The Lens Through Which I View the World

BY DAVID ANZUELO

Taking in the events of the past 17 months, I was asked, “How have we changed? And how do I think my work will change?”

Well, I can only speak for myself. So I will.

During the shutdown, I turned inward and allowed myself to rest and eat as much as I wanted, to finally read all those books I had been putting off, and watch the many films I’d never had the time for. It became a time of replenishing “the well” for me, filling my internal reservoir with the beautiful writings of Isabel Allende, Zadie Smith, James Baldwin, Rudolfo Anaya, and Elie Wiesel. I also meditated daily and set up a schedule with my mom and we practiced qi gong twice a week on FaceTime. It was nourishing.

And speaking of nourishing, my husband and I made sure our lockdown days started off with a hearty breakfast and laughter, watching the comedic antics of Lucille Ball, Carol Burnett, and THE MUNSTERS. Laughter is the best medicine, right? Since the gyms were closed, we did body weight exercises and constructed homemade weights with bamboo sticks and milk jugs filled with water—until we realized the shutdown was going to last much longer than anyone realized and we ordered adjustable dumbbells and a stationary bike online. Evenings were spent watching the films of Fosse, Kurosawa, Kubrick, and David Lynch. I wanted to flood my mind with powerful images and visions of ecstatic human bodies cutting through space. It was a customized program of self-care.

Gradually, work appeared online, and I made the pivot to act and teach. I participated in several Zoom readings and workshops, and taught for both LAByrinth Theater Company and the University of San Diego Graduate Theatre Program for five weeks, where I gave a workshop I called “The Artist’s Shamanic Journey: A Reclamation of Personal Energy during COVID-19.” Basically, I just shared my self-care program with others. It was well received and it felt good to help others.

Bradley James Tejeda + Gabriel Diego Hernández in EL COQUI ESPECTACULAR AND THE BATTLE OF DOOM at Two River Theater, fight direction by David Anzuelo

PHOTO Richard Termine

For the few in-person jobs that came in, I worked from a distance and wore a mask and gloves. In the past, I could have physically demonstrated with actors, but I now focused almost exclusively on words to communicate choreography. I talked of the proximity of bodies, extension of limbs, line of energy, duration of motion, rhythm, repetition, and quality of touch, and I referred to what I called “corporeal knowledge,” which is what I call the wisdom gleaned through the body’s experience in the world. I used musical terms more and spoke about the “rest” moments in the choreography, the space between action, even the space between breaths. Restful moments in both life and art are important.

But the biggest and most important change for me came with the social reckoning that erupted in our country in the wake of the killing of George Floyd and the attack on our nation’s capital. I began to reexamine the social and racial context of my fight/intimacy direction. As a queer Chicanx male-identifying fight/intimacy director, this was always the lens through which I viewed the world and worked, but now it became more intentional. I decided to make a more active effort to help tell stories by and for Black, Indigenous, Latine/x, Asian, and LGBTQ theatremakers. As theatres reopened in the wake of the vaccine rollout, I declined work that did not center people of the world majority or LGBTQA people. It became increasingly important for me to help BIPOC and LGBTQA theatremakers navigate what are often the most emotionally dangerous and physically challenging parts of a play. I now strive to work more consciously in my approach to choreographing violence on the bodies of actors of color and queer bodies, working to be sensitive about how the events of the world may have subtle yet profound influence on these artists and on myself. I am working to do better to balance the Queer/Latinidad/Indigenousness within myself and know that it does not exempt me from having blindspots that must be continuously worked on.

These are some of the most apparent personal, artistic, and procedural ways that I can see how I’ve changed and how it’s affected my work. The changes are still happening. I can feel it. Overall, I think it’s good.

David Anzuelo is an actor, fight/intimacy director, playwright, and founder of UnkleDave’s Fight-House.