Intention Note

«A mythical creature, the dragon, whose form and significance has fluctuated over time, following the generational quirks and turns of human civilization, large and small; the dragons of the East, for example, have always been different from the dragons of the West, and there are regional distinctions—in looks and in personality—even among the dragons of the East. What remains consistent between all contexts is the beast’s bricolage origin, a cobbling-together of various animals to make up its major anatomical parts and special characteristics. And when we look farther, actually taking apart the iconic structures of meaning around this compound image, what we find is twofold: first, the deep fear of fate, that which is too powerful for us to control with our merely-human strength; and second, the anticipation of and aspiration toward a construction of truly unlimited potential.

In any cultural landscape rooted in Christianity, of course, such a being could only ever be a monster to be eliminated—but in most other areas of the world, the dragon has long functioned as a symbol of transcendent authority and wisdom, able to bestow upon humanity the power and courage necessary to overcome great worldwide upheaval, not to mention the flexibility and resilience to adjust and thrive amidst rapid change.

Given these terms, then, how are we to understand the dragon? The “we,” that is, of today, who find ourselves disillusioned with the promise of shared prosperity through globalization; the “we” who fear not knowing what lies ahead; the “we” who have lost those sparkling twentieth century visions of the future. If we were to imagine a true dragon of the 2020s, say, looking ahead to the 22nd century, what should it look like? What if we could free ourselves from the molds of taxidermied tradition, those shackles of approval and safety that take the form of endless reinterpretation, and create an entirely new monster of infinite transformation, belching flames into the future — what might that be like?

During its early stages, we sometimes called this project, which was ultimately titled, simply, “Dragon”—the “Millenium Baby Project,” and in truth I have worked hard, researching many different regions of Asia to find and better understand dancers born after the year 2000 and come of age in a world already ruled by technology; dancers, in other words, that belong to Generation Z. 

And while the cultural homogenization that results from our shared reality of smart phones and globalization is undeniable, the fact still remains that the different regional traditions of dance across Asia continue to be passed down each in their own way, and that even seemingly similar contemporary vernacular dance cultures are actually each unfolding in singular fashion. I was determined to create, using the backdrop of these dancers’ vitality and irreproducibility, a new time-space of the dragon, guiding us into a future we have never before seen. Five young dancers flown in from five different countries across Asia, gathering up the inherited legacies of their bodies and, through the process of projection onto each screen-body, actually exploring new strata and topographies to build a time and space of the dragon. At the point where the world itself overflows, where place becomes moment and moment becomes place—here, all things become possible.»