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Co-creators Naishi Wang and Jean Abreu have yet to meet in person
Jean Abreu and Naishi Wang are co-creators, paired through the National Arts Centre’s Visiting Dance Artist program. They are currently developing their international collaboration, Deciphers – but they’ve never actually met in person. As we join the Zoom call, I’m aware this is how UK-based Abreu and Toronto’s Wang have always communicated: through screens. But even before they knew each other, they knew of each other, remotely connected by social media and a shared dance community. An electronic introduction came later (unrelated to the National Arts Centre project) through Guy Cools, who fittingly became the dramaturge for Deciphers. “It was quite apparent from the first exchange,” Abreu says. “There was a natural synergy between us.” Wang agrees. Because of his familiarity with Abreu’s work, he says it felt like they already knew each other: “Like he’s my long-lost brother.” They attribute the fast connection to similar artmaking sensibilities and values. “You could … say we were just flirting with each other on the internet,” Abreu says while laughing. “Creative flirting.”
By the time the NAC approached Wang, he was already well acquainted with Abreu. “NAC Dance has been following the career of Naishi for the last few years, and we have been interested in working with him,” said Cathy Levy, executive producer of NAC Dance, in an email. “We thought he’d be a perfect candidate for our Visiting Dance Artist program.” Their perfect candidate was ready and waiting with a project to develop – and a partner already on board.
Under ideal circumstances, Wang and Abreu would have met in Ottawa last May. Instead, their relationship remained digital as they embarked on the residency by exchanging emails and sources of inspiration. The pace and structure of the cyber-platform actually “allow[ed] us to deepen our knowledge of each other and deepen our knowledge of what we wanted to do,” says Abreu. After each email, they would absorb and then discuss its contents, tracing what emerged and how it might inform their work. Over time, the process of sharing and collection generated project ideas they continue to refine.
An important aspect of Deciphers – and their compatibility – is their twinned history. “We are on the parallel path of immigrants,” Wang notes. He was born in Changchun, China, and relocated to Canada to attend The School of Toronto Dance Theatre; Abreu lives in the United Kingdom, having moved there from Brazil to train at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance. Abreu says that since the two of them are immigrants, they carry a lot of cultural history and differing perspectives within them “and so much that can be misunderstood because of the different types of translations that we already carry,” he adds.
“In a way, ‘decipher’ means translation,” Wang explains: translations between languages, cultures and experiences felt and conveyed through the body. “Deciphering” is both internal and linked to how we relate to and understand others – a process often fraught with miscommunication. “How does the language of the body really and truly speak to [an]other?” Abreu asks. That interest in what and how the body expresses is why Wang feels they “are making bodily poetry.”
Having known each other only virtually, what will it be like to finally meet in February for the residency’s next phase? Abreu responds immediately: “I hope we don’t hate each other!” After a laugh, he adds that he doesn’t think that’s likely. For Wang, given the global uncertainty, it’s not guaranteed they will be able to meet as planned.
But he makes clear, speaking with gentle insistence, how much he anticipates it: “I want to hold my practice in the studio, not only in my bedroom,” he says. “The travelling time from my place to a studio, or from a hotel in Ottawa to the NAC, offers me … a ceremonial way to get ready, translating my daily body into my creative body.” There is an eagerness for both to meet and shake the feeling of containment familiar to most anyone during the pandemic.
The consequence of this period has felt like a buildup, and the next stage of their collaboration – in actual space and togetherness – will be a form of release, a way to artistically channel the collective months of lockdown. “When we’re finally able to reach that space, I think we’ll have a wealth of starting points,” Abreu says. “Things that need to come out.”
Dylan Schoenmakers is a freelance writer and editor working in Toronto.
As a Pilates and yoga instructor, I’ve always had a passion for giving verbal feedback. I’ve never been a dancer, but I’ve often been compared to ballet teachers for having a particular eye for alignment.
Before we talk about anything, let’s establish there is no perfect alignment. Everyone’s body is different, so our understanding of concepts like “neutral spine” has to evolve. Teaching these days requires more openness and less of that sharp focus on certain angles and actions. Remember that learning doesn’t stop because you’re a teacher, and adapting for more bodies is important. With that in mind, I’ve compiled some ideas on how to teach when physical adjusting is no longer an option.