'Gimp' Explores Disability

Dance is an art of the human body. It exposes emotions through physical manifestations, and choreography uses the rich lexicon of body language. It seems, then, that any choreographer looking to stretch the limits of corporeal expression would require performers with incredible versatility and training. But choreographers’ avid searches for such rare ability inevitably overlook one fascinating factor in human movement: disability.

Heidi F. Latsky acknowledged this oversight. Previously a dancer for Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance and now a member of the Hofstra University faculty, she recently choreographed a performance featuring eight dancers, four of whom live with disabilities. Her creation—which is coming to Boston’s Institute of Contemporary Art tonight and tomorrow—is called the GIMP project, and its name perfectly exemplifies her bold and unabashed intention to honor the different ways in which the disabled move. In fact, the project’s website points out certain different meanings for the word “gimp,” including “a ribbon like, braided fabric… fighting spirit; vigor…[and] to turn, vacillate, tremble ecstatically.” Her motive is not political, but by highlighting the new beauty of disabled body types she transforms her audience’s perception of disabilities entirely.

“It started off as just really exploring with different body types and how they moved together, and how they moved in really unique ways, and each person’s unique virtuosity,” Latsky says.

More than anything else, she and her ensemble seek to celebrate beauty in dancers that differ from the norm. The show’s producer, Jeremy Alliger, commented that this “unique virtuosity” of disability let the choreographer explore original forms of expression.

“Imagine a master Renaissance painter, for instance, who discovers a new color on his palette that never before existed,” Alliger says. “And imagine the excitement, and the new possibilities that open up to him.” GIMP explores the magnificence of these unconventional movements.

Latsky uses the unappreciated aesthetics of these moves to explore a range of moods.

“There is humor in it,” she says. “Some of the sections are kind of more confrontational. A lot of them are very internal.” The music accompanying the pieces ranges appropriately from popular music to opera arias. Some of the musical compositions are original, and one part of the show is accompanied by nothing but the breath of jazz singer, saxophonist, and flautist Stan Strickland. Even the stage does not constrict the choreographer’s vision; she sets an aerial number—or, as she puts it, a “movement portrait”—in the open air.

Certain unifying factors, however, hold the entire show together. “There’s a very strong sense of sensuality and some sexuality throughout,” Latsky says.

Within this artistic exploration, GIMP does play with its audience’s social attitudes towards disability. The exposure of disabled physicality on stage intentionally goes against the grain for audience members.

“Children are always seen being told by parents not to stare,” Alliger says. But placing the disabled on stage in a celebratory way invites the audience to form a more nuanced understanding of disabled movement. “They’re given the permission to stare,” Alliger says of the audience. And to complete the rapport, the performers stare right back; at one point they break from dancing in order to address the audience directly with quotations from previous audiences’ reactions, including “We’ve been watching you. We think you’re beautiful.” Thus GIMP blurs the line between the watched and the watchers, and the audience manages to experience new perceptions of new physicalities.

For one dancer in the ensemble, this change in perception is one of the most important elements of GIMP. Lawrence Carter-Long lives with cerebral palsy, a neuromuscular disorder that affects his control of his legs. He also works as the Director of Advocacy for the Disabilities Network of NYC.

“Within the culture we’re in, specifically, disability is something to be cured; it’s something to be frightened of,” he says. Similarly, the disabled are relegated to a mental world and rarely given the opportunity to express themselves corporeally. “People learn to work with you from the neck up,” he explains. But the dance project complicates personal attitudes towards disability in vital ways; instead of praising the efforts of GIMP’s cast in hackneyed ways, calling them inspirational or courageous, the audience is meant to recognize that different movements deserve celebration for their beauty.