Thomas DeFrantz 2018 Black Dance
Thomas DeFrantz 2018 Black Dance
Thomas DeFrantz 2018 Black Dance
THOMAS F. DEFRANTZ
What are the terms of dance that allow for the emergence of Black dance? How are identity
and culture implicated in the articulation of genres of dance? How is it that televisual dance –
music video dance – inevitably seems to refer to Black dance and its aesthetic values?
What are the foundational modes of gesture, rhythm, musicality and social relationship that
produce Black dance? This chapter considers the formation of Black dance as a critical
category created by dancers, and the terms of address that produce that same category
among researchers and critics. An assessment of historical becomings of Black dance
allows us to think through the different sorts of access that insiders and outsiders have
to its contents. The chapter will consider examples of dance to suggest divergent, but
related, forms of Black dance: theatrical and social. The terms of a ‘doing’ for Black dance
as resistant demonstration and embodied aesthetic protest will be discussed through the
examples. We will also consider cultural appropriation as an urgent mode of analysis relevant
to the construction of Black performance theory and Black dance.
What’s at Stake?
Again and again, we notice that performers who claim relationship to an African diaspora
dance differently than others. There may be more of a sense of rhythmic attack; a stronger
sense of release in the lower back and the hips. There may be a willingness to kick higher or
bounce lower throughout a movement sequence. There may seem to be something ‘extra’
in the execution of the phrases; some sort of authoritative panache that makes the dancing
seem to be of the dancer herself, right now, in immediate gestural relief.
But how can we attribute an approach to performance to a group bound by ethnicity or
even race? To do this, we will have to engage the possibilities of a strategic essentialism, one
that will allow us to make claims for Black dance and Black people. We must remain aware
of the limitations of essentialisms here. But we must also be willing to explore techniques that
might hold together performances born of African diasporic approaches to creative practice.
So, let’s pursue, together, this mode of performative address that we call Black dance.
At stake in Black performance and Black dance are possibilities for group communion
and a group articulation of aesthetic and social priorities. Black performance brings into
being the possibility of Black people making and doing: creating intentional gestures in order
to register, distinctively, as Black people. In this definition, Black performance circles back
to its emergence as something created for the purpose of expressing itself aesthetically and
socially. Black performance exists to confirm the presence of Black people in the world.
Electric Slide at Obama Inauguration, YouTube video, January 2009. A loose crowd
among a large crowd on the Mall in Washington DC. People are wrapped up in blankets,
winter coats, heads covered against the drizzling cold. A recording of Stevie Wonder and
Usher – two important figures in African American R&B who represent inter-generational
affiliation – bleeds into the air. The duo sings ‘Higher Ground’, a song by Wonder about
finding the way towards something better. The YouTube video begins in medias res with
a few dancers in motion, but quickly twenty dancers are visible. To perform the dance:
they move to the right for four counts, to the left for four, to the back for four, lean down
towards the ground with their left shoulders in the front, then rebound back away towards
the right. A two-count quarter-turn to face a different front. Others join in quickly, dancing
in celebration and against the cold. They carry their bags – purses, knapsacks and
book bags; they dance to explore the formation; the uneven, eighteen-count rhythmic
structure; and to share energy in a common physical text enlivened by their individuality.
Several videos of the inauguration event reveal the Slide as an embodied touchstone
of connection, gathering dancers of many ages, ethnicities, gender presentations and
abilities to share their creative address to its contents. (See ‘Further Reading’.)
The Electric Slide follows many other line dances that served similar creative functions for
African Americans: allowing for joyful rhythmic expression and self-actualization through
dance. To better understand what the Electric Slide does as a Black dance, we return
to a social context for Black life. If our context for understanding Black life stems from its
general disavowal, within the political structures of slavery, the practises of social dance
that encourage individual expression within a group dynamic become obvious barometers
of enlivened social lives. Dancing the Electric Slide alongside others who identify as Black
creates a possibility of communion, a sharing of social gesture and creative expression.
Dancing elaborates social possibility for the group, opening outward from a moving-together-
in-motion towards the possibility of an expressive self, embedded within a mobilized group.
Of course, the Electric Slide is also enjoyed by participants of many social identifiers; it is not
contained exclusively as a Black social dance. In this, the form demonstrates a useful social
productivity stemming from Black cultural expression. That the dance enjoyed by Black
people could be enjoyed by others allows for a social mobility among Black culture; this feeds
back into a pleasurable function within the dance itself as an emblem of shareable creativity.
Theatrical dance forms raise questions of watching and judging; evaluation and scrutiny
within the practice of an audience’s search for inspiration or meaning. These modes of
address arrive with complex tensions for Black people. The afterlives of slavery suggest that
Black people being scrutinized by others for their physical form and for their value as agents
of work will be bound up in the complex histories of global capital and the disavowal of
Black humanity. This historical background persists well into the twenty-first century. Often,
performances by Black artists on stages are viewed by audiences as exotica rather than as
valid creative expression.
Still, theatrical dance allows for repeated engagement with principles of Black dance.
Choreographer Donald Byrd, artistic director of the Spectrum Dance Company of Seattle,
has made dozens of works that explicitly engage aesthetic suppositions of Black dance.
Byrd, who claims African American ancestry and choreographs through a studied respect
for principles of African diaspora art making, created Short Dances/Little Stories in 2003 to
music by Southern pop-rap musical artist Mystikal.
Short Dances engages the gestural attributes of Black dance referred to earlier: weighted
movements that push through the stage floor; angular flexion of limbs in unexpected
orderings; a propulsive and playful manipulation of rhythmic accents in phrasing that
confidently stresses the dynamics of the musical accompaniment. As is often true in Byrd’s
choreography, the performers here are encouraged to bend the movement beyond its
obvious physical and rhythmic ends, at times: pushing an extended limb past expectations,
or holding a difficult balance longer, and with more obvious risk, than might seem necessary.
These extensions of phrasing and stance confirm a Black aesthetic approach to timing,
weight, phrasing and capacity; they bring forward the sensibility of dynamic resistance as a
mode of theatrical address.
Theatrical dance offers more semiotic information to a viewer that can be discussed and
interpreted from a distance. An audience, gathered to witness the event of the performance,
can gain all sorts of clues to help determine value and meaning from the evidence on stage.
In the case of Short Dances, we note the simple chic, form-fitting black costumes that
accentuate the musculature of the dancers. Outfitted like superheroes, the costuming
encourages us to notice every tensioned pulling of muscle as well as the extraordinary
fitness of the dancers performing the work. Theatrical lighting reveals areas of bright intensity
and darkness, creating shadows that allow dancers to seemingly appear and recede at will.
The dancers jump and land with an otherworldly sort of authority, commanding sections of
the stage through their presence in blistering pools of light. A scenic element of a wall in the
background covered in abstract graffiti art sets the work in an unquestionably urban centre;
a part of a city where young residents took matters of community decoration into their own
hands to create visions of a world beyond the one at hand. (This scenic element changed in
several performances of the work, at times painted during the performance by collaborating
visual artists, and at other times simply revealed as a backdrop to the stage action.)
While setting, lighting and costumes tend to support the unified vision of a stage event,
music and movement offer their own shifting paradigms of information for the audience to
consider. The musical score here, by Mystikal, rides through New Orleans hip hop sound,
a sort of bouncing dance music built around distinctive sample materials that stutter and
hesitate even as they cohere to a steady, duple-metre beat. Mystikal’s voice conjures an
old-fashioned, country preacher masculinity. He leans into a gruff, hardened animated growl
for most of his ‘hooks’ – the refrains of different songs used to accompany this particular
dance. His rapping, though, vacillates between quick, rhythmically playful passages
and slower, gravelly assertions. Like many rap artists, Mystikal works with a chorus of
background singers and ‘hype men’; voices included in the recording who encourage the
leading artist and offer preferred responses to the song as it unfolds. Generally, Mystikal
strikes an assertive, aggressive sound of exhortation as he rhymes, claiming the sonic space
that his music encounters unapologetically, as his own domain.
A woman roots herself into the stage, legs wide apart, partially concealed by shadows
bouncing off her all-black dance costume. Her feet are bare, and they grip the black
stage floor with a palpable intensity. She gestures in a mysterious sequence of roiling
Short Dances emerges as Black dance because of its setting, musical score and the
harsh attack of the dancing performed by Byrd’s collaborators of the Seattle-based
Spectrum Dance Company. Surprisingly, none of the dancers in the performance claimed
a singular Black identity. The performers are mostly white, with one or two-mixed race
artists. Donald Byrd does claim Black identity in the world, of course, and he coaches
his collaborators towards a take-no-prisoners, fierce attitude that reads to audiences as
Black affect. This affect allows the audiences of Short Dances to recognize its intentions as
Black dance. The dance engages a nearly indecipherable assemblage of movement ideas,
performed at the absolute ends of their possibility. In pushing the dancers to perform at their
expressive extremes, the work demands that the dancers physicalize and embody the sorts
of burning impossibilities that surround Black social life. Joy, desperation, anguish and hard-
edged aggressions pepper the work and its performance.
Also, surprisingly, the movement vocabulary for Short Dances derives largely from ballet
and contemporary modern dance exercises. But in this context, with this mise en scène of
scenery, with the music of Mystikal, and with the physical attack of these performances, the
dance movements arrive as sharp as knives and as potent as the outrage of civil uprisings
or social protest.
The fact that Byrd creates Black dance without Black people dancing on stage speaks
to a possibility of affect that might be contained by Black dance as a craft and approach to
performance. This possibility is crucial to our understanding of Black dance as a process
in and of itself, a mode of performance that might be engaged by many, but speaks from
and towards a particular sensibility. The sensibility of Black dance as a creative liveliness in
relationship to Black social death becomes a standard for understanding the undeniable
attractiveness of Black dance. Many people want to dance in this way, because the dancing
clearly speaks to possibilities of humanity that are difficult to imagine.
Performance Details
Short Dances/Little Stories, choreographed by Donald Byrd, was first presented at Spectrum
Dance Theater, Seattle, WA, in October 2003. The music from the dance was drawn from
Tarantula by Mystikal, Jive Records, 2001; Ghetto Fabulous by Mystikal, No Limit Records,
1998; and Let’s Get Ready by Mystikal, Jive Records, 2000.
Further Reading
For a discussion of nomenclature, and distinctions among African American dance and
Black dance, see my essay, ‘African American Dance: A Complex History’ in Thomas F.
DeFrantz (2002: 2–35). For videos of the Electric Slide at the Obama Inauguration see
Electric Slide (2009). For more on Marlon Riggs’s work, including classroom resources,
articles, interviews and clips of Tongues Untied, see the Marlon Riggs Critical Resource
Page at California Newsreel (online). For a recent scholarly overview of Katherine Dunham’s
achievement see Das (2017). Dunham published several studies of dance and memoirs, see
Dunham (1946, 1959, 1969 and 1983) and Clark and Johnson (2006). For further reading
on issues discussed in this chapter, see DeFrantz and Willis (2016), Gottschild (2003) and
DeFrantz and Gonzalez (2014).
References
Clark, VèVè A., and Sara E. Johnson, eds (2006), Kaiso! Writings by and about Katherine
Dunham, Madison and London: University of Wisconsin Press.
Das, Joanna Dee (2017), Katherine Dunham: Dance and the African Diaspora, Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
DeFrantz, Thomas F., ed. (2002) Dancing Many Drums: Excavations in African American
Dance, Madison and London: University of Wisconsin Press.
DeFrantz, Thomas F., and Anita Gonzalez, eds (2014), Black Performance Theory: An
Anthology of Critical Resources, Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
DeFrantz, Thomas F., and Tara Aisha Willis, eds (2016), ‘Black Moves: New Research in
Black Dance Studies’, a special issue of The Black Scholar, 46 (1).
Dunham, Katherine (1946), Journey to Accompong, New York: H. Holt and Company.
Re-issued in 2013 as Katherine Dunham’s Journey to Accompong, Literary
Licensing, LLC.
Dunham, Katherine (1959), A Touch of Innocence, New York: Harcourt. Reissued 1994 as
A Touch of Innocence: Memoirs of Childhood, Chicago: Chicago University Press.
Dunham, Katherine ([1947] 1983), Dances of Haiti, Los Angeles: Center for Afro-American
Studies, UCLA.
Dunham, Katherine ([1969] 1994), Island Possessed, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.