There are many ways to
tell a story. Art is one of the best.
All kinds of art.
This afternoon, I sat
in the 12th Street Gallery in the Brookland neighborhood of
Washington, D.C.—along a strip with two barbers, a nail salon, a shoe repair shop
and a hardware store—and watched and listened as stories unspooled: in
paintings on the walls, in a film about love and religion, in soulful music
from strings and percussion, in dance, and in writing.
Ronya Lee Anderson, who told her story at Temporium July 8
This is Temporium, a
summer art festival presented by Dance Place, one of my favorite spots in D.C. In
addition to presenting high-quality performances every weekend, Dance Place supports
after-school programming for children and offers myriad classes for adults. Now,
it’s also promoting arts beyond its own genre, and beyond its own studios, though
still in its own neighborhood—a community that happens to be far from the heady
halls of the “high art.”
I am lucky enough to
have dipped a toe in both worlds this weekend: first, I went to the Kennedy
Center, D.C.’s high-end performance art venue, as a special birthday treat for
my girl, Clara. We saw the Paris Opera Ballet dance Giselle, a romantic portrayal of a heartbroken maiden. The lead
dancer absolutely transcended gravity and the “Wilis” who accompanied her –
ghosts of women who died of heartbreak before they could marry – drifted in an unimaginably
otherworldly wave across the stage.
The Paris Opera Ballet Wilis, telling an old story of heartbreak
Then today, I was
immersed in the more reality-grounded world of contemporary art: art that told the
stories of real people, the sorts of folks I run into right here, in the city. There
was a dance about the comfort of finding a voice in movement; another about the
challenge of asserting identity. There was a luscious vocal talent following a
film on Muslim love; a quartet of musicians telling their own musical stories;
and bright paintings I barely had time to acknowledge, because there was such
activity all around. I’ll have to return to give them the consideration I’m
sure they deserve.
Nadia Janjua's story, on exhibit at the 12th Street Gallery
I was lucky enough to offer
a creative writing workshop in the midst of it all. “Everyone Has a Story,” I
called it—because you don’t have to be A Writer, or A Novelist, to tell your
story, just as you don’t have to be a ballerina at the Kennedy Center to have
something meaningful and profound to say through movement. Like so much about
art, the workshop became a fluid experience – we expected to be in one place
but, because of excessive heat (and lack of air conditioning) wound up in
another. Because of scheduling challenges, we considered moving a second time
but instead opted to stay at the 12th Street Gallery. The result was
an easy movement from film to music to writing to dance, everyone telling a story
in a different way. This was Temporium.
Thanks to Dance Place,
my friend Carla Perlo for pulling me into its community, and to all the artists
involved in Temporium for making art come alive, and for giving us so many ways
to hear and tell our stories.
Brookland's Temporium continues throughout
the summer : check it out here
