As the Kenan Fellows ended their second phase of the Fellowship, they were asked to write a reflection of their experience, prompted by questions written by their mentors. Below, Mari answers the questions posed by her mentor, dancer/choreographer Lynn Brown.
How have your Kenan Fellowship experiences affected your identity as a creative artist?
Based upon your current understanding, what aspect of the Aesthetic Education practice of Lincoln Center Institute resonates most powerfully for you personally? What is your biggest question regarding the practice?
How would you characterize the impact of the Fellowship upon your experience as a viewer of performance? How do you view the relationship between viewer and creating artist as a result of your Fellowship?
The Kenan Fellowship at Lincoln Center Institute has affected me as an artist, viewer, and being. The Capacities of Imaginative Learning-- noticing deeply, questioning, exhibiting empathy, reflecting/assessing, taking action, creating meaning, making connections, identifying patterns, embodying, and living with ambiguity-- all contribute to improving my state of “wide-awakeness”.
The Kenan Fellowship has influenced my identity as a creative artist in a variety of ways. The Capacities immediately inspired my imagination and gave me a base to work from. As soon as I was introduced to them and learned about them, they began to appear everywhere in my artistic work. For example, I did not have a pre-conceived set ending for my artistic project. I had a variety of valid options from my contextual research, but when I began creating the piece with Greg (Kenan Fellow and collaborator), I didn’t have a definite idea of where the piece would end up. The newly added capacity of “Living With Ambiguity” reaffirmed for me that it was okay, even good, not to know. Allowing the ending to be ambiguous as I worked on the beginning allowed the ending to be shaped by the dance and where the dance traveled. By the time I had choreographed through the middle up the piece, I felt the piece revealed its ending to me, and a section of text I learned years ago rematerialized and set itself at the end of my piece. I conferred with my collaborators and dancers, and they also felt the cohesiveness of this unexpected ending. I didn’t want to have to make the decision on the ending as a choreographer, and by letting it be ambiguous until the right time allowed the piece to make the decision instead of me, the dancers, or any outside influence. I also felt like this ambiguity allowed me to be more present in the actual part of the work I was creating.
Aesthetic education has also emphasized “wide-awakeness”. In my artistic work, I want to wake people up just a little more. I want the viewers or “experiencers” to leave my performances with a question about the work, or a question about themselves, or both-- anything that triggers their mind. I have an idea of what I’m aiming at triggering, but I think this message is less and less important as I become more involved with the piece and the intention. If the audience comes away questioning, why do I want them to be limited to my question? Ideally, the experiencers would formulate a question that relates to them as individuals, and this search would encourage more questioning and a few less answers.
“Wide-awakeness” lends itself to the exploration of another capacity that has greatly influenced my identity as an artist and my artistic work-- Questioning. My fascination with Lincoln Center Institute’s questioning began in the summer, when we were encouraged to ask so many questions and given so few answers. I soon discovered I learn as much, or more, purely from questioning as I do from receiving answers. Since the summer I have also been exploring asking questions for purposes other than receiving answers, or encouraging multiple answers, or letting the answer be unspoken, or having no answer at all. I think it’s natural for human to want and expect answers, and I’ve worked to shift my focus from the answer to the question. In my work, as well as feedback on works of art, I have come to long for questions.
For example, one of the Kenan Fellows (Greg) and I have been collaborating on
Community : Ratio, our Artistic Project to be presented by the Kenan Fellowship at the Clark Studio Theatre at Lincoln Center Institute this month. Last Saturday myself and two of my dancers showed an excerpt from
Community : Ratio at the Works in Progress showing at Dance New Amsterdam. Afterwards there was a short feedback session. In this feedback session it really hit me how much I have changed during the Fellowship. I wanted everyone to ask questions!
The moderator kept asking, “As a choreographer, what are your questions?” And then the choreographer would go on to state what the piece was about, and not ask any questions at all. This would lead the moderator to say “So your question is…”, and the choreographer had to reevaluate in order to come up with a question. However, by this time they had already told the audience and everyone giving feedback what they intended the piece to be about.
I had the urge to moderate and pull a plethora of only questions out of everyone. I wanted to create an environment similar to the one at LCI’s International Educator Workshop (InEW), open enough that the artists didn’t feel like they had to get defensive about their work and the questions asked. This open inquiry-based environment is indicative of LCI’s Aesthetic Education work. It encourages questions like: What did you notice? What are some questions you have about the piece? Did the piece bring to light any questions about one? Did you identify any patterns? Did you draw any personal connections? What movement/moment stood out? Can you specifically describe that movement/moment?
When my turn came to ask questions about my piece, I didn’t give any opinions, but just asked questions. Then the first feedback I got was a question. To me, this reiterated that an open and questioning environment encourages more openness and questioning! However, the audience member who asked the question wanted an answer from me. I reluctantly gave an “answer”, and then said, “But I would rather just go back and work with your question.” Also, after I had received my feedback, I gave them a little contextual research about the inspiration of the piece, the social structure of ants. I felt while this was sharing more information, it hopefully left them with even more questions.
Asking questions has also changed my experience as a “viewer” or “experiencer” of a work of art. Just last week, I was rereading a book, and instead of just reading it, I thought, “She could have written this sentence differently, maybe this way.” I’ve always enjoyed this book; it is well-written; but my new discovery was that it could easily have been written another way. This was a mini-revelation; I often recognize good writing or bad writing, but rarely drop the judgment and imagine the possibilities of how it could be written. Often the ideas in books will challenge me and encourage me to draw my own conclusion based on what is said, but the value of this idea was rewriting exploring a new possibility; again, not necessarily better or worse, but different. This experience reminded me of a quote that Maxine Greene, LCI’s Philosopher-in-Residence, said when we spoke with her last Friday; as I remember it: “Imagination is just having the willingness to look at something differently.”
When I think back to my experience as a viewer, I think about the beginning of the fall, when I went to all of the Fall for Dance shows at City Center, mostly with my mentor, Lynn Brown. Fall for Dance presented five shows of four twenty-minute pieces by four different companies each night, so I got to see twenty different companies in two weeks. I look back to the experience and remember noticing what people talked about at intermission, and noting that the viewers were not necessarily talking about the pieces that were aesthetically pleasing.
In one specific instance there were two pieces before intermission, one ballet piece which everyone agreed was pretty and well-executed, and one piece that no one was completely satisfied with. We spent the entire intermission creating meaning for the latter piece, questioning it, reevaluating, identifying patterns-- in short, practicing the Capacities with this work of art. The first piece, which everyone agreed was “better”, was not questioned any further.
This example showed me that I get from pieces what I invest in them, and practicing the Capacities is a way to invest more deeply in the work of art. I’ve also found that, as a viewer, it is important to me to notice and experience the piece, but it’s also important to take a step back and notice what I am noticing, and identify those patterns, and begin to question my identity and habits as a viewer. It’s interesting now to go back and note what I remember from all of those performances experiences with Lynn this fall and summer. What would I remember if mentioned? Is it more important to enjoy or remember?
At LCI I had the opportunity to see a few works of art multiple times, another experience that has proved valuable to me as a viewer. I started to be aware of digging deeper, and noticed the different facets I was discovering with each showing. I also began to note how much of the interpretation came from the viewer. When I saw a work of art more than once, I intentionally changed where I was sitting, and I was aware of the different moods and emotions I was already entering the space with, and how these aspects of myself affected my experience with the piece.
Many of the aspects that resonate for me as an artist also powerfully affect me as a person. The Capacities are important to me, and I often find them relating to my daily life. In the transition to the city, living with ambiguity has been very important. I didn’t know where I was going to take class, how I was going to motivate myself, what kinds of artists I wanted to surround myself with, or really anything about this new and exciting city. Instead of stressing and forcing things to happen, I learned to accept the ambiguity as a learning opportunity and flow with the opportunities this newness presented. As earlier stated, questioning has also been very important in my artistic career, but it has also become an integral part of my daily life. From questioning statements made in conversation and art to going a different route on the subway, questioning has led me to appreciate and live more presently. Another capacity that has helped me be present in daily life is noticing deeply. Noticing deeply gently forces me to be in the moment that I am noticing, the present.
All of the Capacities lead to another aspect of Aesthetic Education that has affected me personally, “wide-awakeness”. I think “wide-awakeness” is the goal of many artists, religions, morals, philosophies and ways of life. Being wide awake also doesn’t mean having a better imagination, or being more creative than the next person, but simply being open to seeing, and open to seeing things differently. This resonates with everything from human rights to artwork to collaboration to creation. I truly believe being open and authentic are two of the most important qualities to any being, qualities that are only possible when we are aware and awake. The Capacities are all ways to practice being wide awake in your artistic and daily life.
As I end this phase of the Fellowship, I continue to have more questions, and I would like to continue my experience and relationship with Aesthetic Education. One of my biggest questions for myself is something Maxine Greene mentioned in her talk with us, the title of Aesthetic Education. Why is it called Aesthetic Education? I see why it’s not art appreciation, among of variety of other things, but I started to think about why it IS Aesthetic Education. In the dictionary, all definitions of aesthetic have to do with beauty. In a traditional sense I find many works of art compelling that are not “beautiful”. Or is the work of art beautiful if it is compelling, even if it’s not beautiful in the traditional sense? What is beauty? Is it awareness education? Awakeness education? How does awareness inform our imagination? Is the “education” a sense of what is aesthetic without qualifying or quantifying it?
As I end the second phase at Lincoln Center Institute, I realize how much I have learned and how much more there is to learn. I will continue to apply the Capacities to my life as an artist, experiencer/viewer, and being. I’m excited to see what the next phase will bring.
Note from the Blog Administrator: Lincoln Center Institute's Capacities for Imaginative Learning are a guiding system used by schools teaching with LCI's method across the curriculum. For a list and more information on the Capacities, please visit www.lcinstitute.org.