Edgewalking, jazz and shadow puppets: Negotiating artistic practice and transnational research

Just this week, I was invited to participate in a seminar on Pacific art and activism, in which I had the honour of standing alongside some truly magnificent Pacific Islander artists who are engaged in the academy, but who also produce creative works that question and confront the epistemological assumptions that underpin institutions like universities in colonial and post-colonial settings

By Dr Dan Bendrups

Just this week, I was invited to participate in a seminar on Pacific art and activism, in which I had the honour of standing alongside some truly magnificent Pacific Islander artists who are engaged in the academy, but who also produce creative works that question and confront the epistemological assumptions that underpin institutions like universities in colonial and post-colonial settings. While this stance may appear contradictory, it can also be understood in terms of what Samoan-New Zealander scholar Anne-Marie Tupuola (2004) describes as ‘edgewalking’ – the ability to operate across and between two cultural worlds or ‘ways of being’. Tupuola asserts that, for Pasifika diaspora youth, edgewalking is a talent to be nurtured. Significantly, some of the most evocative examples of edgewalking that Tupuola identifies in her 2004 paper are creative works.

This concept of edgewalking as a means of negotiating distinct cultural worlds likely resonates with artists working in the academy in general, who are tasked with negotiating and reconciling the sometimes disparate gap between institutional and personal/creative priorities. As a career academic with an earlier start in life as a musician, I recognise this process in my own practice

This concept of edgewalking as a means of negotiating distinct cultural worlds likely resonates with artists working in the academy in general, who are tasked with negotiating and reconciling the sometimes disparate gap between institutional and personal/creative priorities. As a career academic with an earlier start in life as a musician, I recognise this process in my own practice. Teaching the craft of music in a university setting is fairly straightforward, but the idea that my musical work can, under the right conditions, also constitute research, has required an occasional rethink about my role as a creative artist in the academy. To what extent are my artistic goals influenced by institutional priorities for research, and what creative opportunities might be available in a university setting that would otherwise not eventuate?  

My approach to these questions has been to pursue transnational and transcultural performance opportunities that have emerged in the slipstream of my broader university research activities. On the one hand, the ‘blue skies’ imperative of basic academic research – to make new contributions to knowledge – has enabled me to maintain certain niche creative interests, which may or may not have survived in a commercial environment, as specialised domains of knowledge production (see, for example, Garrido and Bendrups 2013). On the other hand, the imperative for Australian universities to pursue community engagement objectives has provided me with the impetus to consider how, as an artist, I might be able to effect positive social change in applied settings.

My most recent attempt at this, the 2017 shadow puppet film Rama and the Worm, reflects transnational and international concerns, and I foreground it here with the hope of stimulating some reflection about the ways in which institutional priorities can nurture creative practice. Rama and the Worm came about in response to an academic colleague’s musings about a health promotion project he had recently completed in rural Java, building latrines in remote communities. The project had been completed successfully, but work remained to be done in communicating with the communities involved about good hygiene practices. Mutually aware of the popularity of wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre) as a vehicle for such messaging in Indonesia, we proposed to develop a short wayang kulit film that would serve to carry the intended messages (see www.tinyurl.com/rama-and-the-worm).

Rama and the Worm came about in response to an academic colleague’s musings about a health promotion project he had recently completed in rural Java, building latrines in remote communities. The project had been completed successfully, but work remained to be done in communicating with the communities involved about good hygiene practices.

In developing Rama and the Worm, I was fortunate to count on the expertise of a long-term friend and collaborator, and wayang kulit expert, Joko Susilo, who co-wrote the play with me, and who was prepared to support a novel creative idea: replacing the usual gamelan accompaniment for the play with music created and performed by an experimental jazz-fusion ensemble – the main locus of my own creative practice in recent years (see, for example, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6lttus391I). We posited that this music would be sufficiently unusual to attract attention to the play, and that public curiosity would outweigh any concerns about our deviation from traditional musical practice.

The attraction of being able to alter the musical accompaniment in this way was of benefit to both the applied aims of the project and to my own creative impulses. It meant that I was able to engage in new work with long-term collaborators, as well as extending my own creative process through performance and production. In this sense, Rama and the Worm presents an example of how one can capitalise artistically on the access to transnational and transcultural research endeavours that the university environment provides, and thereby find opportunities to work artistically within a broader research context.


References:

Garrido, W and Bendrups, D (2013), Transcultural Latino: Negotiating music industry expectations of Latin American migrant musicians in Australasia, Musicology Australia 35(1): 1-15.
Tupuola, A (2004), ‘Pasifika edgewalkers: Complicating the achieved identity status in youth research’, Journal of Intercultural Studies 25(1): 87-100.


Dr Dan Bendrups is a trombonist, ethnomusicologist, recording artist, and producer based in Castlemaine, Victoria. His research considers the role of music in sustaining expressions of cultural heritage and identity in a range of trans-Pacific contexts, reflected in academic papers, performances, exhibitions, and archival projects. Prior to his current role in research education and development at La Trobe University, he was Deputy Director (Research) at Queensland Conservatorium Griffith University, Brisbane, where he was an active contributor to institutional developments in artistic research. His contributions to artistic research include the book Dunedin Sounds: Place and Performance (co-edited with Graeme Downes) – the first book to specifically examine artistic research in music in the New Zealand context.

More from this issue

More from this issue

Until 2016, the Bachelor of Natural History Illustration offered at the University of Newcastle (UON) was the epitome of a ‘boutique’ degree. The only program of its kind offered in Australia − and one of only a few offered internationally - it is unique in that it brings together specialised scientific content and an understanding of the environment with creative and design skills.

The 2006 World Congress on Arts Education, held in Lisbon, Portugal resulted in an important document for arts education- the UNESCO Roadmap for Arts Education. Reflecting UNESCO’s themes of access and equity, its main aims were to: uphold the human right to education and cultural participation; develop individual capabilities; improve the quality of education and promote the expression of cultural diversity.

In late June 2017, 10 undergraduate students from the Tasmanian College of the Arts (TCotA), University of Tasmania, along with myself and colleague Lucy Bleach will undertake a 3–week international field trip covering 4 cities to experience a once-in-ten-year alignment of Documenta 14 and the Münster Skulptur Projekte.

“Have a great day: successful, whatever that means.” Christoph Dahlhausen gave me this order a few minutes ago—a sentence punctuated with the door swinging shut behind him as he left for a meeting. Christoph is an artist in residence, but not an artist in residence at RMIT - he is an artist in my residence—a houseguest, a friend, a colleague and a mentor.

As filmmakers and film teachers we share neither an aesthetic nor an ethic. Even more tragically we make films and teach others to make them without relating the one to the other. How the practice became separated from the purpose or the aesthetic from the ethic, predates the invention of the medium. Our schools could, and perhaps should, be the place where every next generation is reminded of that essential relationship, but our curriculum not only separates form from content, it hardly ever confronts the question of how the one affects the other

The global classroom project launched in 2013 and so far over 450 students in London, Hong Kong, Singapore and Vietnam have supported each other’s learning by sharing resources and providing local research as well as peer reviewing each other’s work facilitated through a private Facebook group.

Writing in The Huffington Post,  John M Eger, Director of the Creative Economy Initiative at San Diego State University said:

“art serves so superbly as a universal language — as a means toward understanding the history, culture, and values of other peoples. As human beings build virtual bridges into unknown cultural territory — and there learn, share dreams, and creatively work together—mankind will know itself as citizens of a rich and truly global society.” (1)

Creative art is global. It ignores national borders to share ideas, concerns and possibilities with societies, and other artists, irrespective of geographic location.