We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Nteranya Sanginga a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Nteranya thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Can you talk to us about how you learned to do what you do?
As a Congolese, dancing and music is a big a part of many of the communities I grew up in and especially when socialising. As a kid, if there were two or more families together, someone would start to play music and dancing would soon follow. I think I would I have had two left feet if not for my older brother Neil who I looked up to and because he as young teenager used to know all the dances to Ndombolo, Rumba, and Dancehall songs, I basically did my best imitation of him and that’s how dancing came about. In some aspects dancing in Congolese social circles had three qualities to it that I had to learn. Most of the time the dancing happened in a big circle, and the first quality in dancing (outside of Congolese Rumba) was being able to see a movement or movement transition from another person and replicate it before the count was done. Many songs played in social settings had specific dances – the western world would understand this as choreography – that went with different parts of a song. The second quality can be best described as a ‘call-and-response’ dynamic, where at different points in a song you would interact with others on the dancefloor and the way in which you did a move either challenged a person, invited them to join, or made them laugh as they responded with their own move. For this second quality of dancing in social circles, I had to learn about making movement my own. Adding my personality to add a particular quality to the dance that would make it look similar or different to the person next to me. I’ll draw back to this specific quality later.
More formally, after years of learning dance through YouTube videos for school performances, Congolese social gatherings, and friends in high school, I joined the dance department at Macalester College where my mentor Sister Patricia Brown (Brown Spirit Dance | African & Afro-Descendant Based Movement) pushed me and in the community she fostered. Through her and her guidance I was able to also then train with the likes of Djenane St Juste and Mama Fofo Pierre (Afoutayi Dance Company | Haitian), Korma Aguh-Struckmayer (Afrocontigbo | Afro-Contemporary & West African Traditional Dance), Leanna Browne (Umfundalai), Karen Charles (Thread Dance Project| ), Wynn Fricke (Contemporary, Choreography, and Modern), DejaJoelle (BLAQ | Black Liberation Dance), and Leslie Parker (Leslie Parker Dance Project).
In terms of writing creatively, I first had to learn how to write creatively in order to make it through the British English course curriculum which had aspect of reading comprehension, creative writing, and essay writing. The entourage I had around me from Grade 6 onwards was a group that at the time – and some to this day – wanted to excel academically in all areas that we were told “mattered”. But, writing creatively for the sake of creativity didn’t kick in as a serious thing until high school when I was taught by Mrs Kimutai. In a writing project I am working now best explains how I learned about the writing I do today which centres on the communities I have from in both the story and audience focus.
“As one of our first assignments in her class, Mrs Kimutai asked us to write a short story within Cambridge’s 250 to 350-word style. The prompt had something to do with an apple. Roughly 95% of us wrote about a story based in communities we had never been in. I wrote about snow, brunettes, blonds, and blue eyes. In response, Mrs. Kimutai gave many of us 2 out of 25 as our grades. The highest may have been a 7 out of 25, but the red pen she used only left panic in my mind. Dad was going to be mad, and I had no clue of how to explain what I did wrong to get this grade, or how I intended to improve to make sure it never happened again. That was until Mrs Kimutai explained that there is nothing wrong with telling stories about snow and blue-eyed people, but because we lack that experience the stories we write are predictable and, in some aspects, overdone. Yet, we all have backgrounds and experiences that could write so many stories.”
From this point writing became more intentional towards creating stories about the communities that made me and continue to do so. Learning to improve my writing came in three parts. The first was reading other writers and creatives particularly from within the Afro-descendant community across the world and learning tools from them. Some of the names that come to mind are Chebet Kuntai, Bernie Mshana, Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi, Ayobami Adebayo, Lorraine Hansberry, Henri Lopes, Chinweizu (Voices from Twentieth Century Africa: Griots and Towncriers), Marlon James, and Chinua Achebe’s A Man of the People, among many other writers. Second, was just practicing and writing as frequently as possible and finding a discipline rhythm (this I struggled with until the third thing came into play). Third, was finding people who wanted to grow in their own writing and who were open to taking that journey with me through consistent writing sessions or sessions to review writings. People like Atlese Robinson, Tshimundu (William Zamundu),Neneta, and Iminza, among several others.
Knowing what I know now, there are a couple of things that could have sped up my process in my creativity. The first is trusting in my desire to be creative and committing to it. There were a number of times that I had a hot and cold moment with creativity and nearly abandoned it for things that were more promising. In line with that, there was also the need to learn to be headstrong in my dedication to the creative sector even when loved ones may not or will not be particularly supportive or in favour of it. One thing that helped me get deeper into my creative work was finding creatives dedicated to the craft in a way that inspired and motivated me to be committed to mine. Equally people, who I felt had the best interest for my craft and for me, who respected my boundaries, and vice versa. Finding people like this earlier may have sped up my learning and also pushed me to commit against some of the discouragement – which was perhaps the greatest challenge.
I don’t think there are defined skillsets that were the key to my creative progress. I think there are certain qualities I had to learn and others I had to nurture. The qualities I had to learn with regards to my creating were discipline, consistency, stamina, a whole load of patience, flexibility and adaptability, and subsequently firmness. This last one, firmness, was in terms of learning to stand my ground in certain situations. Qualities that I had to further nurture were aspects like the personalisation of movement. Learning that movement has particular qualities that must be honoured and respected, and at the same time finding how does that movement maintain its core in my body without compromising my body. Essentially, translating the movement into a language that weaves in well with my body and still communicates the same message to observers, audiences, and other collaborators. At first, I used to think that once I step into the dance rehearsal space, or into a writing session, I must leave my own self at the door. However, I have learned that coming through that ‘door’, I have to enter with my entire self and acknowledge what I am carrying in order to be able to honestly enter into the work. Entering the work included being able to do the work that isn’t movement, building relationship, contributing to sustaining community, and having healthy connections because I found spaces that held this always led to a work and learning process that stretched and grew me enormously.
Nteranya , before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
Alright, here goes:
Nteranya Ginga, also known as Uncle Ginga, is a Congolese artist pursuing a creative journey that fosters community and respect particularly across Afro-descendant communities. As such, my creative work prioritises and centres on Afro-descendant experiences and communities first and foremost. Yet it is important to note it is not a limit to and of my work. Most of my creative work involves movement and writing primarily, and hopes to contribute to fostering stronger connections in the communities I works in. I enjoy working on projects that take on the challenge of engage with deep questions within communities, and exploring innovative ways of translating that into work. I also love to work on group or one-on-one projects that foster input in the creation process from all parties.
Some of my movement performances include Sister Patricia Brown’s Brown Spirit’s Dance works Ancient Gathering Tree (2015), Stimela (2016), Bound to Freedom (2018); Afoutayi’s Konesans (2017 & 2018); Leslie Parker’s crystal, smoke n’ spirit(s) (2019) for the Momentum New Dance Works Festival; Wynn Fricke’s Just Her Time (2017); Darrius Strong’s Chain of Command (2017); and Threads Dance Project’s Tapestries 4.0 (2019).
Some of my written work includes Germaine – a collaboration with Iminza for her album Roots X Wings; Film reviews of Nollywood films 93 Days, and Diamonds in the Sky for Gavi the Vaccine Alliance; and From Birthing Waters (Forthcoming).
Through this creative journey I have learned from Patricia Brown (Brown Spirit Dance), Djenane Saint-Juste and Mama Fofo Pierre (Afoutayi Haitian Dance, Arts and Music Company), Korma Aguh-Struckmayer (Afrocontigbo Dance Company), Dubie Toa-Kwapong, Nana Grace Kwapong, Salima Seale, Leanna Browne (Umfundalai), Wynn Fricke, Leslie Parker, Karen Charles & Threads Dance Project, Darrius Strong, and Brian J. Evans.
I have also collaborated with artists such as Tshimundu, Atlese Robinson, Neneta, Mel Khupe, Won Young Mbengeni, Jelani Munroe, John Pougué Biyong, David Gyampo, the Youth Theatre of Kenya, Malvika Shankar, Mary Mailand, Toan Down, Midori Hasegawa, Benji Cooper, Catriona Leckie, Molly Stark-Ragsdale.
Of course I have to say this loud and proud, I am an alum member of Afrocontigbo, Afoutayi, and Brown Spirit Dance.
With all this said, I also continues to nurture my creative craft to be able to achieve two personal goals. To be able to infuse memories, histories, truths from Afro-descendant communities in a way that stores these experience in the creative work as an archive for future generations to reference. To be able to use the creative mediums as a reconciliation and reintegration tool in Afro-descendant communities particularly those that have experienced deep loss, violence, conflict, war, and trauma. A healing and joyful experience.
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
This is a difficult question to answer because it really depends on what the creative work or project is.
For example if I am teaching dance or movement, it’s simply watching the person or people I am teaching grow in that movement. Seeing them take on the movement and watching as it build a new confidence in them.
As a performer, it is usually four things. First and foremost, it’s the learning process. Being able to learn movement, seeing how my body understands it, and how I get to better understand my body including my mind as it gets stretched to new limits in the movement. Second, is being able to be a vessel that bring someone’s else creative work to life and enables for the messages and concepts they want to pass on to be passed on. Third is the relationships that get formed in such spaces. There are some deep friendships and artistic understandings that have been formed that have been rewarding in more than just creating future opportunities. Three such people who emulate this third point for me are Djenane, Korma, and Leanna. Lastly, it what the work is able to stir in me, other collaborators, and observers/audiences. This can be quite powerful.
As a writer, it is probably three things that I find quite rewarding. Seeing a reader find themselves in my work and learning of their own interpretations from the work. I hold one understanding of the work I create, and for the most part I don’t correct others interpretations unless its dangerous or too far off. What I have been able to learn from others about my own work has been tremendously helpful. There are times when there are underlying messages in some of my work, and when they are found its an unexplainable feeling. Yet at the same time it’s how many things I can fit into my work that could go without being noticed and knowing that in some ways only specific people would be able to access that information. By this I mean, personal history, events, and concepts that chosen family in the future can be reminded of by reading through my work, thus making it another archive for me and them.
On a less serious note – and to be completely honest – with writing, it can sometimes be the ability to final put the pen down (still a write by hand person) and exhale knowing that a story, an idea, concept is no longer the only thing my mind can focus on. The exhale, and the sleep after this is quite filling.
At the core as an artist, it is really the discussions I get to witness with people who interact with my work. Seeing the discussion it brings up, the interpretations that people draw from it, and perhaps the questions it leaves them reflecting on about their own lives. In some ways it influences some of the choices I make about the work I want to do. If someone can interact with my work and leave blank brained and move on without giving a thought to it and more precisely weaving some of the things they observed into their own life, that sets me back.
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.
Sometimes clarity comes by going through the process than by looking at it. I say this because sometimes non-creatives may look at what is supposed to be the creative process and discourage creatives from going through, or they themselves do not invest in seeing what might be the outcome. A friend of mine when we were in high school, Chebet Kuntai, did a project where she once spoke of different things she would want to do such as making a chocolate factory, being an artist, empowering and collaborating with other women. All disjointed and separate points until her conclusion showed us where she would end up. And how, by connecting the dots backwards, all the things she had done or is currently doing would lead to it. In some ways the creative journey can have an aspect of joining dots backwards. Would I have believed someone if they told me that teaching African Mums dance with Korma on early winter mornings in Minnesota would have made me a better performer and equally shape my writing? No. But did it do it? Most definitely.
There are number of things that non-creatives may not understand or will struggle to understand, but I have found that some times there is a chance to better grasp it if my non-creative community comes through a channel of inquiry and openness. Ask questions and make less statements. And when asking those questions, be prepared to receive the answer – often answers I have given have been immediately rebutted instead of being understood.
There is risk in the industry, and perhaps unlike some other industries – where oftentimes the formula to being stable and subsequently successful has a straightforward formula – the creative industry does not have a particular formula. Yet, the same things that non-creatives may need to progress and succeed, I find that I need as a creative as well. These are discipline, dedication, practice, relationships, goals, support, constructive feedback, and encouragement. It does a great deal for me, even when things may not be clear to a non-creative for them to come, be present, and see my work. It does even more when they come and discuss it with me to better understand what the work was about without belittling it or disrespecting the value of the work.
Many creatives, including myself, do this work out of the passion and love for it and the impact we want our creative work to have, which is what has driven me through. The creative journey is not linear, but so are road trips and traveling. Before I started dancing with Sister Patricia Brown, my creative expression was mostly geared towards theatre, yet for a good 3.5 years I did not do any work related to theatre. Similarly, there was a period for about a year that I stopped dance training, and delved deeply into writing. These transitions, these chapters, these experience can happen in a creatives life. It doesn’t mean that they are distracted, lack consistency, or not committed to the work. And this returns to the point about inquiry, which can shed more light on where a creative is at in their journey.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nteranya-arnold-sanginga/
- Instagram: instagram.com/ginga_na/
- Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/people/Nteranya-Ginga/100028462931722/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nteranya-arnold-sanginga/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@nteranyaginga1022
- Other: – Link to the song Germaine: https://open.spotify.com/track/2RJGPgYnonhB4UHrdaLjZF – Review Articles with Gavi the Vaccine Alliance: https://www.gavi.org/vaccineswork/authors/nteranya-sanginga
Image Credits
Sarah Delgado (2018)