Let us eat cake, consensually, that is: A Reflection on TALK.DANCE.CAKE

By Bhumi B. Patel

Contributor Note: In order to honor and be respectful of folks who are participating, I am intentionally not speaking about any participants by name and am not including any images from the event.

It’s impossible to write as an objective witness to an event because I come in with my own ideas, notions, experiences, and ideals. So instead of steam-rolling forward in the way of a mediocre white man, assuming that my position is the universal position, I’m going to take a moment to position myself: I am a queer, millenial, child of Indian immigrants, who happens to also be a performer and choreographer in the Bay Area. I have participated in contact improvisation in a moderate way since my early 20s, and so, I have a stake in this. 

And as humans with bodies, so do we all.

For as long as contact improvisation has existed, we have seen and heard and known about issues of non-consensual touch, sexual harassment, and predatory behavior in jam culture. A year and a half ago, with the forward motion of the #metoo movement, we saw folks in our contact improvisation communities coming forward with their stories. And never has it been more relevant, more salient, more pertinent to continue this conversation.

On the evening of Sunday, January 19, as we gathered together in a circle at ODC, I felt a certain tension, a buzzing contradiction of feelings in the room. I tried to settle into this and allow it to be. This evening was an offering from Jo Kreiter, Nhu Nguyen, and Devin Pastika, supported by FRESH Festival, Flyaway Productions, and ODC, for women-identified and queer, trans, and non-binary folks to process and unpack contact improvisation (also called CI) culture. In this circle, we were asked why we had arrived at this gathering and where we are with CI. As I listened and watched each person in the room introduce themself, I began to uncover the tension in the room.

There is desire for change from marginalized folks in CI. Folks who have been practicing CI for a long time want to support younger generations coming into the practice in a way that is safe and nourishing. We’re all craving a sense of camaraderie to combat discomfort created by those in power in CI spaces. We need an accessible toolbox of ways to create accountability and empowerment in CI and a shift in the culture toward self-awareness, mindfulness, and intentionality. We all want to bring the liberatory intention from the origins of CI back while uncovering the inequity, white supremacy, and patriarchy that has been buried in the practice.

More than one person shared that they had come because they wanted to keep their practice and study of improvisation and that as marginalized voices in the community we must refuse to get pushed out. Most shared that they had come to find community through shared experience in order to cultivate change together. 

Folks in our big introductory circle were welcomed to create a second, inner circle, to further and more deeply discuss things that were brought up by introductions. Each inner circle would have 8 minutes and then a call for a reset would be issued: everyone would leave the inner circle, have a breath in the bigger circle, and then repeat the inner circle process.

I was simultaneously surprised and unphased by what was brought up in the inner circle. First, that many are struggling with an internal tension between feeling defensive of the jam (because it does feel liberatory) and understanding that it doesn’t exist in that way for everyone and that as a community we need to change. 

But then questions arose. Folks were asking questions like, “What happens in the situations that are uncomfortable? What actually plays out?” and an urge for marginalized folks in the room to practice saying no when appropriate. It was questioned why so many folks use the word “attack,” and suggested that that sort of language prevents folks who are new to CI from wanting to participate. 

Of course, words matter, and of course, it is important to be clear, but to me, this sort of questioning feels like an invalidation of the harm caused by harassment and predatory behavior in CI. I appreciated the calling into the room that so much of the labor of being sensitive is put onto people who have been traumatized, sexually harassed, attacked, and victimized when we are the very same people who have endless experience of walking into a room and being sensitive to the space to know how to best protect ourselves. How do we put pressure on our allies to gather and have conversations like this one to become better people? 

From the inner circle discussions, the room shifted into a jam. For those without experience in Contact Improvisation, a jam is usually an open gathering to practice, normally unfacilitated, with a shared curiosity to investigate making contact with other movers in the room. I moved myself to the side of the room to take in the space, to listen, and to be available to what this group of people wanted and needed.

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a jam from the outside like this, and it’s an interesting experience to see folks transition from being inside of their bodies, thinking and feeling a lot really heavily, into seeing how folks connect. In this room, there is a certain gentleness, lightness, humor that I haven’t had the opportunity to see in a contact space before. For me, walking into a contact space has always sparked an internal tension and hypervigilance, but seeing this shift is incredibly moving. 

A dancer asks “Would anyone like to be in contact with me?” A dancer asks “What works better for you?” while shifting into weight-bearing contact with another dancer. These moments exemplify both the importance of the use of voice in the space and a reaffirmation that in CI we can co-create and we can dismantle power structures.

As I continued to observe, occasionally stand to stretch and move a little myself, and stay available, I began to think about how we often talk about dismantling power structures with the term “decolonization” (which I heard more than once during the evening). Because of the popularity of the term, I think it’s worth unpacking for a moment. 

When I talk about decolonization in this instance, I am talking about three goals in particular:

Access

Liberation

Collective safety

So when I look to decolonizing CI, what I mean is:

Every person has access to the space (physically, emotionally, etc)

All people are welcome and encouraged to participate as who they are in that moment (with the understanding that if you are a shitty person in that moment, take a second and get yourself together because the third one is…)

We are all here to create a safe environment for everyone involved. We are all here to co-create this decolonized space where our primary, unified goal is to create a safe space. 

I genuinely believe in the power of community organizing and the importance of moving together to create change. We can work together to decolonize CI.

I’ll add this: I wish there had been more people of color in the room. I wish for that in most dance spaces that I am in where the course of study is within the lineage of modern/post-modern/contemporary dance. We need to continue to deepen the conversation about power in CI as it relates to race. We can do it, but that requires that our allies (yes that’s you, cis, het, white men) also participate in having these difficult conversations. Solidarity requires motion, mobilization, intention.

So I put this call out to you, dear allies, find one another, and do the work of antiracism and dismantling the power that you hold in CI spaces to be a better participant, and frankly, a better human.

For all who were able to be in the room, I am grateful for you. I am looking toward when we get to meet again. 

 

Bhumi B. Patel is a queer, desi artist/activist creating multidisciplinary dancetheater with an intersectional feminist lens to unpack her inner landscape where she is brown, queer, working class, and a woman. As a dancer, choreographer, curator, educator, writer, and historian, she works from a trauma informed, social justice oriented perspective. Patel teaches at West Valley College, Lone Mountain Children’s Center, and Shawl-Anderson Dance Center. Patel’s work has been presented at SAFEhouse Arts, LEVYsalon, Shawl-Anderson Salon, max10, Summer Performance Festival, RAWdance's Concept Series, and the Queering Dance Festival. Patel has curated “fem(me)” since 2017 and has been published in the San Francisco Chronicle and Life as a Modern Dancer.