Variations on a Body: Dance Peace
Published on the Performing Body
Here’s a poem I wrote as the program note for and description of my solo dance theater performance piece of the same name.
It’s my humble creative offering from 1996.
1996 was my final and most productive year at the Speech and Drama Department at the University of KwaZulu-Natal. I was inspired to create and perform the music, the choreography, and the poem for my piece after reading Edwin Morgan’s sonnet “Opening the Cage: 14 Variations on 14 Words” (The Second Life, Edinburgh University Press, 1968).
Morgan created his 14-line poem using John Cage’s statement, “I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry” (Silence, Wesleyan University Press, 1961).
The poem still fascinates me.
By 1996 I knew about John Cage’s work, especially his most well known 4’33” (1952). Cage’s 4’33’’ is “for any instrument or combination of instruments.” It’s an experimental musical composition in three movements free of any intentional sounds. 4’33” is an invitation to listen to the ambient sounds in the silence during a performance usually lasting four minutes and thirty-three seconds.
In 1996 I created three variations of myself that I could perform at the same time: a poem, a dance, a music composition. The simultaneous existence of these variations brought me a deep sense of peace. The fragmented pieces of me became unified in the moment of performance—I was Quenntis Ashby, expressed as a body of words first on the page, then on the stage and in the air. I was whole because I was dancing peace.
I believe the true search for my creative self had already started by 1996. This poem is a clear sign I was on that path.
Variations on a Body: Dance Peace.
A b o d y in many parts searches for unity of existence.
Unity of existence searches for a bo dy in many parts.
Many parts in a bod y of unity searches for existence.
A body in unity of existence searches for many parts.
I’m a deeply introverted and private person. I love my own company most of the time. Large groups of people frighten me into being a lot more quiet than I usually am. Even my own family can be overwhelming at times.
So why did I put myself in the spotlight throughout my school years by performing in plays (and writing them) and taking part in inter school Debates and Toastmasters?
How did I end up spending three years in the Speech and Drama Department at the University of KwaZulu-Natal performing in and creating numerous works for the stage?
Why did I spend the next four years at the University of Cape Town’s School of Dance, and another two years dancing for Cape Town City Ballet and the Cape Dance Company?
Why did I audition twice for Cats and then perform for thousands of people as a kitten called Victor in Korea and China in 2003?
Why did I actively seek out and make opportunities to sing and dance and act, even though I believed (and still do) that I was a pretty average human being?
I believe I became a performing artist because performing scares the snot out of me.
And this fear pushed me far enough outside of my comfort zone to discover something new about myself and to grow a little bit more as a result. I became a better version of myself every time.
Making my mom and dad proud was an important goal, too.
I wanted more out of my life. I knew I needed to grow more to be ready to catch the amazing things life was bound to throw my way.
Conabor was my Malvern Primary School motto. “I shall try” still motivates me to give everything my best shot. My Brettonwood High School’s motto was Audacior. It’s a reminder and an inspiration for me to be “more daring (in all senses).”
If I believe something is worth doing and creating, then I want to do it and create it today.
After stepping away from a professional career on the stage my challenge now is to see who I am and what I can do by publishing and sharing my words with you wherever I can. I’ve found a new fear I’m willing to face because I know I’m going to grow so much by embracing it—fear of showing up on a page for you and others to read.
How about you?
How do you show up for yourself (and others) every day?
How do you keep building up that amazing body of words I know you are?
Ohhhhhh fellow dancer, upon stage and page. I wonder if we can’t help but do this, we musically inclined choreographers who write--to create rhythm with our words. To dance musicality across a page. To use the visual and audio aspects of the written word, in addition to conveying meaning through language. Like the ways you broke up “body.” And “yes, yes, I must confess,” in a piece that is not meant to be poetry. But it all is.
These qualities were so familiar from the first of your words that I ever read. I look forward to reading more!
I, too, handled my own issues with being in crowds and public interactions through a career on the stage. I, too, am transitioning into new forms of bravery in actually letting people experience the specificity of my words. It makes it a little easier and a lot more fun, not doing it alone.
Thanks for sharing yourself!
This is amazing! Have me goose bumps to read about your life story. I love the way that you think, it's similar to my thinking but way more developed. You have a way with words and I completely understand the way that you form them into poetry. B O D Y in unity is BODY. your words are music to my soul.