Valencia, 2019, a queer tango festival: I had a first dance with [—], a transman I did not know. While I began with a typical “lead or follow” gesture, he offered only a leading position, and, intuiting that he wished to wholly occupy a “traditional” leading role, coded masculine, I stepped wholly into an extremely “feminine” mode of following: qualities I did not articulate at the time but might now gloss as extreme permeability and a kind of steady softness, an extreme availability and willingness I rarely, if ever, deploy while dancing with cis, straight men. Feeling increasingly sure of my intuition, noting the assertion in his lead, I melted a little further into his arms, softening the muscle tone in my chest, letting each lead reverberate through my body. Though we did not speak of it then, he later confirmed that our dynamic had given him something desired but not always offered.

I write. I edit. I teach. I curate conferences. I am a full professor at Arizona State University (ASU), a large research-one public university, specializing in dance history, theory, and ethics. Here I reflect on these different processes, recognizing that these labels represent different avenues by which I manifest larger existential concerns. Driving this self-analysis is the cancer diagnosis I received in January 2023 and subsequent grueling treatments that interrupted my planned research agenda. Instead, what became urgent was making meaning of the strategies that have allowed me to navigate my academic career to date. In the process, I realized that I wanted to cultivate a poetic ‘voice’ to more accurately convey the underlying creative life force that drives all areas of my life and is helping me to survive. I hope through this process to inspire others in higher education to take stock of their efforts, especially in the face of major changes in their lives and the dance field more generally.

In November 2016, Tatiana Navka—former Olympic champion and wife of Dmitry Peskov, Vladimir Putin’s press secretary—and her skating partner, actor Andrey Burkovsky, performed a Holocaust-themed ice dance on Ice Age, a Russian competition show similar to Dancing with the Stars.1 Sporting concentration camp uniforms emblazoned with Jewish stars, their mouths frozen into grins, the pair skated a routine inspired by Roberto Benigni’s 1997 Holocaust film Life Is Beautiful. Although well-received in Russia, the performance caused an international uproar. There were dozens of stories in mainstream Western news sources, Jewish and Israeli newspapers, and ironic commentary from Jewish comedians including Sarah Silverman (“Oh those wacky Holocaust victims”), Michael Ian Black (“This might be offensive if they didn’t take such care to recreate all the wonderful ice dancing going on at Aushwitz [sic],” and the Daily Show’s Adam Lowitz (“Judges can’t give Holocaust victims bad scores, they’ve been through enough”). There was also swift condemnation from Holocaust and Jewish studies scholars on twitter and a pointed response from Miri Regev, then Israel’s Culture Minister, who proclaimed that Holocaust themes are “not for dance and not for reality,” adding, “Not one of the six million danced.”2

This article is an anthropological exploration of the role of dance in tourism-led entrepreneurship and tourism-led mobilities in Cuba. Based on ethnographic research and employing an autoethnographic lens, the article examines the imaginaries and gendered performances of Cubanness that play out in touristic settings as part of dance trips organized on the island for international tourists. Women are the main target audience for these dance programs, which oftentimes reveal the reproduction of racial stereotypes that contributed to the growing popularity of Cuba as a tourist destination. Dance teachers come to establish a broad spectrum of relations that are influenced by inequalities of resources and unequal access to mobility, since it is the (usually) white European and North American dancing tourists who take up space as central dancing figures, co-creating the cultural script that fetishizes Cuban Black bodies, especially in settings such as salsa schools or popular dance venues.

Ananya Dance Theatre generates a framework for “contemporary dance” as choreography which enacts its solidarity with the land of Native peoples. Artistic director Ananya Chatterjea mobilizes her contemporary aesthetic, “Yorchhā,” through the company's alliance with Indigenous peoples’ worldviews on land and water protection, especially through their relations with Dakota and Anishinaabe persons. Dance analysis of the pieces “Moreechika: Season of Mirage” (2012), “Shaatranga: Women Weaving Worlds” (2018), and “Shyamali: Sprouting Words” (2017) shapes contemporary dance through its engagement with Native persons’ caretaking labor for the environment and the position of these relations in the choreography. A practice of humility emerges as the cornerstone of solidarity in contemporary dance due to the necessity for longstanding Native invitation and engagement, Indigenous narratives and embodiment in the dance pieces, and lessons learned from the pitfalls in intersecting techniques such as Ananya Dance Theatre's with Native people's lifeways and knowledges.

Deportations and the threat of removal are choreographic strategies of the nation-state's ever-growing monopoly of movement through border securitization and immigration enforcement, which persists into the twenty-first century. While literature and the visual arts have received critical and popular attention by considering forced family separations, dance remains overlooked. Analyzing dance performances that relate directly to deportation teaches us not only about the painful impact of forced removal: it instructs us to decode, move and maintain relationships as aliens and citizens amid the increasing control of motion in the United States and the cruel joke offered by a nation of immigrants.

The dancer Mademoiselle Mercédès performed in the most important music halls of the Parisian Belle Époque, such as the Folies-Bergère and the Olympia. Her exotic pseudonym reflects the Hispanophilia of this period in France, but she was neither a Spanish dancer nor a native imitator. On the contrary, she displayed great versatility as a dancer and actively participated in the transition to modernity with the dancer Loïe Fuller and the choreographer Madame Mariquita. However, who is behind this artist's name? This research reveals that at least three women used this nickname and only one of them has been previously identified: Julienne Mathieu (1874–1943), who, after her stage career, became one of the most prolific actresses in early cinema. This case study explores the implications of using a pseudonym by a secondary figure in the dance world in fin-de-siècle Paris.

This article focuses on how dance companies have restaged three of the original automata characters from the ballet Coppélia (Arthur Saint-Léon, 1870), described as the “Negro,” the “Moor,” and the “Chinaman.” In conversation with scholarship on the racialization of objects and the object-ification of humans, I claim these characters embody and reenact the ontological effects of slavery and colonialism, in which notions of human and object collapse into one another. I further argue that such processes vary among the roles, illuminating ways the white colonialist perspective constructs the imagined Chinese body differently than the Black body through human-object relations. As a contribution to discussions within the ballet world surrounding the use of blackface and yellowface, this article exposes how ballet choreography both participates in and reveals object-centered acts of racism through embodiment practices.

Human rights scrutiny processes in some Australian parliaments require consideration of whether rights-limiting legislation is reasonable, justifiable, and proportionate. The Queensland Human Rights commissioner has raised concerns of this becoming a “perfunctory ‘tick and flick’ exercise” in which decision-makers perform the “dance steps to [rights] derogation”—a concern emulated by others. Taking this notion of “tick and flick” and “dance steps” literally, this article explores movement and form in the composition of parliamentary human rights scrutiny reports. Drawing from Marie Jacob and Anna Macdonald's notion of legal documents as material, somatic, and metaphorical forms, this article analyzes the choreographic and calligraphic forms in these reports. Through exploring the forms themselves alongside interview data about parliamentary human rights scrutiny practices, this article speculates on whether form has bearing on the process of parliamentary human rights scrutiny, and how form shapes the substance of both the reports and human rights themselves.

This article foregrounds imagination to consider how African diasporic conditions converge with choreographic expression. The analysis “un/maps” dominant understandings of the choreographic process of mid-twentieth-century African American choreographer-anthropologist Katherine Dunham by expanding Kamau E. Brathwaite's (1993) concept of Tidalectics beyond the Caribbean to the wider African diaspora and a distinctly Caribbean comprehension of diasporic imagination. Utilizing datasets and visualizations created by the project, Dunham's Data: Katherine Dunham and Digital Methods for Dance Historical Inquiry, this article traces how the concept of Brazil is imagined and reimagined within Dunham's archive from 1937 to 1962. In doing so, it considers the complex positionality of Dunham as both a pioneering minoritized woman navigating the politics of race, gender, and financial precarity, and someone who yielded their imperial privilege as a US citizen through their career to bring nuance to Dunham's narrative as a canonical dance figure.

In the 1840s, the polka craze established lead/follow partner dancing as the normative social dance structure in the Atlantic world. In the process, it imposed a choreographed performance of bourgeois heteropatriarchy (originally developed with the waltz) on Europe's colonies and post-colonies. However, a central mechanism of the lead/follow system in social partner dance is the woman's body attitude, and as the nature of that attitude changes, so do the associated dances. In the Americas, women acculturated to African-rooted principles of polycentricity disrupted the equilibrium of the lead/follow dynamic, catalyzing the creation of new partner dance forms and techniques. On the one hand, this resulted in an intensification of the lead/follow system such that men could now control and shape the dissociated parts of their partners’ bodies. On the other hand, it also seeded the fissioning and eventual dissolution of the dance partnership itself.

Contemporary interdisciplinary collaboration practices offer visions of new modes of assembly. This article traces a curatorial model of interdisciplinary collaboration, exploring how artists activate curation as a methodology of creation. I refer specifically to the creative practice of the award-winning Queer trans/mogrifying multidisciplinary artist and futurist Sage Ni'Ja Whitson, and their series The Unarrival Experiments. I reflect on Whitson's curatorial practice as a sacred methodology rooted in Yorùbá cosmologies, theatrical jazz aesthetic, and concepts of dark matter, superfluidity, and unarrival. I trace how Whitson's use of curatorial frameworks supports ease in the impossible, builds layers of multiplicity and simultaneity, resists institutional hegemony and power structures, and crafts systems of queer kinship and care for communities, ancestors, and futures. I outline the criteria of coexistence through which they imbue curatorial practices into their collaborations, generating what I describe as a “third space.” For Whitson, this fertile space of sustained difference is a portal to an alternate institution of darkness, interdependent sovereignty, and superfluidity. I conclude by unfolding the possibilities of Whitson's third space as a forward-facing methodology of how to move through the impossible together and envision new collective futures.

Motivated by Melissa Ziad's balletic protest within Algeria's Hirak demonstrations, this article recuperates a distinction between the right to assembly and the right to free speech, constitutional guarantees blurred under contemporary rhetoric of association. By applying methods of dance studies to legal interpretation, it shifts crowd theory away from an anxiety of touch toward a copresence that allows for constituent power of the people to be reclaimed. Therefore, it intervenes within a broader discourse of the legal humanities that privileges the logocentric over embodied ways of knowing.

This article explores the cultural figure of the ropedancer and focuses on the influential performance of Philippe Petit in two of his walks. The high-wire walker plays a significant role discussed within three frameworks: a philosophical and urban discussion offering interwoven perspectives; the iconic walk at the World Trade Center in New York in 1974; and Petit's high-wire crossing performed in Jerusalem's geopolitical context in 1987. Ropedancing is an “abyssal choreography”—a movement at a high altitude above the depth with maximum control on the verge of losing balance. As related to specific walks, this movement embodies a dialectic agency. It transcends local narratives but empowers and critically exposes them. It requires meticulous discipline and unbounded creativity, and it is linked to oppositional positions between which the ropedancer can unsettlingly fluctuate. This movement activates danger or crisis while moving over the abyss as a vector connecting places, times, and events.

Director Luca Guadagnino's film Suspiria (2018) depicts the dancer Susie Bannion joining a dance academy secretly run by a coven of witches in Berlin during the German Autumn of 1977. This article analyzes how Mary Wigman's Hexentanz II, contemporary dance, and horror film practices inform Susie's neo-expressionist movement form, which is also steeped in the discourse surrounding the RAF (Red Army Faction), the West German far-left militant organization, and fascism. I argue that “historical breathing”—breaths and sighs—takes on a sensorial mode by surveying the past and current situation of the dance school. By inhaling, Susie embodies the dance Volk (1948) and can feel its vexed choreographic history—its occult origins and Ausdruckstanz practices. Furthermore, her dance futilely attempts to comes to terms with the Nazi past but inevitably replicates the violence of the RAF.

Countering the historiographic under-representation of Greek modern dance, this article focuses on early twentieth-century dance artist Vassos Kanellos. Combining Western/European choreographic inputs and local, often traditional, elements, Kanellos rearticulated the inscription of Greek dance in historical time—beyond a sole focus on antiquity—and anchored it in a nationally marked space and in the specificity of a posited Greek “race.” Informed by new modernist studies, this article reads Kanellos's practice as a reflection of the country's process of constructing a hegemonic national identity against a background in which Greece constituted both Europe's subaltern periphery and the foundation of its genealogical narrative.

This article examines Antonia Mercé La Argentina's stay in Manila in 1929 and the creation of her solo La Cariñosa as a case study to analyze the place of Spanish dance as both colonizing and colonized on the basis of the cultural legacies since Romanticism, when Spanish dance was an exoticized and racialized “Other dance” in relation to the canon and hierarchies of Western dance. La Argentina's supposed homage to the Filipino people in the creation of a solo that stylized their national dance performed for Western audiences continued the exercise of colonial power. The result of those processes of appropriation would be the creation of a repertoire of “Hispanic essences” of that constructed postcolonial “community”; a catalogue equivalent to the rock-hard monumentality of a Hispanidad—the commemoration through Columbus statues and colonial architecture—now celebrated from the body, its performativity, its symbolism, and its gesture.

This article examines contrasting strategies that the practitioners of Acehnese dance in two Indonesian cities, Yogyakarta and Banda Aceh, sagely create to legitimize their participation in the arts in today's increasingly conservative religious climate in Indonesia. Islam in Yogyakarta has drifted away from a historically syncretic, localized form and toward a more conservative form. This shift has impacted Yogyakarta's Muslim dancers’ views on which kind of arts they deem appropriate to take part in. In particular, as they seek to maintain their religious identity and practice religious principles in order to be connected to a modern, globalized Islam, they choose to leave a local dance tradition for Acehnese dance, a tradition that originated in a province three thousand kilometers away. In Banda Aceh, the post-tsunami period (2004–present) sees religious leaders’ contestations toward the performing arts becoming part of the province's administrative system under sharia law, posing new challenges and risks.

This article explores the role a human skeleton played in the queering and shaping of dance modernism. In the early decades of the twentieth century, an important intervention propelling dance toward a modernist aesthetic while disrupting the regulatory norms of gender construction, began in a women's college gymnasium via a skeleton. Two impulses generate this archival-based inquiry: one that traces the history and symbolic formulations of nationalism, race, and gender that followed skeletons into the university as they anchored conceptualizations of the modernist dancing body; and another that locates the intervention of a queer body in dance through this skeleton.