Shamar Watt: “Summon” Review

On Sunday, September 24, 2023, I attended “Summon” at the Sandrell Rivers Theater in Miami. This production was presented by Live Arts Miami, Third Horizon, and Diaspora Vibe Cultural Arts Incubator and featured Jamaican-American Shamar Watt’s latest evocative and cosmic work. “Summon” is a multi-disciplinary work that incorporates cinema, live performance (music and dance), and spoken word to “investigate the spirit of resistance embodied by the Maroon people of Jamaica…” (https://liveartsmiami.org/events/summon/) and in true fashion summons spiritual, physical, sensual/sexual energy. Watt’s authentic expression of Jamaican identity and culture, as well as his unbounded interpretation, understanding, and presentation of Blackness was transparent. The dancers exemplified a plethora of identities, traversing between power, rage, anger, control, support, protection, and dominance.

When I arrived at the theater, I was informed that the show was starting at 3:15pm, it was interactive, a short film would be shown, and that I would be standing for 90 minutes (the gag hunny!). I was grateful that I wore my black thong sandals—cute and comfortable baby. As we waited for the show to begin, the eargasm was fiyah; Afrobeat riddims were on lock, priming us for the experience. When we entered the theater space, we were transported to the lush forests and mountains of Jamaica. Palm trees lined the space. The darkness of the room and the warm lighting transposed us to da bush.

The film, directed by “Jamaican based filmmaker Nile Saulter,” beautifully captured the essence of both Watt’s Jamaican ancestry as well as the rawness of Maroon life. The audience is immediately drawn into the image of a man with chocolate skin, thin gait, and locks tied high up on his head running bareback through the thick, luscious green foliage. Next, we see images of Watt reconnecting with his family, their dialogue captures the sense of home, return, and belonging. The images of him observing the daily rituals of the community which included peeling sweet potatoes, chopping meat, and singing and dancing were rich.

Watt and the Maroon man connect at the river; there is transfer of energy and spirit that sends Watt into a movement episode in da bush. Watt Krumps; his body expands and contracts, arms fling high and wide while his head shifts side to side. He gets grounded. His knees lift to his chest. Hips shift to the side while arms rise. The back spirals, replicating a warrior dance of his ancestors. Some of the movement is blurred from the lighting and fog, and the timing of the movement shifts from slow motion to time-lapse. The audience is mesmerized.

After the film ended, we were escorted to the other side of the theater. As my eyes adjusted to the lighting, I tried to figure out the best place to “stand.” The lighting design was impeccable. Laser beams in white, green, and red pierced the space from north, south, east, and west, permeating the area with textured patterns on the floor and scenery. As the lights got brighter, you could see the people clearer, the floor designs, and Austin Williamson’s musical set up. His drum set was surrounded by symbols hanging from the ceiling, creating a circle that illustrates a sense of protection. This visual was captivating, reminiscent of Jason deCaires Taylor’s underwater sculpture titled “Vicissitudes” (https://www.aaihs.org/from-the-ocean-floor-death-memory-and-the-atlantic-slave-trade/) that stands off the coast of Grenada and features 26 children holding hands in a circle.

The lights dim to almost blackness with nothing more than a white light illuminating the space. The sound scape consists of stomping, rattling, and cymbals chiming. Watt and the other Maroons enter the space through da bush crushing the earth, emanating power. They slipped through the space as if escaping through the forest in the darkest of nights. The trees were shaking, speaking, responding to their energy.

The next visual is a blue light that cuts across the space, the instruments are illuminated creating various fluorescent colors. Watt is stationed at his area, a sound system of some kind; he assumes the role of “selector.” Watt is on the mic chattin’ to the patrons. In a deep breathy voice, he states “…against the dying of the light, don’t go gentle into the good night…rage at the close of day. Rage. Rage…” As he ends his sermon, the lights rise fully, and we can see Williamson. He is in his musical sphere walking around, touching each dangling cymbal conjuring up the spirits through sound. This goes on for a while building in tone, texture, volume, and instrumentation.

Throughout the work, Watt speaks in between di riddims, movement, lighting, energy, and spiritual awakenings offering insight, instruction, and warnings. Focusing in on his text, I manage to decipher several lines such as: “what happens to the Black body inside the gravitational pull?” references to Ezekiel 37:1-14 and his vision of Dry Bones asking, “can these dry bones live,” “The Black Republic of Jamaica,” and “You wanna be free?” There is so much to unpack with this performance.

The work features movement aesthetics in Krumping and various African Diasporic forms. Through the masterful lighting design of Apon Nichols, a Rave vibe and Maroon journey was created. The ensemble is amazing! Their connectivity and masculine and feminine power is undeniable. Each dancer brings a sense of ferocity and intentionality to the work, grounding it as an Afro Futuristic expression of “The Black Republic of Jamaica” (Watt 2023).

This was a sensory experience, stimulating the eyes, ears, and skin. The trees shook and rubbed against your arms, head, and back. You could also feel the dancers as they entered and exited the portals through da bush. I felt and heard their breath. I saw them shaking and convulsing.
Their gestures acknowledged the sun, moon, and stars; they were looking and searching for something or someone.

Watt’s solo was full bodied and richly expressive. The stomping was giving South African Gum Boots vibes. His footwork and hip action have Senegalese Sabar and Jamaican Kumina references and the curvilinear movement was reminiscent of traditional Rwandan dance. Watt executed a full 360 promenade with his leg in various arabesque positions while he contorted his torso off-center. It was giving strength, techNIQUE, and virtuosity.

A profound element of the work featured Valerie Davis, Watt’s mother who enters in a white dress with flute sleeves, white heels, and pearls. Her body is illuminated, creating an angelic cascade around her essence. Her head is covered with a Tallit (prayer shawl). She quotes Psalm 100, “Serve the Lord with gladness…” while walking through the audience. As if choreographed, the crowd opens a pathway for the woman of God. She continues her invocation with Psalm 91, “I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Him will I trust…” She walks towards the light positioning herself next to Watts offering a prayer for the community. What an exaltation. She reminds me of a Caribbean mother praying over her family during her daily devotions.

During the section when Watt’s vest/armor descends from the heavens and is placed on his body, which reminds me of James Brown and his infamous cape routine. As this goes on, I observe a white male becoming entranced. His eyes were affixed on the cypher while his body rocked forward and backward. It appeared that he wanted to enter the cypher (uninvited). The second observation involved a Black female who systematically maneuvered herself closer and closer to Watt. Her body undulated while her hips swayed side to side. She rotated her pelvis in a slow wine as she turned her head coyly smiling toward him as his bare torso was exposed showcasing his Adonis belt. Both audience members expressed intersections of sensuality, sexuality, and spirituality.

The piece ends with a cypher. Watt chants, “You’ve got to move Miami” which opened the space, serving as an invitation for people to enter the floor. Several audience members accepted the invitation and danced in the cypher. It was a multigenerational affair. This is a FANTASTIC production! See, support, and write about the work!