The following is a mini review of Impasse by musician/director John Clay followed by a conversation between himself and the show’s creator, Mufatau Yusef.
‘I wanted to hide my face and dehumanise the body. When the humanity is taken away, that’s when you want to have a look, and want to have the humanity put back.’
– Mufutau Yusuf, Creator and lead performer of Impasse
What does it mean to be Black? That’s not a question that any one Black artist can answer, and yet, it’s arguably a riddle that white liberal audiences are likely to believe to be answered when a show like Impasse comes along.
Mufutau Yusuf is an Irish dancer of Nigerian heritage, based in Brussels and now, thanks to funding and well founded belief from Ireland’s Art’s Council, his show Impasse has been hailed as a significant highlight at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe.
He and dance partner, Kennedy Muntanga (Kennedy Muntanga Dance Theatre) use extraordinary endurance (always moving or posing in a difficult posture), eye-catching skill and masterful choreography to detail their shared understanding of migration.
The otherworldly lighting work (overseen by lighting designer Matt Burke) casts Mufutau’s nude frame as a silhouette, robbing his body of its humanity. This choice is often contrasted with wild strobes which offer fleeting appearances of well honed physique on a seemingly endless run on the spot.
Alison Brown’s Laundry Bag God costume elevates Mufutau’s figure further into the metaphysical realm of half human half signifier being as he battles invisible antagonists on his journey. The eerie and oppressive sound effects and score (the great work of dual composers Tom Lane and Mick Donohue) are noteworthy, often reminiscent of arthouse classic, Eraserhead. And yet, these words cannot do justice to the acts they attempt to recapture.
The actions onstage have left people unable to satisfyingly relate what they have seen. That all being said, the what-does-it-mean-to-be-Black question has apparently been asked.
Reviews suggest this. Multiple audience write ups (male pundits in the majority) are quick to identify themselves as white before responding to Mufutau’s show, as if addressing a cultural monolith.
Can a Black-centered entertainment vehicle unlock some harpoon of a secret, an answer which punctures a verifiable hole in a society built on white supremacy? A hole yes, but as Mufutau and I joke in a conversation we have post interview, Black artists are often cast as some Morpheus figure in the minds of white attendees who wish to figure out ‘the Black thing’.
This Magical Negro construct has been part of the collective unconscious for so long now that truth be told, it’s a reliable way for an artist of colour to play up to and sell their trauma as a consumable morsel of a tale. Why settle for telling a personal story if you can curate an event which awakens the insecurities and white guilt of an audience starved of Black tales at an overwhelmingly white festival? The latter route is bound to be easier to access and monetise, right?
Moreover, the Black artist is not immune from dealing with their existence as part of a monolith, especially in a multicultural environment. It is easy to confuse the lazy generalisation with the often misrepresented journey of the migrant.
Separating oneself from an identity politik or at least questioning how one’s life runs adjacent to it rather than flattening its subjectivity to fit within and profit from it is the constant challenge. Perhaps this is why Mufutau’s honest and often uncomfortable production has made such a profound and impressive impact on white and Black audiences alike, although for different reasons.
Each of the shows I witnessed yielded standing ovations whilst my legs turned to jelly under the bulk of the show’s honesty.
Thankfully, for every review that claims to now ‘get’ the entirety of an experience, there are lines within each assessment that concede that Impasse is a show to be contemplated long after consumption. It’s not so easy to consign a near wordless showcase to an immediate past, the consumer’s eye already sizing up the next prescribed course on the entertainment menu.
Here is an interview conducted with Mufutau Yusuf after the first time I watched his show. Quietly spoken, filled with energy and constantly minding his inner concern, Mufutau offers his understanding of what led him to create Impasse.
Mufutau Yusuf: This is my second full length work, previously I made a solo work, Owe (2022). It was based on my ancestry. I wanted to archive my own people, we are very proverbial.
There is the distinction between Western record, which I find is institutional, more material, whereas African or more indigenous culture is basically more alive, more experiential, in the dance, in the food, in the words, in the textiles and also in the ritual.
What the West would call Voodoo is actually a whole spiritual practice which is connected to the gods. I wanted to find out more about my history.
I was brought up in Ireland even though I was born in Nigeria and that entails me to find that liminal space between the two. I was trying to reconcile them using visual projections and elements of Yoruba practices.
That was all very personal with me rediscovering my own roots and my path. After that I realised I wanted to take a departure into my next piece, me as a Black man now in this world, with my body now, here, in this Western world. What tools do I have to navigate it? What agency do I have?
The overarching idea was an exploration of racial politics. Migration, diaspora.
On a fundamental level, I didn’t want to be rhetorical on the stage. I didn’t want to make a statement. I wanted to go from a place where it’s personal. It’s personal to the person that I’m sharing the stage with, at this point it’s Kennedy. He was a replacement for my original partner, Luka Katangila from the Democratic Republic of Congo, but he had some visa issues, so he couldn’t come. That whole process helped us understand the experience of us being a Black man in this Western space, this Black body in a white space, but taking care not to over politicise my body.
It was more of ‘this is what I’m experiencing inside’. It took me on a journey of wanting to understand how visibility and invisibility relates to power. How do I use this Black body to reconcile with that? I took ideas from many writers, the idea of ‘double consciousness’ for example. Putting them all into the creative space, creating images and using the body in that space.
John Clay: What conversations did you have with your original dancer when discussing the show?
Mufutau: We both came into the space not really knowing each other to be honest. I knew I wanted to work with another Black male dancer, but there is a shortage of Black male contemporary dancers in this world. There’s a lot in Africa and the US, but in Europe you look around and well…
Luka is from the DRC. He’s got a residency in Belgium. He’s got a residency permit and has been living there for five years so, he’s not been in the Western space as long as I have, but he has an interesting story to tell. Funnily enough, we met on the way to the airport on the way to a show I didn’t see. How ironic that we met in the airport, us migrating to another space.
I came into the space with some photos and some words. Luka doesn’t come from that place. He’s not interested in materials or coming from a theoretical angle. He is concerned with an input. He would rather improvise. He’s a magician in a way.
John: Improvise? Like a musician when they jam?
Mufutau: Exactly. Like a musician. We got to know each other more through that process than we would by going for a beer and talking about our life. It comes through our work.
It’s therapeutic in a way that we both go through this process where we move through this story. We went through the multiplicity of experiences that we gained in our lifetimes navigating that in the studio.
When I was born I had a still born twin. I didn’t know it until coming up to the premiere, but Luka had gone through the same experience. We had a spiritual connection that I couldn’t understand but we were navigating it in that space. There is that thing that links us, beyond the fact that we’re both Black, we’re both men and in this Western space. Our shared experience, both of us meandering around each other … our actions felt consequential to each other and dependent upon each other, without being literal, but just being there. Does that make sense?
John: It makes a lot of sense. When you created a show for – let’s be honest – a predominantly white audience, did that affect what you decided to show?
Mufutau: Absolutely. One of the strongest parts of this piece is the fact that we gave the audience our back for forty minutes until we turned around. You don’t realise that you’re not seeing us, until we give it to you. I think that is the effect of a Black body in a white space.
In that space it’s not until there’s a protest, or a shooting, or something like that, it’s only then that you see us. But we are there, you know? It comes back to that idea of what is visible and what is made visible. What is invisible and what is made invisible. It’s all a power play.
John: Until there is a reason to question the long term dehumanisation of the Black diaspora, then we are faceless to them. So, was this an early decision to face away from the audience for forty minutes, or was it something that you found?
Mufutau: I found it, gradually. The first image that we had – the tableaux image… I always wanted to hide my face and dehumanise the body. When the humanity is taken away from someone, that’s when you want to have a look, and want to have the humanity put back.
John: The laundry bag character conveyed a conflation between belongings and personhood. Can you tell us more about this?
Mufutau: The laundry bags were very much about the migration for Black people. One day in the space I was thinking, If you were traveling, what god do you take with you to guide you through that journey? When we talk about gods we’re talking about our ancestors. I wanted a figure to protect you through that. It all led to building this figure to be … the god of migration, if that makes sense? (Laughs).
John: Bruce Lee saw himself as a philosopher who chose to express himself through martial arts. Do you see dancing as a way to express your philosophy?
Mufutau: It feels like it’s the only way. I also paint. Sometimes the way I see my purpose for life is me trying to gain an experience then learning to process and then produce from it.
John: Understood. We’re definitely coming into an age where everyone is into the multidisciplinary endeavour. That’s healthy, because if you only experience the world through one discipline then that can lead to one not having a well-rounded personality. You’ve discovered aspects of yourself through painting and dance. Perhaps they fit into each other? What do you say to that?
Mufutau: Exactly, I think, and it’s controversial to say – we’ve exhausted the limits of dance.
John: That is controversial. You’re saying we’ve reached the end?
Mufutau: When I say exhaust, it’s more on a personal level. The dance world makes you a production house and that makes you exhaust the creative outlook. Everything’s so blurry right now that I need to look outside of this.
John: I know you’re keen to depoliticise the show, but given the impact of the rioting and the conversations on migration, how do you hope your show will impact those who come to see it?
Mufutau: I hope… I’m very conscious of what I want when I go to see a show. I like to leave with an experience. I would like people to leave with something that they have to take time to process.
I’m not trying to tell people what all Black people are experiencing. I’m not trying to tell them what I am experiencing. They know, they are not naive. The world is not blind. The audience is exposed to information out there. Everything that I’m saying is information they’ve seen out there.
When I play with time, using the running, I don’t want people to intellectualise it, but go to that space where you, well… you sit with us over a period of time and reflect in a deeper place in your heart.
When I did the premiere a lot of people came up to me in the reception saying they wanted to talk but they did not know what to say, and that’s important. That’s exactly it. You left with something that you had to process. Otherwise you go home and you have a cup of tea and that’s that. What’s the point? I want you just to feel something you know? That’s important.
I’m a big David Lynch fan. Like, Inland Empire, I don’t know what it’s about, but I’m still thinking about it, nonstop. The bunnies! What does this mean? (Laughs). It could have endless meanings. That’s a successful director for me. After so many years I’m asking myself questions. Rather than oh…he gave me that image, I’m satisfied with that.
John: Inland Empire lingers, right?
Mufutau: Right. I want the audience to experience something, I wouldn’t want to tell them what. It would be presumptuous of me. It’s not that kind of show. We’re complex beings. Levels of experience, emotions and knowledge. I don’t consider the people who come to the show as an audience. They are witnesses. It’s a ritual. You’re allowed to partake in it, not directly, but indirectly. You’re having that dialogue by being there.
Be sure to catch Impasse on one of the following dates:
October 2024
Maison de la Danse, Lyon, France: 11th & 12th
Solstice Arts Centre, Navan, Ireland: 17th October 2024
Dance Cork Firkin Crane, Cork, Ireland: 25th & 26th October 2024
Afropolis Festival, Lagos, Nigeria 30th/31st
October 2024
Belfast International Arts Festival, Belfast, UK: 6th November 2024
Sadler’s Wells, London, UK: 14th & 15th November 2024
Article by John Clay
Photography by Pato Cassinoni
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