Reflections on Creative Process by Mirah Kellc Moriarty and Rodrigo Esteva, Co-Founders of DANCE MONKS
Photo: Mirah Kellc Moriarty | Body Divination practices in Ireland
October 3, 2024
MIRAH: I was born in the land of the Abenaki (of Vermont) and am of Irish and Slavic traveler-people descent. Rodrigo Esteva, my life partner for the last 25 years, was born and raised in Mexico City and is of Nuu Savi descent, People of the Rain of Oaxaca. I have been working with Divination as a practice, working process, and way of life with Rodrigo as a collaborating artist since our inception as DANCE MONKS in 1999. It has traditionally been a private aspect of my life's work, and only recently have I felt nudged enough to share aspects of it more publicly.
I understand Divination as a kind of deep listening or multi-dimensional communication, a way to gain insight from other beings who speak/ communicate/ express in their own ways. As dancers, we often practice (what we call) Body Divination, listening to our bones speak, the emotions and stories held there that are ready to be heard. We transmute pain through movement. We also respond physically in response to the land as a regular practice, especially when creating Site-Specific works. As dancers with over thirty-five years of dedicated training in Improvisation and Site-responsive work, we cultivate and sensitize our physical bodies as conduits for deep listening in response to the land and the people. We also work with Divination tools (including books, water, clouds, cards, and pieces of wood) as a medium for communication and study.
Photo (Below): Mirah | Body Divination practices in Bay Area
The guidance received from these readings is deeply valued in many parts of the world where folkways of relating to the land are still alive, albeit sometimes hidden due to the history of religious persecution or colonization—including in Europe. The Indigenous Sami of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia refer to the ones who see as Noaidis, in Ireland, they are sometimes known as Filidh, and in Slovakia, Jasnovidka.
To recover ancestral memory and in committing to practices of decolonization, Rodrigo and I have been exchanging Divination practices inherited from our ancestral lineages every morning at sunrise (and throughout the day, as needed) as a way to view life from multiple perspectives and saturate our creative process with guidance and meaning.
Rodrigo has been learning to read the Tonapohualli, an ancient Amoxtli made by the Indigenous hands of his people, previous to the invasion of the Anahuac, meaning the land between the seas in Nahuatl. This enlivened document is a guide for life and a tool for Divination. As a daily practice, we have been "reading" this book together, learning to interpret its glyphs with the assistance of experts in Mexico. We have started to call this approach, or learning, "Colorful thinking" or "Multi-dimensional reading." These ways of reading would be useful tools for bridging learning differences in educational settings. As parents of a son with dyslexia (who ended up at Stanford University), we recognize the under-explored value of different approaches to learning. The Tonapohualli has become like a wise elder walking alongside us as we work as artists in service. Yesterday was the day of Huehuecoyotl (old Coyote). We walked from sunrise to sunset in the mountains in our regular movement practice and made offerings to the local mountains and springs. Exiting the park, we saw an old coyote at arm's length, waiting.
Photo: Offerings of copal, amaranth, chocolate, and honey for the local mountain and river as part of Arte Migrante
I have also been working with Ogham, a practice that some Druidic scholars and practitioners relate to the earliest written language of the old Irish, originating from the branches of trees. The Irish traditionally venerate trees, especially the Hawthorn, as an entrance into the otherworld. This truth is still seen to this day with their rag tree traditions and ways of honoring the holy wells.
As an interdisciplinary experimental dance artist, I am devoted to listening to that which wishes to be spoken, the (at times hidden) stories and wisdom held deep in our bodies and the land, or what my Irish ancestors called Tuiscint na Talún. I have learned to approach the body as a place embedded with knowledge. As we are now working with seasonal and migrant farmworkers, this kind of movement training and way of seeing the body is essential and guides our way towards a deeper understanding of the importance of deep listening, to approach the body as a living, breathing archive.
Photo: Rodrigo Esteva in our daily practice of opening the Tonapohualli as part of Arte Migrante
RODRIGO:
Today is the day 6 Serpent of the Tonalpohualli. The snake is Tona (energy) that runs through the body and the land and has the capacity to renew herself.
I came to the study of the Amoxtli, ancient Mexican documents, in search of knowledge. I have focused on a precolonial document called the Tonalpohualli to explore how my Indigenous (Nuu Savi) ancestors and the ancient Mexicans understood and described concepts of the body, time, movement, and energy. At the time, I didn't relate to it as a decolonial practice, a concept that could suggest that we can shake off colonization. I did it instead as a way of approaching knowledge that has been forgotten, pushed to a tangent, and forced to go underground for centuries. In the times of the colonization of Mexico, approaching Amoxtlis, owning or hiding them, was severely punished by torture or death. These are the original banned books of my ancestors.
Some codex, however, survived the prosecution of the church and the Inquisition. The wisdom they contain remains relevant, and now that the persecution is over, it is time to learn from them. The knowledge left by the ancestors must be followed with dedication and persistence. I have been following their trail, studying with deep commitment, and responding to what they tell me through movement and words.
The divinatory aspect of Tonalpohualli arises from careful observation of nature, the sky, and its cycles. It has been beautiful to share this way of looking with Mirah. Our daily practice begins at sunrise with Divination as a starting point to generate ideas, "solve problems" and observe. The Amoxtli offers a substantial structure, a lens that allows us to bring our attention to what our ancestors recognized. Unlike a regular book, reading a codex or Amoxtli is multi-directional and multi-dimensional. The book speaks to several levels simultaneously. In the dance studio, we use this ancient tool to permeate our Contemporary practice and ignite new ideas.
Every morning, our readings complement each other and offer a fresh perspective, grounded in the ancestors' wisdom as we navigate this time and space. I understand the Tonalpohualli to be a sophisticated tool that practically addresses the management of our energy or, what my ancestors called, "Tona," a concept similar to "chi" in Chinese medicine. My in-depth studies and practice of Chinese Acupressure and Shiatsu over the last twenty years have provided essential insights as a bridge. As Mirah so eloquently and beautifully expresses it, through the "reading" or interpretation of codices, we approach a form of "colorful thinking."
The Anahuac's conception of space is radial, and this idea is reflected in the description of the rumbos of the Universe not as cardinal points, which offer a more restricted vision, but as areas of potential. We use these divinatory practices to train our perception, reflect, and act. This process has been essential in our work with the community of farmworkers we serve.
It is clear that the knowledge left by the ancestors is not the patrimony of an elite or of the academy. This knowledge, gathered by the Indigenous precolonial Academy, is accessible again at this historic moment, but only to those who have the discipline to approach it with committed practice.
The lessons offered by the Tonalpohualli are both powerful and practical. After some time of in-depth research, we are now in the process of sharing what we have found. Knowledge has no meaning if it is drowning in itself. It must be passed on.
We have been sharing some aspects of this knowledge with the farmworkers and I am now creating a curriculum rooted in Indigenous knowledge and Contemporary practice. Our "calli" (home) is still moving and shifting. Her walls are strong yet flexible. We are walking. Estamos caminando, abriendo camino.
Video of part of Rodrigo Esteva's daily reading of the Tonapohualli, 9/24
Comments