Race and relations
Robert Moses' Kin premieres The President's Daughter.
By Rita Felciano


Photo of Ramon Ramos and Raissa Simpson by RJ Muna
AT 10, Robert Moses' Kin Dance Company is no longer the new kid on the block. An integral part of Bay Area dance these days – with a small but growing national audience – the company continues to produce surprising, wildly divergent work, a tradition likely to continue with The President's Daughter, which receives its world premiere during an upcoming run at the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco. The piece is Moses's latest foray into the murky waters where race, cultural expectations, and sheer human tenacity rub against one another.

Perhaps most remarkable about Moses's work is his ability to come up with fresh formal solutions for every new piece. Other choreographers develop a kind of signature look; with Moses, other than dancing that's fabulously physical and intense, you never know what you'll get.

For A Biography of James Baldwin, he used a discussion between Baldwin, Lorraine Hansberry, and Langston Hughes as a sound score. Lucifer's Prance was a response to the Sistine Chapel's baroque physicality. Word of Mouth incorporated video projections and explored the power of language on at least three levels. Last year's Cause, which explored the theme of hate, was created with six poets from Youth Speaks and will be shown again, in a new version, this season.

The President's Daughter is inspired by an 1853 abolitionist novel by an escaped slave named William Wells Brown, Clotel: or, The President's Daughter: A Narrative of Slave Life in the United States. Often considered the first novel by an African American writer, it tells the story of a mother, Currer, her two daughters, Clotel and Althesa, and their attempts to escape from slavery. Though fictionalized, the tale managed to out the country's third president:

"Thus closed a Negro sale, at which two daughters of Thomas Jefferson, the writer of the Declaration of American Independence, and one of the presidents of the great republic, were disposed of to the highest bidder!"

Moses says he didn't want to restrict himself to a story about race, although he acknowledges that "every time you put a black person onstage, the race element is there." He wasn't trying not to use it, he says, "but neither did I want it to dominate." A fervent reader of histories, he had begun to perceive a pattern: ever since the United States' beginnings, he says, "men in power have used their position to subjugate women, and until Clinton these guys have always gotten away with it." Here Moses is referring not only to politicians but also to any number of entertainers, sports figures, and business tycoons who might join the sorry lineup.

"This male power and control thing is just so childish," he says, describing the attitude thusly: "I want everything, and I should be able to because I am a male, and because you are another male, you understand this, and as a woman you know not to challenge me on this."

While he was moved by Brown's novel, as a choreographer Moses found its melodramatic tone and convoluted storytelling a straitjacket. "It's great stuff, of course, but it's also heavy-handed, and the text just about hits you over the head." How to avoid clichés about race, gender, and power? What could he say that hasn't been declaimed many times before? For answers, he went to his dancers.

Usually Moses comes in with clear ideas of how he wants a piece to go, generating about 80 percent of the movement material; not this time around. Everyone read the book. They talked about race, about how women and men relate, about power, about status. He made the dancers memorize a passage and gave them exercises. Look at the word kettle, he told them. How would a master, a servant, the lady of the house, a child relate to that particular object?

What evolved was a structure – still tentative, Moses insists – that looks at the thematic material from the inside and the outside simultaneously. The production will include a chorus of women – not at a distance as in a Greek drama, but one involved in the action. There will be text from the novel, a narrator, a score with the "emotional tone," Moses says, of spirituals and work songs, and of course, as always, "a lot of motion, since I have an affinity for motion."

In addition to his history reading, Moses draws on another, less obvious love, science fiction, and this inspiration too finds its way into his work. "It's always about relationships, often about a relationship with the other, the alien," he says. " 'I don't know who you are.' We don't know how to communicate, and we spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to resolve whatever conflict, whatever common interests we have."

Each story has its own language, its own detailed world. But you can only use it once, he says. "You need to find another way to create a vivid picture. That's the challenge."

Robert Moses' Kin performs through Feb. 27. The President's Daughter, Cause, and 3 Quartets for 4 and the Second Is 2 run Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m. (also Feb. 27, 2 p.m.), Jewish Community Center of San Francisco, 3200 California, S.F. $18-$26. (415) 292-1233, www.robertmoseskin.org.