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Outcast (2019)

Outcast: Part 1

This bit of queer art was taken from my life as a gay man with autism in recent years. One feels that homosexuals who also identify as ‘autistic’ feel socially unaccepted within the LGBT community not because of their sexual orientation, but their invisible disability. This work was developed with support from Ludus Dance through the ‘Occupied’ Associate Artist Scheme.

 

Rehearsals began focusing on gesture, shuffling and circling the pelvis. One gestural sequence represented the characteristics and traits demonstrated by a person with autism. Chronologically, these were inflexibility to change of routine, sensitivity to taste and sound, unintentional rudeness, and the inability to read non-verbal communication, hidden shades of meaning or body language.

 

From there, the creative process shifted on nouns describing my experience. I found I got more done when I planned movement to devise outside of the studio space. For instance, explosion – a violent shattering or blowing a part of something such as violent emotion, especially anger. Communicating through metaphor, I thought of the structure of how an explosion is caused instead of expressing emotion.

 

Another noun was abduction – the action of forcibly taking someone away against their will. From the word ‘abduction’, I thought of a kidnapping by aliens as a connotation. To gain inspiration for that sequence, I searched for images of aliens. Most results were from the sci-fi/horror flick! I could transit from one position to another, repeating a grabbing gesture whilst maintaining angular quality.

 

Outcast was presented at 7 platforms: Slapdash at Ludus, Derelict Mayhem at the University of Central Lancashire, Innovations at Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Emergency at Z-Arts in Manchester, and MDI’s LEAP Festival with Homotopia at the Unity Theatre followed by Mother’s Bloomers at the Royal Exchange Theatre.

 

According to my notes taken at Slapdash, the costume was interestingly simple, but not too simple. I wanted it to be androgynist, so I started off wearing a women’s leotard in forest green. This was not enough for one who advised me that one half of the costume should be a suit and tie, and the other half should be a dress. Using the rainbow-print Pride flag I already had folded up in my bedroom, that was made into a skirt for Derelict Mayhem. The make-up was achieved.

 

The pace was rushed as there was no time for the onlooker to be emotionally interested nor invested. Outcast demonstrated a strength in choreographic gesture which there was not enough of. In its early stages, Outcast was formulaic and structured, in terms of its movement style. Based on nouns which describe my experience of being a gay man with autistic tendencies, all those miniature sequences got replaced with new material with the use of British Sign Language (BSL) as a creative strategy.

 

Shadows generated power. I used multicoloured lighting illuminated from downstage (audience’s perspective). It reminded me of Wayne McGregor’s Tree of Codes (2015).

 

At Slapdash, the work-in-progress was danced to an emotional piece of music, detailing isolation and an attempt of breaking out. It was the Elevator Song by Keaton Henson. I always intended to set Outcast as a final product to Healthcare/Eurydice’s Heel/All That You Love Will Be Eviscerated by Ben Frost because the chosen accompaniment in that order narrate my story accurately.

 

Reflective questions for consideration were who am I? How do we resonate structured movement style?

In the latter half of the process, I found BSL an effective tool for finding new gestures. www.SignBSL.com offered more options and varieties than www.britishsignlanguage.com

 

I made a long list of relevant words up to 2.5 pages. Again, these were words which described my life as a gay man with autism mixed up in order of when they happened. The first page resulted in 3.5 minutes of movement material. As it progressed in the build-up towards Derelict Mayhem at UCLAN in May 2019, Outcast was between 8-9 minutes in duration.

 

Following a successful run, Outcast was, as according to its audience feedback:

 

“Brilliant piece. Speaks well about LGBTQ+ and autism awareness. A lot of emotion.”

 

“Beautiful and bold. I enjoyed the creation of language and the balance of the contemporary form.”

 

 

 

 

“Amazing choreography! Loved the whole thing. Very bold.”

 

“Charismatic and considered! Could watch for longer, it was trance-like.”

 

“Amazing with a great concept, the story told through movement – great. Costume was beautiful too!”

 

Donald Hutera – Dance Critic of the Times – commented from Innovations Dance Platform in Edinburgh, dating August 2019: “There was a definite code to be cracked here that I found engaging and watchable + the framing text at start and finish helped place the work.”

 

I restructured those words in alphabetical order when I returned to Ludus for further explorations.

Another observer felt quite detached watching me. Although they enjoyed watching my body move, they were not clear on what I was trying to communicate to them. In my conversation with them, I clearly explained what I was trying to investigate and what interested me. But the observer did not see this translated in what I shared with them. The use of gesture was interesting, but again, the observer did not know what anything represented or meant. Perhaps there could have been a way I could build upon the gestural work to develop and build movements from the original gesture such as developing a series of motifs that develop from the original gestures.

 

Further questions were, “Who is your audience for your work? What do you want them to understand as a result of watching your piece?”

 

“Why are you making the work? What do you want this piece of art to communicate?”

 

“Which parts feel poignant to you? How can you make those clearer for an audience?”

 

“How can you let us as an audience into your world?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prioritizing the LGBT community, the issue I wanted to raise was how one feels that homosexuals who also identify as ‘autistic’ feel socially unaccepted within that society not because of sexual orientation, but their invisible disability, judging from my own experience. Outcast was also for anyone who feels the same experience by being in a similar position. It was a poignant piece and I wanted the audience to see, feel and be that poignancy with me by watching. The aim was to raise autism awareness further for those who remain unfamiliar with the condition and its theories.

 

Autism is a lifelong cognitive disability, affecting how somebody makes sense of the world and communicates with people around them. Autism impacts social interaction, communication, personal interests and behaviour. Over the years, gay rights have dramatically improved, however members of the LGBTQIA+ community still face political challenges, including discrimination and stigma, daily. But for someone diagnosed with autism, it can be 10 (if not, 100) times harder as being a homosexual or bisexual can bring more challenges (Fearn, 2018).

 

The other personal issue of making this work was to reignite the failed friendships between me and too few members of the LGBT community. I wanted this piece of art to tell our story in the form of a solo dance work. As a work-in-progress, Outcast already illustrated some narrative in some respects as according to its feedback from recent platforms and it was a powerful performance charged with emotion. People said that the story told through movement was great, the creation of language was beautiful, bold and enjoyable, and there was a lot of emotion. Most importantly, it spoke a lot about autism awareness. But what was beautifully bold about the creation of language? Why should it have been enjoyable to watch, should there not have to have been an enjoyment?

 

This piece was gestural with influences by BSL which could be used as a choreographic strategy for finding new motifs although that may be obvious to the observer. In terms of clarifying the meaning behind these gestures, I felt inclined to mystify them. But how? It felt like the first half of Outcast was more poignant than the latter half. Specifically, there were select gestures which represented fright, secrecy, exposure, panic (or insecurity), friendship, separation, ‘insane in the brain’ madness and misery. Other than that, it identified an individual movement style which looked experimental. If that was also how I wanted the choreographic style of this piece to be, albeit. Did I want it to be poignant after all? What exactly is poignancy?

 

I think I was already immersing the onlooker into my world by just being myself. As it stands, there was already that invisible fourth wall between the performer and the audience who were not yet emphasizing what it’s like to be me. Visualize yourself at a carnival festival that is shared with members of the community who identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender and they are attending that event for a social gathering. A part of me still wants to alienate those who do not consider themselves as theatregoers or whoever wants to watch me dance about it.

Emergency19 Adam John Roberts TD00046.JP

What I was communicating was a list of these gestures in alphabetical order. While I agree the movement vocabulary remained somewhat formulaic and aesthetic as seen in a technique class, I actually liked it.

 

I was already applying repetition and development of motif in extension to the structure of all relative gestures which described what happened when in that order.

 

This work was also developed with mentoring support from Elinor Randle – Artistic Director of Tmesis Theatre and physical theatre practitioner – and Yael Flexer who helped apply the finishing touches.

 

According to one, there was honesty in such originally powerful material of which was also similar as per the music that could be irritating and unhelpful. It was emotional, but what exactly was the journey? Whatever that was, there was evidence of struggle, there needed to be room for breath and an element of spoken word would help. 3-out-of-5 selected W’s for logical consideration were who, what and why? Then again, who needs to know the story?

 

On the other hand, the other thought the movement was demanding and complex yet original. The structure given to self was interesting, but what was the importance? Could text be contextualising for people, whether that be projected subtitles or audio descriptions? Why was gender-fluidity important? Who cares what ‘normal’ means?

 

In collaboration with Yael, we devised a movement sequence based on excerpts of text from the picture quote below:

 

“When someone treats you like you’re just one of many options, help them narrow their choice by removing yourself from the equation. Sometimes, you have to try not to care, no matter how much you do. Because sometimes you can mean almost nothing to someone who means so much to you. It is not pride, it’s self-respect. Don’t expect to see positive changes in your life if you surround yourself with negative people. Don’t give part-time people a full-time position in your life. Know your value and what you have to offer, and never settle for anything less than what you deserve.”

 

To open and close this event, I began by entering and applying small gestures and ended with more of those small gestures before exiting.

 

When I applied for MDI’s LEAP Fringe in October 2019, I was required to demonstrate which song represents my piece as part of the application. It was a song by Gloria Gaynor (1974) because I am what I am. I am my own special creation. The spoken words to begin and conclude the work was “I am good. I am strong. I am worthy. I belong. I am useful. I am true. I am somebody…”

 

By the time of Innovations (Edinburgh), it was totally transformed, resources were used, and it proved the move to BSL was exceptionally rich. There was a recognition of what the audience wanted and a shift between automation and human emotion. Overtime, there may need to be the replacement of technical transitions, further edits and refinement. Connotations were the entrapment in a system of sadness and anger, and BSL of course! Autism was seen more than sexual orientation.

Questions I would like to have asked were as follows:

 

“What do you currently understand from watching this solo choreography?”

 

“Which sections look and feel poignant to you?”

 

“How am I immersing you as an audience into my world as of yet?”

 

“According to some of the feedback from recent platforms, people said that the creation of language is beautiful, bold and enjoyable. What do you think is beautifully bold about this creation of language? Why should it be enjoyable to watch, should there not have to be an enjoyment?”

 

“How would you mystify these gestures and their meanings?”

 

“What does poignancy mean to you?”

 

“How could text/spoken word support the piece?”

 

“What does each gesture mean to you?”

 

“Is there any lighter music that you would recommend instead of Ben Frost and if so, what?”

Outcast: Part 2

References

 

Fearn, N. (2018) Autistic and LGBT: This is what it’s like to be queer and have an autistic spectrum disorder [online]

Available at: https://www.pinknews.co.uk/2018/05/16/this-is-how-autism-impacts-the-lgbt-community/

[Accessed: 24th August 2018]

 

McGregor, W. (2015) Tree of Codes [10th July, 2015 at the Opera House, Manchester]

 

TheQuietStorm11 (2012) I AM WHAT I AM (Lyrics) – GLORIA GAYNOR [online video]

Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEVKkIWbPrY

[Accessed: 22nd July 2019]

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