What can I say? The performance to me felt like a confession, a diary entry, a cry for
help, a cry for joy, a celebration, but mostly, it felt like a whisper.

“Becoming Tree” was one of those performances that warms the mind and the heart. It
played its part as its own reflection and review of the voices and stories around the
exhibition “When We See Us”. It felt personal and individual but at the same time
aligned with the stories of so many others.

I don’t know where to begin, maybe it’s already begun. Let me scatter my thoughts.

The Greeting
I’ll use the term stage lightly here as Houndekindo moves through the different rooms
within the 5-floor exhibition. Greeting the audience with a see-through handbag and a
soft-spoken demeanor. Almost as if he immediately appeased the predominantly white
audiences. A thing many European non-white performers are accustomed to doing.

The Family
Houndekindo left pictures of his parents in every room of the exhibition. As if to travel
back in time and answer the question “What would life have been had my parents never
emigrated?” As an audience and immigrant myself, I didn’t feel the need to look deeper
into the pictures but the sentiment was internalized and understood, it resonated with
my own experiences which automatically makes the performance relatable.

The Stomping
Houndekindo proceeds to step in place, almost as if he is hiking, walking through
several roads, both literally and figuratively. Further enhancing the idea of walking back
in time. This was accompanied by chanting words like “chore, labor, work” which was a
direct reflection of the paintings in the room that reflected every life in many parts of
Africa.

Transformation into the “exotic”
As the performance tour progresses, the audience are led into tight dark corridors as
Houndekindo guides the theme into spirituality. Overarching themes of non-Western
systems of beliefs and mythologies came to play, Houndekindo briefly plays the role of
“monster”-esque figure getting close to the audience with a more decisive eye contact
than before. This broke a wall between the performer and the audience which both
humanized the performer whilst exposing audiences to their own ignorance.

When we see us.. I feel.. I see
In a very melancholic way, Houndekindo repeats the aforementioned sentence followed
by several ways of finishing the sentence. As if he talks to the universe as an open
forum of years of internal dialogues and conversations about blackness. For him and for
the artists featured in the exhibition.
Here I experienced the pride as well as the angst of how many struggle to find pride in
their own identities. But when the pride is found, it becomes almost invincible and as
permanent as dry paint on a stubborn wall.

Back to square one!
In the final segments of the performance, Houndekindo takes us to the part of the
exhibition which speaks on triumph, pride, and victory. He chooses to stop at a painting
which features female African warriors. We concluded the walk in the room which talks
about sensuality, bodies, and sex.
Here Houndekindo assumes positions as he recites a monologue speaking on the black
male body. With very few words he managed to show in movement how he has
reflected over the several confessions in the room.

Thank you; come again.
Houndekindo ended the performance in a dark corridor where he welcomed the
audience again, now as more of an usher than a performer. Pedagogically and politely
sending people off.
-end-

This to me, fences over the thin line between appeasement and diplomacy. I’ve gone
over many possible scenarios where I think the performance would have varied
massively.
I thought to myself..

          a. How would Freddy have performed for a full black audience?
          b. What were the challenges of getting a task to relate to the exhibition while
              pushing for your own artistry?
          c. Is the use of contemporary dance practice antithetical to the themes of
              homecoming?

So many questions out of my sheer ignorance and curiosity. As someone who can
adjacently relate to the themes of the exhibition and the performer himself, I am left with
a buffet of thoughts to bring home. It made me look at the exhibition a second time, now
guided by the memory of Houndekindo's own reflections. I was perplexed and grateful
for the experience.

BY MARVIL IGLESIAS

BIO:

”You are unique but you are not special”

Marvil Iglesias is a Stockholm-based dancer/choreographer with roots in multiple ”street” dance subcultures. Heavily inspired by his upbringing in 4 different countries as well as mundane daily phenomena.