An interview with New York - based butoh artist Vangeline
on creative practice, embodied transformation and the dance of light and darkness
by Anna Seva
(Image by Geoff Shelton)
What is your creative process like? How do you begin a new piece and where do you draw inspiration for your work?
Describing the creative process is very challenging as each piece begins differently. Often a specific image, such as a painting or a piece of music, initiates the process. "Fifth Amendment" with Azumi Oe, for example, was inspired by a painting of a FrenchPolish painter called Balthus. The concept of "paintings coming to life" is very important in my work and this particular painting provided a point of departure for the piece. Often a song will play over and over again in my mind and this time Bob Dylan's "Blowing In The Wind" made itself known in a very insistent manner. I found out afterwards that the song had been written in 1963 when reading the Fifth Amendment rights, including the right to remain silent, became a law in the event of an arrest.
Inspiration often works in this way with many moments of synchronicity.
Classical art is a great source of inspiration to me and I think that works of art created today are richer and more layered when we draw inspiration from artists from the past. I often feel that there is a lack of humility in this modern age. Technology creates a sense of entitlement, hubris and denial of our place in the world.
We are inevitably linked to the past and indebted to those who came before us. If we are honest with ourselves, we will acknowledge that, as human beings, we are a kaleidoscope of influences and the recipients of multifaceted heritages both cultural and historical, for better or for worse. Artists merely make the commitment to organize this heritage through the prism of their own individuality, creativity and, most importantly, the craft of their choice. As a butoh artist I am greatly indebted to my teachers and the butoh lineage.
I would say that the central theme most vital to my work is the acknowledgment of Spirit. I feel that butoh is a bridge to the realm of Spirit and the departed. Creating and performing butoh work is akin to standing on the edge of a precipice - jumping off with eyes closed and asking for the Spirit to jump in with us.
("The Week With Four Thursdays" by Balthus, 1949)
Your body is your instrument of work. What is your personal practice like?
I dance and train every day of the week, primarily in ballet. Ballet is a wonderful foundation for butoh and, as a matter of fact, most Japanese butoh dancers were first trained in ballet and contemporary dance.
How would you describe your work of teaching and facilitating butoh classes and workshops?
Teaching, for me, is being of service of the personal and collective transformation of others. We can choose to teach, but we also have to be chosen.
Your latest piece "Wake Up and Smell the Coffee" takes a stand for sustainability and waste prevention. What is your relationship like to nature?
I grew up in a very rural part of France, surrounded by nature. I believe our formative years affect the rest of our lives and I carry this intimate, mystical relationship to nature in my work. Whether we grew up in nature or not, we have all been thoroughly socialized and this work offers a space to be in profound touch with ourselves beyond our conditioned bodies and minds. Whether we live in the city or in rural areas, we are each part of the society with its human structures, layers, hierarchies and rules of engagement. Butoh gives us the chance to recover hidden "charges" that have been dulled or dimmed by living in society, thus supporting us in becoming more whole and therefore more powerful and creative beings.
Our last production, "Wake Up and Smell the Coffee”, was certainly a cautionary tale. To me, engaging in the practice of butoh means that we regain a certain humility regarding our place in the universe. We are intrinsically part of the cosmos and made of the same particles that it's created from. Remembering and activating the power of this within our own bodies is one of the aspects of butoh work. When we do this we organically recover a path toward sustainability for all of life. Life can become magical.
How did you originally discover the practice of Butoh?
I first saw a Sankai Juku performance 16 years ago at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. The experience was life changing for me and has led me to the path that I am on today.
What is the role of music, costumes and lights in your productions?
Music, costumes and lighting are an integral part of a theatrical presentation. In the end, we present and place our work in the context of live theater and all the separate elements are crucial to the whole of telling the story.
I take great care in selecting the right costumes for a piece. In Fifth of Butoh Azumi's costume is a vintage French gown from 1890 that took two months of searching to find. 1890 is the year that Tchaikovsky's "Sleeping Beauty" premiered in St. Petersburg, Russia.
The beginning image of Azumi reclined and "asleep" in a chair symbolizes the awakening of consciousness from slumber. In the piece Azumi has to awaken and become deeply engaged within herself to find her path to freedom. The period costume is instrumental in helping the audience step out of the modern age. It also reminds us that we are links in a chain of human history and that our ancestors went through the same struggles we do, and that joy and pain are universal.
For my part the great New York designer Todd Thomas created a costume inspired by the attire Tatsumi Hijikata wore in his piece Revolt Of The Body in 1968. Todd started with the idea of making a costume entirely out of shirt sleeves, which kept the feminine shape of Hijikata's original attire, but was masculine enough for the character of the conductor I embody.
(Design sketch by Todd Thomas, Image of Hijikata by Unknown)
Shoshana's sparkly dark gown evokes the image of a river of black diamonds, constantly shifting like reflections on the water. She emerges from this reflective darkness to grow slowly into the light, like a flower blooming in the night. This is of course an interesting parallel to the transformational process of butoh.
The research for the music in the show was equally extensive and thorough. Building the music for my part alone took four months. My collaborator Geoff Shelton and I listened to countless hours of music until we found what worked specifically for the piece. People often think that the sound in the last section was created with airplanes but it's actually the Fifth Symphony slowed down to an extreme.
Practicing and witnessing butoh can warp our sense of time and it is only fitting that slowing down a piece of music completely changes our engagement with it. Perhaps this is one of the main gifts butoh has to offer us the invitation to change our usual speed of being, which allows us to shift our perceptions, enter a different dimension and experience ourselves and the world in a new way.
Butoh is often described as the "dance of darkness". How do you perceive the role the practice can serve for individual and collective change, healing and transformation? What makes butoh so powerful?
Butoh serves as a mirror both for the practitioner and the audience. We can work and hone our craft so that the mirror stays polished and reflects as clearly as possible. What we see in the mirror and what we do with the reflection is up to us.
In the lineage that I come from, the practice of butoh implies a process of courageously confronting the self and taking ownership of what we unearth. Excavating the shadow is for the purpose of responsibly stepping towards the light and gently uncovering hidden parts of our psyche. Light and darkness are searching for each other and this becomes a dance unto itself.
This intricate and vulnerable dance has been a part of us since the beginning of time. We can't deny that both light and darkness are always part of our experience. Night always arrives after the day, sleep engulfs us every night and death is waiting for us in the end of our lives.
The power of butoh comes directly from these undeniable truths that we carry within our bodies, including the inevitability of death. Butoh can serve as a great tool for transformation during our lives. As we symbolically confront our own death every time we step on stage, we can begin to shed layers of fears that prevent us from being fully alive. For a brief moment, we can be one with Spirit, our true nature, beyond the illusions of our human existence.
We are excited to have you back in San Francisco performing Fifth of Butoh and teaching a three day workshop in October. What is on the horizon for Vangeline Theater?
2016 will bring a residency at the Princeton University, as well as a process of collaborating with neuroscientist Suzanne Dikker to map out brain activity of butoh dancers. And, of course, more international touring, teaching, and, very important to me, the 10th anniversary of the "Dream A Dream Project, Dance Workshop For Incarcerated Men and Women". I continue my work with this project, teaching butoh at New York correctional facilities, with the support of New York Council on the Arts and the New York Department of Cultural Affairs.
(Image by Giuseppe Cerone)
Fifth of Butoh on October 23 & 24, 2015, at 8 pm. NOHspace, 2840 Mariposa St, San Francisco, CA 94110. For reservations: http://5thofbutohsf.brownpapertickets.com