Learning languages has therefore always meant more than just
mastering grammar or vocabulary for me. It’s about stepping into different
perspectives, immersing yourself in new worlds, and cultivating a flexible mind
that can switch between cultures as easily as performers leap between apparatus.
This idea of linguistic agility was further sparked by a gift from a colleague
recently: Through The Language Glass: Why The World Looks Different Through Other Languages by Guy Deutscher. The book delves
into the fascinating ways that language shapes thought and how our worldviews
are reflected in the words we use. It’s an exploration of the dance between
language and culture, reminding me again of how the work of a linguist is, in
its own way, an art form — much like circus, where we play with boundaries and
invite others to see the world anew.
Recently, I took up Arabic on Duolingo, in part to offer me
an alternative dopamine hit to Instagram when I need a break, but also for the love of it, and to move outside my comfort zone linguistically. I’m always banging on to my
students about the rich heritage embedded in Spanish, a language deeply influenced
by the cultural exchange during the convivencia of medieval Spain, a
time of coexistence between Christian, Jewish, and Muslim communities*. The
Arabic legacy can be found in words like alfombra (carpet), alcalde
(mayor), or even the wishful "¡ojalá!" (may it be so! if God wills it!), which
are reminders of this intertwined history, even if the latter phrase in Spanish no longer carries any of the original religious connotations of "inshallah", it still expresses the same
sense of hopeful longing. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I
know, and how much there is to explore.
Speaking of exploration, I know it’s short notice, but if
you can, check out Natalie Inside Out, tonight at Jacksons Lane.
Natalie Reckert, a world-class hand-balancer, teams up with digital artist Mark
Morreau to breach the fourth wall digitally by merging acrobatics with
immersive video projections. The performance promises to be both playful and
challenging of the boundaries, as well as exploring self-image in today’s
image-driven world. By combining the raw physicality of circus with
videography’s ability to manipulate and amplify, they uncover hidden details —
like the subtle creases in her hand carrying a handstand or the thoughts
running through Natalie’s mind as she executes a move, blending humour, poetry,
and digital art to create a shared experience with the audience.
Coincidentally, today I came across a post on Instagram by
Israeli-born artist and photographer Ben Hopper that echoed this idea of the
interplay between camera film (if not digital) and performance. I have followed
Hopper for years, after the installation of portraits of circus artists that
was shown and the Roundhouse, he’s a great photographer with an ever curious mind….
and in his latest project Making Art with the Enemy, he collaborates
with artists from countries that have severed diplomatic ties with Israel. Much
like Reckert and Morreau’s exploration of performance and technology, Hopper’s
work seeks to challenge and bridge divides. It’s a call for coexistence and reminds
me of how art and performance can offer new ways to connect in an increasingly
divided world.
One thing I’ve learned from both circus and language is
that, to paraphrase an old Guinness advert, art reaches parts of us that
nothing else can. I’ve felt this while watching Fauda, a Netflix series
that follows an Israeli undercover security unit. The seamless transitions
between Hebrew and Arabic drew me into the reality of a world full of tension
and complexity, but also brought home how important it is to see multiple
perspectives.
Much like the artists of the Blue Rider, who believed that art could inspire greater understanding and unite people on a spiritual level, I see the work of artists like Natalie Reckert, Mark Morreau, Ben Hopper, and even language itself as a way to move between perspectives. Whether through circus, film, or conversation, these are all performances that invite us to look beyond the surface, much like Kandinsky's abstract works, and find deeper meaning in our shared humanity. May they transform how we connect and understand one another.
¡Ojalá!
www.jacksonslane.org.uk/whats-on/all-performances/ therealbenhopper.com
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