Chapter 4
Resonance
Resonance marks the fourth and final chapter of Coming Out of Chaos: A Vancouver Dance Story. It turns to focus on the recent past and the present to discuss the significant changes the Vancouver dance community has experienced over the last thirty years since Coming Out of Chaos first premiered in 1982. More specifically, this chapter talks about the emergence of dance festivals, independent practitioners, shifting funding models, dance writing, and archives, as well as current themes and challenges contemporary dance artists are faced with today.
Chaos Today
2022 marks forty years since Coming Out of Chaos was created. Since then, the contemporary dance scene in Vancouver has shifted and evolved; shaped by notable events and artists from the past whose influence continues to resonate, while also being reinvigorated by new, innovative, and perseverant dance practitioners. The interviewees in this chapter include contemporary dance artists Amber Funk Barton, Josh Martin, and Darcy McMurray, as well as dance critics, historians, and scholars Peter Dickinson, Max Wyman, and Kaija Pepper. Together, they all shed light on the present moment of dance in Vancouver and discuss the ways in which it honours, emulates, and recalls the past, while simultaneously carving out its own unique place in the story of Vancouver dance history.
A Vancouver Dance Ethos?
It has often been said that contemporary dance in Vancouver can be characterized by both its tendency to draw inspiration from the natural landscape and its geographical isolation, both of which have enabled artists to create without external influences and develop a unique West Coast dance ethos. While many of the interviews and much of the research shared in this project suggest both supportive and opposing beliefs to this, what is certain is that there has always been a strong draw to Vancouver as a creative hub for artists to carve out their own distinct paths and identities.
“Somehow, we always think that those stories are elsewhere, or we think that the latest arrival is the story. Those are part of the story, but our history going back is fascinating too. We won't ever really value that until we start promoting it the way the Americans do. [...] it's also part of the Vancouver syndrome, of always thinking the story is elsewhere, and always being so interested and respectful of the stories from elsewhere, that we don't stand up for our own stories, and our own artists.” - Kaija Pepper
When asked to define the ethos of contemporary dance in Vancouver today, it was difficult for contemporary dancers to discern a single, unifying aesthetic. Instead, current dance artists acknowledge a common impulse to openly explore and experiment in order to forge new, interdisciplinary styles. They also note how exploration and experimentation take place not only independently, but also through collaboration; thus allowing for more blended and diverse forms of dance and artistry to emerge.
“I think that Vancouver's has had an amazing progression into collaborative work, and this has informed the contemporary scene strongly in the last few decades. It's been incredible to see the dance scene take a broader scope through focusing on collaboration. [...] Part of me wondered if the dance scene was falling flat a bit for a while. It seemed like dancers were watching dancers, and that there wasn't anyone else coming to the shows. The shift into more collaborative works seemed a natural progression of where the future of dance was going, as well as a need to send the tendrils further than they had been reaching. The dance scene was kind of a closed, tight-knit community. So the shift seemed to broaden the scope of who might come to shows, and who might be interested in watching dance in general. I think these issues came to a head and it forced the scene to broaden, and in turn, enriched the contemporary dance scene.” - Darcy McMurray
Amber Funk Barton also highlights an emerging DIY spirit and tenacity of current dance practitioners in the city, and how those qualities have lent themselves to setting Vancouver apart from the rest of Canada:
While place-specific dance-making is one facet of Vancouver dance, cross-pollination and drawing influence from abroad are not new concepts for dancers here either. Dance artists of the past, such as those involved in Coming Out of Chaos, studied nationally and internationally, and were inspired by the work and practitioners they encountered elsewhere, which they blended and molded into their own unique forms in Vancouver and across Canada. Max Wyman summarizes this phenomenon as follows:
For more on the early days of dance at SFU – a time that greatly influenced dance in Vancouver – visit this site.
Wyman observes how those who were more tuned into Vancouver created dance that “...had a West Coast flavour.” He articulates how this West Coast dance style “...was laid back, it was involved with the environment, it spoke to spiritual concerns, it was rooted in the land, rooted in the people of the place.” Vancouver in the 1970s was a place for “spiritual seekers,” and Wyman recalls how “...this was a place where you could try and fail. You could be ridiculous, you could be experimental, and nobody cared because you weren't being judged.” This lack of judgement was due in part to the lack of an international audience, however this began to change as companies, such as Karen Jamieson Dance, gained more widespread notoriety. Nonetheless, Vancouver had a “reputation for eccentricity” that was very much reflected in the dance that was being made – predominantly modern and experimental styles, as Wyman notes how ballet requires more money, space, and dancers than Vancouver could supply at that time.
Despite the consensus among today’s dancers that Vancouver lacks a unifying aesthetic, one may continue to question to what extent the legacy of place-based and experimental dance still influences and informs the present. Regardless of where one stands on the matter, it is undeniable that the Vancouver dance community continues to create work that is exciting and innovative.
Lure of the Local
The impulse to assert aesthetic distinctness is perhaps eclipsed by a stronger desire to recognize Vancouver as a distinct place, as well as the collective struggles and challenges – both recent and historical – that have catalyzed and united dance practitioners as a tightly knit community, perhaps more than ever before.
In the words of performance scholar Peter Dickinson, the dance scene in Vancouver today strongly identifies with a sense of community “...specific to Vancouver, that’s not transplanted, and that that community has become increasingly political and invested – not just in contributing to the dance scene, but also the discourse on dance, asking us to think about what we believe dance is, and what counts as dance, or what counts as excellence in dance.”
With this in mind, one can begin to consider the role of dance not only as a form of creative expression but also as a critical and vital form of socio-political commentary with dancers and choreographers as critical conveyors of this knowledge. Considering the role of dance in relation to place, Dickinson further expands on the connections between movement, dance, and the social history of the city:
When discussing place and “the local” in the context of Vancouver and the Pacific Northwest coast, it is also imperative to understand this land as the unceded and occupied territories and homelands of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh First Nations. The role of dance within these communities can not be overlooked, as dance is a powerful cultural and political form of expression that is closely tied to land and title. Dance has existed here since time immemorial, but was also suppressed by the Canadian government’s racist Indian Act legislation through which the implementation of the potlatch ban by the federal government in 1884 prohibited dancing, and was not lifted until 1951. Dickinson addresses this history and its impact on contemporary dancers of settler descent, such as Karen Jamieson, as well as the notable acts of resistance by Indigenous communities who continued to practice their cultural traditions and teachings in spite of discriminatory and suppressive laws:
The Dancers of Damelahamid & the Coastal Dance Festival
One group to highlight in particular are The Dancers of Damelahamid who “...emerged in the 1960s out of an urgency to ensure that these artistic practices were not lost” following the lift of the potlatch ban in 1951. The Dancers of Damelahamid were originally steered by Gitxsan Chief Kenneth Harris (1928-2010) and Cree Elder Margaret Harris (1931-2020) who formed the group in 1967. In 2019, the duo were inducted into the Dance Hall of Fame, recognizing their work for reviving Indigenous dance and culture. Today, the group continues to operate under the artistic and executive direction of Margaret Grenier, the Harris' daughter. The Dancers of Damelahamid also program the Coastal Dance Festival which is “...a celebration of the stories, songs and dances of the Indigenous peoples of the Northwest Coast with guest national and international artists.” The festival is typically held in early Spring, in partnership with New Westminster’s Anvil Centre and UBC’s Museum of Anthropology and has been running since 2007.
The Rise of Dance Festivals
The rise of dance festivals to present both local and international work not only points to Vancouver as an active cultural milieu, but also to the collectively-minded spirit that in many ways has characterized dance in this region for many years. Festival presentation has also had a major influence on local performers and creators who gain the opportunity to see work from elsewhere and to connect with dance professionals from abroad, instead of having to travel. The rise of dance festivals in Vancouver has allowed for a greater diversification and globalization of dance in Vancouver, as Peter Dickinson points out when speaking about the Vancouver International Dance Festival:
“…all the people who've come across that stage constitute a kind of a unique genealogy of contemporary dance, and we need to also consider the fact that it is where it is, and the fact that the dancing happens as much on the outdoor back deck as on the indoor concert stage, and the conversations that happen around that. Again, part of this idea of dance and social history being intertwined, is really important there.”
The Vancouver International Dance Festival, Dancing on the Edge Festival, Canada Dance Festival, & the Annual Dance in Canada Association Conference
In Dickinson’s book titled “My Vancouver Dance History: Story, Movement, Community” (2020), the “Interval” chapters seek to think through broader issues around legacy such as “...institutionality…”, and “...questions of space…”, as well as “...the whole idea that you could say the contemporary Vancouver dance history is a history that’s founded on festival presentation, and what’s unique about that.” In particular, Dickinson points out that the Vancouver International Dance Festival (VIDF), whose origins can be traced back to the Vancouver Butoh Festival, produced by Jay Hirabayashi and Barbara Bourget of Kokoro Dance Theatre Society and premiered at the Firehall Theatre in 1998, is one of the oldest and longest running professional contemporary dance festivals in Canada. The VIDF premiered their first festival at Performance Works (2000-2001) and then the Roundhouse (2003). Currently, the VIDF operates out of the Vancouver Playhouse and the Orpheum Annex, and co-present with The Dance Centre and The Cultch. Additional long-standing dance festivals include Dancing on the Edge Festival, which began in 1989, and the Canada Dance Festival which has been held annually in Ottawa, Ontario since 1987. The Canada Dance Festival also has connections to the annual Dance in Canada Association Conference, which first began in 1972 and moved across the country every year. The annual Dance in Canada Association Conference brought together dance practitioners from across the country to share works and exchange knowledge. It proved to be a formative platform for emerging dancers and choreographers, including Karen Jamieson, as it was at the 10th Annual Dance in Canada Association Conference in Ottawa Ontario where her ground-breaking work, Solo From Chaos, first premiered in 1982. In her oral history interview, Jamieson recalls the premiere of her solo being received as “a hit” that ultimately helped launch her career.
The Downtown Eastside Heart of the City Festival
For collaborative duo Terry Hunter and Savannah Walling, festivals have always been a place to find inspiration and to connect with community. Terry Hunter mentions the Powell Street Festival – a community arts festival which takes place annually in Vancouver’s historic Japanese Canadian neighbourhood in the Downtown Eastside – as an early influence on his own creative practice and the incredible opportunity it presented to see new artists from different parts of the world:
“I think it was 1978 when they came to Vancouver for the Powell Street Festival, who brought in musicians and amazing groups. So, I saw Za Ondekoza there and it was a movement, a folk tradition based on percussion – moving and percussion at the same time.” - Terry Hunter
Festivals were also a place where Hunter and Walling were able to present their own work, which often integrated music, costumes, and theatrical performances. Walling recalls the guerilla performance of Drum Mother (1982), performed by Terry Hunter, at the Vancouver Children’s Festival in 1982, the same year Coming Out of Chaos premiered. An early iteration of Drum Mother also premiered at the Chinatown New Years Parade in 1982, with Ahmed Hassan as Drum Mother and Terry Hunter as Ireme.
Hunter and Walling have been deeply involved in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside (DTES) as community members and cultural leaders for a long time. Their presence dates back to the mid-1970s when Terminal City Dance began renting out studio space in the Lim Sai Hor Kow Mock Benevolent Association building at 525 Carrall Street, situated in Vancouver’s Chinatown in the DTES. Since then, the pair has made notable contributions to fostering the creative and cultural vitality of the neighbourhood. In 2004, their interdisciplinary company Vancouver Moving Theatre (formerly Special Delivery Dance Music Theatre) initiated the Downtown Eastside Heart of the City Festival in partnership with the Carnegie Community Centre. The festival continues to operate today at an impressive, and, for Terry Hunter, nearly unfathomable scale:
“You know, if you told me in the 1970s, when we opened up a studio in Chinatown in 1975, that 40 years later, you would be producing a festival that featured 1,500 artists, and 160 events in 12 days, I wouldn't believe you.” - Terry Hunter
Dance Festivals Today
Today, there are many dance, performing arts, and interdisciplinary festivals that continue to operate and present local and international dance works across Vancouver. Listed below is a small selection of them to explore:
DanceHouse
Founded by Barbara Clausen and Jim Smith in 2008, DanceHouse “...connects Vancouver audiences and the local arts community to the international world of dance by presenting exceptional companies that are recognized for their excellence, innovation, and international reputation.”Dancing on the Edge
Celebrating it’s 33rd year in existence as the oldest dance festival in Canada, Dancing on the Edge “strives to create a place where contemporary dance artists are supported in the creation, development, and presentation of artistically exciting choreography and where audiences discover and enjoy dance in both traditional and non-traditional settings.”Downtown Eastside Heart of the City Festival
Taking place in Vancouver’s DTES across different venues and platforms, the 2021 DTES Heart of the City Festival featured “twelve days of live and online events, including music, stories, poetry, theatre, ceremony, films, readings, forums, workshops, discussions, art talks, history talks, and visual art exhibitions; including the Art in the Streets program with surprise pop-up music and spoken word activities on sidewalks and small plazas throughout the historic district.” In its 2021 programming year, Terry Hunter and Savannah Walling also celebrated 50 years of creative collaboration.Coastal First Nations Dance Festival
Beginning in 2007, the Coastal First Nations Dance Festival is “...a celebration of the stories, songs and dances of the Indigenous peoples of the Northwest Coast with guest national and international artists.” The festival is produced by The Dancers of Damelahamid and is typically held in early Spring, in partnership with New Westminster’s Anvil Centre and UBC’s Museum of Anthropology. The festival has been running since 2007.Chutzpah! Festival: The Lisa Nemetz Festival of International Jewish Performing Arts
Launched in 2001 by the Vancouver Westside Theatre Society, the Chutzpah! Festival is “an annual festival of world-renowned dance, music, theatre, and comedy, through a lens of Jewish experiences, stories, and values in all their richness and diversity, creating unforgettable and unique experiences for audiences throughout the Lower Mainland.”PuSh International Performing Arts Festival
Taking place at the end of January, the PuSh Festival “expands the horizons of Vancouver artists and audiences with work that is visionary, genre-bending, multi-disciplined, startling and original.” It features “acclaimed international, Canadian and local artists and mixes them together with an alchemy that inspires audiences, rejuvenates artists, stimulates the industry and forges productive relationships around the globe.”Vancouver's First Nation Talking Stick Festival
Produced by Full Circle First Nations Performance, the Talking Stick Festival is a two-week festival held annually across different locations in Vancouver that started in 2001 “as a way to showcase and celebrate Indigenous art and performance to a wider audience.” Their programming ”...appeals to Indigenous and non-Indigenous attendees alike, our programming focuses on the diversity of visual arts, dance, theatre, music, powwow and film in both traditional and contemporary formats.”Vancouver International Dance Festival
The Vancouver International Dance Festival has been featuring local and international dance programming since 2000. Initially, performances were held at Performance Works in 2000 and 2001 before moving to the Roundhouse in 2003. Currently the VIDF uses the Vancouver Playhouse, Orpheum ANNEX, and has co-presentations with The Dance Centre and The Cultch. With the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Vancouver International Dance Festival has turned to offer online and hybrid programming, offering unique cinematic live-streaming experiences of dance.Vines Art Festival
Vines Art Festival is presented by Vines, “an arts organization and festival that is responsive to and nurturing of artists that are working toward land, water, and relational justice.” The Festival was created by director Heather Lamoureux in 2015 and is held annually on the unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh First Nations (Vancouver, BC).
A Dance of Many Hats
In a similar fashion to the days of Coming Out of Chaos, dancers today take on many roles, as administrators, choreographers, collaborators, and artists. Amber Funk Barton recognizes a shift in the language as a result of a shift in dance training as well, highlighting how dancers are more often trained as artists today:
This idea connects to discussions from the not-so-distant past, where rather than being valued purely for their training, technique, and ability to memorize and perform repertoire, dancers were engaging in exploratory practices that placed artistry above accuracy. Similarly, dancers today are questioning how they fit into the larger context, and how they function within a community that is networked, dialogical, and self-referential. Josh Martin muses on this sense of community and what collaboration means in a contemporary context:
Peter Dickinson also connects the Vancouver dance scene of the ‘70s and ‘80s to today in saying that both seem to be chiefly concerned with interdisciplinary collaboration, incorporation of multimedia, and experimentation:
Today's dance artists have to be many things, and where collaboration was once a creative choice, it has now become a necessity. For Amber Funk Barton, the success of her project-based company the response. was strongly supported by collaboration through knowledge sharing and mentorship from friends and colleagues:
“Vancouver can be a challenging place to have a career as a dance artist, so I feel just so fortunate that I've been able to keep going. And so much of it I want to add is the result of people's generosity, sharing information. There's no way any of us can achieve anything if people aren't passing down knowledge that they received. Once you get to about mid-career, you realize there's certain things people have shared with you, or told you and that it's your responsibility to pass on to other people if they ask, and I've always encouraged that.”
Josh Martin uses the example of his own Company, Company 605, previously called 605 Collective, to demonstrate how independent artists are drawn to coming together to form collectives as a means of broadening their practices and creating work they would not otherwise be able to make alone. He discusses the importance of this conversation between independent artists and the collective, and how dancers – even those working within a company structure – are viewed more and more as collaborators who have agency to contribute and shape the creation of a piece.
Max Wyman’s analysis of the collaborative phenomenon that touched Terminal City Dance, Coming Out of Chaos, and EDAM can also be considered in relation to Company 605, and the possibilities that are created when inspired artists come together to experiment, and are open to seeing what happens. In many cases, these successful collaborations would not have been possible were it not for the dancers’ breadth of skills and talents, stretching far beyond creation and performance, into administration, grant writing, networking, and working in cooperation with one another, if only fleetingly.
Wyman sheds light on the nature of collaboration as something that is often temporary, or intermittent, but which increases creative possibilities and leads to discoveries. Martin’s perspective on collaboration as a means of legitimizing a collective urge is another way in which this practice can be viewed as a fundamental and highly beneficial part of a contemporary dancer’s practice.
The Three Challenges: Time, Money, & Space
“You're always fighting against so many things. And that's another reason why I think dancers are just problem solvers. I would say choreographers and directors are the ultimate problem-solvers. But dance artists, they're just always constantly trying to figure out how to do what they do.” - Amber Funk Barton
Interviews with current dance artists Josh Martin, Amber Funk Barton, and Darcy McMurray revealed three common challenges that dance practitioners face in Vancouver today: time, money, and space. These three factors are inextricably linked, and one cannot be fully resolved without addressing and working to ameliorate the other two.
Previously, even in the absence of proper funding, space was more affordable to rent or work out of and the demand to produce work within a strictly enforced timeline was less commonplace. Today’s dancers and choreographers face a multitude of challenges as a result of these new circumstances, which, while similar to obstacles of the past, have become increasingly acute.
TIME
While money and space were also issues endured by Vancouver dancers early on in the 1960s and ‘70s before the Canada Council got on board to help fund dance companies and projects, the challenge of time is a relatively new struggle. Darcy McMurray expresses this shift:
McMurray speaks to how time is entirely subject to funding, as the budget will determine how deeply an idea can be explored, leading to this new phenomenon of time scarcity:
“I do worry about the art scene and art funding. I think one of the biggest struggles for artists is to be able to have time to percolate ideas and time to explore more extensive concepts. Funding ends up being so segmented and sectional: you get a chunk [of money] and then you end up trimming the ideas down to work with what you’ve got. I wonder about the artist’s opportunity to explore more spacious, expansive thoughts when our funding is quite constricted.” - Darcy McMurray
MONEY
Dancers are also rising to the financial challenges they are faced with today. Here, McMurray speaks to the ways in which today’s artists do not enjoy certain luxuries that dancers of the past did, purely because of shifting funding models and resources. She enumerates some of the realities that dancers are having to come to terms with and adapt their practices to, namely space and funding, and how artists are responding to and working around these limitations:
Amber Funk Barton also speaks to the ways in which funding has a major influence on the work being created – who gets to make it and how much work – and the challenges and barriers to acquiring funding. She also raises an important point regarding the amount of administration that dancers must do in order to prove themselves eligible for funding, a reality that is present in Jay Hirabayashi’s recollections of EDAM’s administrative tensions, and that can still be seen today as a drain on the resources of dance artists:
Funding is not only needed to ensure the livelihoods of artists, but also to maintain and support relationships between collaborators, which, as we have seen, is a necessary and enriching feature of the Vancouver dance community. Amber Funk Barton describes a common phenomena that occurs when funding is scarce or insufficient:
“Funding's always the big thing because you want to be professional with the people you work with. You want to make sure artists are paid their value in their worth. I've even not decided to proceed with projects because I'm not going to do it unless people are paid. I'm not going to ask somebody to work for free. And unfortunately, I've been in situations, and still to this day, where I believed in the project so I forfeited getting paid.”
Indeed, Coming Out of Chaos dancer and artist Lola Ryan affirms that today a work like Coming Out of Chaos would not be possible in the same way that it was then:
“A work like that would require too much money. It would have to be produced and co-produced, and I just think there's too many impediments. Money is tight these days. You have to have all of your ducks lined up in terms of documentation. Everybody's resumes have to be up to snuff. You can't just bring somebody in off the street. Well, you can if they're a hip-hop dancer, a break dancer, because that's in. At the time, it was an easier thing than it ever would be today.”
Amount of funding affects how much time can be spent in exploration as well as where work can take place. The issue of space is tied up in affordability, availability, and suitability of the space for the creation of dance.
“I think funding is the big thing. Now space is a huge issue. It's always been a huge issue before and now it's even a bigger issue with COVID-19. Space. It's amazing how much you need space. Space that is clean, space that feels warm, space that you feel like you can create in.” - Amber Funk Barton
SPACE
As discussed in Chapter 3: After Chaos, The Scotiabank Dance Centre has become a centralized facility where dancers come together to work and connect. Darcy McMurray acknowledges this and other spaces where dance is being created in Vancouver, including more unconventional spaces:
The use of public, outdoor spaces harkens back to the days of Terminal City Dance and the ingenuity that is often necessary to produce work with limited space and cost factors to consider. Converting existing studios into more multi-functional spaces is another way in which artists are maximizing space. McMurray reflects on how her former studio, Full Circle Studio - Movement Arts, was more than just a pilates and fitness-oriented space:
“My studio also functioned as an art gallery. I'd say that my studio ended up being rehab focused too, so it was less exercise-based and more a safe healing place. It was important for me to create a space where we not only had the capacity to heal ourselves, but where we were also encouraged to expand our perceptions of why and how we move in this world.”
As space is at a premium, multiple uses can inform a single location and intentional and well-thought-out use of available space is paramount. Funk Barton expresses how lack of immediate access to space and dancers is another aspect of this issue that can halt the creative process. This delay to access also means that premeditation on use of space is crucial and sometimes daunting:
“Take musicians or visual artists, if they get an idea at three o'clock in the morning, they can just pick up their instrument and go to town, and it's jotted down, and they have it, and they can work on it. Whereas when you're a choreographer or a dancer, and you have a great idea, I mean – of course it's changed a lot with COVID-19, but the reality is, if you're working with dancers you have to wait. When are the dancers available? When can I get space? You're always working against your optimum, ideal situation. Like, maybe you're a morning person, but all your dancers function better in the afternoon. And then you can't get studio space.”
Performance studies scholar Peter Dickinson highlights the different tiers of dance studio spaces in Vancouver, and how The Dance Centre, as compared to other DIY studios, is not affordable to certain artists. He argues that the more spaces there are, the more availability there is for a broader range of artists - established and emerging:
“Even a place like The Dance Centre, which is the home for Vancouver dance, their studio fees are not exorbitant – exorbitant may be strong – but they're not competitive, right? So, places like Left of Main, or Harbour Dance, or KW [Kokoro Woodwards Production Studios] – it's great that we have more of those spaces now because I think it's opened up things. Because a dance artist needs a studio. You can't get around that, although people make work in their kitchens, and living rooms – but those basics are huge, and I think more subvention could happen.”
These three factors that act upon the creation of dance in Vancouver are inseparable, as they all effect and influence one another. This is both a challenge and an opportunity, for if changes are made in one sphere a domino effect could produce improvements in others and lessen the obstacles that dancers face today. (1)
1 - In an email from Jay Hirabayashi dated May 13, 2022, he describes another instance in the near past where access to space was an issue for the Vancouver independent dance community. He writes that the Vancouver Civic Theatres had an unwritten rental policy “that prevented any dance organization from renting the Queen Elizabeth Theatre or Vancouver Playhouse Theatre within 3 weeks – before or after dates booked by its resident companies.” This policy prevented external dance organizations from booking regularly at these spaces. It wasn’t until Hirabayashi brought the issue forward to Vancouver City Council, and the Playhouse Theatre Company went bankrupt that the policy officially changed in 2013.
Accessing Dance & Dance Archives
While many of the same challenges continue to persist in the dance world, what is new are the ways in which one can access dance today. Thanks to the internet, virtual streaming, and digital archives, one no longer has to physically leave their locale to experience new forms of dance and find inspiration elsewhere, as they once did. Accessing dance and connecting with dance practitioners from afar through digital means has become more readily available, especially with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2019, which in many cases made it essential for dance artists around the world to go online. Due to increased, widespread, and unprecedented access to digital content, the possibilities for the preservation of dance and dance culture is greater than ever before, and the clips below reveal how significant this shift is.
“If we don’t know history, we’re lost” - Max Wyman
A point on which all of the interviewees unanimously agreed upon was the importance of history for artists, writers, and scholars alike. Kaija Pepper speaks about historical research, and the ability to conduct it, as a gift:
“I look at it as gold – the gold is what I have learned about Vancouver dance over the past decades; the decades that formed me and you.”
The past can be a source of inspiration, of reflection, of comparison, and a way to pull threads through time and space.
In considering centralized repositories for dance materials or other methods to increase access and use of dance archives, Josh Martin muses:
“I think that if a place existed that was full and rich of many different opinions, and perspectives, and stories, and recollections of a place and time would be something I would get lost in, for sure.”
A resource like this would serve many purposes, both practical and more conceptual. Martin thinks about how it might be of service and “...useful for inspiration in that same sense that I'm talking about, like being connected to a larger undertaking that's been jointly held up by so many people. I think that's useful to me when thinking about persevering as an artist, but it's not like I would utilize it for getting ideas to make my work. It's more about utilizing it for sustaining energy and passion behind the things that I'm doing.”
This kind of inspiration hinges on a process of discovery that is only possible through what Martin refers to as “pure access” – the ability to sift through materials unrestrictedly, and to draw connections between items, stories, individuals, and one's own subjectivity. This kind of discovery can be highly valuable to dance artists and can be facilitated by pure access to dance archives, both digitally and physically, and the knowledge they hold.
Allowing for archival research and discovery also contributes to continuity and cultural preservation. Amber Funk Barton acknowledges the loss that can occur when artists of the past are not given their due, and why documentation and study are so important:
This means of connecting to those who came before is described by Darcy McMurray as an integral part of keeping strong lines of communication open:
“I think that if Vancouver's dance history and heritage is not preserved, you're going to have a gap in communication and information. Essentially, we know that's a way to destroy culture. If we can't continue this clear communication between the youth and the elders, and people in-between, the arts will have an unhealthy gap that will weaken our culture.”
Another central role of the archives is for teaching and mentoring. This realization often comes later, as Funk Barton says, “...when you're just trying to create work, you're just trying to get the funding, you're trying to do all the things. Archiving and your legacy is like, will I have a legacy? What's a legacy?” Fortunately, these artists’ testimonies remind us of the importance of documentation and how keeping records can be invaluable to future generations.
Unsurprisingly, Simon Fraser University is one local repository that holds several personal archival fonds of notable dance artists in the community. One such collection is the Judith Marcuse fonds, which also has a large digital collection, the Judith Marcuse Dance Collection. Dance Collection Danse is another resource for dance archives – a unique organization that “exists to preserve Canada's dance heritage and share it internationally through programming such as virtual and live exhibits, screenings, lectures, workshops, education, dance animation, catalogues, annual magazine, books, and by supporting research.” These collections are just some examples of the incredible resources for dance history and information in Canada.
Dance Writing
Documentation and writing about dance serves an integral, and often underestimated role in its preservation, dissemination, and contextualization.
“A lot of people talk about dance as being the most ephemeral art form. It's there, and then it disappears, and I agree, to an extent. It's in time, in space, and notwithstanding documentation, and moving online, I resist saying that it disappears completely. I think one way it remains is through writing, and I think really good dance writing contextualizes the work formally, conceptually, historically, and then also, ideally, connects dance to other ideas, and events.” - Peter Dickinson
As a dance writer, historian, scholar, and involved community member in local dance, Dickinson reflects on how his role has changed, and how writers in this field can best serve the current generation of dancers. For him, “...it has to do with being more self-reflective in accounting for my presence, thinking about the writing as a form of collaboration, and even when offering critique or criticism, being careful to account for where the artist might be coming from.”
There is a striking similarity between Dickinson’s description of the role of the dance writer and the evolving role of dancers today, who must also be collaborative, reflective, and engaged with their community, and its many diverse perspectives. Dance writers also have a responsibility to be mindful of the context in which they are working, and to address larger questions that dance and performance are bound to:
At the same time, Max Wyman reminds us that “...informed and thoughtful commentary on one's experience of engagement with a piece of art, of any kind, is really going to be crucial to help the art form understand itself, and make advances, and to help the wider world be comfortable with it, and understand what's happening in the studios, and the concert halls, and the rehearsal rooms of our artists… and, of course, to widen and deepen the public conversation about issues that matter.”
Solo From Chaos Recreations
In the recreation of Karen Jamieson’s Solo From Chaos – a solo that emerged from Coming Out of Chaos and was performed by Jamieson throughout the 1980s – archival footage, as well as embodied memory, were relied upon to transmit the solo to a new generation of dancers. This piece was recreated as a duet between Jamieson and Darcy McMurray in 2007, and then again in 2018/2019 by Darcy McMurray, Amber Funk Barton, and Josh Martin as part of Jamieson’s Body to Body legacy project.
Of this process, Karen Jamieson reflects, “...it was an amazing experience to do that because I realized that piece was really solid – had a very solid structure, and narrative, but it grew through working with them.” Prior to undertaking these recreations, Jamieson questioned the relevance of the piece in a contemporary context – “I know that was part of the question behind going back and examining – does it speak today?” She discovered it does for two reasons: the first being the enduring presence of these mythic narratives in our lives that she was exploring then and now, and the second being the ability of the dancers to translate these narratives in their own ways. As Jamieson puts it, “I loved watching them grapple with it and enrich it the way they did. They brought so much to it. I was just so excited by that.”
Recreating Solo From Chaos also allowed for new connections and discoveries to be made by comparing the two time periods. One such discovery was the realization that the piece was not a solo at all, but rather a duet, as Jamieson remarks, “...finally, as I was working with these guys, it became obvious when it was live, when Ahmed [Hassan] was there. It was very powerful. When I tried to do it to recorded breath, no. I had to have that [collaboration] – it was a duet… a duet of breath and body.” Another was the renewed appreciation for parts of the piece as seen from a new temporal vantage point, such as Ahmed Hassan’s experimental breathwork, which Jamieson likened to beatboxing, noting that “..he was doing that before beatboxing became popular.” Terry Hunter remembers how Hassan’s inspiration to begin breath work was very influenced by Inuit throat singers, which they had seen at Simon Fraser University. Hunter recalls how Terminal City Dance was working a lot with “breath work, and yoga breathing, and vocal work,” which Hassan “put it into this vocal rhythmic expression” that then led to “an incredible integration of music and movement” in the duet that ensued with Jamieson.
Further, Jamieson’s recreations present a tangible example of an embodied archive – a means of transmitting information through time that relies on personal and embodied experiences of the material:
“...[it was a] really, really good process because they [the dancers] were so responsive, and so ready to go into it. One difficulty that I ran into is that I wanted to really examine the physical language of it. I thought it was necessary – rather than sit around and talk about it before people had actually experienced it as a physical language. So, I wanted the dancers to actually learn the material and then start exploring, and deconstructing, or whatever… I felt that necessity to kind of grapple with the actual, original, physical language, and material, and then challenge it, and question it, and start to play with it a bit. So overall, it was a really fruitful experience in that it allowed me to see the real power of these pieces, but also how they could be brought into the contemporary perspective.” - Karen Jamieson
Below, Amber Funk Barton, Josh Martin, and Darcy McMurray, the three dance artists who took part in the Solo From Chaos recreations, discuss the role that archival materials and sources played in the restaging of this work and their experiences looking back:
Amber Funk Barton: “Crazy! I was just like, look at this crazy wild woman! I mean that all in the best way, and then watching that work, realizing how, to me, like that is contemporary work – like when it was coming out. You can't categorize it! I love how she was just doing her thing. She was doing what she believed in. She was just believing in what she wanted to make. It wasn't like anyone else – the subject matter, or the themes. That takes guts.”
Josh Martin: “I loved the whole project because of this idea of taking work from the archives, and bringing it forward into a new context, having conversations about it, trying to look at it now through a different lens. I really was fascinated by the historical elements of it. I think all of us were really engaged by the story of how that solo came to be; having Karen [Jamieson] talk about the ladder, of how that was just there. When you start to piece together where she was at in her head, and the choices that she was making, and the state that the world is in, and the state that her practice was in, it's just so cool to be able to get the inner perspective of that work.”
Darcy McMurray: “For Solo From Chaos, at the time, in 2008, we were trying to work a lot from video. I was really trying to see what she had created before, see if I could recreate that as true as possible… At the time, I think we were trying to source out the best videos to recreate the piece from, and if the video didn't land and in what her memory was, we'd work on it in person. She's amazing to work with because her work is so intentional. If something was unclear, we could find the route of the intention through discussion and memories… It was like going through a photo album. You could witness before and after, or now and then.”
These recollections reveal both the emotional experience of reviving and working with the archives, and the process of recreation that often relies upon archival materials to obtain a glimpse of the object of study and its broader context.
Stories to Come
By gaining a deeper understanding of the contemporary dance scene in Vancouver today through the process of developing Coming Out of Chaos: A Vancouver Dance Story, it is clearly discernible the many ways in which established practitioners, past actions, and formative works have created resonant effects in the present day. From dance festivals, to stylistic influences, to a wealth of archival resources for inspiration and reflection, previous generations have paved the way for and given rise to the contemporary scene, whether intentionally or not. And yet, despite the commonalities, the Vancouver contemporary dance community continues to evolve under new conditions; concerned with questions of limited funding and resources, inclusion and diversity, and the increased digital nature of dance creation, documentation, and preservation.
Peter Dickinson touches on the important shift towards thinking critically about social movements and shifting values as fertile terrain for dance to engage with. He describes the relationship between society and dance as one in which dance can serve to teach about and explore topics of larger social importance:
While Dickinson asks us to look at the larger social and political contexts in which dance takes place, Amber Funk Barton also reminds us to consider the individual dancer as a valuable, living archive in and of themselves; constantly accumulating a repertoire of embodied and valuable knowledge:
Bodies are but one vehicle for the transmission of knowledge, others are physical records which do equally as critical work in documenting dance. Regardless of form, preservation, in both the embodied and tangible sense, will allow us to create a record of dance history that is dynamic, enduring, and rife with possibilities for inspiration, interpretation, and ongoing creation. Arguably, the stories to come have already been written; the task at hand is simply connecting them all together to bring them to life.
Karen Jamieson, Peter Bingham, and Jennifer Mascall conducting in-studio research in 2012/2013 at the Scotiabank Dance Centre for Jamieson’s 2014 work solo|soul. These photos illustrate the ongoing collaborative and creative relationships that endure between many of the Vancouver-based dance artists who were involved in Coming Out of Chaos, as well as the centrality of the Scotiabank Dance Centre as a space for dance in the city.
Chapter Four: Resonance is written and edited collaboratively by Emma Metcalfe Hurst and Charlotte Leonard.