"Along those shores, astir with life and motion...heavily was the river breathing - an invocation through dance"
Erica Howard, Asst Prof, Cornish College of the Arts, Seattle WA; PhD student, Univ of Wisconsin-Madison. PhD: "The Effects of Climatic Variability and Land Cover Change on Aquatic Ecosystems, Carbon Cycling, and Ecosystem Services of the Amazon River Basin"
Choreography is a dance of bodies, space, and time. Research is a dance of numbers and data. Through both dance and environmental research, I explore shifting patterns in Amazon flood cycles and the changing composition and functioning of Amazonian wetlands in response to land use. Although I study Amazonia, I'm concerned with the futures of river basins - and their ability to provide ecosystem services - worldwide. So I weave diverse cultural influences into the dance in order to tell a more universal story of people and rivers.
This dance draws on traditional stories to evoke awareness of rivers as sources of water, food, and inspiration; as carriers of boats and wastes; as bringers of floods and fertile soils; and as sites for trade, play, and reverence. Traditional stories and arts are rich in ideas and imagery reflecting how people experience the world. These sources can teach us about people's ecological consciousness. Here I borrow from stories of two goddesses. In Thailand, the Loi Kratong Festival honors Phra Mae Khongkha, goddess of water, and asks her forgiveness for polluting. In Brazil, people petition to Yemanja, goddess of the ocean, the feminine principle of creation, and patron of fishermen.
The dance's first section combines Western modern dance with a Filipino dance, the Tinikling, using bamboo poles. Four "villagers" play and pray by the bamboo "river" as the goddess watches. Using the Tinikling adds another nuance: some say the dance mimics the steps of a wetland bird dodging traps set by rice farmers.
In the second section, the goddess links the villagers with a fluid cloth representing the river, and then she sets its course for the year. (Similarly, we scientists initialize our computer models and then step back to watch digital waters flow under various climate and land-cover scenarios.)
As the final section begins, the dancers weave forward, guiding their silken river in a sinuous pattern. Their first steps are determined by the Fibonacci sequence (1, 2, 3, 5, 8) - a nod to the fact that we simulate river flow using numerical computer models.
Our river starts slowly, meandering rather than rushing; it gathers momentum with the music. As with a real river, flow is sometimes turbulent, sometimes smooth and steady. Its chaos and grace manifest in the flight of silk across the landscape of the stage.
Amazon legend tells of the boto, pink river dolphins who play at the Encontro das Aguas ("Meeting of the Waters"), where the milky Rio Solimoes joins the tannin-stained Rio Negro to form a visually striking zone of high ecological fertility. Legends say that male botos come ashore as handsome men who dance with, seduce, and impregnate young women. In the video, two dancers writhe dolphin-like while others toe the water, seduced by the enchanted world existing in its depths-or perhaps fishing.
"Breathing" in the title refers to rhythmic fluxes of oxygen and carbon dioxide between river and air. Scientifically, we are curious how much CO2 (a greenhouse gas) rivers add to the atmosphere. Within the dance, patterns on several timescales allude to natural rhythms, including these gas fluxes and seasonal water cycles.
We express the power of water in many guises: its power to nurture; its power to erode soil and rock; and its power to provoke anxiety as we wonder whether the year's rains will be not-enough, too-much, or just right. The annual torrent is a mixed blessing. The waters drown the annual plant growth. But they also nurture the flooded forests, where fish eat fruit from the treetops. Then as the waters recede, they leave rich sediments promising fertility. This cycle is predictable in broad outline, but a mystery in many critical details. (When? How high? How long? How strong?)
As people convert forests to soybeans and cattle, the land's capacity to absorb floods decreases. This can trigger more and flashier flooding and changes in GHG emissions, raising questions about the land's future ability to support its denizens. This uncertainty shows in a tense duet where goddess and villagers stretch control of the river across the stage between them. Does the goddess (Mother Nature) help or hinder? Do people want to control the river, protect themselves, or protect the natural order? Will climate or human action dominate the rivers future?
The answer, of course, is yes/it depends. We explore the details with computer models. But I created this dance because we also need stories and art to communicate our fears and hopes for these possible futures.
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Additional credits: Choreographer/river goddess: E. Howard
Villagers: M. Johnson, Y. Fujimoto-Kateada, K. (Leia) Sainsbury, L. Thurrell
Music: "Streamside Songbirds" (Echoes of Nature)/"Kala Rupa:Form 7" (Greg Ellis); "La Koro Sutro:Varied Trio:II Bowl Balls" (Lou Harrison); "Hymn" (Instrumental)/"Crickets & Water" (E. of N.)
Video: H. & W. Putnam
Performed by Kanopy Dance Co. at Overture Center for the Arts (Madison WI), International Conference on Rivers & Civilization (La Crosse WI), 2006
ericaecoarts 3 years ago
Lighting: Christopher Barker
Costumes: Lisa Thurrell and Erica Howard
Title of piece adapted from A. Pushkin's poem, "The Bronze Horseman"
ericaecoarts 3 years ago