MicroCosmos is an inquiry into our ability to affect meaningful change on a small scale through the inner dimensions of artistic practice. How are artists tapping into those inner dimensions to be in dialogue and right relation with the outer context in which we live? When things feel out of control on a macro scale, how do our artistic gifts meet the needs of the world?
In response to these questions, MicroCosmos co-curators Javiera Benavente, Matthew Glassman, and Nick Slie created a framework of creative prompts and then convened artists who are knee deep in this inquiry to reflect, study, and then encounter a fellow practitioner they’ve never met. In this conversation, Severin Blake and Rebecca Wright of Applied Mechanics and Annalisa Dias come together to discuss their responses to the MicroCosmos framework in a conversation facilitated by Javiera Benavente. Applied Mechanics is a multiracial Philadelphia-based collective of queer and genderqueer theatre artists that has been making original performance work since 2009. They have made over a dozen immersive works: plays you can walk through, with intricately designed installation sets and multiple storylines unfolding simultaneously. They are Severin Blake, Brett Ashley Robinson, Izzy Sazak, MK Tuomanen, and Rebecca Wright. Annalisa Dias is a Goan American transdisciplinary artist, community organizer, and award-winning theatremaker working at the intersection of racial justice and care for the earth. She is a co-founder of Groundwater Arts and a co-director of HERE Arts Center.
This process began by convening pairs of artists who are knee deep in this inquiry. We invited each to reflect, study, and then encounter a fellow practitioner they’ve never met. Each participant in the MicroCosmos project undertook a three-part process of individual work. They were asked to meditate on five questions:
What questions and callings are you living?
What are the places, spaces, and relationships that are undergirding you and your work?
What seeds are you planting and tending?
What are the practices that would help you?
What are the experiments you yearn to conduct?
Then, participants engaged in shared study of excerpts from Symbiotic Planet: A New Look at Evolution by Lynn Margulis, “When You Meet the Monster, Anoint its Feet” by Bayo Akomolafe, and "Communication is Sacred” by Nora Bateson. Finally, participants created a short expressive response in any creative medium as a way of sharing what the prompts and shared study activated in them. Those creative responses appear interspersed throughout the following conversation.
There's a real here-ness to the work that we make, and we're engaging the history of this place and the histories of protests and movement that are embedded in the space of the town where we've met and made the bulk of our work.
Rebecca Wright: We were all trying to answer the question about questions and callings for Applied Mechanics as a group. Applied Mechanics really does, through making our work, explore questions about collectivity and community; what it means to come together and still be individuals, but to need each other; what it means artistically and aesthetically to uplift interconnectedness and to put it in its most honest but ambitious configuration.
We're asking the world to re-vision a more just and accessible future through making art. We're using immersive theatre to re-narrativize histories as a way of dreaming up a better world. We're making that world exist for the discrete little moments of our shows, and we invite audiences to literally walk around in that world with us. So, there's an embeddedness to the future and the power of building futures and systems that we're exploring when we make work together.
We're also very aware of being in Philadelphia and in relation to each other, and Philadelphia has been the locus of our relationships. So now the five members of the company live in different places. We all come from different places, but there's a real here-ness to the work that we make, and we're engaging the history of this place and the histories of protests and movement that are embedded in the space of the town where we've met and made the bulk of our work.
To the "What seeds are you planning and tending?" question, we all in some way wrote about the power of the small. We wrote about planting seeds in the interstices of our world and hoping that those seeds grow sometime in the future and putting our faith into that. We talked about making new stories. We talked about uplifting each other. We talked about taking care of ourselves and our loved ones and having that ethos be part of an artistic event.
In spite of the great suffering and loss that we are all living through, living with, I want to plant seeds of hope that connection is possible.
Annalisa Dias: I am a playwright and director and performer and dramaturg and, and, and, and, and, and, and… I really feel like I stumbled into quite a lot of things. Sometimes I've described myself as somebody who will do whatever job is necessary to make a project happen. So I have also been known to be a scenic painter. I've also been known to be a very bad scenic designer. If I care about the project, then I'll find a way to fill a gap. Sometimes I'm a gap-filler, maybe that's a way to describe myself.
I also am a producer, but I think producers are also gap-fillers—gap-identifiers and gap-fillers. And I've been living and working in the Washington, D.C./Baltimore area for over fifteen years now, which is wild. I’m currently working as an independent artist, but also working with Groundwater Arts, which is a company that I co-founded five or six years ago. My primary collaborator there is Tara Moses, who's Seminole and Muscogee. We do a lot of work that is climate justice and performing arts related. I'm also one of the new co-directors at HERE Arts Center in New York.
At 6:00 a.m. today, I was thinking about myself as my independent artist self in relation to “questions and callings.” I'm in a moment of life transition. I mentioned this is a new job for me, I have a lot of questions right now about what does it mean to have a singular vision? People keep asking, "What's your vision for HERE Arts Center? What's your vision for XYZ thing?" And I'm like, "I don't know that I am interested in that.” I don't think I'm interested in a vision for the future. I am more interested in sensing something. I don't know what I mean by this, but I feel like a little mushroom connected underground, and I'm like, "Can we sense our way to the future together? Are there multiple futures?" It's not neutral to say, "I have a vision." So stop asking me that question. Those are some of the questions and callings I'm living right now.
“What seeds am I planting?” I'm planting seeds of boundaries and hope for connection. In spite of the great suffering and loss that we are all living through, living with, I want to plant seeds of hope that connection is possible.
Severin Blake: Everything you're saying right now. It hits.
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