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In Facing Mekka, Rennie Harris takes a journey to the roots of hip-hop
BY TAMARA WIEDER
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I’VE JUST DISCOVERED that, in addition to his renown as a hip-hop choreographer, Rennie Harris has another reputation that precedes him — and it’s got nothing to do with dance. It’s an hour before a scheduled phone conversation with the man behind the Philadelphia-based Rennie Harris Puremovement dance company, and I’ve unearthed an article that labels him "challenging" and "tricky" to interview. In fact, he’s nothing of the sort. By turns gracious, funny, and thoughtful, the 39-year-old Harris — who began his professional dance career at 15 — speaks openly about his life as a dancer and choreographer for productions including the award-winning Rome & Jewels, an explosive hip-hop retelling of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. And he’s more than willing to talk about his latest production, Facing Mekka, a decidedly introspective and spiritual work in which Harris collaborates with dancers, vocalists, DJs, collage artists, and a percussionist. Q: I’ve read that you’re tricky to interview. Why would that be the perception? A: I don’t know [laughing]. I guess when I’m being interviewed, some of the questions seem like people want a certain answer, so they’re kind of baiting the answers. Part of that is just kind of avoiding the answer they want me to give them. But not on purpose; it’s the true answer. And I think especially in the very beginning when I’m creating work, I really don’t know what I’m doing, so it’s hard for me to answer questions. It’s like, "Oh, what are you thinking?" and I’m like, "I don’t know what I’m thinking; I’m just creating." So I think when I’m in that kind of process, it gets a little tricky, I guess. That’s my own thinking on it. That’s really funny — that’s the first time I’ve heard that. Q: Facing Mekka has been described as a pilgrimage. What do you consider your personal pilgrimage through dance? A: Dance is one of the ways that people worship, and I feel like I’ve been given this tool in order to worship. It’s the same with anyone who’s very expressive and they choose whatever mode to express themselves; it’s kind of like your healing, in a way. People who don’t dance, I always feel kind of sorry for them — Q: That’s a lot of people to feel sorry for ... A: Yeah. But I realize that it wasn’t just dance; I guess the hope was for them to recognize what their tool or their mode of worship is. How they would worship, how they would push themselves forward spiritually. I always felt that dance was a major part of healing myself. Just by definition alone, walking and moving is dance. It keeps you well-rounded for your journey. Q: The language that’s being used to describe this production is much softer and more introspective than the language that’s usually used to describe hip-hop culture. Why is that, and what do you think it says about where this dance form is headed? A: First of all, one of my little missions from the beginning was to kind of downplay the dynamics of hip-hop. Even in my earlier work, like in my repertory work from the ’90s, there was only maybe one piece that was really dynamic, and that was Students of the Asphalt Jungle. The rest of the stuff ... was kind of funky, really slow, and they’re really introspective. I didn’t want to get in there and ... push the acrobatics and dynamics of hip-hop; rather, I wanted to play with the stuff that people never saw or never thought about that goes on in hip-hop culture, because historically African-Americans in this country [have been] projected as something that’s acrobatic and dynamic all the time, so I wanted to kind of reverse that. And I did it a little bit in the repertory works, but with Facing Mekka and with Rome & Jewels, here was a chance to really do it, to kind of pull it back and see, how do I deconstruct the movement — not so much how, I know how to do it, but rather show the process which we went through in order to get to the dynamics that people see. What’s interesting is that as soon as I began to focus on the deconstruction of it, then I felt like people wanted to associate that with the modern-dance aesthetic. To me it was like, "Why does it have to be that?" Over the years I think a lot of people would say, "Oh yeah, he’s taking African dance and modern dance and fusing it with hip-hop," [but] I don’t know African and I don’t know modern dance. It makes sense now, with Facing Mekka, to challenge people’s perceptions. So I want to know, is it hip-hop? I want the audience to tell me, do they think it’s hip-hop? Because now, to the naked eye, it doesn’t look like hip-hop. It’s like hip-hop and beyond, so to speak. Where Rome & Jewels was clearly a hip-hop show. Q: If you’re at a cocktail party and someone asks you what you do for a living, what do you tell them? What do you consider yourself first: a hip-hopper? A choreographer? A: Dancer. I just tell them I’m a dancer. Then the second part to that is, yeah, okay, I choreograph. And then of course they continue to ask the questions: then they ask me what kind of dance I do, and I tell them I do hip-hop, and then I can see in their eyes that they’ve already defined what it is. Then the other part is, "Who do you dance for?" And I’m like, "Well, I dance for myself." We get booked in theaters to perform, to do concert dance. And then they’re searching for, it’s almost like I can see their brain searching for something to hold onto, something that makes sense to them, so they can get it. Because no one can really picture it, when you tell them that. Q: Obviously it’s harder than ever to get arts funding these days. How do you afford to do a production like Facing Mekka? What kinds of sacrifices have you had to make? A: Well, we really can’t afford to do this production! You know, personnel, reputation: because now sometimes we have to change the personnel because we can’t afford to take everybody on the road, and then the presenter’s unhappy because it’s not what they saw. I think the show easily [costs] $60,000 a week; we never get that. We’re lucky if we get 50. Most of the time we’re settling between 35 and fortysomething. And that’s if [the promoters] pay for travel and housing. But for this piece, I don’t feel like I was being vain. I wanted to do it, and do it because it was important to do it. With Rome & Jewels, I think I was being vain. I’d had the idea since I was 15, so I wanted to be kind of fantastical with Rome & Jewels. I [envisioned] it on Broadway and I [envisioned] it in a bigger space, and I wanted to project that energy with Rome & Jewels. This, it’s kind of like, if you can afford it, you can have it; if you can’t, we’re not coming. I really honestly didn’t want to tour Facing Mekka at all; I just wanted to do it and then it’d be done. Q: When did you realize that you had made it as a dancer and choreographer, that you were able to do this for a living? A: [Laughing] I don’t think I’ve made it yet! Q: But it is your day job. A: I don’t know the actual time, the actual year. In a way, I’ve been on the road all my life. Right out of high school I went on tour, until ’87. I messed around for about a year and then worked at Tower Records for like two years and then Rennie Harris Puremovement was born. And that was it. In a way, I kind of feel like my whole life has always been supported by what it is that I do. Q: How has your lifestyle changed over the years? A: I don’t live in the same neighborhood — not that the neighborhood I’m living in now is anything better! But, you know, I don’t think about certain things the way I used to think about certain things. Like, $100 is no longer a lot of money to me. I remember when, sheesh, I couldn’t put 50 cents together. And I was like twentysomething years old. There is some relief. I never really felt that I was in poverty; I mean, my mom had three jobs. There are certain things I remember in hindsight now, like, "Oh, I must’ve been poor." Q: You’re turning 40 this year. Mark Morris, when he turned 40, seemed to mellow out. Do you foresee your career changing after you hit 40? A: I don’t know. I’m excited to know what’s going to happen. I was told I was going to have drama up till about 45. This Indian dude who read my palm [told me that]. He told me that my drama is slowing down, but it won’t stop until I’m about 45. So I’m waiting to see what happens. I’m excited about that part. I’m tripping out that I’m like a 40-year-old hip-hop dancer, though. That’s buggin’ me out. Q: Do you think that’s how writers are going to start describing you? A: They may. Who knows? [They will] if I get out there and try to do something I can’t do no more! I’m careful to make sure that every time I get out on the floor, I’ve got my little 30 seconds of movement. Q: How often do you get to see other dance forms? Ballet? Tap? A: I don’t get to see it a lot. And now I’m kind of discouraged; I don’t really want to go see anything anymore. Q: Why are you discouraged by it? A: I don’t like it too much. See, I like the ballet, because it makes sense to me. It’s clear, and it’s dated, and you know you’re going to see something that’s dated. But when you’re going to see work that people think is innovative, that to me I don’t think is that innovative, it looks like the same stuff to me, and then it gets kind of discouraging. The dance world, it seems like it’s this factory, with people with these egos and attitudes like, "I’m going to innovate dance." Well, who are you to tell somebody you’re going to innovate something? Most of the time, [real innovators] don’t even know that they’re innovating something. God bless them; I mean, I think it’s a thin line between confidence and vanity, so I’m always careful to walk it with myself, but I also see and hear within the young choreographers and the dancers, people are trying to come up with their own style or technique. I think it’s all projected. It’s like, why? Just do your thing; if you’re inspired, you’re inspired. And basically, the truth of the matter is, if you are supposed to be the one, you will be the one. It’s as simple as that. The people make you. You don’t have to convince nobody. If you’re doing it, the people will tell you. So I get frustrated with that kind of stuff. And I really just haven’t seen any good work. And the other thing is, I don’t come from that stock. It’s interesting; a lot of people want to know what I thought about their stuff, and I’m like, "I don’t come from modern dance; I don’t have a modern-dance-history background." Q: Which doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it; you just maybe can’t comment on it. A: Yeah, I don’t feel like I can comment on it, but apparently a lot of people want me to comment on it! I literally have to go back and read the history books, just so I know. Which is cool: I like that, it’s interesting. Q: I just read an article that described you as "best known as the man who brought hip-hop to Shakespeare." Is that how you’d choose to be best known? A: I think I’d like to be best known for education, because I think what I do is education. I don’t think of it as performing or entertaining and all that kind of stuff. I would like to think all of that was my way of educating people. Whether it helped spiritually or whether it helped just to say, okay, hip-hop is expressive, and it’s more expressive than you think it is. World Music presents the Boston premiere of Rennie Harris’s Facing Mekka at the Cutler Majestic Theatre, in Boston, October 17, 18, and 19. Call (617) 876-4275, or visit www.worldmusic.org. Tamara Wieder can be reached at twieder[a]phx.com
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