law & Indigenous Legal Orders, and I also work in community healthcare in Vancouver.
My art-making practice is about learning and interrogating spaces, narratives, sensations, and emotions that are confusing or sticky for me, especially in the pursuit of social/ecological justice and co-liberation. So far, I mostly work with performance, for which I draw on the approach of Peter Morin–to enact what emerges from my embodied self in this space and time–using somatic/movement practices, sound, video, objects, and text. I hope with my SGPS project ‘Land Acknowledgement’ to move more towards co-creation, by inviting collaborators and shared experience into the work. If you’re interested in finding out more and/or experiencing my project, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org!
A [Living, Incomplete] Statement on Methodology + Form(at)
Sometimes it is important to make a statement
Sometimes it is important to stop talking
Listen (Robinson, Oliveros, Cahill et al., Young Leon & Nadeau, Voéglin)
Attribution matters (B. Brown)
Situate yourself (Young Leon + Nadeau, Robinson, Morales) and your knowledge (Haraway) – historically, politically (Robinson), epistemologically (Morales)
Find out and follow the laws, processes and ways of being in relationship with all your relations, the land, and knowledge, on the territory on which you are operating on (Morales)
Tell your story in your own language (Morales)
Tell your story without being the protagonist (Sinopoulos-Lloyd in Brown & Brown)
Continually invite in, actively and intentionally co-create, release control
Stories don’t always follow the path you think they should (Clifford)
Understand stories as bones, and care for them accordingly (Livernoche)
Seek to ‘write with’ not ‘write about’ (Robinson)
Write stories OF the land not ON the land (Basso in Morales; Voéglin)
Follow impulses – write – follow impulses – write
Write – follow impulses – write – follow impulses
Interrogate colonizing the electromagnetic field (Smolicki)
Try not to appropriate—i.e. attempt to represent the Other, speak for the Other, or “represent their trauma” (Hopkins)
Explore the Interface – the liminal space between Self and desire (Kingwell) – the space of encounter (Robinson) – the crossroads (Akomolafe) – the contact zone (Haraway in Young)
Occupy the place of “what we are becoming” (Akomolafe), and is not yet but can be (Haraway in Young)
Resist assimilating, integrating, mixing, including (Robinson); question how and whether to digest (Robinson)
Be aware and intentional about performing, being witnessed, witnessing, being an audience, viewing, watching, listening and/or being somewhere in between and why
Strive FOR expansion, refraction, generative-ness, speculative fabulation-play-imagination-co-creation (Haraway in Young), pleasure (Brown, A.)
Strive AGAINST reductiveness, dualisms (Haraway), conclusions, fixity (Robinson)
Show up (Haraway in Young)
Grief is Activism (Akomolafe)
Look for patterns, return, re-cycle, reflexiveness (Hernandes, Borrows, Morales)
Continue moving, step forwards-backwards-sideways, reverse, turn, throw, drop, pick-up, shake, quake, grab, resist, rotate, negate gravity, activate your skin, feel your skin as delicate and sensitive, sense the qualities of the air on your skin, sense everything beneath your skin as alive, softly grab your skeleton with your flesh, softly grab your flesh with your skeleton, feel your weight shifting in space, create texture, indulge in your sensuality, pleasure, silliness, indulge in your sense of more than enough time, feel movement wave through your spine, feel yourself being moved from your periphery, feel yourself being moved from your core, create friction, massage the floor with your feet, massage your feet with the floor, active your muscles, connect effort with pleasure, activating forces in your body in other directions but down (Gaga)
Young Leon, A., & Nadeau, D. (2018). Embodying Indigenous Resurgence: “All Our Relations” Pedagogy. In 1012283491 779066799 Y. R. Wong & 1012283492 779066799 S. Batacharya (Eds.), Sharing breath: Embodied learning and decolonizationÂ (pp. 55-82). Edmonton, AB: AU Press.