Viewing Nelisiwe Xaba’s Fremde Tänze (2014) in Berlin and Chicago revealed differing levels of meaning in the work. In Berlin the work exposed and parodied the white gaze of the black female dancer, while in Chicago the work vivified the gap between the responses of black and white spectators. The reception of Fremde Tänze in the two cities demonstrates the workings of “cross-viewing,” the moments when spectators from distinct social locations watch one another watching.

Nelisiwe Xaba has spent her career creating and touring works between South Africa and the Global North. Signature elements of her work include small-scale formats (solos, duets, trios), the use of objects that blur the distinction between costume and set, the repurposing of everyday materials, and the deliberate play with the performer’s and spectators’ gaze. In this cluster of articles writers based in South Africa, Germany, and the US explore how her works take on different meanings for different spectators in different cultural contexts.

Extensive research memos written for choreographer Reggie Wilson informed the making of Moses(es) . The excerpts here encompass such topics as writer and folklorist Zora Neale Hurston, Wilson’s relationship with his early mentor Ohad Naharin, anthropological literature on the possession ritual Zar, and Nubia as a crossroads in Africa.

Reggie Wilson talks with Susan Manning about growing up in Milwaukee, moving to New York to study at Tisch/NYU’s dance department, and developing his signature choreographic approach amidst the flourishing of black and white postmodernisms in the 1980s and 1990s.

The significance of Reggie Wilson’s research-to-performance method within the canons of American dance arises from the way his distinctive approach confounds critical categories, blurring the divide between Black Dance and black postmodernism. Is his work too postmodernist for advocates of Black Dance and too Black for advocates of postmodernism?

Reggie Wilson’s creative process in making Moses(es) is charted from the perspective of the dramaturg: his research into seemingly disparate topics, which became surprisingly interrelated over time; his use of found movement in the studio; and his refusal to tell spectators how to interpret his dance.