Daniela Reina Téllez on the Power of Workshops and Circles
Daniela works“in the fields of experimental art and somatic practice” and explores “the political, ecological, and activist potential of workshops and physical practices as artistic practices.” What a joy and pleasureit was to meetthis wonderful person at theTouch&Play Festival!
I was moved by her social media post, in which she shared the transcript of her talk below, along with the words: “(…) Fellow and dear facilitators and circle-holders: Thank you for the work you do. Let’s keep gatherings and circles alive, especially now—whether they’re virtual, outdoors, at a distance, or with safer measures… Let’s keep them—and us—alive!”
And thank YOU for all the work you do, Daniela!
I hope that reading about her artistic journey and her tribute to workshops, gatherings, sessions, and circles will reach and enrich many people. Because course work and bodywork are immensely important—and, oddly enough, are sometimes dismissed—yet they rank among the most meaningful experiences and creations I have had the privilege of experiencing and shaping myself in this life.
So—let's get started:
Artist Lecture January 15, 2020
“When I arrived in Germany in 2013, I stopped painting and drawing—something I had been doing for 17 years—and was unable to find a way to return to my usual practices.”
That's when my own art practice began.
–
With a very small budget for art supplies, I started collecting dust, hairs, blood, skin, tea bags…
–
During my first nine months in Bremen, I ended up weaving a blanket out of my used tampons.
This was my first work created in Germany, and it was titled “Placenta.” This piece explored my very first reflections on womanhood, motherhood, home, homeland, shelter, and fertility.
–
I realized that I had migrated and that this meant something. I couldn’t go back to painting. It seemed as if no canvas could contain the stories I needed to tell, and that no image could capture what had happened to me during my first time here. And as I worked in a different way, I was exploring new territories and learning how to navigate them—both on Earth and in my art practice.
–
For the next few years, my own body served as the vessel for telling the stories I so desperately wanted to share. I explored myself as a historical product of colonialism in America and sought to use my artwork as an opportunity to create spaces for discussing human history and its consequences.
–
(In the summer of 2015, I completed a second textile piece using the hair I had lost during my first year in Europe. It was shaped like a map of the Royal Spanish Colony in 1790.)
–
Six months before that, I had founded an art collective consisting of five non-European artists who opened "TheImmigration Office" and, over the course of a year, ran a program of exhibitions, small shows, "One Night Stands," screenings, and various discussions.
During this time, I, as an individual, learned to see myself as an immigrant and was made to realize in several ways that I was a woman of color. As a group, we grappled with broader questions regarding the political implications of having a space in Germany named the “Immigration Office” at that specific time. The project invited us to reflect on the sociopolitical responsibilities and duties we have as artists and as citizens. For me, it raised two relevant questions: What is my duty as a “Latino woman”* in Europe? What is my duty as an artist?
–
After the Immigration Office closed its doors, I set out on an art journey in the opposite direction from the one many people were taking at the time. I left the Schengen Area and entered Turkey, hoping to complete an art project called “Home Wasn’t Built in a Day,” which was intended to be finished at an archaeological site in southeastern Anatolia, a few kilometers from the Syrian border. During the first three months of my journey, I encountered shocking incidents of racism, sexual assault, and threats to my life. I took a break and went to live and recover at a Sufi temple, where I learned how to whirl. I spun in circles for three to five hours a day for four weeks.
–
–
Due to the political situation in the area, I was forced to change my plans and head back to Europe. I wrapped up this trip and concluded my art project on the Greek island of Kos, where I worked as a volunteer in the makeshift camps for the hundreds of people arriving by sea and reaching Europe.
What was my duty as a (privileged) immigrant? As an artist?
–
Through the end of 2016, I continued to create works that explored the information embedded in my body, reflected on power dynamics in relationships and in politics, and investigated the implications and consequences of imperialism, patriarchy, and colonialism on the land, the flora, and the body.
The questions surrounding my duty and my responsibility persisted, and my conviction that urgent action was needed in light of the current global situation—which I was both witnessing and participating in—undermined my confidence in the validity of my practice as an artist.
–
In the course of this, I fell ill, and I had the opportunity to rethink my understanding of life, illness, health, and healing.
For the next two years, I attended botanical school, learned about South American plant medicine, visited healers, learned how to lead circles, and completed a training program to become a yoga teacher.
–
I have been teaching breathwork, yoga, and movement exploration for the past two years. I have also led and co-led workshops and facilitated spaces on self-determined gynecology, herbal medicine, female sexuality, self-love and self-determination, consent, and human relationships.
Over the past few years, I have come to recognize and fully embrace my interest in storytelling:“cuentería.”
Before 2017, I told stories during my performances, through my installations, and behind my sculptures.
Now I have discovered circles as a format and container for this practice.
–
Sitting in a circle is a political statement that moves away from the patriarchal practice of a podium where a speaker speaks to rows of an audience that listens. Giving this talk is important to me because it brings things full circle. And it is also difficult, precisely because of the format of this presentation. I could have rearranged the space to create a circle of chairs. Or I could have asked you all to do so together. But this is why I need formats like workshops;
If this were a workshop, your presence here would imply that you understand you will not only observe but also actively participate. My rearranging the space to form a circle of chairs—which will affect your experience—or my asking you to do so together can only be consensual if you know before coming here that you will be a participant, rather than a visitor.
I'm interested in circles that look like this:
One to thirty people gather and sit around a central point. If there happens to be only one person, that person is the central point. As the facilitator, I am there to guide the experience, but not to lead the conversation. At the beginning of each meeting, the framework and intention are established and agreed upon collectively.
These circles can last anywhere from one hour to ten days. We sit, we speak, we move, we make sounds other than words, we breathe, we sweat, we feel, we touch one another, we touch ourselves, we share, we listen, and we remain silent.
–
–
I have come to believe in the significance of a form of art that brings stories and histories to light and creates opportunities for experience and reflection.
"I continue to explore the information embedded in my body, reflecting on power dynamics in my relationships and in politics, and identifying the lasting effects of imperialism, patriarchy, and colonialism. Circles now serve as consistent and consensual spaces for me to do this—not alone, but together."
Daniela Reina Téllez works as a translator between histories, movement, and form. In her performances and installations, stories are told, danced, and arranged in space. In recent years, her interdisciplinary practice has taken the form of workshops and laboratories that are understood as artistic media and material.
Learn more about Daniela’s work at https://lenta-menta.info/ and https://danielareinatellez.tumblr.com/
