Censorship
Censorship is defined as the suppression of speech, public communication, or other information. Depending on the context, it is usually conducted by the entity considered as authority, and which holds the power to enforce it. Other types of censorship can be self imposed.
Almost every system that surrounds us and that we are part of, includes different layers and types of censorship. Enforced, or self imposed.
Choreography is no different. in some ways, censorship is the main tool of work in the choreographic field, enforced (consciously or not) by choreographers over the individual dancers, clearly visible in the manner in which it manifests visually in a choreographic context. It is so engrained into the notion of what a choreographer’s role is, that’s it’s almost invisible.
There’s a growing need to think about a model for censorship resistant choreography, one that is a self sustaining, self governed, self stabilizing system, where the authoritarian, centralized censorship option, has been canceled.
This has to do mainly with deciding what are the foundational rules for choreographic systems, and then, what are the mechanisms put in place, for the overall decision making processes and how they can be resistant to censorship.
Censorship is not a bug, but rather a feature of centrally devised and controlled systems.
In decentralized systems, where individual players are free to decide and act, and where decisions are reached through proposition, interaction, negotiation and the need for emergent consensus, censorship becomes useless as a creative and regulating tool.
Censorship, is a form of deliberate, enforced intervention. It challenges the notion of individual sovereignty. It has defined most of what my choreographic research has been about and it keeps doing so. It serves as a road map for me to try and understand my role and position as choreographer. What to do, but mostly, what not to do. Looking through the lens of censorship, is the main tool I’m using to keep learning what my role is and what might be the best way to approach it.
Remaining on the sidelines, regarding many aspects of the choreographic creative process, is probably the most bold move choreographers can adopt. But it requires the development of a choreographic entity, which is autonomous and separate from its creator. A not so easy or intuitive concept to grasp, when it comes to art making and it’s (false) linkage to self expression.
A list of things which are forms of choreographic censorship:
choreographers creating and then teaching material to dancers.
Choreographers telling dancers where to stand.
Choreographers creating ‘composition’.
Choreographers deciding dancers’ cues.
Choreographers telling Dancers where to come in from/exit to. And when.
Choreographers telling dancers where to look.
Choreographers telling dancers what to think.
Choreographers telling dancers what to feel.
Choreographers correcting dancers’ movements.
Choreographers deciding for dancers how to relate to music.
Choreographers deciding who’s dancing with who.
Choreographers imposing a movement style on dancers.
Choreographers deciding for dancers what is the story they’re telling.
And on and on and on…
I’m no stranger to all of these. I’ve been there and done all of these at one point. But each and every one of these, plus many more, have slowly become irrelevant as a working tool, as my understanding of what choreography can actually be, shifted. When I do find myself falling into one of these traps, I try at least to make sure it’s done as a proposition, rather than a demand, leaving a space for dancers to choose if they want to take it or not.
By eliminating the option for censorship as a tool for choreographic creation, what might emerge, is a completely new understanding of the choreographer’s role and the choreographic art form. But for this to happen, the entire notion of what choreography, as a system which manages human energy and creativity, can be, needs to radically change and evolve.