The Choreographer Fighting Gender Inequality Through Dance

The Choreographer Fighting Gender Inequality Through Dance

Eleonora Fae fled Malta to pursue her American dream, but not without paying homage the battles its women face.

NEW YORK CITY – There is no place more famous than New York City to chase down a dream, but for Eleonora Fae, immigrating from Malta went beyond the thrills of self-fulfillment and addressed her basic human rights.

“There, women feel oppressed,” said the contemporary choreographer and dancer of a small nation with historic violence against women, most recently under fire for the car-bombing of Maltese journalist and political activist, Daphne Caruana Galizia, in 2017. Though it is where Eleonora spent her childhood, she is careful to not call Malta home or say something that could attach her to one country; too many times has she seen ignorance and xenophobia stem from nationalistic ideology.

While the U.S. is no stranger to gender inequality when it comes to pay and reproductive rights, it offers a unique agency to women facing pressure to conform to a routine wife and mother act back home. “I came because of the amount of order there is,” she said, referring to human rights laws, systems, and processes, “and the freedom to be whoever you are.”

Now two years later, undeterred by America’s own set of political misshapes and loud efforts by anti-feminists, Eleonora has her own response to systemic repression in the form of contemporary dance.

Dejk♁, a derivative of dik or the Maltese word for “that” when used with feminine objects and a widely used derogatory term for women, is the name of her next big project. (Dejk♁ changed from D.I.K♁ after venues requested a more family-friendly option.) Together with friend and Italian composer, Marco Caricola, they will combine dance, narrative, music and audio, film, and fashion into a multidisciplinary production dedicated to female empowerment, featuring an all-male identifying cast.

“Men usually direct women,” she told me, an obvious truth in business and medicine, but less so in the arts. “Has there ever been a company of all-male dancers directed by a woman? I want to know that men can work with women in this way,” Eleonora explained.

Image by Jay Patel. Dancers: Monet Jones, Dena Vayas, Amanda Guas, Angelys Perez Casco

Eleonora began dancing when she was two years old. Born to a lyricist father, she grew up in a home that encouraged self-expression, a value that would lead her to choose contemporary dance over other forms. “It’s a clear expression of voice ,” she said looking across to the Lincoln Center, a venue she has performed at several times and one day hopes to showcase Dejk♁.  “Take classical ballet. It’s stylized and has a linear narrative. There’s only so much you can do to keep it within ballet. Once you add in your own moves, it becomes something different. With contemporary, it’s completely unique.” Dejk♁ will take one step further into the genre of dance theater, which allows for dialogue and voice.

Running fourteen minutes long and featuring fourteen men of various backgrounds and ages, Dejk♁ is an ode to the 14 Stations of the Cross, a Catholic devotion commemorating Jesus Christ’s last days on Earth.

Malta is a pious country with an overwhelming Roman Catholic population and packed with 365 churches, more than one church per square kilometer. To frame Maltese gender inequality through a religious lens was a natural choice for Eleonora, who herself felt pressure growing up to abide by a faith-based lifestyle.

Each minute of the dance, which corresponds to a Station of the Cross, unravels a woman’s story taken from family, friends, and peers. The cross symbolizes man and Jesus Christ symbolizes woman, weighed down by patriarchal obligations at the mercy of men.

In one story, a beautiful woman is wrongfully exiled from her village in Malta after jealous wives accuse her of sleeping with their husbands. Fabricated stories tarnish the woman’s reputation until the Church and those in her community observe her in disdainful silence. Later, a group of neighbors beat and strip her of her clothing, forcing her to leave her home in shame, a parallel to the Tenth Station in which Roman soldiers strip Jesus of his garments.

 Another story describes a young woman suffering from life-threatening injuries after a car accident. When a group of nosey nurses working in the hospital spread false rumors that she has irreversible head trauma, her community demotes her to an “insane dik with mental illness.” Like the innocent adulteress who failed to maintain her integrity, the young woman falls victim to diminishing labels long associated with gender–promiscuous, home-wrecking, and unstable–a submission of identity and death-of-self analogous to the Eleventh Station, Jesus’ nailing to the cross.

“The Eleventh Station reminds me that ugly words can destroy a person’s life,” said Eleonora, “and sometimes it is women who are both the perpetrator and the victim.” Slander is an unforgiving weapon. She recalls in small Catholic communities in Malta instances when the Church was able to excuse sins, but its people never forgot.

In addition to the Stations of the Cross, the number fourteen is symbolic of Valentine’s Day, February 14th, a widespread celebration of love she believes more poignantly recognizes hate. According to legend, when Emperor Claudius II outlawed marriage in an effort to save young, single men for war in third-century Rome, a priest named Valentine, unyielding to the new decree, continued to marry young lovers in secret. For his defiance, executioners punished him by death.

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As a classically trained dancer, Eleonora enjoys teaching the younger generation; however, as a choreographer, she prides herself on having an eye for natural movement. After years of studying gait and body language, she has learned that women and men dance from different places.

“Women dance out of feelings of containment and a constant search for inner peace,” she said, a result of objectification by male directors. “Men don’t succumb to the same pressures.” Women choreographers, too, must forge their paths in the dance world whereas a man often has a paved path precede him.

When the latter happens, Eleonora says male choreographers tend to adapt from other male choreographers, adhering to the styles expected from a dance company that lean on popular trends and a women’s figure to appeal to male gaze. In the meantime, women who want to succeed must direct from the heart and follow their instincts, impervious to certain push-back.

Dejk♁’s choreography is inspired by a juxtaposition of religious, folkloric movements and the wholly unordained dance moves of drunk partygoers, a tired sight for Eleonora, who used to bartend in a club. “Religion and partying are the two most prominent cultures in Malta,” she said. “The club scene is the new religion.” Dejk♁’s score, too, incorporates a mash-up of old and new: Maltese hymns, prayers, children’s rhymes, and house music.

“Women tend to dance out of feelings of containment and a constant search for inner peace, whereas men are more aesthetic.”

Select dancers will wear a variation of the Maltese għonnella, sometimes referred to as a faldetta, a women’s head dress, or hooded cloak, distinctive to Malta and its sister island, Gozo. Typically black or another dark color, wealthier women began wearing ones in light colors or white in the sixteenth century and onward. The għonnella showcased in Dejk♁ is a vibrant red and made from sustainable materials, a modern take on one of Malta’s most traditional garments.

The layered symbolism in Dejk♁ is not something Eleonora expects everyone to pick up on immediately or at all–and that’s okay. “Dejk♁ might mean a lot to some and nothing to others. “People are great at seeking their own truth within art, so I will leave it to the audience to interpret.” It is a sentiment true to her message that the artist in each of us should feel unrestrained.

Combining ancient Maltese themes with the innovation of contemporary dance is a challenge Eleonora has wanted to tackle for awhile. When asked how long ago she conceived the idea, she said “maybe forever.” It is a passion project synonymous with equality, a status quo all parts of the world strive to achieve, but no country has triumphed yet. “If we understand that we are more alike than unalike, boundaries created by gender, religion, sexual orientation, age, immigration status, and race are easier to defeat,” she said.

Image by David Soria

Due to Covid-19 disruptions, Dejk♁ postponed its premiere from June 2020 to March 2021, where it will kick-off in Malta before continuing on to Bari, Italy and finally New York City in June 2021.

Eleonora and Marco had planned to visit Malta this summer to research and collect local sounds to use in their score–murmurs of a crowded church or social gathering. Now, Instagram is their vehicle for sound research. They hope to gather the right data from a distance.

Eleonora will continue to develop her distinct dance style and curriculum to give the Maltese community a voice within the American performing arts scene and worldwide. “There is no religious feast unaccompanied by Western conventions,” she distilled, making the insurmountable diversity and opportunity in New York City ideal grounds for exposing Maltese heritage. “The decision to start my journey here was a no-brainer.”