Dorchel Haqq and Hakeem Olayinka’s “blackinHD”
Dorchel Haqq and Hakeem Olayinka’s “blackinHD”
notes on loneliness, memory, Beyond the Black Box, and the intimacy of being witnessed
Being a Black person can be a very lonely experience. I know James Baldwin said that we experience rage “almost all of the time”. While that statement holds true, what about the loneliness of inhabiting a consciousness that perceives only unvarnished truth in one's reality? Loneliness lurks. Not as frequently anymore, but every so often he knocks on my door, I let him in, and we sit together. He tells me my rage is making my tub overflow and that I need to let go of that rage to make some room for grief. We sit and I wait a bit longer. At some point I get up and release the drain and witness my tears pooling around my feet.
This is a scene of Blackness that is not always talked about. The fear, the sadness, the despair, the agonizing wait for justice and the rights of humanity, the grief, the loss. We fight, march, demand, shout, chant, walk, dance, organize, sing, and fight. But when we return home, what happens then?
This past September, I entered Triskelion Arts for the Beyond The Black Box (BBB) on show with my friend, Dominique. We were immediately faced with reflections of ourselves: visual art by Black artists hung on the ceiling, drinks named after blaxploitation legends were poured, we ate soul food , tried on crystal jewelry and whipped shea butter. Curated by Chanel Stone, Cemiyon Barber, and Arielle Francois, BBB aims to create a space that pays homage to contemporary Black dancers in New York City while invoking the spirit of the 1960s and 70s social movements. The dress code asked us to, “come dressed in your best interpretation of the 1970 Pam Grier bad a** aesthetic!” I came to this particular show night to watch Dorchel Haqq, and her partner, the visual artist Hakeem Olayinka, perform their new work, “blackinHD”. She messaged me shortly after returning from a year long performance run in Shanghai asking if I could write about her piece. I said of course.
I decided on a drink called “Dolemite”- mezcal and something else- and sat down in the audience with Dominique to watch.
“blackinHD” started with an embrace. Dorchel and Hakeem, a couple even outside of this scene, hold each other. Smoke, a worn couch, empty chairs, articles of clothing laid intentionally on the floor and a TV with perpetual static fill the Triskelion Arts stage. We are given a scene of a room. Or remnants of something or someone being in this scene before. Articles of clothing rested on the stage floor. The soundscore oscillating between various genres of music. At one moment, we hear jazz, followed by RnB, and then a current pop song.
Hakeem wore a white tank top and tan pants. An archetype of a working man. Dorchel wore a conglomeration of satin slips. Dorchel leaned and shifted her weight to land into Hakeem’s arms. Then he guided her to the floor which initiated a cascade of movement from Dorchel. Her figure floated between fast twitches of her muscles that transitioned into slow slides across the floor.
She danced for fifteen minutes without much pause during which Hakeem moved from one seat to another. He turned on a light every time he sat. He might glance or watch for a moment but, he wasn’t really paying too much attention to Dorchel. In contrast, he is stable and she is not. She seemed to be going through something….
The piece ended with Dorchel in Hakeem’s arms for a final time.
Then I remembered loneliness.
(This is also a scene of Blackness)
This was one of Dorchel’s first performances in the United States after living in China for a year. When I went at the age of thirteen or fourteen, I remember the beauty, the embrace of elders, the food, the cultural differences, my privilege being American... I still remember strangers pulling at my hair, grabbing me for photos, the questions about my skin…
Dorchel and I kept in touch via email and Instagram DM exchanges. We were performing the same role in the same show but in different cities, only she was in Shanghai and I was in New York City. We spoke on the loneliness of our different journeys. She was probably the only Black person within a 10 mile radius while I was navigating the jarring individuality culture of an off-Broadway show.
So, after the BBB show, I asked Dorchel if “blackinHD” was confessional. “Maybe,” she said. She wanted to give space for whatever needed to come out at that moment. We chatted a bit about the satisfaction we get from performing improvisational dances when I shared that she improvised the entire 15 minutes worth of dancing. Then I came to understand that this piece could be interpreted however I wanted.
“blackinHD” allowed me to witness intimacy between two Black people. But anyone who has loved someone through their bout of loneliness knows what this scene is. You know the kind that’s only shared between two people who love each other? Granting each other space. A hand to a cheek. A cheekbone to a collar. A witness to their fears, which is separate from your own. Understanding that your role is to remain nearby, prepared to catch them when they tire, and to embrace them.
Always embrace them.