Digging through Softness: a response by Tianjiao Wang

Images taken by Tianjiao Wang with courtesy of Taitai x Tina

Digging through Softness was a performance by TAITAI+/-/x/÷Tina, presented as part of the program of Alana Ferguson’s exhibition SLAPHAPPY at Comfort Station on Friday, April 25, 2025.

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The objects in the show may appear to lack practical function, yet their textures, colors, shapes, and even sounds and incidental physical mechanisms seduce viewers into lingering. TAITAIxTina’s performance is both a response to these works and a new layer of interaction, coexisting in harmony through similar elements and a shared sensibility.

I felt myself drawn into the performance through a delicate and unconventional use of a familiar, functional object. It was a common floor lamp—the kind often found in domestic spaces—typically composed of three or four tubular segments stacked vertically, but Taitai had disassembled the lamp. The electrical cord still threaded through all the pieces as one continuous line, but the segments were laid out horizontally on the floor, each one suspended just above the ground, trailing along the wire in a straight line. My relationship with Taitai's performance resembles that of a stretched and restructured floor lamp—still retaining a certain ‘floor lamp-ness.’ I found myself unexpectedly and continuously discovering elements that felt both familiar and unfamiliar—narratives, gestures, perceptions, sensations.

Images taken by Tianjiao Wang with courtesy of Taitai x Tina

Taitai’s performance kept me on edge. You don’t know if the lamp’s bulb, submerged in water, might suddenly electrocute her. You don’t know if the fruit knife in her hand might slip, if she’ll forget for a moment which side is sharp and which is blunt. You watch as she closes her eyes and runs the dull side across her skin. It’s sensory—deeply so. Beyond the psychological tension brought by the visual shocks, there’s also an unwelcome olfactory layer. The gelatin jellies—shiny, seductive, slippery as they appear—carry a repelling scent, a byproduct of processed animal bones. And then there’s the sound. The aluminum foil screeches underfoot. The gelatin jellies hit the floor with a thud, over and over, a violence you can hear.

Performance differs from film in that it is open—unframed. It allows for gaps in vision. Like a temporary sculpture, it is impossible to see from all angles at once. There’s no room to zoom out—each gesture unfolds so quickly you’re reluctant to look away, even briefly, even when nothing is “happening.” It is unlike film also because the performer knows you are watching her—not just an abstract “audience,” but you, specifically. The act of witnessing is mutual. I’ve been trying very hard to recall this performance as a durational work—what it resembles and what it truly is. I am an experienced long-haul flyer. Flying is a purposeful durational thing. The relationship, I think, between Taitai and the concept of durational work is this: I need to follow Taitai’s practice, especially the practices she will undertake in the future, in order to gain insights that can illuminate past moments. Or perhaps, it is in the interval between this performance of hers and the next that I will naturally obtain more lived experiences—ones that retroactively inform the past and open up new anticipations for the future. With Taitai, durational doesn’t seem to describe a single performance’s unfolding, but rather a broader stretch of lived time—time in which I must carry the memory of this performance forward, letting it subtly shape the days to come.

Images taken by Tianjiao Wang with courtesy of Taitai x Tina

In the end, I must admit—
there is a struggle in remembering.
To recall what happened,
what truly unfolded,
eludes the neat clarity of description.

So I offer this instead,
a small poem within my capacity—
to recount,
however faintly,
what it was that happened.

She wore a mint-green silk dress,
with what seemed like a nude-colored swimsuit underneath.
She stepped into the bathroom and rinsed a transparent bag under cold water.
She bathed with the gelatin jellies.

Her entrance was marked by throwing the gelatin jellies onto the floor of the main room.

A soft gelatin jelly—
Could something soft cause damage to a hard floor?
No.

That soft thing seemed to hold a strange resilience.
It wasn’t deformed, though small fragments chipped off its edges.

Would bending the gelatin jelly with one’s knees cause damage?
Maybe—if you also dug your fingers into it.

It was a clawing motion.
The last time I thought of this gesture was in giving birth,
when a doctor separates the placenta by hand.

Inside the gelatin jellies were embedded a dollar bill, a coin.
The mouth works better—like spitting out a fishbone—
to expel the coin encased in jelly.

Are the jellies still of use?
Perhaps—they’re still carefully wrapped in aluminum foil.
Tucked with the discipline of a soldier folding a blanket.

There are still jellies in the pool of the bathroom.
They must all be taken out.
They rub against the body, soft to the touch.

It feels as if one might stand atop them.

As if they could absorb the weight.

The knees become independent fulcrums.

She enters the bathroom again,
retrieves the last jellies from the pool.
By now, the mint-green dress is completely soaked.
By now, her hair is drenched too.

A jelly clamped between her lips—
Her limbs are then free to wriggle.

The aluminum foil on the ground is both path and bedsheet.
She lies on it, writhing.
Her feet kick the foil like tossing off a blanket.
Both hands pillow the back of her head.

At last, she can close her eyes,
meditate,
listen to the sound of air,
listen to the sound of her own breath.

She spits out the gelatin jelly from her mouth.
Finds the previously folded jelly-blanket.
Continues—flips it, folds it tighter.
Adds this new one in.
All of them, folded in.

Ah! The mint-green wax that's been heating—
she hasn’t yet enjoyed it.
Now is the time.
She pours it out, bit by bit—like thick, sticky honey.
Applies it to her feet,
fixes one foot to a plastic lid,
the other on artificial grass.

It dries.
It sticks.

Shoes!
She puts them on.
She strides—
bold, unbothered.
Foil flies.
The room explodes into a storm.

The foil becomes a dress.
The space re-forms.
The beginning?
Gone.

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Tianjiao Wang is interested in acknowledging the presence of things. She is a practicing artist focusing on photography and film. She was born in Beijing and now lives in Chicago.

Response to Lauren Warnecke’s Review of Deeply Rooted Dance Theater’s Season Opener by Kevin Iega Jeff

Nyemah Stewart as "Sister Soul'Jah" (dancer) in Flack, choreographed by Kevin Iega Jeff, photographed by Jennifer Jackson, provided courtesy of Deeply Rooted Dance Theatre

Deeply Rooted Dance Theater’s season opener was performed on November 16, 2024 at The Auditorium Theater featuring choreography by Artistic Director Nicole Clarke-Springer, Emmy-nominated director and choreographer Jeffrey Page, Ulysses Dove, and Co-Founders Kevin Iega Jeff & Gary Abbott.

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Lauren Warnecke’s November 2024 review of Deeply Rooted Dance Theater’s season opener at the Auditorium Theatre, titled “Deeply Rooted Dance Theater need not cling to the past when its future is so bright,” offers a perspective on the evening’s performances that warrants a thoughtful response. While I appreciate the attention given to our company’s work, there are significant points in the review that require clarification and contextualization, particularly regarding the nuances and historical underpinnings of Black Dance and Deeply Rooted’s mission.

First and foremost, I must express my deep appreciation and respect for the gifted leadership of Artistic Director Nicole Clarke-Springer. Her brilliant choreography, tireless leadership, and impassioned vision were evident on that stage. In taking on the artistic mantle of the company, Nicole has not only upheld Deeply Rooted’s mission and values, but has also infused the company with fresh energy and innovation.

Also deserving of recognition is Makeda Crayton, Deeply Rooted’s new Executive Director. Working behind the scenes, her leadership has been pivotal as the company continues to grow, including the expansion of its artistic programming, the breaking of ground for the new Deeply Rooted Center for Black Dance and Creative Communities, and the cultivation of community engagement efforts that deepen its impact in Chicago and beyond.

Deeply Rooted’s work is grounded in authenticity, shaped by the enduring legacy of Black Dance, and propelled by a mission that extends well beyond the stage. My intention in responding to Warnecke’s review is not to engage in a contentious debate, but rather to open a respectful and collegial dialogue with valued colleagues. This is a cordial attempt to set the record straight, particularly where certain inaccuracies were expressed in the review. While we welcome and value critical discourse, it’s equally important to address misconceptions in order to offer a fuller and more accurate picture of the company’s journey and vision. This response is expressed in the spirit of honoring our legacy, the truth of our work, and the best inspired interests of the Chicago dance ecosystem at large.

On Jeffrey Page and the Black Dance Ecosystem

Warnecke opens with a sense of incredulity about how Deeply Rooted secured Jeffrey Page’s commitment to create a world premiere for the company. She writes, “It’s tempting to wonder how Deeply Rooted got Page to say yes.” This sentiment reveals a limited understanding of the interconnectedness within the Black Dance ecosystem. Page himself has expressed how profoundly inspired he has been by Deeply Rooted’s legacy, noting our company’s role in influencing his artistic journey. His collaboration with us reflects the mutual respect and deep ties that exist within the Black Dance community—a network that often goes unrecognized or undervalued by critics and the broader dance world.

This lack of awareness underscores a larger issue: mainstream critics frequently lack the curiosity or initiative to learn about and appreciate the histories, relationships, and aesthetic values of Black Dance. Without this knowledge, reviews such as Warnecke’s fail to fully capture the depth and significance of what they critique. As someone who has dedicated over fifty years to this art form, I see this as a missed opportunity to honor the vast contributions of Black Dance and its progenitors.

The “Underdog” Label and Structural Inequities

Warnecke’s characterization of Deeply Rooted as a “bit of an underdog” reveals a broader misunderstanding of the systemic inequities Black Dance companies have historically faced. While we have never seen ourselves as underdogs, we have strategically navigated a funding landscape that has disproportionately favored white-led institutions.

The 2019 report Mapping the Dance Landscape in Chicagoland highlights stark funding disparities, noting that over 56% of grant dollars go to just three majority-white institutions, while only 9% support dance rooted in non-white or ethnic traditions. In this inequitable environment, many smaller, Black-led companies are left to operate on shoestring budgets—making the achievements of organizations like Deeply Rooted all the more remarkable.

Despite these challenges, we have consistently upheld impeccable artistic standards, nurtured world-class talent, and maintained a commitment to cultural integrity. Our work is not about competing with the so-called “big dogs” but about aligning with our mission to educate, uplift, and inspire through dance. This is our form of “big dogging,” rooted in service to our community and the preservation of our artistic legacy.

Cultural Integrity and the Weight of Legacy

Warnecke describes Deeply Rooted as a “late bloomer,” citing the upcoming $20 million South Side dance center as evidence that we are no longer “underdogs.” While I celebrate this milestone alongside our co-founders, new leadership, staff, and board, it is important to provide deeper context about the foundational work that made this achievement possible.

The vision for the Deeply Rooted Dance Center took shape in 2018—first during my tenure as Artistic/Executive Director, then evolving as Creative Director. As is often the case, the company faced a dual challenge: upholding artistic excellence while building the infrastructure needed to support a growing organization and envisioned institution. Wearing both artistic and executive hats, I worked tirelessly—fostering relationships with key stakeholders who shared our vision, and securing initial funding to help bring that vision to life. This effort laid the groundwork for establishing a permanent home for Deeply Rooted and its partners on Chicago’s South Side.

By the time I completed my tenure in 2022, the vision for the dance center and the foundational funding to support it were established. This strategic groundwork positioned the new Artistic and Executive Directors to work alongside the development team, board, and capital campaign committee—on which I continue to serve—to bring this project to fruition. The dance center is not simply an infrastructure milestone: it is the culmination of years of visioning, planning, and overcoming systemic barriers to ensure that Deeply Rooted and its partners have a sustainable home for future generations.

Our work has always been grounded in authenticity, shaped by the lived experiences and teachings of Black Dance pioneers such as Bernice Johnson, Lee Aca Thompson, and Alvin Ailey. These foundational influences inform my commitment to cultural integrity and the deliberate pace at which we build our legacy. Achieving sustainability in this framework requires patience and resilience, especially given the systemic inequities that delay access to funding and resources for Black-led organizations.

Warnecke’s suggestion that we are “no longer underdogs” because of a single capital achievement oversimplifies the decades-long effort it has taken to establish a foundation for Deeply Rooted’s growth. Although essential, our trajectory has never been solely about reaching financial or infrastructural milestones; it has been about aligning every step with our mission to preserve cultural authenticity, uplift our community, and create opportunities for the next generation of artists. This is a legacy built on more than buildings: it is built on the values, teachings, and perseverance of a community committed to artistic and cultural excellence.

On the Misrepresentation of Aesthetic Values

Warnecke’s description of Jeffrey Page’s Lifted is telling in what it omits. While she highlights the gospel-infused music and elements of vernacular jazz, she fails to acknowledge the African aesthetic at the heart of Page’s work. This omission is significant as it reflects a broader tendency within mainstream criticism to overlook or minimize the African roots of contemporary Black Dance—and its profound influence on both classical and contemporary mainstream dance forms in every sense.

Critics should share what they know with knowledgeable clarity—and approach what they don’t know with genuine curiosity and a willingness to learn.

Similarly, her evaluation of legacy works like Gary Abbott’s Desire and my own Flack misses the mark by failing to contextualize their African aesthetic within Deeply Rooted’s broader mission, the ways in which these works contribute to the artistic growth of the company’s dancers, and the value our audience places on them. Warnecke dismisses these pieces as “dated” while praising Ulysses Dove’s Urban Folk Dance for its timelessness. This comparison reveals a bias that elevates so-called minimalist Western forms—such as those associated with George Balanchine and Alfred Hitchcock, both referenced in Warnecke’s review—while overlooking their foundational connection to African aesthetics. Additionally, should critics be the ones to determine which elements of a company’s repertoire are deemed worthy of preservation or celebration?

On the Audience and Community Response

Warnecke’s critique of the evening’s “long night” overlooks a crucial detail: the audience’s overwhelming enthusiasm. The joy and energy in the Auditorium Theatre were undeniable, with nearly 2,000 people fully engaged and deeply moved by the performances. This response speaks to the community’s connection to our work and their recognition of the authenticity and integrity we bring to the stage. Kathy D. Hey’s review in Third Coast Review offers a more insightful reflection of the diverse audience’s experience that night.

The Need for Informed Criticism

In closing, I’d like to address the broader implications of Warnecke’s review. While critics are entitled to their opinions, they are not entitled to misrepresent or minimize the historical record or significance of Black-led institutions. Black organizations deserve to be reviewed by writers who understand our aesthetic values, honor the communities we serve, and approach our work with curiosity and respect.

The fact that Deeply Rooted is in the process of achieving a significant capital campaign, continues its legacy in commissioning works by celebrated choreographers, and actively inspires new generations of dancers is a testament to our resilience, vision, and enduring impact. My hope is that critics approach these achievements with an understanding of their depth, rather than filtering them through personal or cultural misinformation or biases.

Deeply Rooted’s legacy is not only about presenting inspiring, life-affirming dance—it is equally about advancing equity, preserving cultural integrity, and catalyzing meaningful change. These are the values that guide our work, and they deserve to be understood, honored, and uplifted.

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Kevin Iega Jeff is an accomplished dancer, award-winning choreographer, acclaimed artistic director, respected dance educator, and innovative executive leader. He creates transcendent works while inspiring those around him to foster extraordinary lives, onstage and off, through dance/art-making.

Hot, live and otherwise: an interview & response by Rachel Lindsay-Snow

Image captured by by Robbie Sweeny

Hot, live and otherwise

Performed on November 16-17, 2024 at The Drucker Center

Creator + Performer: Sophie Minouche Allen

Sound Designer + Performer (Chicago): Chien-An Yuan

Lighting Designer + Technical Director: Arabella Zurbano (Chicago), Del Medoff (San Francisco)

Prop Designer: Arabella Zurbano

Costume Designer: Sophie and Karin Minouche Allen in collaboration with Crimson Moeller

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I was first drawn to Sophie Minouche Allen when I saw an image advertising her forthcoming dance piece Hot, live and otherwise: Allen is leaning back, holding a cinder block, balancing it on thigh and chest. Years prior, in my own movement and studio-art practice, I had also worked at length with a cinder block: thinking through concepts of weight, tension, precarity, and grief. When Allen agreed to my writing about the work, sent over a description of the piece, and we had a post-performance interview–the threads of connection in our interests were delightfully overwhelming. 

Hot, live and otherwise is a dance solo by Sophie Minouche Allen with soundscape collaborator Chien-An Yuan. A first draft was shared on May 17, 2024 in bim bom’s TIN CAN (Chicago). The solo officially premiered at the ODC Theatre in FACT/SF’s 2024 Summer Dance Festival Program 2. An extended, second iteration was shared November 16-17 at the Drucker Center in Chicago, IL. The work is inspired by the 1981-2000 anti-nuclear protests in the Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camp in Berkshire, England and is catalyzed by divergent familial tracings and other unsettled life fragments that get stuck between rocks and hard places. The work navigates degrees of separation and holds spontaneity, grief and pleasure in proximity to disaster (from the project description). 

Image captured by McCall McClellan

Allen and I began our conversation discussing the use of objects and materials in Hot, live, and otherwise, their function as placeholders, and this concept as a throughline throughout the piece. “I’m a gatherer”, states Allen, “The cinderblock began as a stand-in for the hourglass object (which was being fabricated by collaborator Arabella Zurbano). I’m really bad at pantomiming and there was a cinder block used to prop the door open in the space I was rehearsing in and I looked at it and thought, “oh this’ll work”. …[Then] it became integral to what I was doing…and weight became more important in the piece as a thread.”

Image captured by Gabriela Chavez

The cinder block functioned literally as a placeholder, but also conceptually. The porous, coarse, heavy block taught Allen’s body how to hold something else. I began to see parallels of the ways our experiences of love and loss can function as teachers to help us hold future desires or trauma. Allen also brought to Hot, live and otherwise the recent passing of their maternal grandmother: Yvonne Hulscher Bernstein. Oma (meaning grandma in Dutch) is someone Allen described as both a lover and a fighter, a trinket lady, and a survivor. The cinder block materialized a weight of loss that Allen had already been holding within herself, and also served as a portal to learn how to hold that same weight differently. Allen states: “There were lots of opportunities to placehold. [My grandmother] donated her body to science, so we don’t even have her remains. …When I was in rehearsals, I had this realization that the cinder block is around the size of an urn. When I am really cradling it, and spinning with it, there are even moments of joy in the motion of the spinning–this is when I was like “every object is Oma, every object is weight, every object is grieve, every object is time.”. …When I would start the spins [with the cinder block], I would actively think “oh good, I’m hugging my grandma.”

Image captured by Gabriela Chavez

The cinder block was a placeholder for the hourglass object, which in turn was also its own type of placeholder. “There was something about the silhouette shape…that reminded me of a nuclear explosion’s mushroom cloud and also on its side looks like an infinity symbol. …One of the direct actions that the women in the Greenham Common Women's Peace Camp did was to make fake blood as partial commentary on what bloodshed looks like during conflict and also challenging the public and private sphere through references to gender and menstrual blood. They would throw this concoction (red paint and/or a mixture of flour water and food coloring) onto the windshields of vehicles leaving the base. The sand/gravel in the hourglass was meant to reference the red from that.” At the same time Allen states, “my relationships to the objects and what they mean and what they could mean is very fluid, even through the moment of performance.” This expansion of symbolism exists for Allen at a moment when a portion of the audio shifts to a poem Allen had written that Chien decided to include in the soundscore. Allen had given the poem to Chien, thinking it would be distorted, but when full portions were included, with a reference specifically to ashes, it is at that moment that the dust and rocks filling the hourglass object become for Allen like the ashes of her grandmother. “Hearing my voice saying those words made those moments of picking up the hourglass even more charged for me,” states Allen.

Image captured by by Robbie Sweeny

Allen ends our discussion with this final, lovely sentiment: “when I first started thinking about the piece, Oma was still alive, but had memory loss, and now has passed, so [Oma] is haunting the work: in the most loving way.”

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You can read the full interview between writer, Rachel Lindsay-Snow & performer Sophie Allen here.

Rachel Lindsay-Snow is a Chicago-based artist and writer working in performance, installation, drawing, poetry, memoir, and essay. They received an MFA from UIUC in Visual Arts, with a graduate minor in Dance in 2020. They are a Luminarts Fellow with select solo shows at Krannert Art Museum, Swedish Covenant Hospital, North Park University, and The Front Gallery New Orleans. They are a member of Conscious Writers Collective and Out of Site Chicago Artist Collective.

Khecari's TEND: a response by Deidre Huckabay

photo by Kristin Weinberg of Tend directed by Julia Antonick - pictured performers Helen Lee - audience member pictured Robin Davis -  furniture by Jonathan Meyer & Heather LaHood - costumes and upholstery by Jeff Hancock

Tend directed by Julia Antonick - Khecari

when : Jan 10th - 26th 2025

where : John Michael Kohler Arts Center

and

August - October 2023

where: Nature Play Center & Gunder House -  Chicago

photo by Kristin Weinberg of Tend directed by Julia Antonick - pictured performers Enid Smith, Helen Lee and Gina Hoch-Stall - furniture by Jonathan Meyer & Heather LaHood - costumes and upholstery by Jeff Hancock

photo by Kristin Weinberg of Tend directed by Julia Antonick - pictured performers Gina Hoch-Stall and Helen Lee - furniture by Jonathan Meyer & Heather LaHood - costumes and upholstery by Jeff Hancock

photo by Kristin Weinberg of Tend directed by Julia Antonick  - furniture by Jonathan Meyer, Heather LaHood, Jeff Hancock

photo by Kristin Weinberg of Tend directed by Julia Antonick - pictured performers Chih-Hsien Lin and Gina Hoch-Stall - audience pictured Deidre Huckabay - furniture by Jonathan Meyer & Heather LaHood - costumes and upholstery by Jeff Hancock

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Deidre Huckabay (they) is an artist, writer, and flutist. Their artwork, work-for-money work, lifework, and everyday habits and rituals flow from a belief that liberation is possible in every lifetime, for every living being. They are a Co-Artistic Director at Mocrep and co-owner of the record label Parlour Tapes+.