Words by Elspeth Wilson. This article is part of our REWRITE series with Chisenhale Dance Space’s Artist Community.
So much of the dance world traditionally relies on binaries; who’s a performer and who’s the audience, what’s the stage and what’s not, where the performance ends and where it begins. These binaries exist to create expectations and legibility for both dancers and audiences, and even when they are subverted, that very subversion only works by instilling a reaction against what we have been taught to expect. Binaries of gender epitomise the way dance has traditionally been structured, particularly in classical dance and partner dance, where roles have been assigned according to ideas of who is ‘male’ and ‘female’. A dance world steeped in binary organising principles of gender – sitting within a wider world or swinging arts cuts and transphobic rhetoric – presents multiple intersecting problems for trans artists and audiences.
As tobi Adebajo, an anti-disciplinary artist whose work centres Black trans safety, queerness and access says, “It’s not like trans people are new or something that’s so groundbreaking. People who are ‘other’ have existed as long as humanity has existed.” Many trans artists are carving out their own spaces where they can feel safe and create trans-led work. But one of the problems – particularly at a time where artists’ incomes are very low, especially for LGBT+ artists – is that large institutions gatekeep much of the power, space and funding that enable artists to create work whilst getting paid for it.
In such spaces, trans-led work remains rare. For Ashley Lim, a queer Malaysian movement artist and facilitator, there’s a frustration that many institutions refer to ‘diversity’ but don’t follow through on this apparent preoccupation with tangible support; as Ashley highlights, “first and foremost, you have money, you have power; give that money and power to those who don’t have that. Let trans people create space for themselves. Give them support, money and help to do that.” They point out that a lot of conversations around diversity can feel tokenistic and say, “I’m not going to be a tick box.”
tobi notes that even when trans artists do get to work with institutions, there’s often an unfair and harmful expectation to provide unpaid labour in the form of education about working with trans artists. “The part that is kind of violent is inviting trans artists to work with you and not having any understanding of gender outside what you know of the binary. And then creating situations where they are then having to do the work,” they explain. This creates a double burden on artists who are already marginalised and less likely to receive opportunities, preventing them from focusing on their art. Tobi points out that it can be positive for organisations to bring in trans consultants but that this is a separate role and should be remunerated appropriately.
When trans artists are given the funding, time and resources to create work within institutions, the process can be expansive and nourishing – if they’re given the right support and are allowed to take the lead. Anders Duckworth, a British-Swedish choreographer, dancer and visual artist with a multi-disciplinary practice, is currently working on Little M, a trans retelling of The Litle Mermaid, with The Place. The work is being made with a majority trans and non-binary production crew and a fully trans and non-binary cast. There’s also a process dramaturg involved “whose focus is having their ear to the ground”, Anders highlights, and who can anticipate potential issues before they become problems.
The rehearsals for Little M have a quiet space and there’s flexibility around missing rehearsals, as Anders points out many trans artists have treatments that are hard to schedule around physical activity. They note that “most of the cast feel uncomfortable with gender-specific toilets and changing rooms,” indicating the ways that our material culture is organised around binary ideas of gender.
Whilst Anders has felt well-supported, they are very conscious that this positive experience working with an institution “is not the norm for a lot of trans people.” They also note that as the dance world is so binary perhaps this is the reason they were initially drawn and continue to work in contemporary dance as it’s “a little bit easier” than other forms of dance from this perspective.
For tobi, it’s fundamental that institutions recognise that there will be issues within the way they work and display openness to acknowledge and work on this, as with Anders’ experience with The Place. “Getting to a general acceptance of the fact there’s work to do would be a great starting point before we get to solutions,” tobi explains. “Are you going to acknowledge that your institution is problematic and there are levels of transphobic behaviours that you don’t understand because you’ve never had to challenge them before?”
Such openness and willingness to learn and change has benefits for audience members as well as artists themselves. Anders points out that basic things like gender-specific toilets make many trans audience members feel uncomfortable or excluded. They acknowledge that changes to buildings can be “tricky because arts organisations are strapped for cash, but I think it’s really important we push for that.”
“It’s also the responsibility of the organisation,” Anders continues, noting that organisations can signal their intention to support trans people and acknowledge work needs to be done even when on a budget. They give an example of an organisation in London that recognised that the binary toilets in their space were far less than ideal and did what they could in terms of signage whilst saying they were working towards a longer-term solution. “It’s not perfect but it’s an acknowledgement. I think it makes people feel a bit more welcomed into the space. It gives a sense of striving towards something.”
And yet even with examples of good practice, there remains questions of how much can truly change within the structures of institutions – especially for those that are so embedded in the various binaries of the dance world. tobi believes that “institutions aren’t going to help us be free.” Although there are problems that particularly impact trans people, so much of what trans artists struggle with is the material conditions of low wages and precarity that impact most artists, particularly those who are marginalised. Ashley articulates; “I would say dismantle institutions. Make everything grassroots. Make everything people-centred. Give the money to people whose voices are being silenced who aren’t doing so well.”
One of the most impactful things institutions could do would be to step back as gatekeepers and hand resources and money over to trans artists themselves. As Ashley says, “why do we have to prove that marginalised voices are valuable? Why do we have to prove that art is valuable? Why do we have to convince the people who have power that trans lives and trans rights are important in this world right now?”
When thinking about the (dance) worlds trans artists dream of, there are glimmers of hope – most of which come from artists’ own communities rather than institutions – and still so much to be done. Anders takes heart in the number of trans students graduating from dance schools, noting “it feels like the idea that there’s a binary gender and you have to exist in one or the other is slowly being dismantled.” For tobi, moving away from binaries allows opportunities for interconnectedness, like in a mycelial network, “where we can all tap into a resource because we’re all connected. We don’t have to wait for an institution to give us what we need to be able to create the work.”
So many of the things that could improve the lives of trans artists – more funding, better pay, greater flexibility, quiet spaces, the list goes on – have huge potential advantages for all artists, particularly those whose identity exists at the intersections of multiple marginalisations. In creating Little M, Anders has found that a lot of the accommodations also make things better for neurodivergent people involved in the production too. As tobi says, “when you’re thinking about marginalised groups you can’t think about just one, you need to think about all of them.” And, in thinking about all of them, that leads to nuanced conversations and begins to create the conditions to care for all artists and audiences – and maybe even starts to erase that binary.
But the struggle to create better, more trans-inclusive futures is exhausting and the baton needs to be picked up by allies and perhaps even institutions with funding and permanent staff. As Ashley says, “I hope for a world where trans people can be seen, respected, accepted and trusted for who they want to be and what they want to create. To not have to prove their worth and their gender. We need to look towards not relying on institutions to create spaces for trans people but to focus on distributing resources, have many small grassroots organisations or people organising, creating and having discussions on how we can make a better world for all of us because we are not free if all of us aren’t free.”