Daniel Kok
In MARK, nine dancers attempt a collective drawing in different urban spaces. The traces of their gestures, acts and relations reveal what happens when a dance encounters the public. The audience is invited to join the dancers physically in a drawing, which evokes social and imaginary landscapes where people can meet one another in an unfamiliar space. They come together in such a space to discover new layers to their daily lives and to find beauty in giving attention to one another.
MARK is an invitation to a radical moment of togetherness. The act of dancing is a desire to leave behind an indelible mark on the social body.
Choreographer: Daniel Kok
Dramaturge: Claudia Bosse
Dancers: Phitthaya Phaefuang, Otniel Tasman, Lee Mun Wai, Jereh Leung, Pat Toh, Melissa Quek, Yazid, Felicia Lim
Music: Phu Pham
Documentarian: Chan Sze Wei
Commissioned by the Singapore International Festival of Arts (SIFA) in 2017
A CONVERSATION BETWEEN DRAMATURGE CLAUDIA BOSSE
AND DOCUMENTARIAN CHAN SZE-WEI
Chan Sze-Wei: What was the starting point for this work, MARK?
Claudia Bosse: I recall Daniel Kok speaking about three different elements. He was inspired by the Holi festivals in India. He imagined a ritualistic celebration which would implicate the public body in the performance. He also talked about Pink Dot (Singapore’s annual LGBT demonstration) and the way that a mass gathering was recorded in public space. Thirdly, a more general question about what kind of art is necessary nowadays in relation to the current global political order. How can we produce art that addresses something in the individual subject and in the common body that offers the opportunity to reflect on our own embeddedness in social and political norms?
This work takes place in three different public spaces. How do you see this shaping the work?
When we work in public spaces, the work is at once about the performance and not about the performance. The performance becomes a medium to allow us to observe the performance of the public space itself. As artists, we must consider whether the work is entertainment for the public or an intervention in a situation – the situated audience. Being a situated audience is not about being situated by the performer, but about being invited to situate myself. It’s about a special coexistence of bodies. The reading and listening on all sides can then become an open process in all directions, and the performance is just one part of it.
What about the risk that the audience will not want to be involved?
When I was here in March, I was invited to an (evangelical) church service. It was the first time I have experienced something like it. I felt like a dot in a mass of involvement. Every person there was completely involved, and had a clear ritualistic role to play. In the context of choreography, I’m interested in how the individual can get involved without a clear script. Instead, the invitation gives the responsibility back to the individual. There is a pleasure in becoming organised. You can choose to position yourself depending on the situation, the different propositions arising from the work. The proposition invites a choice, rather than saying that there is just one way to imprint yourself in that setting.
There is an interesting tension in making a work about collectivity, where each performer is very much an individual in this work. Daniel’s choice of cast and way of working highlights that each dancer has their own movement language, even their own little universe sometimes. I get the sense of individuals making a decision to come together, rather than performers presenting an already unified body.
This is part of a big discussion about collectivity, individuality, and uniformity. I would say it’s only possible to create a collectivity if the individual is clearly defined by his/her borders, standpoints, and desires. Without that clarity, you just submit yourself to a majority decision that has nothing to do with the collectivity but is more about consensus. How is it possible for a collective body to allow difference? How can it also allow us to meet one another to articulate our differences and seek a common interest? This is extremely difficult but also extremely important.
How does the drawing in this work relate to these questions?
I was touched to see Daniel’s choreographic identity meet his art teacher identity in this process. The drawing is a key part of this piece and it is much more than traces made on the white paper. Every ephemeral movement is a drawing in space. Every trace a body leaves in time is a new layer, a possible memory in the mind of the spectator. Throwing the coloured powder is yet another layer, like a virus or a contamination. How can we relate the energy of the trace-producing body and the traces themselves? What are the traces on the body, and what is then the composition in space? Must the traces become a statement, or can they stay permanently as a process of marking?
In a country that is so clean and ordered, explosions of art in public space easily cause anxiety.
When we were rehearsing in Punggol, we were surrounded by big white clouds of anti-mosquito fumigation fog. I realised that the swamps of Singapore can only continue to exist with this contamination, which is justified as separating bad organisms from good organisms. However, a similar cloud of coloured powder in a different context can be seen as dangerous or implying disorder. But if we explain that this is important for us to exist, then it can be justified.
This is how contamination and order co-exists.
Yes!