Questions to Consider (proposed by Randy):
Share a bit about who you are as an artist, your creative practice, your repertoire.
And still I move.
To me, Lxs Desaparecidxs are my black and brown ancestors who lived as someone other than their true selves. This choice, to me, was made out of the will to survive. My queer ancestors did not live in times where they could shout their being into existence without the fear of alienation or execution. I use my body, my privilege, in these times to honor them through my movement. I move with freedom, unapologetically, in order to conjure up their stories of resistance and an eagerness to express who they truly were. I live to honor them through my dance and through this act I have become them. Bringing their repressed, beautiful, queer existence into a life of its own through me.
working with gabe, emelia, steph, jose, randy and all of the presences, histories, ghosts and futures that we carry has been a constantly shifting practice. we come together and each time we are a little different. our flesh modified by the week we have lived, our energies filtered or filled with who and what we have met. and each time we bring a different flesh we also find new ways to organize ourselves- new questions to ask together, new structures to share healing and growth, new potential imaginings of the many futures that exist outside and against the confines of colonialism, hetero patriarchy, productivity. that process of change that we go through in each “rehearsal” is one that to me feels like practicing community, practicing the intricacies of decentralization , fractalization, generosity, vulnerability (ala adrienne marie brown) , practicing the magic that it takes to conjure rage and memory and fleshy truth and trust into a way of relating to one another, a set of questions, a way out or a way into it.
Now my creative process is based in trust. In people I love and trust. In ancestors. In spirit.
What histories and knowledge are hidden in the body that we can shake loose?
What potentialities do we uncover when we call in those spirits who walk with us and allow them to move through us?
How do we honor our queer and POC kin lost to police violence, colonization, and patriarchy and help us find ways to heal.
Are there ways for all of us to heal and reconcile ancestral wounds (together) across our different lineages and what does this look like?
In what ways can our exploration of queer intimacies create a new way of relating to ourselves, each other, and our environment.
I’m excited to continue to investigate these pondering with folks in this piece and hold space for it to continue to evolve beyond the scope of the theatre.
Randy Reyes is queer Latinx choreographer-dance artist-curanderx. Their new work, Lxs Desaparecidxs, runs Thu-Sat, Dec 7-16 with “Pay what you can Thursdays” as a double-bill performance with Mother The Verb as part of CounterPulse’s Performing Diaspora 2017 residency. Cover Photo by Justin Ebrahemi