GENDER BENDING QUEER PARTYWORM, ROTTERDAM 02.09probability praxis 18 of 28 waning gibbous
Interlocutors:Pasquale di Morizio, Manon la Décadence , Lu, Carlijn Bakker, Sanne van Driel, Olave Basabose, Dennis Snorremansbest night ever. The Hyenaz did a ritual performance of about an hour. It is entirely magical. Me and some of the others were so-called interlocutors. our job was basically to help the audience engage the ritual. which was participatory. So we basically were in the audience (the 4 of us) leading by example, participating in the magic and stuff. That was amazing already, to be able to see the energy and engagement of the audience sort of ripple through us, and back to us from them. The interlocutors were covered in a shiny armor like silver body paint. I was afraid that it would be reminiscent of armor, statues, robotic disconnection. But in the space it seemed to highlight our physicality instead. I felt very much protected by the bodypaint, as the energy rose and the many ripples collided, and the intentions became entirely tangible in the space. At some point, the Hyenaz invited us to yell out our intentions. At this point I had drifted to the stage and I was able to oversee the whole audience. The engagement had become total, the ripples united in one maelstrom of power, focused intention for a better world. It was like being in a temple of the body, body magic, body sacracity embodied. These wilful creatures of the oppressed, repressed, objectified, violenced, violated, erased and humiliaties bodies, were, before my eyes, transformed in both a sharp-edged sword, and harbor, havens for the lost, the hopeful, the loving, the hungry, the licking, the sucking and fucking. Sharp edged, cause I heard intentions that cut to the core of where we are not. I heard some call: “liberation” others “freedom”, others “solidarity”, I added “black liberation” in a cacophonic symphony of the angry, the clear-eyed and visionary queers in the room. By the time we invited people to dance blindfolded, guided and touched by others who are not blindfolded, I felt safe. I took one of the blindfolds and moved through the audience. I was caressed, bit, kissed, held, pushed down, pushed up, and I didn’t care. I wanted my shiny, silvery armor to be touched, smudged. I wanted to be felt. I remember vividly someone pressing a hairy, hard upper leg between my exposed buttcheeks. The pressure of the string I was wearing on my anus intensified, and it seemed like an upwards fountain of energy sprung up from prostrate or anus through to the crown of my head. It made me dizzy. Another memory is the hand that caressed and cocooned one of my cheeks. i leaned into it, challenging gravity, challenging the strength of the hand, challenging my own daring. I leaned in deeper and deeper, held nothing back. The hand, unseen, disembodied, met my challenge. it held all of me, gently and protectively. The hand guided me to my knees, my forehead to the floor; i took the opportunity to speak gratitude into the universe, for hands that caress and protect, that accept the dares we put to them, that reward our courage and trust, and have the strength to hold all of us. It was more than body magic to me. It was ancestral magic to me as well. when the ceremony started, i decided to call upon Imana, and my ancestors (who undoubtedly practiced the cult of Imana) to guide me through this moment. to give me the wisdom of movement and intention, so long lost now. Colonization in Burundi took away a spiritual system and technology that had been carefully crafted, tested and improved upon for centuries. I hoped that some of that wisdom and craft could be granted to them, in that moment. As the Burundi healers of old must have undoubtedly led and guided mass rituals, I felt confident that my ancestors would be up to the task of gifting me with the body language and visualisations necessary to be of service to the ritual participants. And they did, these undoubtedly queer ancestors of mine, they moved me, and offered me a tactile perception of unseens forces and energies coalescing and moving and concentrating, symbols and signs moved before my mind’s eye, power symbols and signs I am sure, I became a pillar of all that energy, I think. I have to be honest that my memory of the ritual is slowly starting to recede into, I suspect, the codes of my genetic programming, the inner lining of my hemoglobins, into a myriad of synaptic configurations, into the nape of my neck, the curve of my pelvis, the rise of my penis, the depth of my pallet. I think that that is the way of all that is true to the body, it must be absorbed into it, transmutated into life. I am going to be okay with that, I want to be okay with that, I want to embrace that that is the way of body magic. — Olave Basabose
This is a sound art workshop and collaborative laboratory facilitated by HYENAZ – xil and alfabus. We will work individually and collectively to develop sound art that responds to the experiences of those who gather as well our current context of migration, war, structural violence and collective mourning.
We will use a variety of tools, with an emphasis on free and open source software, to explore a variety of approaches to creating sound in an electronic music context, including the manipulation of field recordings through sampling, digital synthesis and vocal recordings. We will explore techniques of arrangement to create sonic landscapes from the sounds that emerge and experiment with how these works inspire dance and movement.
We will conduct the class in English but we can also translate for German language speakers. All participants are encouraged to use their first/home languages for recordings and original text compositions.
HYENAZ are familiar with Ableton, Bitwig and Ardour, among other software, and welcome any software that attendees are already familiar with.
All skill levels and all bodies are welcome.
Friday 13.10: from 16:00 – 20:00
Saturday 14.10: from 10 – 13:00; 15:00 – 19:00
Sunday 15.10: from 10 – 12:00; 14:00 – 16:00
Price Includes Workshop, accommodation, and food.
Earlybird Price: €130 (register by 15. September)
Full Price: €160
Our practice as HYENAZ is to develop soundscapes and digital synthesizers from field recordings: natural sounds, ambient sounds, interviews, recorded texts and recorded vocals/instruments. We work to follow not a genre of music or sound but to follow a theme and let it guide us throughout the texture of the entire work, so that the sounds are created from one “cloth” that stays close to the intended purpose of the sound.
We like to create parameters within which to work, using limitation to stay close to the original idea. At the moment we are working on measurement, difference, speaking across borders, border crossing, and nonviolent resistance and would like to see how these themes can be reflected in sound design and collaborative work. Facebook Event
HYENAZ are looking for interlocutors for our upcoming live experiences in the probability praxis series.
Probability Praxis is the series of 28 performances of the Critical Magic ritual. “Praxis” is intentional practice of radical imaginings; this is our laboratory. “Probability” is an acknowledgement that transformation does not happen overnight, but that practicing intimacy, questioning our acts of Othering, actively interrogating boundaries and deeply understanding our bodies in relation to other bodies increases the probability of personal and political change.
Critical Magic 비평 적 마술 is based in contact, sound and movement to break physical and mental isolation and to spark discourse that is both critical and utopian. It is an electronic music performance as well as interactive ritual performance which grew out of the site specific performance “Spectral Rite” with Sylbee Kim and Nico Pelzer at the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Seoul in 2014.
It has since been performed as a full ritual around Europe, Canada, and Australia. We are looking for Interlocutors who will help be active participants to ensure an atmosphere of mutual respect and connection between ourselves (HYENAZ) as facilitators and the “audience” as participants.
No previous rehearsal or experience is required, we welcome all bodies. Your curiosity and eagerness is most important. looking forward to meeting you.
When we began Foreign Bodies, the idea that the movement of peoples across territories was to become a defining political question, that it would motivate political movements and mobs, that it would become a mechanism through which different elites would build a political base to take power in the state, was marginal. It was not yet front page news, nor had it become the political cliché that it is now, refugee crisis, a meaningless phrase that provokes feelings of compassion or loathing without any real sense of the entities that comprise the so-called crisis, so that the crisis is never really born, never works the transformation that it ought to – the dissolution of everything we know of as the body politic at present and the creation of a new body politic, as well as new bodies and new politics. 1)There are a multitude of individuals and communities for whom the reality of this migration is experienced with all of its nuances, with all the beauty, wonder, awe, discomfort and fear that is provoked by the actual physical experience of another’s body. There are the migrants themselves, and there are those individuals and organizations who have moved themselves to the sites where help is needed, giving food and medical care, assisting people to overcome state control wherever possible. And there are those well within the confines of the nation state who provide spaces and advocacy for those whose journeys are complete (for now). I feel that these people experience what is happening not through the distancing cliché of “migration crisis”, but as a lived reality.
Where can we point the finger for this failure – surely it belongs with the management of this crisis, as if the state understands itself not as a vehicle for transporting human civilisation into something more humane and more civilised, but as a bureaucracy dedicated to the preservation of the threads of the status quo. This bureaucracy, which should be marginal and transitory, has filled the vacuum left by the aspiration in an earlier stage of the nation for a true social state, one in which labor rights and welfare were guaranteed by the state. This bureaucracy exists only to see that the institutions themselves, empty as they are of any political content beyond the continuation and, against all indications of economic reality, the necessary expansion of the capitalist project.
As is the case, always and inevitably, the bureaucratic formations which are designed for administering the periphery of the nation state, as in the case of imperialism, return to the center as well, as in the case of nazism, fascism and neoliberalism.
So Foreign Bodies is about those bodies which view the national border the same way a herd of goats view a seemingly impossible precipice, a dangerous inconvenience to be overcome by nimble feet and an act of will. It is about their experience once they cross this precipice, the violence they receive at the hands of mob, police and border security, the drudgery that their lives can descend into once they become administrative subjects. It is also about those non-migrating bodies 2)Of course, every body is a migrating body, whether actually-migrating, potentially-migrating, or historically-migrating. I am a refugee insofar as my grandfather was. I am a foreigner in Germany, though a privileged one, and yet I have “arrived” as it were in my home of Berlin, therefore I am both a migrating body and a non-migrating body. who live across the precipice, how they are shaped by their anxieties of the outside, how the administration of those other alien bodies makes invisible the work that the state performs on their own bodies, cells and molecules. Foreign Bodies is about the potential bodies that we might inhabit: physical bodies, political bodies, that are not shaped by paranoia and neuroses. – AT
There are a multitude of individuals and communities for whom the reality of this migration is experienced with all of its nuances, with all the beauty, wonder, awe, discomfort and fear that is provoked by the actual physical experience of another’s body. There are the migrants themselves, and there are those individuals and organizations who have moved themselves to the sites where help is needed, giving food and medical care, assisting people to overcome state control wherever possible. And there are those well within the confines of the nation state who provide spaces and advocacy for those whose journeys are complete (for now). I feel that these people experience what is happening not through the distancing cliché of “migration crisis”, but as a lived reality.
Of course, every body is a migrating body, whether actually-migrating, potentially-migrating, or historically-migrating. I am a refugee insofar as my grandfather was. I am a foreigner in Germany, though a privileged one, and yet I have “arrived” as it were in my home of Berlin, therefore I am both a migrating body and a non-migrating body.
we performed in the forest. Birk and Nina had installed the lights, the sculpture, the screen, beautifully. The large screen behind us with the beamer coming in from the back. The ground was so soft, I sunk into it, so many times, it welcomed me. Bishop and Tereza were with us as interlocutors. There was a faint rain, just still a hint. Our technical equipment was safe from the rain in ninas car. We felt well taken care of. We took bare feet on the forest ground. Our purpose among the four of us was restoration, ecology. We felt honored to be performing amongst the trees. I saw them as part of the ritual, their tall bodies stretching upwards. I could focus on them, with them. There were times I came drawn to them, I wanted to included them in the percussions, but I did not want to hit them. Our audience came and went, they did not all stay with us the entire time. In the middle it wained, in the end they came again. I felt the undulation with the energy. They were pulled in with us in the beginning, inside the circle. We ended as a circle, around the circle. We helped Adrienne carry her last piece of wood as she rung out the last notes. In positive, all of this, and especially the magic that was felt through our bodies, was very real. Bishop ended with a mark on his forehead from the forest floor that looked like blood on a newborns forehead. Like he had just existed the cunt, it was stunning and beautiful. I had a magical dance blindfolded with two people, at least. The breeze was ecstatic on my skin. I I felt that I could have done better at the height of gnosis, that I was missing something of the magic at exactly that point, that perhaps there is a better way to remove the routine of that moment. That we need to prepare more for the climax and that it needs be even higher than what it felt then. Even though, I could see that people were with us, I was hoping there might be … something else. Im not yet sure what. Krf.
critical magic, in my mind, fundamentally challenges the idea that magic can be about a poof – wave the wand and change everything. Critical magic is about critical engagement, critical theory, active listening, participation, active presence, and deicing to work towards change. And yet. There is also perhaps, what I can see now, there is perhaps also room for a “poof” – if we can call it that. There is room for an exacting moment of revelation. In this conception, the poof moment could be the moment when the imagination takes on a new ordering and accepts a new paradigm as an act of performance — performance here is a moment of “reframing” ones truth. This is as opposed to creating or enacting a new empirical truth. The world cannot change in one second, but our minds can change. The world can change slowly over time, with hard work and commitment and coming together through activism and action. Part of this change requires the changing of minds, and even though the changing of minds can also take a long time, it seems that on the other hand, a mind does switch, there is a moment when one decides that in fact the floor is not green, that rather it is brown. There are ahhah moments, there are moments when we decide to use a new pronoun for someone, when we decide to give someone a new name, when we acknowledge a death or a birth. And this moment is specific, one might say, a poof moment, a singular moment. There in that sense we can radically imagine a new way of categorizing that was before not seen. Ithink about what elizabeth povinelli says about life versus non life, all she had to write was simply the idea, the new vision, and the paradigm was open. Not because the paradigm is or is not, but rather that it exists at all as “one way of seeing” and if we can allow ourselves to see in that/those other ways, this is a radical vision. Radically visioning. The performance act is a chance to live inside a radical vision, to perform a radical state of mind and of speech act. It is a chance to practice a new way of seeing. Within that “other way of seeing” perhaps we can also envision what that other way of seeing will give birth to over time.