With its attention turned towards experimental and innovative works of performing arts, Atalante offers a space for the artistic works, a discourse surrounding those works, and the field at large. During the fall of 2024 we will delve deeper into the various universes of the artists presenting work and make space for a dialogue between the artists, the spectators and the venue. 

After engaging in dialogue with one of PAx artistic directors Kyrie Oda, a thorough look at the figure of the “stranger” was provoked and thought further about. Presented below is a reflective text by Josephine Gray which discusses the topics currently present in the work of Kyrie Oda, PAx and more specifically the evening program “Stranger in a Strange Land”.

 

Throughout ancient civilisations the stranger knocking on the door must be invited in and shown hospitality as the possibility that they are godsend looms large over the hosts house. The stranger in modern times almost always expects the opposite treatment. The doors remain closed and if hospitality is shown it is conditional. To find oneself a stranger remains one of the constant features of human life. Grasping for meaning we stand naked in front of “ourselves”, our “family”, our “nation”, our “tribe”, our “religion”.

In the program presented by PAx (Performing Arts Multiplied) the stranger is given the role of protagonist through a variety of mediums such as choreography (Kyrie Oda and Julienne Doko), visual arts (Patricia Vane) and theatre (Vera Berzak). In conversation with Kyrie Oda the story from Exodus looms large. The title of the evening program is taken from the name Gershom which Moses gives his firstborn son meaning: “stranger in a strange land”. The  double entendre here being that not only is he born in a strange land but that the strangeness of that land will inevitable be his constant companion. Considering this story within a modern context we can only imagine the millions of children being born into a life of being strangers in a strange land, condemned to a fate of never quite being at ease neither with “family” nor with the “nation”. These considerations have found resonance with Kyrie as a non-Westerner navigating the rules and decorum both visible and invisible within a Western context. The perceived alienation has asked further questions of her, “why am I here, and not there?”, “maybe these feelings are present within native communities?” to wondering if they are also “a generational problem?”

The myth making present in the biblical texts are stories that have shaped the Western world as much in legal and civic instances as the personal and moral codes we live by. These far-reaching roots ask questions of us in a supposed “secular” society: what is our covenant? with oneself? with the other? with the nation? The search for roots is a complex and intricate matter. In the story of Moses and his exile, Kyrie has reflected upon the subtext of the Pharaoh in the story. In his own time Ramses II of Ancient Egypt undeniably believed that being granted title Pharaoh equalled the status of God, as would have been the custom at the time. However, the refutation of an earthly Godhead is in many respects what the entirety of the biblical texts argue. The hubris of the Pharaoh is merely one of many reiterations of the story of idolatry that runs throughout these ancient texts as a constant trope. The curse of the ten plagues that torment Egypt and the Pharaoh does not take its toll until Pharaoh’s own son dies and he realises that he is up against a might that even he cannot withstand. This hubristic attitude, that can only be recognised for what it is in the face of death, has been a point of meditation for Kyrie in a modern-day context as a kind of wake-up call towards our own hubris in insisting that we are in total control of our, and others, lives. In the ancient story it is not until Pharaoh has to face the death of his son that he is able to surrender (however brief) and acknowledge the greater powers of the natural disasters that has accursed the land. What will it take for us, today, to acknowledge surrender in the face of death and destruction? In what form will this surrendering take place?

We are currently living through a time and ethos that champions the possessive, dictating that we somehow have ownership over what we have been given: our body, our name, our country, our tribe and so on. This possessive behaviour stretches from the universal to the personal, as Kyrie mentions, “all the dance technique that I use, I did not invent it, the compositions may be different, but there is nothing new on this earth, how can we be humble about this? To say that I have been given these tools and I am thankful for any opportunities and that I can give something back as thankfulness.”

The expanse of questions that relates to our personal as well as civic lives are rife in Europe and the world at the moment. Their rifeness has always been prevalent within the groups of people they have concerned the most, in our day and age we are waking up to the fact that these are global issues and they concern all of us. This fact urges us to reconsider what it is to live side by side and who the stranger is to whom? In search of a continuity within human history Kyrie addresses these stories that we find in the sacred texts “because it is relevant to everyone.” She continues to note that although “the context [in the texts] might be concrete” what lies at the heart is her ”own journey” which is “hopefully transparent for the viewer”. By offering her own interpretation of these themes the interconnectedness between human lives lie at the forefront and acts as a call for us to remember the stranger within us and without us. The act of remembrance also ties to the symbolism of manna–the godgiven gift that we need to collect daily, as a point of reference for Kyrie. The manna signifies that which we cannot store, but only hope and pray will come again, day after day. The state of remembering that each day is a gift  is a condition that we humans relate to as the persistence of everyday living. The toils, the simple routine of the everyday and the giving thanks to the fact that we have received it yet again today is an act of resilience and gratitude that Kyrie finds could be more pronounced in the modern societies we inhabit.

When discussing these topics with Kyrie, I cannot help but think about the transmission of origin stories that pervade the globe and have unified us as a species that transmits its profound questions of existence through forms of art such as text, artefacts and movement. That is, that we carry a propensity towards situating ourselves in relation to the divine and that this relation remains riddled with doubt but that the retelling of these accounts console us as it is the breath/voice of humanity echoing through us. And, remarkably, we find ourselves present within those stories in spite of the vast distances of time and place. The search for the divine is a human activity that fills us with as much dread as wonder and the feeling of being strange in this world could perhaps be partially remedied by remembering to give thanks. By doing so we might be able to recognise that those aspects in our societies which we find strange can also be the very reasons we feel most at home. And that the more one experiences the discomforts and challenges of everyday life one is able to recognise the strangeness present in many contexts and environments. Perhaps it is only when one renounces the search for belonging that true belonging occurs and we are able to open our doors as strangers towards other strangers and hence find communion in our shared non-belonging which curiously becomes a kind of belonging in and of itself.

Reflektion & text: Josephine Gray