This week, curatorial
advisor Anna Drozdowski interviews Local Dance History Project artist Ishmael
Houston-Jones, offering an inside peek into the creative development of the
artist’s work.
Anna Drozdowski: Tell me about DEAD, in two sentences.
Ishmael
Houston-Jones: When
my late mother saw DEAD for the first time her only comment was, “Bess Truman
isn’t dead.” My reply was, “But she will be one day.”
What was happening in 1980 (or
thereabouts) that was important to your artistic growth? Ishmael: By 1980 I had left Philadelphia. I moved to New York on
Thanksgiving Day 1979. During the 1970s when I lived here, besides the Ballet,
the main players on the dance scene were Group Motion, Zero Moving Co.,
Philadanco, Juba, Arthur Hall’s Afro American Dance Ensemble, South Street
Dance Company, Joan Kerr Dance Company, Sybil Dance
Company and Ann Vachon/Dance Conduit. Toward the end of the decade there was a movement of independent choreographers
many gathered around Terry Fox’s studio in Old City. I taught and rehearsed
there, as did Terry, of course. Jano Cohen, Wendy Hammerstrom, Anne Marie
Mulgrew and others were part of a core of artists centered on the Church Street
Loft. Terry lived there with composer Jeff Cain so there were always many
musicians on the scene as well. At this time Old City was transitioning from
being a rather desolate district of light manufacturing and warehouses to an artists’
neighborhood. It was still possible to find really cheap live/work spaces so
there were a lot of visual artists living and making work in the area.
Ishmael Houston-Jones and Michael Biello today; image by Jacques-Jean Tiziou / www.jjtiziou.net
Michael
Biello, with whom I’d danced in Group Motion and a ceramicist by training set
up his workshop/gallery on North Third Street. Bricolage Theater came into
existence and seemed to be comprised of as many visual artists as actors. Etage
and The Wilma Project and a little later The Painted Bride had homes in Old
City at the time. The
organization Old City Arts grew and acted as an umbrella that united this band
of like-minded but disparate individuals into a real artists community. Toward
the end of the 70s large scale outdoor projects like “Wear White at Night” took
place in the streets, alleys and highway construction sites in the
neighborhood. These involved dancers, choreographers, sculptors, painters,
directors, musicians and others from the newly born Old City Arts Community. It
was an exciting time and it seemed to be possible to be an independent dance
artist, not affiliated with one of the companies and present one’s work in much
the same way an individual painter would have a gallery show. There were always
other dancers around to pick up for particular projects and other
choreographers for whom to dance. It just seemed that outside of the Old City
bubble that was less possible. The overall Philadelphia dance scene was still
organized around the Companies. In
order to get shown in one of the few venues one had to be a part of that
system. It was a surprise and an anomaly when the shows of independent
choreographers were presented at Annenberg. I left for New York right after
this because the opportunities for an independent choreographer seemed much
greater there.
Michael Biello and Ishmael Houston-Jones, circa 1980
We spoke briefly about the idea of experimental dance – do you have a thought
about how this title applies to your work then/now?
Ishmael: Back then, 1972 – 1980, improvisation seemed to be a radical break
from what was happening in the Philadelphia dance scene. Terry Fox had a
steadfast commitment to it and that rubbed off onto me. Terry, Jeff Cain and I
had a loose ensemble called “A Way of Improvising,” which meant we (with
others) would get together a couple of times a week and jam intensely and then
convince the Bride to give us a show in which very little was ever planned in
advance. We knew what time we’d begin; we knew the show would (probably) be
longer than five minutes but shorter than two hours. But other than that, very
little was premeditated. This seemed to be the most natural way of approaching
music and dance to us at the time. But outside of our circle, our shows were
met with a large degree of skepticism and not with a lot of respect.
By
the mid-1970s Terry, Jeff and I each decided that we wanted to make pieces that
were more than the pure music/dance open improvs. Jeff made some remarkable
absurdist theater pieces, Terry began exploring more narrative in her work as
well as making site specific works for theater and film and I began working in
Contact Improvisation as well as forming Two Men Dancing with Michael Biello
and Dan Martin which used dance, music and narrative to examine gay male
themes. All of these explorations still seemed to be outside the mainstream of
what was happening within the greater Philly dance scene.
Describe Terry Fox to
someone who hasn’t met her.
Ishmael: Back in the 70s when
Terry had her studio on Church Street in Old City, there was a record store at
the end of block on Third Street that had a poster of Patti Smith in the window. It was Patti
circa “Horses” wearing jeans, a white shirt and sneakers in 4 or 5 different
poses. When I first started coming to the studio to take Terry’s class and to
jam, I was positive that that poster was of Terry not Patti. There was
something punk rock about Terry. But not the hard edges, dyed hair, tattooed
and pierced punk rock. She was gentler, more refined but just as radical in her
dance making as Patti was in her music.
At the same time, Terry is one of the most self-effacing people I know. It is her least attractive quality. She has spent her entire adult life making remarkable work as an artist, mentoring a generation of artists as a teacher and creating extraordinary opportunities for others as an administrator. But she never wants to take credit for any of it. Very Protestant.
Also
we have the same birthday, June 8, so I feel a special kinship with her and we
shared some very special parties together.
You work with students
and emerging dance makers a lot. What have you learned from them and your new
collaborators on this project?
Ishmael: Working with Gregory
Holt, John Luna, Scott McPheeters and William Robinson was curious but easy.
First, they are really talented and generous individuals who gave a lot to this
project. They all have their own dance lives here and that is a good thing.
What is curious is that “What We’re Made Of” was made in a very particular time
with a very particular demographic. Gay men in their 20s, post-Stonewall,
pre-AIDS. And while these four men are in their 20s (three of the four identify
as Gay/Queer), the era in which they’ve grown up is a whole generation away
from that in which we who made the piece came of age.
The
other difference is that they are well-trained dancers. This has had its
advantages and disadvantages in recreating the piece. In some ways they perform
the dance sequences “better” than Michael, Tonio Guerra, Jeff McMahon and I did
in the original. But the piece was always about more than the dancing and it
has been a happy challenge for us to try to teach the attitudes and histories
from which the material originated.
Name your preferred
mode of transportation.
Ishmael: In New York, bicycle (March
thru November). David Brick gave me a girls’ pink Schwinn named Debbie. For
long distances, trains. Or road trips in cars if someone else is driving (I’ve
never had a license). Have rediscovered the bus now that they have WiFi. Hate
planes and will do almost anything not to fly.
What is the question
that you’re never asked, but excited to answer?
Ishmael: “How can one tell
when a sow is in heat and what does one do when one finds out that she is?” Or:
“Were you nervous teaching dance to soldiers who had their rifles propped
against the studio wall.”
What has remained the
same in the past 30 years of dance-making?
Ishmael: My work is still
improv based, though that doesn’t seem to be so radical now. I teach
improvisation at Sarah Lawrence College and am in charge of the Improvisation
Curriculum at the American Dance Festival. Improv is now a part of most dance
training, but is still usually given a less prominent place than “technique.” I
still use spoken words in my work, which I began doing in the 70s in
Philadelphia. I’ve made seven pieces with the novelist Dennis Cooper. I like
making work that challenges both my audience and me.
Look out for more interviews with series artists. Have your own Q&A
questions? Email infophiladanceprojects [dot] org to submit.