Danceversing

Gabriela Moreno

In conclusion to this summer’s Dance and Experimentation course at the department of Performance Studies at New York University, Professor Lepecki proposed to define dance as “a space of experimentation of what a body can do in relation to potentials (or puissances), with movement, imperceptivilities, and in subjection to kinetic imperatives," instead of conforming to thedictionary’s definition of it as “the art of bodies in motion.” Despite which of these definitions one may favor, neither says of dance that it is a language. Is dance a language? Is it a subculture? Is it literature? “Has deconstruction set us at liberty to believe dance and writing are identical forms of inscription?” Perhaps, but what should be brought to attention is how independently from theanswers to these questions we (audiences, dancers, scholars, critics, pedestrians, choreographers) colloquially treat dance as if it were a language that has to be understood and hence necessarily translated. Already has translation studies developed a consciousness on the issues of translating. Also have art scholars instigated questions on the dubious nature of attempting to give artworks a meaningby interpreting them or translating them.
Language. Dialogue. Vocabulary. Reading. Composition. Notation. Writing. Communicating. Alphabet. Translation. Interpretation. Code. Form. As an obvious semantic field unravels in the linguistic expression of the study of Dance, I resist to its apparent appropriateness, its probable accuracy, its assumed teleology, and its scholarly acceptance. How isthe language used in writing about dance affecting our perception of it? Is it even correct to interpret Dance linguistically? Unfortunately “none of us can ever retrieve that innocence…when one did not ask of a work of art what it said because one knew (or thought one knew) what it did.” But if we are to read/interpret/translate Dance (or art) we must the least acknowledge that we risk poisoningour sensibilities. Meanwhile, we may also consider the positive possibilities that may derive from translating dance (or art).

I arrive at an issue with translating dance because of Jeroen Peteers. In Bodies as Filters he considers the phenomenon of blindness as explored in the works of Charmatz and Lachambre, La Chaise and Tracer respectively. Peteers asks of Tracer: “What knowledge do weobtain from the dance and acting taking place in front of us in the darkness? Or is this dance largely taking place in our minds, in our perception and imagination?” As I read about dance I ask myself the same questions. Here Peteers tries to illuminate the darkness where La Chaise and Tracer now remain. The works are now taking place somewhere between his interpretation of the events and my mind, myperception and my imagination. Ironically, Peteers is codifying a work that, in the words he quotes from Lachambre, is attempting to remove “layers” of codes in order to reveal “ancient forms that were much more sophisticated.”The violence of Peteer’s interpretation to the work of Lachambre cannot be overlooked. In fact, this violence is unavoidable in any interpretation of any work of artaccording to Susan Sontag. Following a similar line of thought Walter Benjamin argues that translations often “not so much serve the works as owe their existence to it”. Yet translations might also serve to different purposes. In the case of Bodies as Filters, the section here discussed serves in illustrating the choreographers as choreographers despite not serving their works. Perhaps we ought to askdifferent questions to avoid a complete apparent opposition to the linguistic translation of dance in general.

“Is a translation meant for readers who do not understand the original?” The question of the translator’s target audience is imperative to this study, and yet it requires a different study for itself. Walter Benjamin argues that this is insignificant because a work of art doesn’t...