To be an independent artist means fighting a constant uphill battle of preserving artistic integrity while scrambling for limited resources. The past year has seen San Francisco’s resources further limited with the closures of go-to indie venues EXIT Theatre and PianoFight (and a change of ownership for Stage Werx). Yet while many have pulled up stakes, choreographer Raissa Simpson and her PUSH Dance Company decided to plant their roots even deeper.
The oft-nomadic troupe found its way to the new 447 Minna St. arts complex, setting up the Sanctuary, a rehearsal space, dance studio and performance venue for artists and communities of color. One of the few new indie venues to spring up in the ever-pricey San Francisco, its christening coincides with the start of PUSH’s 18th season.
To mark both occasions, Simpson created “Performable Posthumanism,” a multimedia dance piece that critiques the use of artificial intelligence and predictive policing technology by a criminal justice system notorious for mistreating people of color. By tragic coincidence, the piece premieres the same year and in the same city where Banko Brown, a homeless Black transgender man, was killed by police, and autonomous vehicles have run over pedestrians.
These are among the topics I bring up when I catch a word with Raissa before the 18th anniversary celebration. We also touched on the intersection of art and technology, and how San Francisco’s art scene has changed over the nearly two decades she’s been creating with PUSH.
With so many San Francisco and Bay Area indie venues shutting their doors, how does one even open a new program in a new venue?
Raissa Simpson: As artists, we’re always faced with pressures to be economically viable and accepted, but more importantly, to follow economic models that tend to be not very accessible to us. I took a different route and reached out to the Community Arts Stabilization Trust, who is not your typical landlord. With CAST, we were able to secure a 2,400+ square-foot space in their multi-tenant hub at 447 Minna St. in downtown San Francisco. PUSH now resides on the full third floor with workstations and a dance studio, better known as the Sanctuary.
The Sanctuary is a BIPOC sanctuary. We believe people of the global majority have contributed to the vitality of the Bay Area and should have a space to incubate new ideas. Individually, our identities have been minoritized yet collectively, we possess a great deal of collaborative power and resources. We intend to host culturally specific classes to the general public, provide reasonable rehearsal space and host performances.
What’s changed most about San Francisco’s artistic landscape in the 18 years since PUSH was founded?
RS: Aside from food, I think dance is one of the largest transmitters of culture. San Francisco’s landscape changed so much — not just for dance studios and professional dance artists, but also for the dance community as a whole. After taking classical ballet and modern dance classes for my training, I remember cutting my teeth on the dance floor at nightclubs. I mean, the fun parts of the city — like open air-dance events or just watching capoeira in Dolores Park — are now distant memories of mine. These pockets of dance life filtered into my professional life. Another devastating change was when I bid “au revoir” to my audiences as communities of color began to [migrate away] from San Francisco.
How would you say PUSH itself has changed over the years?
RS: Changed or adapted? I’m not certain we’ve changed, but we’re no longer nomadic. We used to perform outside museums, community centers and the beach. It’s definitely a surreal experience to have a home and to call a place home. I don’t know if this vision would have happened without support or the past support from venues that believed in us; San Francisco is amazing in that regard. We’ve grown from just paying people to dance to cultivating an art ecosystem for teachers, resident artists and arts presenting. I can’t think of a better change.
Your work “Performable Posthumanism” is central to the recent season announcement and it will feature traditional and modern technologies. With the constant worry of artists being replaced by some form of tech, what technologies do you think artists should embrace more?
Dancing really is the multiverse. I’m not so concerned with being replaced by technology as much as I am worried about who is developing the technology. After having this experience working with global majority technologists, I can see how ethical AI and technology could be developed. However, technology mirrors and even enhances society, so I think we need more forward-thinking developers with a deeper sense of responsibility to humanity. The technologies that should be embraced are the types that improve the quality of life for everyone, despite socioeconomic status or race.
“Performable Posthumanism” is inspired by Black Posthumanism and the simultaneous existence of Sankofa or looking at the past in order to create a future. All of the technologies developed in the dance piece are created by global majority technologists. More specifically, the piece examines the role of AI in the judicial system. I have the fortunate pleasure to work with technologists who understand the importance of the project and the role technology plays in policing Black lives.
Regarding merging art and tech, have you and PUSH explored streaming theater options?
RS: Streaming is something that we decided to do post-show [instead of] live. The option to stream became invaluable to me during the pandemic for physical and personal reasons. It made me realize how many caretakers and parents would love to visit venues and events but couldn’t. Overall, streaming our performances highlighted the fact that there’s an audience for it who are eager to watch shows online.
You mention “Performable Posthumanism’s” look at technology in law enforcement, which often has disastrous outcomes. How do you explore this new use of technology without the technology overshadowing the work?
RS: The dance piece reaches a delicate balance of reclaiming Black lives [in the] technological world while acknowledging the dangers the tech industry holds when “colorblind” algorithms are employed. Technology is integrated throughout the four stations we’ve developed inside the 447 Minna St. building. The layout of the piece includes the performers looping their performances in various stations while audiences move about each station. There’s a transition period for audience members to move to the next station. In one particular station, the audience will come across a dancer having a conversation with an AI app developed by Philip Butler called Seekr. Seekr is a Black mental health app, and in the performance, it will help someone who is afraid of being incarcerated.
After the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, performing arts establishments promised to look within and take greater strides toward diversity of staff and performance material. As a former member of the African-American Theater Alliance for Independence, how would you say most local companies have fared?
RS: When I was a member of AATAIN, we strove to bring attention to what was happening in San Francisco, which prides itself as a liberal bastion. Although the George Floyd uprising and Breonna Taylor [murder] brought to light the racial disparities found in San Francisco, well-meaning white liberals didn’t seem to know what to do about systemic racism. At that same time, I was also a member of Dancing Around Race, a group made up of Black, Asian, South Asian and Latiné members. With DAR, I did extensive research and found that many of the letters and promises, while well-intended, were really about optics. There was little-to-no real strategic planning on the part of arts establishments to have a two- to five-year judicious plan and someone to hold them accountable to it.
Performers of color are still marginalized in performing arts, yet those interested often don’t know how to find a place like the Sanctuary. What more do you think can be done to get the word out, and whom do you hope finds their way there?
RS: Our stories are being banned, whitewashed and tokenized. Global majority performers are more than symbolic representation of their communities on stage. The Sanctuary is a place to explore restorative dance practices and to realize the wisdom our cultures hold. We did a pilot test run of the Sanctuary with a residency for teaching artists. The feedback was alarmingly good, and I started to wonder why our space differed from others. I think that just knowing you’re welcome and that you belong here is a liberating feeling.
Mass media currently portrays San Francisco as akin to a sci-fi dystopia. What do you see when you look at the city and consider its cultural value?
RS: Is it the driverless cars that gave it away? What we find here is how the past really does inform the future. The tech industry moving in and the creation of a monoculture is potentially part of redevelopment plans that started decades ago. What do I see when I look at the city? I’m seeing a city that constantly reincarnates itself through resistance. We are still here. Watching the news, I see a counter-narrative so desperate for attention — it’s sad. We are making changes here in San Francisco and we won’t be intimidated or scared into going back to the same old tired narratives the media wants.
While the San Francisco death of a white techie like Bob Lee will be taken at face value as a tragedy (he was revealed to have been killed by a fellow techie), the death of Banko Brown is regarded as inevitability. How does PUSH attempt to reclaim that kind of narrative?
RS: These two examples highlight the injustices Black people face every day in San Francisco. This should remind us that “liberal San Francisco” is not absolved from anti-Blackness and racial profiling. It’s true that what happened to Banko Brown didn’t need to happen. Racial profiling is such a problem that a hashtag #ShoppingWhileBlack was created. It’s not lost on me that Brown was a Black transgender man suspected of shoplifting and shot by a Walgreens security guard outside the store! Our work at PUSH has constantly given a platform to voices that remain unheard and unseen. From our examination with the toxic clean-up at the Hunters Point Shipyard to “codelining” (redlining and coding), we’ve had our share of interviewing Black residents and then helping them tell their own stories on stage.
The ongoing pandemic continues to disproportionately affect people of color, who often lack comparable access to health care and personal protective equipment. How will the Sanctuary be a safe space for the immuno-compromised who seeks an artistic outlet?
RS: The Sanctuary was developed during the pandemic and with care for those populations who are immuno-compromised. When we open classes in 2024, we’ll also have the capability to stream online classes for those who need it. Our Sanctuary also has extensive heating, ventilating and air conditioning systems and air filters. There are plenty of windows and circulating air. The pandemic, wildfires and other elements are here to stay for now and I think safety is essential. Our production just rolled out a “Safety & Face Coverings” guide. We also have a neighboring built-in outdoor stage that we partner with to move indoor events outside if needed. Care for our communities is essential to us.
Considering the upcoming season, what are you looking forward to (besides your own show)?
RS: If you’re into experimental hip-hop theater, check out the Hip-Hop Artist Residency & Training’s HART Showcase coming this March. In the near future, I’m also looking forward to the return of our annual festival for emerging and mid-career choreographers, PUSHfest, which was canceled due to the pandemic. Beyond PUSH, we’re collaborating with so many different artists including Indigenous performing artist Snowflake Calvert and Noorani Dance Company. You can see us on Oct. 15 dancing away and I hope you can join us for a class or two.
What does the future of PUSH look like for you?
RS: Our 20th anniversary is coming soon. I’ve been engaged in cultural affairs and attended the Biennial Research Conference to present my paper “Placemaking Alterity In/And Culturally Affirming Spaces.” I’m teaching at Stanford University and currently looking to grow cultural initiatives that bring communities of color together. It’s a lot of work but there are some amazing people working behind the scenes at PUSH. We’re a group of dance futurists using Afrofuturism as a roadmap to carve out programming and offerings to the public. It’s time to reclaim AI and the flying drones you’ll see in our piece as hopefully help inform how technology is developed in the future.
PUSH Dance Company’s 18th Anniversary Celebration and Sanctuary grand opening is at 6 p.m. Oct. 15 at 447 Minna St., San Francisco. Tickets are $15- 50. For tickets and more information, visit pushdance.org.
Charles Lewis III is a San Francisco-born journalist and performing artist who has written for the San Francisco Chronicle, KQED, San Francisco Examiner and more. Dodgy evidence of this can be found at The Thinking Man’s Idiot.