When I Dance
When I Dance
Barbara Kaneratonni Diabo shares how she developed the dance and movement practices of her piece, Smudge:
When I dance... I get out of my head. My whole body becomes alive. I get out of my body and I feel so connected to something I can’t even understand or explain. So I think that helps me. That helps me truly live the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen. My film Smudge, that I made with my child, was just scratching the surface of these concepts. Because I looked at: What is our connection? Me and my child, the present, the past, the future.
All the movements were inspired by the idea of getting a deck smudged when we burn our medicine plants and they make smoke. That’s a way to connect with others, with our ancestors, with everything around us. So all those concepts went into this film. You know, in a way, it became more than just a show. Because that’s what I’ve discovered, when I started doing my Indigenous cultural dances. I originally started dancing in classical ballet. I did modern contemporary, I did ballroom dancing. I’ve done hip hop styles, many of the so called mainstream types. Only as an adult was I able to really connect with my cultural dances. And it brought a whole new perspective: a perspective that dance is more than just a show, that it is bigger than me. That now I dance for my community. I dance for prayer, I dance for ancestors, for future generations.
When I decided on this concept of the film Smudge, I first wasn’t sure who I would get to dance with me. I was thinking of hiring a more senior, classically trained contemporary dancer to dance the piece with me. But then I started just looking around. So when I was looking for a dancer, I looked at my child. My child, they dance, and they’ve been dancing with me all their life. So I was really curious: could they deliver what I was hoping for in this film? And I was more than happy. I talked about the concept with them, and how they would represent kind of the next generation and I would represent maybe the older generation, which is true for us. And they would represent more the disconnect, the disconnect that our people, we would try to keep those traditions alive in a disconnected world.
“What would those movements mean, in a disconnected world?”
What would those movements mean, in a disconnected world? Do they still hold the meaning and teaching that they originally are supposed to, or are they just movements? And what does that make you feel? So we mirrored each other throughout the process. I had a series of movements that I created, honoring the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen.
When I Dance
When I Dance
Barbara Kaneratonni Diabo shares how she developed the dance and movement practices of her piece, Smudge:
When I dance... I get out of my head. My whole body becomes alive. I get out of my body and I feel so connected to something I can’t even understand or explain. So I think that helps me. That helps me truly live the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen. My film Smudge, that I made with my child, was just scratching the surface of these concepts. Because I looked at: What is our connection? Me and my child, the present, the past, the future.
All the movements were inspired by the idea of getting a deck smudged when we burn our medicine plants and they make smoke. That’s a way to connect with others, with our ancestors, with everything around us. So all those concepts went into this film. You know, in a way, it became more than just a show. Because that’s what I’ve discovered, when I started doing my Indigenous cultural dances. I originally started dancing in classical ballet. I did modern contemporary, I did ballroom dancing. I’ve done hip hop styles, many of the so called mainstream types. Only as an adult was I able to really connect with my cultural dances. And it brought a whole new perspective: a perspective that dance is more than just a show, that it is bigger than me. That now I dance for my community. I dance for prayer, I dance for ancestors, for future generations.
When I decided on this concept of the film Smudge, I first wasn’t sure who I would get to dance with me. I was thinking of hiring a more senior, classically trained contemporary dancer to dance the piece with me. But then I started just looking around. So when I was looking for a dancer, I looked at my child. My child, they dance, and they’ve been dancing with me all their life. So I was really curious: could they deliver what I was hoping for in this film? And I was more than happy. I talked about the concept with them, and how they would represent kind of the next generation and I would represent maybe the older generation, which is true for us. And they would represent more the disconnect, the disconnect that our people, we would try to keep those traditions alive in a disconnected world.
“What would those movements mean, in a disconnected world?”
What would those movements mean, in a disconnected world? Do they still hold the meaning and teaching that they originally are supposed to, or are they just movements? And what does that make you feel? So we mirrored each other throughout the process. I had a series of movements that I created, honoring the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen.
Barbara Kaneratonni Diabo shares how she developed the dance and movement practices of her piece, Smudge:
When I dance... I get out of my head. My whole body becomes alive. I get out of my body and I feel so connected to something I can’t even understand or explain. So I think that helps me. That helps me truly live the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen. My film Smudge, that I made with my child, was just scratching the surface of these concepts. Because I looked at: What is our connection? Me and my child, the present, the past, the future.
All the movements were inspired by the idea of getting a deck smudged when we burn our medicine plants and they make smoke. That’s a way to connect with others, with our ancestors, with everything around us. So all those concepts went into this film. You know, in a way, it became more than just a show. Because that’s what I’ve discovered, when I started doing my Indigenous cultural dances. I originally started dancing in classical ballet. I did modern contemporary, I did ballroom dancing. I’ve done hip hop styles, many of the so called mainstream types. Only as an adult was I able to really connect with my cultural dances. And it brought a whole new perspective: a perspective that dance is more than just a show, that it is bigger than me. That now I dance for my community. I dance for prayer, I dance for ancestors, for future generations.
When I decided on this concept of the film Smudge, I first wasn’t sure who I would get to dance with me. I was thinking of hiring a more senior, classically trained contemporary dancer to dance the piece with me. But then I started just looking around. So when I was looking for a dancer, I looked at my child. My child, they dance, and they’ve been dancing with me all their life. So I was really curious: could they deliver what I was hoping for in this film? And I was more than happy. I talked about the concept with them, and how they would represent kind of the next generation and I would represent maybe the older generation, which is true for us. And they would represent more the disconnect, the disconnect that our people, we would try to keep those traditions alive in a disconnected world.
“What would those movements mean, in a disconnected world?”
What would those movements mean, in a disconnected world? Do they still hold the meaning and teaching that they originally are supposed to, or are they just movements? And what does that make you feel? So we mirrored each other throughout the process. I had a series of movements that I created, honoring the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen.