>> BOWEN: I'm Jared Bowen.

Coming up on Open Studio, a new art form steps forward with Step Afrika!

(people chanting, rhythm pounding) Then poet and National Book Award winner Martín Espada.

>> Poetry is able to do something, uh, to move people.

Uh, it's able to do something that gets behind or inside the headlines.

>> BOWEN: All that plus our weekly round-up of everything to see in Arts This Week.

That's now on Open Studio.

♪ ♪ It's not often that a new art form is invented in the modern age.

But that's exactly what happened when groups of Black college students originated their own forms of dance.

Which we can see now at ArtsEmerson with the group Step Afrika!

(performers chanting, drums beating) C. Brian Williams, thank you so much for being with us.

>> Thank you, thank you, and you can just call me Brian.

>> BOWEN: Well, tell, tell me how this dance first came to resonate with you.

>> Well, stepping is a really unique art form.

And Step Afrika!

is the first professional company in the world dedicated to this tradition.

I first learned how to step, uh, on, on the campus of Howard University in 1989.

("Remember the Time" by Michael Jackson playing) The only way to access the tradition is if you joined a fraternity, a historically Black fraternity or sorority.

>> BOWEN: I'm curious about your knowing of it, knowing that it wasn't so public.

So did you know of it and you sought it out?

What was... How public was it?

>> You know, that's a really good question, because I didn't know a lot about stepping before I got to Howard University.

I'd never actually even seen the art form practiced.

Most Americans still have not been introduced to the tradition of stepping, because for most of its existence, it has been in a, a part of a closed community.

>> BOWEN: How did it come to being and why was it closed?

>> When African Americans first began to attend colleges, majority White colleges at the time, they weren't allowed to be fully integrated into student life.

So they created their own fraternities and sororities.

And these places, these frats and sororities, were safe places for students during these, you know, very volatile times in American history.

They decided to express themselves in a very uniquely African way when they chose to demonstrate their love and pride to a broader community.

They began to sing songs, do movements in a line or a circle, and this, these movements and practices grew into what we now know as the art form of stepping.

(rhythm pounding, performers chanting) And so our newest production, Drumfolk, goes even deeper into why we step in the first place.

And we found some fascinating things in that process.

>> BOWEN: How much is it about the, the body and what the body can do and express?

>> Stepping for me is about the body becoming the drum.

But the real question for me was, why did we have to use the body as a drum?

Why didn't we just play the drum?

At what point in the African American experience did we start to use the body as a drum?

And that's what led us to the Stono Rebellion of 1739 and the Negro Act of 1740.

Both of these events are what our latest production, Drumfolk, is and are based on.

>> BOWEN: What happened in 1739?

>> Well, it's a wild time in American history.

It's 1739 in South Carolina.

The institution of slavery is alive and well, sadly.

And Africans are fighting against the tradition, they're rejecting the injustice that slavery was.

So they lead a rebellion.

Word has it that they, they used their drums as a way to call others to fight.

They became very concerned that the drum and that the, and then African people were going to resist even further.

So they passed a set of laws, later became known as the Negro Act of 1740, that took away the right for Africans to use the drum.

And for us, once the drum has disappeared from African people, the body and other instruments become the drum.

>> BOWEN: So you have been immersed in this for almost 30 years.

>> Yeah.

>> BOWEN: And to have this new history, how does that inform you?

>> Oh, so it's exciting for me.

It's so exciting, because it's like, it reminds you about how many stories we still don't know.

And for me in particular, as an African American, how African American culture developed here, and what are some of the clues that we can discover along the way?

>> BOWEN: So then you go to Africa, and you spend time there.

>> Yeah.

>> BOWEN: And you see the art form, not the same art form, but the art of dance there.

How did you make the connection?

>> The year after I graduated from Howard University in Washington, D.C., I went to Southern Africa to live and study.

And it's there that I became, was introduced to traditional South African forms and dance styles that were really inspiring and very exciting to me.

One in particular was the South African gumboot dance.

>> (shouts out) >> So I saw this dance, it's created by men who worked in the mines of South Africa.

And it's also percussive.

The drum is absent.

The men are using their hands and their feet to make music.

So it's strikingly similar to stepping, but I had never heard of the form.

And, likewise, they had also never heard of stepping.

So the idea was to bring the two art forms together, stepping meet the South African gumboot dance, hence the name Step Afrika!

>> BOWEN: And what does it mean for you to do it today?

>> You know, today it's about preserving and promoting the art form.

You know, Step Afrika!

is here as one of the largest African American dance companies in the world today.

We're here to preserve and promote this uniquely American art form.

The performance for me basically goes all the way from 1739 to today, and audiences will see the evolution of a form, really, in this performance.

>> BOWEN: How key is the audience?

In many, in many performance venues, the audience is passive.

Is that the case here?

>> Well, as soon as Step Afrika!

hits the stage, we are looking to connect and engage the audience.

I mean, we really want the audience to feel free to make music, to talk, to share, to yell, to scream.

I don't care what they do with the artists.

>> BOWEN: How were the Obamas as an audience?

You were at the White House.

>> We were the featured performer at Obama's Black History Month reception.

Performing in the White House was an honor, but I also love going all across our country, sharing this art form with all Americans.

>> BOWEN: Well, speaking of all Americans, I wonder what it was like to bring men and women together, because it started in sororities and fraternities, not together.

>> I don't know if you've seen School Daze, when... >> BOWEN: Spike Lee.

>> Spike Lee.

>> Introducing the first of all Black Greeks, the men of distinction, the brothers of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Incorporated.

>> When that movie came out, it really introduced fraternity and sorority life to a broad swath of American culture, of Americans.

And you started to see the art form of stepping then being introduced in high schools, and middle schools, and elementary schools, and kind of step teams sprouted all around the country.

So I actually love that, because what it means is that the art form has grown.

>> BOWEN: I don't think I've ever had the opportunity to ask an artist about something that is, about an art form that is so new.

>> Mm-hmm.

>> BOWEN: And here you are, you're preserving it, you're curating it.

You're, you're taking care of it.

>> That's what this 29-, 30-year journey has been about.

Exploring the art form and determining... You know, we've merged stepping with symphonies, with rock music, with Appalachian clogging, Irish step dancing, with Israeli folk dance, with traditional African dances from all over-- from Tanzania, to West Africa, to really everywhere in the world.

We just got back from Bolivia, collaborating with Indigenous culture there.

So we are really...

The art form to us is a way to connect and create, and that's what's motivated us all these years.

>> BOWEN: Well, Brian, thank you so much.

It's been such a pleasure to be with you.

>> Thank you, thank you for your questions.

And thank you for the interview.

♪ ♪ >> BOWEN: Next, we mark National Hispanic Heritage Month with poet Martín Espada.

His most recent book is called Floaters, the title he gave to a poem he wrote after seeing a devastating photograph of a migrant father and daughter face down in the Rio Grande.

He has been praised for observing where others turn away.

We revisit a conversation we had with the National Book Award winner last December.

Martín Espada, thank you so much for being with us today.

Congratulations on the award.

>> Thank you very much.

>> BOWEN: To begin, because so much of your subject matter deals with human rights and social justice issues, I wonder if you consider that your writing has a very specific purpose, and what that purpose serves for you.

>> Well, certainly that is one major purpose of my writing.

It's not the only focus of what I do.

In fact, the book is... Includes not only political poems, but love poems, as well.

Of course, this being my book, they're political love poems.

Um, but there's a, there's a broad range.

It's a difficult book to define, even for me.

I will say that this comes from a tradition, and the tradition includes not only poetry, but photography.

Because my father, Frank Espada, was a documentary photographer, created the Puerto Rican Diaspora Documentary Project, and therefore was a major influence on my work.

>> BOWEN: Well, I was reading about that, and I was quite struck by, by what that thread is between photography and poetry, specifically.

>> There are several threads.

One thread is certainly what we think of as the image.

Now, of course, when I speak of the image in poetry, I'm referring to all five senses, and... As opposed to merely the visual.

But we also must come back to that word "purpose" that you used earlier, because my father's purpose was very focused, as is mine.

His intent was to document the Puerto Rican migration.

So it's about the meeting of art and advocacy.

It's about the meeting of craft and commitment.

>> BOWEN: I wonder how poetry is particularly well suited for, for documenting and mirroring this time and these, these circumstances that we're in today.

>> I think poetry is able to capture certain intangibles.

Certain qualities that are elusive in other media.

Poetry is able to do something to move people.

It's able to do something that gets behind or inside the headlines.

You may have noticed it in the book.

There are many poems that are narrative poems.

These are storytelling poems, but they also have a journalistic quality, and even have journalistic sources, which I cite in the book.

>> BOWEN: To go back to what you just said, in describing your process for finding words and scenes and moments, but, but all senses, do you feel, as you're encapsulating something, as you're describing an environment, a situation, are you, are you there?

Do you smell where you are, do you feel where you are?

>> It's important for me to provide some movement from the general to the specific, from the abstract to the concrete, to put not only myself, but to put the reader or the listener there, too.

Now, there are many circumstances in these poems when I was there.

And it's important to emphasize that when I write such a poem, it's an act of witness.

>> BOWEN: Well, by way of example, let's talk about your poem "Floaters," which, of course, is the title of the book, as well.

And I wonder, take me to that moment when you first saw the photograph that became so indelible, of a father and daughter face down in the Rio Grande.

>> I don't even think I could tell you where I saw it first, because I saw it in so many places all at once.

And it sparked outrage.

It sparked grief.

But it also sparked what we call trutherism.

"Have ya'll ever seen floaters this clean.

"I'm not trying to be an ass, "but I have never seen floaters like this, could this be another edited photo."

So alongside the photograph, there was this commentary, specifically in the "I'm 10-15" Border Patrol Facebook group page, questioning whether this was doctored or staged.

And so I wrote the poem in response to that photograph, but also in response to that Facebook post, the mentality behind it.

>> BOWEN: And finally, I just want to end with, there's a lot of conversation about your work that revolves around activism and our political situation today, but there is a lot of humor in your work.

Is that something that comes naturally?

Is it something that you find as a release valve?

>> It's actually something I have to be careful with, because in some ways, it's too easy for me.

I think I have much more to say than simply trying to give someone else a giggle fit.

But, you know, the humor also occurs in poems where the subject matter is otherwise quite serious.

The last poem of the book is called "Letter to My Father."

It's about Hurricane Maria, in Puerto Rico, and I, in the poem, I'm talking to my father's ashes in a box on my bookshelf.

At the same time, I recall my father in the first part of the poem, and some of it is funny.

>> BOWEN: For the most part, when I've interviewed artists over the years, they're reluctant or sometimes can't pick a favorite.

But you have said that that poem, the letter, the letter to your father, is your favorite.

>> To be honest, my favorite changes sometimes.

You know, how could I look at this book and say that the wedding sonnet in the book, the one I read at my own wedding, is not my favorite?

And yet if I had to pick one poem to read, I would read "Letter to My Father."

"You once said: My reward for this life "will be a thousand pounds of dirt shoveled in my face.

"You were wrong.

"You are seven pounds of ashes in a box, "a Puerto Rican flag wrapped around you, "next to a red brick from the house in Utuado where you were born, all crammed together on my bookshelf."

This is a poem that speaks to me, to my father, to our relationship, to my community, to the island, but also to history.

And if there's one poem that I keep coming back to for that reason, it's that one.

>> BOWEN: Martín Espada, thank you again for your work and congratulations again on the award.

>> Thank you very much.

♪ ♪ >> BOWEN: It's time for Arts This Week, your download of the latest arts and culture events in and around town.

♪ ♪ The new M.I.T.

Museum is awesome.

I mean that in the truest sense of the word.

This is a brand-new space with a collection that will leave you in awe.

The future breathes here-- even if, with its A.I.

emphasis, they're often synthetic breaths.

But let me back up for a moment.

For years, the famed school told its story in a cramped, nondescript building in Cambridge.

Now it's moved down the street, into the heart of Kendall Square, in an exquisitely designed three-floor space that intends, the school says, to turn M.I.T.

inside out.

That means seeing some of humanity's greatest innovation for yourself.

The starshade petal that's allowed NASA to photograph exoplanets.

Part of the machine that helped sequence the human genome.

An instrument playing a 200-year-long song, partly inspired by whales.

(instrument humming) Now for the even more awesome, and sobering.

The M.I.T.

Museum devotes considerable attention to artificial intelligence, work of the past and of the now.

There's also A.I.

collaborative poetry.

The A.I.

program and I wrote a poem together.

It was a process I found both seductive and disturbing.

And to that end, M.I.T.

wants there to be discussion and critical thought here.

So it also populates the museum with artists interrogating innovation.

I have never been in a space like this, and for it, I was changed.

♪ ♪ The Davis Museum at Wellesley College brings a monumental work to the region-- a scrolling digital panorama by New Zealand artist Lisa Reihana.

A hit at the 2017 Venice Biennale, the piece is titled In Pursuit of Venus [Infected].

The artist's prompt is a scenic wallpaper very much en vogue in France in the early 1800s, coming on the heels of Captain James Cook's voyages in the South Seas.

It was called The Savages of the Pacific Ocean and exoticized Indigenous peoples, stripping them of their culture and depicting them in a classical setting.

Calling it a "fabulation invented in someone else's elsewhere," Reihana has reinterpreted the wallpaper.

Her panorama scrolls for roughly a half-hour.

The Maori artist stages a cross-cultural encounter between Indigenous people and members of Captain Cook's crew.

We observe dance and ceremony and scientific exchange.

But we also see strife and assault.

We witness it all from the land, from the Indigenous person's perspective.

The setting-- trees, seas, and mountains-- was all hand-painted and then digitized.

Reihana's panorama is immensely absorbing, the history of the wallpaper is a fascinating excavation, and the effort by the Davis Museum to bring the work here is staggering.

♪ ♪ Here's the other reason to visit Salem in October: the Punto Urban Art Museum, a public art district, where art lives through some 75 ever-changing murals in the city's neighborhood known as El Punto, or The Point.

Here buildings double as towering gallery walls featuring portraits, landscapes, and dreams.

It's a museum for and of the community, because all of the murals are emblazoned on buildings owned by the North Shore Community Development Coalition, a non-profit group providing affordable housing and health services to the area.

The artists behind this maze of murals are a combination of Salem residents and artists with a Hispanic background who take time to learn about the community before making their mark.

So take a stroll, and keep your head up-- literally-- because at the Punto Urban Art Museum, art is everywhere you look.

>> Oh, my God, that's Aaron!

He's very hot.

>> Gay guys are so stupid.

>> I know.

But we've been smart enough to brand ourselves as being smart.

>> It's our little secret.

♪ ♪ >> BOWEN: That's a scene from Bros, a new romantic comedy starring and co-written by comedian Billy Eichner.

There are significant firsts for this movie.

The first gay rom-com from a major studio.

The first studio film with an openly gay man starring and writing.

In other words, it's the first time since the invention of film that a gay story in the tradition of Bringing Up Baby or Sleepless In Seattle is getting mainstream support.

A shockingly long time.

Bros delightfully settles into the rom-com hallmarks: a montage through changing seasons, the Nat King Cole-flavored soundtrack, foursomes...

Okay, maybe the romantic part of the comedy is redefined with some sauciness here.

The writing is sharp, illustrating how much of the gay struggle remains embedded even in the freshest, most adorable romances.

History has been made with Bros.

Here's hoping it's a milestone and not a one-off memorial.

And now my pick for the week to come: Actors' Shakespeare Project opens its season with the play Let the Right One In, a vampire coming-of-age story with roots in Romeo and Juliet.

I'll see you at the theater and back here next week.

And that is all for this edition of Open Studio.

Next week: into the woods with sculptor Alison Croney Moses.

As always, you can visit us online at GBH.org/OpenStudio.

And you can see us first on youtube.com/gbhnews.

Remember to follow us on Instagram and Twitter, @OpenStudioGBH.

I'm @TheJaredBowen.

Well, every Friday, Jim Braude and Margery Eagan offer up live performances on Boston Public Radio.

So we leave you now with the Black Hole Symphony, performing at our Boston Public Library studio.

I'm Jared Bowen, thanks for watching.

(electronic rock-style music playing) (flute and cello begin softly) (music continues) >> (singing) (flute resumes, electronic music continues) (flute and singing continue) (tempo picks up, flute stops, cello and electronic music play) (fast tempo continues) (flute resumes) (fast tempo continues) (flute playing punctuating notes) (music suddenly slows and softens) (music fading, feedback hissing) (feedback stops, cello playing softly)