Tag Archives: embodiment

Storied Recovery

Storied Recovery

A review of Monique Bedard (Aura)’s “Constellations of Stars” in (Don’t) Call Me Crazy: 33 Voices Start the Conversation About Mental Health Edited by Kelly Jensen (Algonquin, 2018)

By Derek Newman-Stille

Located in a collection of stories about mental health called (Don’t) Call Me Crazy, Monique Bedard (Aura)’s poem “Constellations of Stars” reveals the way that mental health, identity, and landscape can interact with each other and speak to each other. Society pretends that mental health happens in isolation, but Bedard, a Haudenosaunee person illustrates the deep connection between colonial violence and what is coded as “mental health” issues.

Bedard uses poetry and word play to explore the relationship between body, land, identity, and the notion of storied existence. She begins by revealing to her reader that her body is a map of scars that tells a story. Her body is implicated throughout the poem, woven through her words and experiences. This is an emBODied work.

“Constellations of Stars” weaves together Bedard’s own narrative and the narrative of indigenous people in general, illustrating that there are shared experiences and that she feels the pain of colonial violence both from the people that came before her and in the violence, erasure, and loss of land that she has experienced. Bedard’s voice is a multiplicity in one, a shared truth. She explores the theft of indigenous lands, the pain of separation in residential schools, the theft of indigenous children by people who tried to erase their culture, missing and murdered aboriginal women, the erasure of languages, culture, and history. Her story is her own… but it is also larger than a single story.

Bedard explores the idea of “witness” – the power of the act of speaking about things that are being erased, giving voice to situations that were silenced, and enacting truths to counter colonial lies.

To discover more about Monique Bedard (Aura), visit her website at https://www.moniqueaura.com

To find out more about (Don’t) Call Me Crazy, visit https://www.workman.com/products/dont-call-me-crazy

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Dis Arts

By Derek Newman-Stille

Dis Art work by Derek Newman-Stille

Frequently, when people see the words “disability” and “art” in the same sentence, they assume that this means “art therapy”. This is partially because of the way we frame “disability” as something that always means “working toward being fixed” or “working toward a cure”. This idea is fundamentally ableist and assumes that disabled people only live in the context of medicalized lenses and that disabled people are only interested in being “fixed” – i.e. made into able-bodied people.

Art Therapy can be a worthwhile venture for people who are interested in therapeutic qualities of art and expression, but it is important to recognize that Dis Arts (art work by people with disabilities) is not the same as art therapy. Dis Arts is an expressive art form that may or may not stem from bodily experience. It is an art that expresses a disabled world view. It does not always have to be art that is specifically and noticeably about disability, but, rather, can be the expressions of a disabled person about other aspects of their lives, wider political commentaries, or expressions of beauty (art for art’s sake). 

I used to separate my disabled identity from my artistic identity, believing that I was creating fantasy art that had nothing to do with my disabled identity until people started to refer to me as a disabled artist. I had to pause and reconsider how my art reflects disability. I noticed that my art did show an interest in representing the body, and an interest in representing alterity (Otherness). As I was thinking about disability and art, I started to think about early diagnoses that I got from doctors about my learning disabilities. I was told early on that I would not be able to do art work because I have a fine motor disability. In fact, my early art work was described as consisting of “just scribbles” and early assessments told me that my “fine motor control is still quite immature”. These statements were repeated in later assessments even though I felt a compulsion to create art, to give context to the ideas in my imagination. In that way, art became a mechanism for me to resist hegemonic descriptions of my body. I refused to let my body be limited by the narratives that were imposed on it, so I devoted time to my art work. 

As I reflected on the idea of my art work being a resistance to narratives imposed on it, I realized that the act of making art itself was linked to my disability. It became something that stemmed from a resistant Crip empowered perspective. Even when I wasn’t creating art that specifically referenced my disability, my art was still a Dis Art, a work of counter-narrative to the medicalization of my body. 

After encountering the work of other Dis Arts performers and creators, I decided to venture into my own Dis Art and created several pieces that stemmed from my body itself, using the canvas as an extension of ideas about my body. I quickly found that the best medium for these art pieces was mixed media since mixed media, like my own body, is a conglomeration of objects, texts, and styles of art. It fit with my ideas of my own body as a composite of multiple different views and texts. I combined objects that seemed to resonate with my body into new images, focussing on my spine (for my spinal disability), my brain (for my learning disabilities), and ideas of the viewer, because people often stare at the disabled body. I assembled a series of mixed media works of art into a show titled Identity Masquerade: The Queer Crip Art of Derek Newman-Stille that I displayed as part of the Queer Coll(i/u)sions Conference, allowing the work to speak to people without my providing context for these pieces. I wanted people to reflect on the way that they saw these works of art, and to think about the way that the act of staring at art could reflect the way that people stare at the non-normate body. I emphasised this focus on staring by including mirrors in images that forced the watcher to stare at themselves as they tried to stare at the work of art. I included images of spines mixed with images of nude bodies to represent ideas of our bodied being rendered nude before the Gaze. 

Coming to Dis Arts was an act of self-discovery for me, an act of empowerment, and an act of vocalizing things that extended beyond words. 

Dis Arts are complicated because our disabled identities are complicated and are never fixed as one thing. Disabled bodies are fluid, and they intersect with our other identities as well as connecting to a community of artists who identify as disabled. There is a different kind of viewing in Dis Arts works, and it is one that involves the body, that implicates the body, and that invites the body into the art work being produced. Dis Arts can be an intensely political art – one that speaks to inaccessibility, a history of being Othered, the power of community, and the possibility of change.