The Emily "Lineage" Dance Experience
You can watch the dance at https://vimeo.com/1126837600
My experience regarding “Lineage,” by Zeitgeist Dance Theatre, was one of the most moving and emotionally fulfilling experiences of my life, and also one of personal growth. If you had asked me if I’d ever considered my heritage, my weavings, and I being brought to life through dance, I would have asked “what do you mean? How is that possible? Why would anyone do that?” Well, I can now confirm that weaving and heritage can be brought to life and expressed through dance in the most ethereal of ways. Even more surprising to me was how the events leading up to and my inclusion in this dance would change me as a person. But here we are. And here is my story.
(Here's a link to see clips and information about the dance for a little context: https://santafe.com/zeitgeist-dance-theatre-new-century-dance-project/
The way it all started was sitting with my coworker at Centinela Traditional Arts. I was charting new inventory while she was entering invoices, when suddenly my personal cell’s ringtone echoed through the showroom. I answered and Francisco Gella of Zeitgeist Dance Theatre quickly introduced himself and told me he’d gotten my phone number from Heidi of UNESCO, as she had suggested I be the artist they picked for their project. “We’d like to make a dance about your art form and heritage expressed through you. An artist taking an ancient art form into the modern world.” My coworker drew my face while I was listening to the project proposal, and I still laugh when I see it to this day. My mouth was open, and I was full of confusion, curiosity, and wonder.
My coworker's drawing of me on the phone
I, of course, agreed to be a part of the project, filled to the brim with excitement. I was honored to be chosen, and very very curious about what this would look like. It was immediately apparent that Francisco took his work very seriously, and there was no denying how professional and experienced he was as a choreographer and project head. Very quickly after agreeing, Francisco and others on the project asked to interview me at my studio and see what my weaving process looked like.
At first, I was a little embarrassed and honestly uncomfortable with the situation. First, I was worried they’d realize that I wasn’t actually special enough or interesting enough to choose for this project. I was very worried they’d regret their choice once they actually saw “me.” Second, my private studio is just a crowded room in my tiny apartment and it’s covered wall to wall in my K-pop (Korean pop music) posters, K-pop photocard collection, and a wall of sweet letters and accomplishments from my adventures as an artist. It doesn’t quite look like what I assume others expect a “respectable” artist’s studio to look like. I've watched artists portrayed in movies... mine is definitely different.
(My studio at the time. Full disclosure: I covered up the NCT posters because I found out that one of the former members that were on those posters did something absolutely terrible- but this is what it looked like at the time because I just didn't know until last month. I have since replaced them and will put up new NCT/NCT 127 posters I get in future albums)
However, this project really changed me as a person in its own small way, starting with the moment they walked in the door. Around the middle of last year, I started really getting pushed into being open about myself as more and more people started finding out about my existence and wanted to know more about me. It wasn’t a bad thing, and in fact was quite an honor and good for me; however, it was a struggle because I sometimes lack the confidence to be comfortable in my own skin. I still don’t quite know if I fit what people expect and want, and I really don’t want to disappoint anyone, considering I’m from a generational family and am in the spotlight.
If you haven't met me, people have many things to say about my personality, both to my face and to my parents. We get "bubbly," "energetic," "quite the character," "unique," "a delight," "fun," "passionate," "effervescent," and "hilarious," among other things (come meet me and find out if you want to give your input). I'm also incredibly emotional and can't hide what I'm feeling for anything. I cry easily, both from joy and sorrow. I'm a huge fangirl. I get so anxious I get sick. But I'm also very very full of joy and love for life. I love who I am. However, most of these are not your typical "first choice" words when describing someone "respectable." The pressure I experience and how much I worry about being a disappointment weighs on me a lot. So, allowing such influential people to see what my raw life really looked like and have it made so public, was hard for me and my lack of confidence (especially at the time).
To my surprise, everyone was excited by my studio and what I was like as a human being and artist. I talked about my artistic expression, about the piece I was working on, my weaving process, my artist’s journey, and where my passions come from and where they lie. I got more and more comfortable throughout the visit and just started talking from my heart without hesitation despite the initial anxiety of being filmed.
To my delight, Fancisco texted me later to say that they had “definitely picked the right person” and that he had lots of ideas after talking to me. This was a giant step into into accepting that my rawest form was something worthy and that I, as a person, shouldn’t be so ashamed of who I am in a professional realm. One aspect that healed my heart was when he said “the third section is about K-pop! We couldn’t do this dance without it after talking to you! You’re going to love it.” I squealed when he played the composed music piece for me over the phone because, lo and behold, “Permission to Dance” by BTS made it into the music. “Permission to Dance” was the song that got me into Korean pop music and culture, which is hugely responsible for where I am today in my career. Without my drive to have a K-pop idol wear one of my Chimayo weaving fashion design pieces, I never would have pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone.
A little context here. I’ve been being put down for my love of other cultures’ content (especially anime and K-pop) ever since I started openly expressing my interests and how deep they run, and that has always stuck with me in a painful way. So, at that time, I’d been very anxious about being so open about it, specifically in a professional realm. I’ve had people tell me it’s childish, which is not how I want to be perceived by other professionals and people interested in my work. Zeitgeist’s team reacting this way was healing because the part of me that has been fascinated by Asian culture since I was a child (I also love Japan, Thailand, and China, and I consume so much content from other countries that Google assumed I speak Thai and Korean), the side of me I’ve been on and off anxious to show, was being not only accepted, but praised. That’s why it mattered so much to me when he praised it.
Me (pink arrow/only face not covered) in a Pokemon (a Japanese franchise) shirt when I was in 2nd grade, clearly enjoying having my picture taken. I still love Pokemon today.
Francisco kept me updated every step of the way, showing me clips of the dancers and the music, and he kept me involved as much as he possibly could. That, in itself, was heartwarming, and absolutely fascinating to witness the process in such a hands-on way! I loved meeting the dancers too. Some of them were excited to meet me, and even asked to take pictures with me. They were much younger than I am, despite them originally thinking I was only a few years older than them (most of these dancers were in their late teens and early twenties). They were amazing dancers, by the way. Talented, serious about their craft, and just stunning on stage.
When he sent the clip of the practice choreography of “weaving,” attempting to capture the movements of the loom and process, I started to connect dots as to what this was going to look like. He also sent me the dance to “K-pop,” the third section, and I was just so excited to see it. Even just going to the dance practice shifted my perspective on what dance could be. When I visited the dance studio to see a WIP and meet the dancers, it was still rough around the edges, but it was coming together nicely. I still feel guilty on how hard it was to not laugh from discomfort when I hear my voice used in the music. I obsessed over that because of how rude I felt and the way that felt- it was weird, and I still feel embarrassed about how big of a deal I made that to this day. When I left, I was very excited to go home and tell my family and friends about it.
Between the rehearsal and the dance itself, two significant events occurred. First, Pasa Tiempo wrote an article about the dance (as did the Albuquerque Journal), the International Folk Art Market and UNESCO’S participation (which included my family and I), and I. I told you that I’d been more comfortable with the K-pop thing, but I soon found out how shaky that foundation actually was once it came out.
As I was entering IFAM to join my family at the booth, I ran into a few acquaintances that had read the article. One, a very famous Spanish Market Artist I had always respected, told me “I read your article. You’re famous now.” That was how I learned that it had come out that morning. Other than that, I really only knew what I’d said in the interview and had panicked that I’d make my family look bad, or, as usual, disappoint people. Having someone completely unrelated that I viewed as a celebrity telling me this shook me and quickly decided to look for the article. Before that could happen, however, I had one more encounter.
I went to get caffeinated tea at the refreshment room for artists and volunteers (I'm one of those people that needs caffeine), and while I was getting hot water, I heard a woman say “Hey! You’re the K-pop girl!” I almost dropped my cup before I turned to see a woman I had never seen before in my life waiting to talk to me. She was one of the volunteers, which I could tell by the nametag. She told me that she’d read the article, and for some reason my anxiety took over and I told her about how scary it was to have my love for K-pop published so publicly. We had a heart to heart before I left back for the booth.
By the time I got back, my dad had acquired the article, and he handed it to me telling me “It’s a good article.” It was a good article, spotlighting everything it meant to address. The dance, UNESCO, IFAM, and myself, all neatly tied into one cohesive and well written article. They had included one of the silliest facts I’d only shared with people I’d met in person and felt more comfortable with: I want a K-pop idol to wear my clothing designs. It was relevant because of how prominent K-pop was to the dance, which seemed to be an interesting talking point. I was flooded with embarrassment, and thought “it’s out there now, there’s no going back.”
You can read it here: https://www.santafenewmexican.com/pasatiempo/a-weaving-rebel-threads-k-pop-dance-and-folk-art-into-a-vibrant-tapestry/article_d3164b11-0cfb-49ad-9e37-e49b1af9f609.html
The Albuquerque Journal also wrote an article on the dance and I: https://www.abqjournal.com/lifestyle/article_cba8b877-0756-402e-aead-157cfadb2cd1.html
The next day, however, one of the most beautiful things to happen to me as a human being in my career happened. While I was away from the booth, someone had dropped off a card for me and had left it with my parents. I opened it, and it was personally addressed to me from someone I’d never met or seen before in my life. She had read the article and written me the most heartwarming words in a card that was specially designed to cater to the details included in the article. It read “[I’m a fellow BTS fan]. It was so wonderful to read that your weaving is inspired by BTS. I truly hope that they wear your designs one day.” My heart melted, and from that moment on I have never once felt like being open about my love for K-pop was something best hidden.
During the preview dance the week before the actual performance, everyone else got a taste of the dance. It was a small gathering of interested parties, and everyone loved it (maybe not as much as me, but that was hard to do). I was almost late because I’d spent the past five days weaving, designing, and sewing my first all-original fashion design piece to wear to the premier (I felt it was important because the newspaper promoting the show talked about my goals of fashion design). I didn’t realize how intimate of a gathering it was until I made my way in and they talked about the event. Francisco and Yusha-Marie talked about their masterpiece in depth and talked about the company and the dancers. They talked about what it meant to them, the symbolism, the choreography, and the relevance of their journeys. The intricacy of the design captivated the entire audience, myself included.
After the event we showed the dancers our weavings for the first time. Also the debut of my first all-original fashion design piece (it still needed some pressing and final adjustments): a bolero jacket
At the end there was an interview and question and answer session with my family, Francisco Gella and Yusha-Marie Sorzano, and then we showed our weavings. I don’t remember much about the interview, but showing the dancers our weavings was fun, and much of the audience came to get to know us as well after the itinerary of events. I quite like more intimate settings, I love getting to know people, and I love new friends. Many people came to talk to me specifically about my preservation work and art, which is my area of expertise and comfort topic. To my delight, two people came to check out the dance to meet me and talk about K-pop. It was an unexpected surprise that the K-pop aspect brought people that might otherwise not have been interested.
Then the day finally came. I’d been teaching at the Espanola Valley Fiber Arts Center all day (the drive between the city of the dance, Albuquerque, and Espanola is 1.5 hours) and was cutting it close to the time I was supposed to arrive. Many of my friends had decided it was something they just couldn’t miss, and a couple were arriving with me. I got back to my apartment in Albuquerque, threw on the dress and jacket I’d made while I waited for them to arrive, and put on lipstick. My friends watched me frantically get ready, which, in retrospect, was an unnecessary panic. In total, it took a total of 20 minutes, so made it to the National Hispanic Cultural Center with some time to spare. Because of the time crunch and teaching, I hadn’t thought that much about the dance itself, as I was just focused on making it to the venue on time. So now it was time to settle in and focus on what was about to come.
Once I was there, I found the audience was filled with friendly faces. Students, friends, and even some of my family flew in from other states. The people sitting in front of me turned out to be collectors of my parents’ weavings who recognized me, and we got to talking about my work and how hyped we were about the dance. They told me that they planned on buying one of my pieces as well, and they couldn’t miss this. Heidi of UNESCO was sitting next to me and her words from a few weeks prior echoed through my mind “try not to be overwhelmed by having a dance about you.” I don’t think I was quite prepared for that aspect by that point, but I was absolutely prepared to watch all of the hard work and artistry that had come together to make what we had all gathered to watch.
The lights went off and a small into and opening acts came on, but nothing had prepared me for “Lineage” on the big stage. While hearing my voice over the speakers sprinkled throughout the music pieces had been emotionally triggering in the past, it went away quickly this time. The entirety of the music and dance overpowered everything else I had been feeling and replaced my thoughts with nothing but the consumption of its elegance and unique artistry. One thing that hit me for the first time was depth and magic of the music. The more I listened, and the more they quoted me, the more I realized that I had contributed to the majesty this project. I know I said over and over again in interviews and in general “they made me sound so interesting!” It was quite a selfish thought to have while watching, but I had never considered myself to be interesting or so professional sounding. I know me, and I know how silly and "unprofessional" I perceive myself to be. I think about it every day. But my part, my identity and experience, fit perfectly into this art piece. Bits and pieces of the interview in my studio where I talked about my art and weaving and family echoed through the auditorium. The composer took my ramblings and made it cohesive and beautiful.
Moving out of chronological order for a moment, I received a message from the composer Ryan Birdwell over Instagram some time after the show. He wrote me a sweet message that moved me to tears. He told me about his process, which I hadn’t considered up until that point (again, I just lacked exposure to this genre of art). A lot of the percussion noises were sounds from my speech and the sounds of my loom. He told me about how he took the rhythm and flow of my voice and “excited mental rhythm when talking [about what I do],” and told me that the interview was inspirational. Again, it was eye opening to me to see how other people perceive me, and in such a positive light. The sheer amount of creatives that came together for this project was mind-blowing.
However, the truly overwhelming power of dance hit me at the section meant to capture the motions of weaving. The shuttle moving through the warp and the changing of sheds. With just one simple prop, the flow of the human body, and music, I immediately saw the vision and connected with it on a spiritual level. The piece was both emotional and physical, and it pulled my soul out of my body. They had captured weaving in all of its being and I could feel a piece of me make its way on stage with the dancers. That absolutely stunned me. You could see the shed changes and the spools moving through the shed, you could see the colors, and you could see the patterns in the weavings. I cannot praise them enough for what they did, and to be honest, I don’t know if anyone but Francisco Gella and Yusha-Marie Sorzano, the group of young dancers, and Ryan Birdwell could have pulled it off. You could tell they put all of their years of experience and souls into bringing this to life. It was a true masterpiece.
A photo from Zeitgeist's Instagram of the props used to create the loom
When we got on stage afterwards to talk, my parents gave such deep and meaningful feedback. I was filled with excitement, gratitude, and joy, but wasn’t articulate. I’m embarrassed by my speech (I always panic when I do public speaking), but it was raw and unplanned. But that was so brief, and hardly made an impact. What truly mattered was when I was swept away by the case afterwards. I got to go behind the curtains with everyone after the conclusion. The dancers cried because they were sad it was over and were moved by the experience (both?), and I got to see how much this dance really brought them all together. The bond between the team was so beautiful to witness, in case you’ve never seen anything like that. Only the people behind the scenes really got to see the beating heart of the show. The dancers and project leaders. Everyone who had participated had become a family, and even though I hadn’t been there for much of it, they had included me in their family. A group of the dancers and Francisco and Yusha-Marie treated me as though I had always been there through the whole thing. One of the girls told me that she felt like she knew me and had been there because they had been listening to my passion every day for a month.
When they brought us to the stage after the dance
After the show, people from my life came out to meet me, and then, just like that, it was over. We all went home. It was so weird because the past month had been all about the dance, and then it had ended. We all went our separate ways. People who had become such an important part of my everyday life, despite us barely spending time together, dispersed. While they’re all going on to do more dance projects, this dance project will be THE dance project for me for the rest of my life.
There’s much much more to say about the dance itself, but listening to me talk about it will mean nothing compared to watching it yourself. I strongly encourage you to check it out, as it is one of the most beautiful works of art I’ve ever seen. I might be biased, as I probably got more out of it than anybody, but so many people came up to me after to tell me that it had moved them. My mom was moved to tears as a weaver watching her craft be turned into dance. It’s not the only one by any means, but it’s a dance that means something. And it means something important. And it’s not just me, it’s not just my family. This dance means something to my people, to weaving, and to history. It made an impact on me, and there will never be anything that can match it, at least not to me. It took me months to write this, but this essay is the final chapter of my life: when Zeitgeist Dance Theater changed my life.
Again, you can watch the dance at https://vimeo.com/1126837600
