welcome, we've been waiting: choreographer Rodney Diverlus's pleasure activism

26 May 2022 - Photos by Francesca Chudnoff

"I want to invite the audience to exhale with me and the performers," says choreographer Rodney Diverlus of his new production welcome, we've been waiting, "to invite in chill, relaxed, and breezy energy. I don’t want you to think too much or be exhausted by incessant high energy go go go type of dancing, but instead invite you into a mood of groove. I want you to come as yourself, and to be free to jam with us in your seats, to experience what you want to experience, and to leave humming along with us."

When I last talked to Diverlus in 2016, what was impressive was his determination to combine art with activism, labelling himself an 'artivist.' That has not changed, but for welcome, we've been waiting there has been a shift in his focus. "Much of my activism work lives in a place of rage and resistance," says Diverlus, "and although I believe those are crucial ingredients to change, they are not the entire recipe. For this work I wanted to really lean into the other side of my recipe for change, which includes play and fantasy, quirky and goofy approaches to life. Freedom from the need to be stoic and put together, welcoming in the mess and the gritty, the queer and the fluffy. To me activism is a 360 degree experience, and what you see on the streets, in protest, is one aspect of it." 

The other aspects? "For me my activism is also pleasure activism; it’s creating the conditions for us to be seen and to feel good about our existence as Black folk, as queer folk, as migrants, as poor folk, as disabled or chronically ill folks. That we too deserve joy, and pleasure, and to explore things that are not singularly tied to the defense of our humanity; but instead on our dreams and fantasies, our vision for the world we live in. I am just as interested in sexuality as I am in justice. And for me, there is justice in corporeal and emotional freedom. Often people see my work as disparate and disconnected, but for me there is deep connection with my work on the streets and through my art. There is a throughline from me chanting on a megaphone to grooving to Miles Davis and Christian Scott ATunde Adjuah, to grinding on a sweaty dance floor. My work grapples with humanity; be it on the streets, on stage, in print, in film, or in informal spaces. the themes of community and honouring personhood is the undercurrent that drive my work."

Diverlus's work draws on a multitude of dance forms including, according to the press release, 'queer contemporary performance,' which is, to me, an unfamiliar term. "I deliberately brought queer performance aesthetics and movement into the work itself," explains Diverlus. "I brought in the kind of movements I would do ‘bubbling’ on somebody at an afterparty, or what I would do dancing at a ball. To me queer contemporary performance is an umbrella approach to performance, that brings in idiosyncrasies and movement language inspired by and derived from diverse queer communities working in the now. I'm particularly moved by Black and diasporic queer expressions or ways of moving: the emphasis of the lower spine, back and butt to create sensuous and sleuth-like movement. The potency of the ‘sex siren’ found in ballroom culture. Partner dancing with whomever you choose, swapping back and forth between who’s ‘leader’ and ‘follower.’ The subtle ways we can embody both masculine and feminine energies simultaneously and without the need to delineate between each. The hands as a site of expression and performance. Seeing clothing as mere textiles and not as gendered markers, freeing us to just be. For me queer contemporary performance is freeing ourselves of the heteronormative lineage of theatre and dance performance; allowing us to whatever we want, whenever we want." 

When asked how he found dancers to embody his broad stylistic inspirations, Diverlus had a surprising answer. "Toronto Dance Theatre is a company of full-time dance artists who work for a full season, eight to 10 months of the year, with multiple projects and shows within that span. As a commissioned choreographer, I was brought in as a guest artist and worked with dancers who are a core part of the company and who do a variety of work within their repertoire. So there were no auditions; it was akin to an arranged marriage, in which I got the chance to start working with the dancers on a research phase which can be seen as a 'getting to know you' phase. I got to learn about them and their movement sensibilities and vice versa. Generally full-time company dancers bring with them a wide variety of training and skillsets to aide them in acclimatizing to guest choreographers, whose approaches and movement sensibilities all differ. Their work traditionally is rooted in modern and contemporary movement, and so I designed a training regimen for them that included everything from West African, Jazz, Punking, Character-Development, Lindy Hop, and other related styles that inform this work."

But there was work before working with the dancers. "I began this work as with all works, with a research phase," says Diverlus. "This was me and a couple of dancers in the studio investigating and playing with movement, or me reading books, listening to music, watching content, and thinking. All those activities contribute to knowing more and more what I want to say with a work. It became clear over the process that what we needed was joy and spirit, both audience and performer. With so much tragedy around us, we all needed to feel good. This work is a response to that need."

And work Diverlus did. "I commissioned TiKA to compose half of the score, and they brought in a composing partner Dillon Baldassarro to collaborate on their specific tracks. This work was a mix of original music and found sound. I curated and selected the found music to work alongside the original music composed by our two composers. I worked with them to understand the tone and vibe of each scene they were composing to, what we were trying to accomplish with the choreography, and soundscapes that we were using as templates to create movement. Then they worked together on the composition and producing of each of those tracks. It was a multi-way collaboration. Like all collaborations, this was a process of chicken-and-the-egg, whereby some choreography was created before the music, but once music was finished, was adjusted to fit best with the musical score. Typically, I prefer to have all the music finished before we choreograph, but because of our timelines and the realities of the pandemic, we worked in an iterative way, letting one influence the other as we continued piecing the work together." 

And of course covid inserted itself. "It’s inevitable really that the pandemic experience would impact welcome, we've been waiting." says Diverlus. "As the pandemic evolved my interests evolved, and so I allowed myself to take my time to really think about what I wanted to say in this work. It was less of a run at full speed toward the finish line type of process, but more of a stop and smell the roses type. We moved at a pace that felt right for us; taking breaks from rehearsal to play games, to share a meal, a conversation. Allowing breaks to be extended when needed, and offering each other the grace to be late, stay home if we needed to, sit, and observe if we needed to. There’s a simplicity in creating something straightforward; easy to digest. As a creator, I relinquished this expectation of creating virtuosic, hyper-physical; work where dancers were expected to showcase their full range of physical possibilities or dancing themselves to exhaustion. Instead, we turned inward, welcoming in deep reflection, calm, personal groove, rest, connection, and simply being."

The pandemic was difficult for Diverlus. "Somehow, I was brimming with a glut of ideas and creatively depleted; simultaneously eager to create and uneasy with the unpredictable climate," he says. "My work deals primarily with human beings, and requires collaboration, proximity, connection, even touch. I work best when I am free and so having to create within the confines of my apartment, engaging with 2-D digital avatar versions of human beings with Zoom over such distance was an incredible challenge. I stopped training, stopped choreographing, and really was disconnected from my body and the theatre and dance community. There was so much mourning and sadness that I had to really close in within and allow myself to listen inward. Over the past two years I’ve had half a dozen or so projects postponed, canceled, rescheduled, or something to those effects. Nothing felt permanent or real. And the heartache of beginning something to never finish it is something I cannot describe." 

But in the same way the pandemic influenced the themes and approach of welcome, we've been waiting's creation, it affected Diverlus. "The lockdowns had its magical moments," says Diverlus. "Beautiful moments of quiet and reflection; epiphanic realizations and transformation. I learned a lot about myself; what moves me, drives me, and holds me together. The pace of the pandemic is something I’m already missing, as there is an expectation that we will be running now at full speed. The slow and steady approach to creation is something I crave again, and strive to recreate even in this fast paced reopening."