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Black Bodies in White Spaces: Considering the Black Female Ballet Dancer in South Africa
Devon Bailey
Abstract
Considering apartheid in South Africa and the resistance that black (dancing) bodies were met with in white (ballet) spaces, there are clear, prevailing effects of the male gaze on how the bodies of black, female dancers are perceived in the arts. In this paper, I argue that the neglected and overlooked black female/oppositional gaze presents a strong challenge to the white male gaze in relation to how black, female, ballet dancing bodies are perceived, using the example of black, South African, female choreographer Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake.” I take Paul C. Taylor’s sarkaesthetic approach to show how Masilo challenges the white male gaze as it pertains to the kinds of dancers expected on stage and how Masilo breaks stereotypes of conventional physical, aesthetic expectations. I conclude that through the female/oppositional gaze, the black, female ballet dancer in South Africa is empowered with a measure of reclaiming her sense of agency over her own body.
Key Words
ballet; black bodies; female/oppositional gaze; Paul C. Taylor; sarkaesthetics; the white male gaze
1. Introduction
In his Black is Beautiful: A Philosophy of Black Aesthetics (2016), Paul C. Taylor problematizes the white gaze as it pertains to how black bodies are represented in the arts and media, in the chapter, “How to Love Black Bodies while Hating Black People.”[1] In his analysis, he does not attribute much attention to the representation of black, dancing bodies. In this paper, I use Paul C. Taylor’s concept of the sarkaesthetic—the view of the body as flesh from the outside—to develop Taylor’s problematization of the white male gaze in regards to how black, female, dancing bodies are historically (under) represented in the context of ballet dance. I claim that the white male gaze on black, female, dancing bodies is linked to how black bodies have been historically perceived and marginalized through apartheid laws and regulations, which ultimately affected the arts in South Africa, specifically dance. I argue that despite the effects of the dominant, white male gaze on black, female, dancing bodies in the South African arts, the significance and perspective of the black female/oppositional gaze, particularly modified by black, South African femaleness, carries more weight than is credited. I show how this dominant, white, male perspective is challenged by Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake.”
I argue in this paper that despite several theorists, including Laura Malvey,[2] Frantz Fanon,[3] and Paul C. Taylor, focusing on the problems and implications of the white male gaze—that is, the portrayal of female bodies as passive and secondary to dominant male figures—they often neglect the significance and perspective of the female/oppositional gaze on black, female (dancing) bodies. I demonstrate how Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” challenges the dominant white male gaze on black, female ballet dancing bodies on stage in a South African context. I add that although the white male gaze remains the dominant vantage point regarding the way black, female, dancing bodies are perceived, the black, female gaze, including racial and locational aspects, particularly that of South African dancer and choreographer Dada Masilo, poses a serious challenge to the status quo.
The example of Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” has raised numerous concerns and objections that I address later in the paper. Although there have been numerous questions regarding the objective of the piece, to change the mentality on homophobia in South Africa, emerging is my interpretation and application of this dance example and its ways of challenging the aesthetic standard imposed by the white male gaze. Since this paper’s focal point primarily is the racial and gendered identity of the female ballet dancer in South Africa, my focus turns away from Dada Masilo’s objective to convey a message around sexual identity. Instead, I focus on the aspects of the dancer’s identity that have been historically impacted and that are not of the dancer’s own choosing, such as the dancer’s race, sex, and geographical location, and minimally on the economic status into which the dancer was born. As such, my aim is to primarily use the racial and gendered aspects of the dancer to challenge the white male gaze by means of acknowledging the significance of the female/oppositional gaze. In addition, because my example is specific to a South African context, I do not respond to the question around other ballet dance works in the USA (or elsewhere) in terms of their challenge to the white male gaze. This is specifically because the effects of South Africa’s rich, discriminatory history, namely apartheid, on black, female ballet dancers holds a specific geographical significance that cannot be filtered to accommodate dance examples in different contexts. Furthermore, my perspective on the black, female ballet dancer in South Africa is an example that has not yet been employed or explored in the existing literature on ballet dance or on the problematization of the white male gaze.
I begin the paper by defining the parameters within which I use the problematized term ‘white male gaze.’ I then provide a brief history of apartheid and what its laws entailed, and also the effects of cultural imperialism on people of color within a South African context. I explain the ways in which the arts, particularly dance in South Africa, were affected by apartheid laws and regulations, and the negative effects it yielded for black ballet dancers within the arts. I continue by showing the nuanced ways in which colonial-inspired rule filtered through the arts by imposing Eurocentric historical and societal standards of aesthetic beauty onto all female ballet dancers, including being white and having a slim and lean physical build. I show how Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” challenges the technical form of ballet dance and the aesthetic perceptions of the dancers expected on stage. In so doing, Dada Masilo successfully challenges the white male gaze by acknowledging and implementing the female/oppositional gaze as a response or means of resistance to the status quo. I hereby demonstrate how some of the problems around the white male gaze can be addressed by implementing and acknowledging the significance of the female/oppositional gaze embedded in a black, South African, dancing body. I continue by presenting possible objections to my argument and to the use of my dance example, and I respond to them, emphasizing my position.
2. A brief history of apartheid South Africa
According to Maxwell Xolani Rani, apartheid, inspired by South Africa’s colonization by the Netherlands and Great Britain, can be described as the “social and political policy of racial segregation and discrimination enforced by the white minority government in South Africa from 1948 until 1994.”[4] The term is derived from the Afrikaans language and denotes “apartness,”[5] and ordered people by the color of their skin.[6] All residents were placed in one of four racial categories: black (African), white, colored (mixed-race), and Asian (which also included Indian people). The rights and opportunities available to South Africans were strictly dictated and determined by these categories, which caused prolonged social and economic inequality. Apartheid was not only a system of racial discrimination, but also one that separated whites from non-whites in various spheres, such as government, the labor market, and residency. Essentially, the apartheid system had begun dominating every major sphere of the entire country, including politics, economics, and society, including the arts.[7]
What is evidently demonstrated through the reign of the apartheid government in South Africa is the implementation of Iris Young’s “Five Faces of Oppression,” namely that of cultural imperialism.[8] According to Young, cultural imperialism entails the universalization of a dominant group’s experience and culture, and its establishment as the norm.[9] Encounters with other groups challenge the dominant group’s claim to universality and is dealt with by bringing other groups under the measure of its dominant norms, thereby demarcating these groups as “other.”[10] It is often the case that other groups and minority individuals suffered a paradoxical oppression by the dominant groups, in the sense that they were simultaneously marked by racial and other stereotypes and rendered invisible.[11] On the one hand, stereotypes confine them to the nature of their bodies in the sense that their bodies are always already transcribed with race and gender,[12] and because people are always defined according to their bodies, as flesh from the outside.[13] On the other hand, the cultures and experiences of oppressed groups were degraded and devalued to the point that they were rendered nonexistent, in comparison to the values, cultures, and experiences of the dominant groups. As such, people belonging to other groups were consequently rendered invisible too. According to Leonard Harris, black people have been so historically degraded and devalued that it is as if they were never born in the first place.[14] This is the extent to which people of color, especially black people, are rendered invisible, largely because of the perpetual injustices enforced by the oppressive nature of cultural imperialism.
Essentially, the injustice of cultural imperialism is that the oppressed group’s own experience and interpretation of social life finds little expression that touches the dominant culture, while that same dominant culture imposes onto the oppressed group its experience and interpretation of social life.[15] With cultural imperialism being the driving force of the white-led, colonialist-inspired, apartheid government, it was inevitable that the norms and values of the dominant group would be enforced in such a way that it excluded everyone who did not fit the script in terms of their racial and cultural backgrounds. Subsequently, black people in apartheid South Africa were denied access to many spaces and opportunities that were reserved for white people. Furthermore, because ballet is a white-elitist, Eurocentric art form and dance style, the ways in which black dancers were treated is exactly in line with the injustices of cultural imperialism, in the sense that black dancers were not easily accepted and welcomed into ballet dance studios and onto ballet stages by virtue of being black. Ballet dance is yet another space where black bodies could not share in what was initially intended for the white dominant groups, especially within a South African context.
Ballet dance could be said to exist within the framework of white, hegemonic preference in the sense that it is a Eurocentric theater dance style initially reserved specifically for white dancers.[16] According to Sharon Friedman, the arts in South Africa have emerged from and been shaped by a history of colonialism and apartheid. Both regimes “devalued indigenous African culture reducing it at best to ethnic curiosity.”[17] Although free from colonial rule, the apartheid government chose to value and fund ballet as a high art form above all other forms of dance. Friedman explains how the demography of dance companies was governed by apartheid policies and that special permits were required for dancers of color[18] to attend training at the only tertiary ballet school at the University of Cape Town. The understanding was that there should be no mixed-race casts on stage, yet the ballet company in Cape Town and in Durban employed dancers of color throughout the apartheid era.[19] For example, The National Arts Festival in Grahamstown, from the onset in 1974, presented works that were often politically contentious and “multiracial,” which illustrates the extent to which certain dance companies challenged the status quo.[20] Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” is another such example.
Furthermore, even though there were attempts made by classical ballet companies to incorporate South African culture into choreography using stories and myths, the material was presented in a form that was based on European or North American aesthetic criteria, which often exhibited “a profound disregard for, or appropriation of, the cultural capital (language and lifestyle) of the oppressed.”[21] Not only was the European ideal of bodily beauty imposed onto the African woman, but the performing arts in a colonized South African context also gravitated toward portraying European culture through ballet dance. In addition, considerable amounts of funding were made available to the Arts Councils’ companies and projects, and the dance budget was reserved and designated almost exclusively for classical ballet. As an indication of the “culture” valued by the apartheid government, the Arts Councils made no provision for the development and practice of so-called “indigenous” South African art forms, such as Contemporary African Dance, for example.[22] This is a clear illustration of how social forces of power determine the advancement of the dancer in question both socially and within the context of performing arts spaces. This speaks to the ways in which social institutions are organized around the identity of its participants, and also the ways in which value judgments are attributed based on culture.
What is imperative about this discussion is its analysis of the way the black, female dancing body is represented. It is my view that the sarkaesthetic approach, a term coined by Paul C. Taylor that I will describe more fully below, highlights the negative connotations associated with the identity of the black, female dancer because of its domineering external representations. These representations are exposed in the ways in which black bodies are received in white spaces. When we evaluate the treatment received by taking up space not initially intended for black bodies, we see the rejection of the black presence through the rejection, violence, and ill-treatment projected by the white gaze.
Sarkaesthetic integrationism is what happens when we admit black bodies into the spaces of estimation and evaluation that were once closed to them without doing much to change the broader terrain on which those spaces are found.[23]
The challenge with the above is that the forceful integration of black bodies into white spaces calls for the violence of the white gaze, with limited effort put into altering/addressing pre-existing conceptions of blackness. The external perception and representation of the black, female body could prove to be problematic in various ways. For instance, it is evident that the taking up of white space was not a privilege reserved for black bodies, considering apartheid and its enforcement of the restricted movement of black people during the apartheid era. This problematic taking up of white space by black bodies was clearly articulated in the apartheid Segregation Act in South Africa, where non-white bodies were forbidden to enter and share the space seemingly belonging to white people through signage indicating “Slegs blankes” in various public spaces, such as parks, public restrooms, cinemas, and the like.[24] This means that to undo these kinds of dispensations, a massive shift in the narrative is required around white being right and black being associated with darkness, ignorance, and danger.[25] The implications thereof have lingering effects, in the sense that black people taking up space in various spheres of life is often uncomfortable for the white gaze and for which the white gaze becomes a violent process.
Frantz Fanon, in his book Black Skin, White Masks, places emphasis on the invisibility of black people, particularly to the white gaze in an anti-black world. [26] He points out how black people began to see themselves through the eyes of others, thereby losing sight of themselves and thus becoming invisible to themselves as well. Chitando et al explains Walter Rodney’s observation, that “The brainwashing of the colonial enterprise was so effective that they managed to convince black people of their inferiority.”[27] This inferiority is seen played out in various situations where black dancers had to contend even harder for a spot in the dance world as ballet dancers.[28] Fanon explains how black people struggle against losing the capacity to envision and construct themselves as embodied points of contact between self and world.[29] This is indicative of the crippling effect of black invisibility, as also is articulated in Leonard Harris’ article on “Necro-Being.”[30]
Paul C. Taylor[31] explains how Toni Morrison, in her book, The Bluest Eye, epitomizes the lived experience of a young, black girl named Pecola Breedlove, who is, because of black invisibility, invited to esteem herself by appealing to societal standards of beauty.[32] She fails to recognize herself beyond the highly admired perfection of the white body. This is particularly problematic in the sense that the young girl surrenders all power to construct herself based on personal ideals of beauty to contemporary sociocultural expectations. Consequently, the black female envisions herself attaining a level of beauty that is exuded by the white woman and constructs herself accordingly. This is primarily because the beauty of white women is advertised as the epitome of beauty on dominant media platforms and simultaneously in the sphere of ballet dance as a predominantly Eurocentric dance style. What is likewise visible here is the extent to which black dancers are expected to alter their bodies to fit the ideal aesthetic of a ballet dancer at the expense of her physical authenticity.[33]
Furthermore, the view that the dancer must assume a particular identity and embody certain traits and attributes for her aesthetic to “fit” the dance style is illustrated by theorists such as Angela Pickard[34] and Pamela Ann Caltabiano,[35] to name two. Caltabiano explains how flamenco dancers can be identified as predominantly female with a flare of confidence.[36] Pickard demonstrates how young ballet dancers are expected to willingly accept physical and emotional suffering in their quest to perform ballet as an art, with their bodies as aesthetic projects.[37] This clearly indicates the level of external expectation to which dancers are constantly held ransom, to fit the ideal aesthetic of a dancer. The dancer is a performing artist whose identity is constantly defined within the boundaries of set prerequisites of a dance style. Moreover, she is exposed to the inevitably critical perception of funders, choreographers, fellow dancers, and audience members. The idea of her worth being determined by how much funders and audience members are willing to pay could possibly affect her self-esteem, and thus her self-confidence. Being a public figure implies that the dancer has standards and expectations to meet to appropriate the ideal aesthetic and thus succeed as a dancer. The black, female ballet dancer would thus be held to a physical aesthetic standard set by the slender, white, female ballet dancer, since this is understandably the kind of body for which ballet dance was initially intended (after slender white men).
3. Dada Masilo challenges the status quo
In Dada Masilo’s “Swan Lake,” we see a deviation from the norm and a direct challenge to the white male gaze on multiple fronts. First, we see a representation of black, female, ballet dancers who do not necessarily conform to the conventional bodily aesthetic expected of them. The bodily aesthetic standards of ballet include more than thinness, but also the arch of the foot, long legs and a short torso, lack of bottom and breasts, and nonexistent hips. While this aesthetic standard is difficult to conform to for many European women, it is arguably more so the case for women of other races. Second, what these dancers achieve though this interpretation of “Swan Lake” is not only a deviation from the norm pertinent to the usual and often ideal body aesthetic, but a deviation from traditional choreography grounded in classical ballet through her incorporation of African dance. This contradiction is intentional, in that Masilo portrays a different interpretation of the original story, in addition to a varied interpretation of what ballet dancers ought to look like. Her use of thicker female bodies to perform her take on “Swan Lake” already defies the stereotype of ballet dancers being white and slender. What this does is force the audience to think differently about their expectations of the performance, which causes them to often erupt in uncomfortable laughter. What is seen on stage is contradictory to the expectation in both the bodily aesthetic of the dancers and in her African spin on the choreography. What is seen in Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” is a caricature to prove a point—that ballet dance is no longer a space reserved for thin, white men and women, but for black women with fuller figures, and black men, too. She also rejects the use of pointe shoes in her choreography and the quiet on-stage performance that is common to ballet dance performances. Instead, there are moments where the dancers themselves shout during the performance to demonstrate the loud-and-proud nature of black, South African people.
Richard Shusterman distinguishes between the way the individual experiences one’s own body and the way one stylizes one’s body to achieve aesthetically pleasing representation.[38] It becomes clear that the dancers performing Masilo’s “Swan Lake” experience their bodies as equally functional to those of lean, white girls in their performance, despite their deviation from the norm. Under normal circumstances, ballet dancers undergo extreme physical strain to achieve and maintain the physical aesthetic traditionally expected of ballet dancers, as previously mentioned. Shusterman claims that “[t]he artistic yearning to glorify the body’s beauty as desired object often results, moreover, in stylistic exaggerations that propagate deceptive images of bodily ease and grace.”[39] In other words, dancers submit their bodies to the craftmanship of an ideal aesthetic as is perceived by others for the sake of acceptance and appreciation, and for the sake of a career as a dancer.
On the one hand, Dada Masilo follows the rules of the theater setting, as is seen in her choreography and selection of dancers, in that she makes her dancers wear tutus and choreographs a routine that conforms (mostly) to traditional ballet dance technique. However, she bravely steps outside the box to choreograph a piece that represents a black, South African interpretation of the traditional ballet, “Swan Lake.” She purposefully defies expectation as it pertains to the form of the dance, by having the dancers bend their elbows and dance flat-footed at certain moments in the dance. This gives the audience a performance to be remembered, either for their appreciation or dislike of the fuller-figured, black, female bodies performing a variation of “Swan Lake” on stage. Masilo’s play on fuller-figured dancers performing a variation of the story with African-infused choreography confuses the “natural” expectations of the audience and has subsequently received considerable attention and open celebration, in that the show has been taken to many different stages around the world. Furthermore, through Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake,” she explains that her intention is to enlighten the South African public of the value of ballet dance and its accessibility to all people. However, with ballet dance lessons remaining as expensive as they are, and with black dancers still being undervalued and overlooked in many ballet dance spaces, the message is not yet crystal clear. On the other hand, there have been various efforts put into play to ease these challenges, in that a greater number of black ballet dancers are emerging both in South Africa and internationally, and the Russian School of Ballet has begun giving classes in South African rural areas to raise awareness among underprivileged children who may never be able to afford them.
Additionally, the way Masilo uses a traditional ballet platform to challenge stereotypes is ground-breaking, as she dares to practice agency using black bodies to take up “white spaces.” This piece breaks the white, European parameters within which ballet dance is usually considered. The race, gender, and body aesthetic of the dancers defies the norm, and their ownership of these facets of their identity displays the pride with which they perform the dance as thick, black ballet dancers. For example, Masilo varies in her choreography in the sense that she does not exclusively use Petipa classical choreography. There are numerous points in the piece where the dancers dance flat-footed instead of on their toes or on pointe, which is a direct deviation from the norm of ballet dance technique. In addition, the movement quality is more grounded, energetic, and aggressive in Masilo’s interpretation, whereas the movement is a lot more smooth, classical, and graceful in the classical “Swan Lake.” Masilo’s interpretation encapsulates the black, female aesthetic in the sense that much traditional African dance contains choreography that is grounded and performed with high energy. This enables the black female to take pride in her identity as a dancer, in that she has the power to manipulate her body toward the realization of artistic ends;[40] a power that not many human beings have the privilege of possessing. This is perhaps the most empowering attribute of the black, female dancer, despite the negative connotations she is associated with being black and female in post-apartheid South Africa. Being a dancer empowers her to challenge preconceived notions of her value and transcend her lived reality in ways that are inaccessible to the average non-dancing human being.
Etalia Thomas, in her work, “The Dance of Cultural Identity: Exploring Race and Gender with Adolescent Girls,” explains how dance, employed as narrative identity theory, can expose the identity formed by these adolescent girls in relation to their lived experiences within their social context.[41] Many of these adolescent students had reported that they experience racism and sexism in their everyday lives, which is easily the case for many of the black, female dancers featured in Dada Masilo’s “Swan Lake.” Thomas maintains that dance is then a means of addressing these issues because it allows the choreography to string together fragmented emotions that can be expressed not only verbally, but physically too. [42]
[D]ance is the conduit for capturing and embodying lived experience, thereby allowing researchers and participants alike to gain a unique perspective on both dominant and non- dominant cultural identities from an artistic and somatic perspective.[43]
This is an illustration of the power of dance as an effective tool in finding and forming one’s identity within the sphere of sociocultural contexts. The dancers in Masilo’s piece are thus able to use classical ballet infused with African dance to form and affirm their identities as a representation of their lived realities. The black, female, and South African aspects of their identity are embraced and celebrated through the performance of this piece. In addition, whereas classical ballet traditionally construed would have expected these dancers to conform to specific body aesthetics and remain strictly within the boundaries of ballet choreography, this piece enables the dancers to embrace their bodies and simultaneously explore a dance style that they find closer to home. It is in embracing the various aspects of her identity as a dancer that she can practice and enforce a measure of agency that cannot be taken away from her. It is in defying the norms and conventional expectations around her physical aesthetic that she can assume her position as a professional in ballet dance spaces that were not initially intended for her. It is in this way that the black female/oppositional gaze presents a direct challenge to the white male gaze and all that it stands to bring into passive, sexual objectification. In this case, the black, South African, female ballet dancer is one who dares to practice agency in the context of the white male gaze and within the parameters of spaces defined by colonialism and African patriarchy.
4. Objections and responses
There are several objections to my position that I must consider. First, one could object that in deviating from the norm in terms of the dancers she chooses to employ, Dada Masilo could be reinforcing the exact stereotypes that she is attempting to address. Second, it could be said that Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” is an old example that does not accurately reflect the reality of ballet dance in South Africa today. Third, one could argue that the physical suffering that ballet dancers must endure to achieve a bodily aesthetic that is able to efficiently perform the intricate techniques of ballet dance is not exclusive to black, female dancers. Lastly, one could question whether Masilo doing her “own thing” in her “interpretation” of “Swan Lake”—a classical ballet dance work—can get by and be classified as ballet.
In response to the first objection, it is my view that to bring a measure of resistance to preconceived norms regarding the ideal ballet body, the problem itself must be stated so that it is addressed. One cannot claim to bring a different perspective on a matter that one is too ashamed or afraid to admit. In order to rectify the injustices suffered by black, female ballet dancers in South Africa, one must acknowledge the problem of the white male gaze and its effects on the opportunities available and unavailable to these dancers. Instead of perceiving Dada Masilo’s use of fuller-figured, black, female dancers in her piece as perpetuating a stereotype, it can be perceived rather as the breaking of a stereotype. Masilo is not reinforcing a stereotype as much as she is breaking it by virtue of defying the norms associated with the ideal ballet bodily aesthetic.
Secondly, it is true that Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” is not current. There are more recent and relevant black ballet dancers who are excelling in the arts and dance field/industry, such as Kitty Phetla and Andile Ndlovu. However, I make use of Masilo’s work to demonstrate the way in which this dance piece challenges the problem of the white male gaze as it pertains to the way black, female bodies are received and perceived in ballet dance spaces. Furthermore, my omission of Masilo’s original intention for the work to shed light on homosexuality indicates that my use of this dance example to highlight the issue of the white male gaze as it pertains to black female bodies is emerging. This dance example is relevant in that I employ its intricacies to develop a position that showcases the significance of the black female/oppositional gaze as a response or challenge to the white male gaze.
The third objection that is worth addressing here is that the alteration of one’s body to fit the ideal aesthetic required to efficiently practice and perform the techniques of the ballet dance style to perfection is not exclusive to black women. It is true that all professional ballet dancers everywhere can attest to the suffering their bodies have had to endure in learning and executing the ballet dance style according to the standards set by the unique and precise dance techniques. As such, I agree that the pursuit of attaining and achieving a particular physical aesthetic is not a problem exclusive to black, female ballet dancers. However, my response to this issue is twofold. First, black dancers have had to contend much harder than dancers of Caucasian descent to enter dance schools and studios and to be selected for dance works to begin with. For example, it is difficult to make it into ballet dance studios because of the costly nature of ballet dance classes and the prejudice against selecting black dancers for performance. Second, there are numerous physical characteristics that white culture (as seen in ballet) deems “non-balletic,” such as prominent buttocks that should be flat, and flat feet that are expected to be highly arched and sustaining minimal musculature. In addition, conforming to these “balletic” body shapes usually requires early childhood training for turnout and arching in the feet, for example. Many people with fewer economic resources study ballet later, when it is often more difficult to start changing body shape. As such, to claim that the physical suffering that accompanies being a ballet dancer is a challenge that is highlighted from a place of privilege. That said, the argument that physical suffering is universal to all ballet dancers is a privilege-laden statement that must be carefully considered. The challenge pertaining to physical suffering therefore becomes much more difficult for dancers who have had a tough experience being accepted into the ballet school and have not had the economic means to study ballet from their childhood in the first place.
Finally, I address the question of whether the dance work could still be classified as ballet because of Masilo’s deviation from the traditions of ballet in terms of technique and dancers used. In response, I claim that Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake” is indicative of the respect and reverence with which the piece was choreographed and that which she has for ballet dance and for this work in particular. This is revealed when in an interview Masilo explains that she saw a performance of “Swan Lake” when she was twelve years old and was inspired to practice and perform ballet dance. She later became a choreographer and set out to recreate the dance work that inspired her to tell a different story. In her dance work, one can detect the level of honor and respect that Masilo maintains for the art form that is ballet dance. Her adherence to the techniques and attire that is fundamental to ballet indicates her dedication to respecting the art form while narrating a specific story through the performance of her work. Her spin on the choreography and use of different dancers does not subtract from the substance of the ballet dance technique, which is admirable. Masilo adds a South African twist to the story to make it more relatable with her own (South African) people. This is because her story is directed at South African people to convey a message about the value and accessibility of ballet (besides her objective to change the perspective on homosexuality). Consequently, it is my view that, indeed, this dance example can be classified as ballet, because even amid her variation in choreography, Masilo maintains the integrity of the art form that is ballet dance. She deviates from the norms around physical aesthetic and traditional technique playfully, which demonstrates a respect for yet a simultaneous resistance towards the foundations of the art form. Often negatively connoted, the stereotypes that Masilo attempts to address can be attributed to the history of ballet dance. By acknowledging that history and making means to break the stereotypes that emerged from it, Dada Masilo successfully utilizes the female/oppositional gaze in a black, South African way to challenge the white male gaze that perpetually defines the parameters within which ballet dance can be performed.
5. Conclusion
In this paper, I developed Taylor’s[44] sarkaesthetic perspective on the black, female, dancing body. I demonstrated the extent to which the female/oppositional gaze can be seen as significant in challenging the dominant white male gaze as it pertains to black, female, ballet dancing bodies within a South African context. I illustrated how it is that black people have been historically oppressed by apartheid laws and regulations and explicated how oppressive laws filtered into the arts spaces, specifically dance. I illustrated this point by referring specifically to Iris Young’s “Five Faces of Oppression,” namely the concept of cultural imperialism to explain the extent of the injustices faced by black people during the apartheid era in South Africa. Using the example of Dada Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake,” I demonstrated how the hegemonic, white male gaze can be challenged by means of defying the audience’s expectations of traditional ballet technique in the choreography and by employing fuller-figured black female ballet dancers to perform the piece. I considered a few possible objections to my position and responded to each of them in detail, reiterating my argument that the black female/oppositional gaze poses a substantial challenge to traditionally held views regarding the physical aesthetic of ballet dancers perpetuated by the white male gaze. In conclusion, although the white male gaze remains the predominant vantage point from which black, female dancing bodies are perceived within the context of ballet dance, the black female/oppositional gaze challenges the status quo. Furthermore, through Masilo’s interpretation of “Swan Lake,” she demonstrates how the use of the black female/oppositional gaze provides a different perspective and narrates a story that is primarily directed at enlightening South African people. What this analysis shows is the extent to which the study of ballet can be used to interrogate gender norms in racial and geographic or political contexts. This is evident especially since Masilo’s objectives for her interpretation of the original dance work were geared towards altering the South African perspective around homosexuality. In addition, the elitist framework within which we view ballet dance is challenged by the oppositional gaze that defiantly looks to alter reality.
Dr. Devon Bailey
devonb@uj.ac.za
Devon Bailey is a lecturer in the Philosophy Department at the University of Johannesburg in South Africa. She has presented a number of talks and workshops at national and international conferences. Her research interests include philosophy of art and aesthetics (specifically dance), somaesthetics, phenomenology, African philosophy, the self and identity and identity politics.
The financial assistance of the National Institute for the Humanities and Social Sciences, in collaboration with the South African Humanities Deans Association, towards this research is hereby acknowledged. Opinions expressed and conclusions arrived at are those of the author and are not necessarily to be attributed to the NIHSS and SAHUDA.
Published on August 27, 2024.
Cite this article: Devon Bailey, “Black Bodies in White Spaces: Considering the Black Female Ballet Dancer in South Africa,” Contemporary Aesthetics Volume 22 (2024), accessed date.
Endnotes
[1] Paul C. Taylor, Black is Beautiful: A Philosophy of Black Aesthetics (Malden, MA: Wiley Blackwell, 2016).
[2] Laura Mulvey, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” Screen 16, No. 4 (1975), 6-18.
[3] Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks (London: Pluto Press, 1952).
[4] Xolani M. Rani, “No Simple Answers: A Holistic Approach to Issues Concerning Obesity and African Dance,” Accelerando: Belgrade Journal of Music and Dance 2, No. 10, (2017), 24-31.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Mavis B. Mhlauli, End Salani, Rosinah Mokotedi, “Understanding Apartheid in South Africa through the Racial Contract,” International Journal of Asian Social Science: Research Gate 5, No. 4, (2015), 203-219.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Iris M. Young, “Five Faces of Oppression,” in Geographic Thought: A Praxis Perspective, eds. Henderson, G. L & Waterstone, M. (New York: Routledge, 2009), 55-71.
[9] Ibid, 54.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Young, “Five Faces of Oppression.”
[12] Elizabeth Grosz, “Bodies and Knowledges: Feminism and the Crisis of Reason,” in Feminist Epistemologies, eds. Linda Alcoff and Elizabeth Potter (New York and London: Routledge, 1993).
[13] Taylor, Black is Beautiful: A Philosophy of Black Aesthetics.
[14] Leonard Harris, “Necro-Being: An Acturial Account of Racism,” Res Philosophica 95, No. 2, (2018), 273-302.
[15] Young, “Five Faces of Oppression.”
[16] Sharon Friedman, Post-Apartheid Dance: Many Bodies Many Voices Many Stories (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2012).
[17] Ibid, 1.
[18] It is important to note that by “black dancers” or “dancers of color,” I am here referring to all non-white dancers during and post-apartheid South Africa. In a South African context, non-white people include black, colored (mixed race), Indian and Asian people as well. By the “Black, female dancer,” I refer in this paper to black in the U.S. sense (encompassing all black and colored or mixed-race female dancers in the South African sense) and not in the South African sense where the “black” racial category is distinct from colored and Indian people, for example.
[19] Friedman, Post-Apartheid Dance.
[20] Ibid, 2.
[21] Ibid, 4.
[22] Ibid, 3.
[23] Taylor, Black is Beautiful: A Philosophy of Black Aesthetics, 123.
[24] Catherine Botha, “The dancing body, power and transmission of collective memory in apartheid South Africa,” in The Routledge Companion to Dance Studies, eds. Helen Thomas & Stacy Prickett (London: Routledge, 2019), 22-33.
[25] Taylor (2016), Yancy (2016), and Fanon (1952) point out this distinction.
[26] Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks.
[27] Ezra Chitando & Anna Chitando, “Black Female Identities in Harare,” Zambezia 31 (2009), 1-21.
[28] Friedman, Post-Apartheid Dance.
[29] Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks.
[30] Harris, “Necro-Being: An Acturial Account of Racism.”
[31] Taylor, Black is Beautiful: A Philosophy of Black Aesthetics.
[32] Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye (New York: Plume, 1970, 1994).
[33] Angela Pickard, “Schooling the dancer: the evolution of an identity as a ballet dancer,” Research in Dance Education 13, No. 1 (2012), 25-46.
[34] Ibid.
[35] Pamela A. Caltabiano, “Embodied Identities: Negotiating the Self through Flamenco Dance” (Ph. D. Thesis, Georgia: Georgia State University, 2009), https://doi.org/10.57709/1223566.
[36] Ibid.
[37] Pickard, “Schooling the dancer.”
[38] Richard Shusterman, Performing Live (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 2000).
[39] Richard Shusterman, Body Consciousness: A Theory of Mindfulness and Somaesthetics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), x.
[40] Eric Mullis, “Dance, Philosophy, and Somaesthetics,” Performance Philosophy 2, No. 1 (2016), 60-71.
[41] Etalia Thomas, “The Dance of Cultural Identity: Exploring Race and Gender with Adolescent Girls,” American Journal of Dance Therapy 37, No. 2, (Springer, 2015), 176-196.
[42] Ibid.
[43] Ibid, 4.
[44] Taylor, Black is Beautiful: A Philosophy of Black Aesthetics.