In Wobbly Dance's new film, Grant Miller, Yulia
Arakelyan and Erik Ferguson practice butoh — a
meditative, gestural Japanese dance form — in
a natural setting. The film will also feature an
original score by independent northwest duo
Sweetmeat. Photo by Kamala Kingsley.
Yulia was looking for a way to control the
time duration, and for the freedom to go
back and refine things without dangerous
physical exertion.”
Arakelyan found the solution after participating in a long-distance collaborative
project involving dancers in three different
cities. “As part of our process, the three of
us kept a daily dance diary for one month.
Each day, I filmed, edited and posted a
dance video to our YouTube channel. I
was using a really old camera ... on a really
old and slow computer, but I loved it,” she
recalls.
Using film allowed Wobbly to direct the
audience’s attention to the wheelchairusing performers’ smaller, subtler movements that might otherwise be missed by
viewers seated at the typical distance in
most venues. It also helped Wobbly escape
the boundaries of the theater itself — an
important factor, given the subject matter
they wanted to explore.
“WE WANT TO MAKE OUR
ARTISTS VISIBLE — HERE
THEY ARE. LOOK AT THEM.”
“We’ve been working for 10 years with
the aesthetic of [the postwar Japanese
dance form] butoh, which is suffused with
natural imagery, full of the essence of big
natural forces, storms and toxic things and
large animals — things that create extreme
sensations,” explains Ferguson, who’s
recently been reading the work of disability
scholars on the way different bodies and
mobility devices can limit access to nature.
“For a long time, we’ve been bringing
nature indoors, so we finally went outside
to work with nature! We can shoot on
location outside, and include the grass, the
trees, the elements.”
With fellow disabled performer Grant
Miller, they’ve created what Ferguson calls
“a lot of lush, still-life natural imagery. I
come up with all these images, but can’t
tell where it’s going to go,” he says. “Then
Yulia comes with traditional dance training, so it all balances out.”
Arakelyan echoes him: “Erik and I work so
differently; I start with music, or explorations of the body moving, where Erik
approaches it from imagery. We complement each other.”
Another collaborator, Portland filmmaker
Ian Lucero, has helped them flesh out
shots and scenes. “We went to him with
all this imagery, and he never once lost
patience and said ‘How do you expect me
to put this to film?’ ” Ferguson laughs. “We
spent basically a week of shooting six hours
a day.”
The film eschews a traditional narrative
in favor of three scenes, including a mad
tea party, wild bodies, and a ritual shrine
scene involving frankincense and dry ice.
But the primary subjects throughout are
the dancers.
“I love disabled people,” Ferguson says.
“The diversity of the disabled form never
ceases to excite me. This film gave us the
opportunity to create a unique environment where other people can see the unearthly beauty of disabled bodies, a world
wh