As the summer turns up the heat once again, Monkeyhouse is doing some heating up of our own. Tickets for the 2012 Against the Odds Festival go on sale in just one month from this weekend! Holy cow! That means all engines are running on high as we meet with artists, organize events and of course, build new work. We are thrilled with the way this festival is turning out but we need your help! With over 45 artists already signed up to be part of the festival we have got some serious fundraising to do! Check out our IndieGoGo campaign by clicking the image below to find out how you can help (and all the awesome prizes you can get for lending a hand!)
You want to be part of this amazing festival. Find out more about Against the Odds here!
7/13/12
7/9/12
Add Some Dance to Your Summer!
Here are a couple places you might run into us or some of the other great performers we know in the near future! This is just a small selection of performances available this summer. Visit Jacob's Pillow & Summer Stages for even more Massachusetts performances!
07/09-08/04 -- FELA on Broadway
If you asked us to list our favorite choreographers almost all of us would likely have Bill T. Jones in the top five. Don't miss his amazing show, FELA, as it returns to Broadway for 32 performances only!
07/12-07/14 -- TapTheYard
Join David Parker & Michelle Dorrance as they bring together some of their favorite rhythm makers (including Blogger in Residence Ryan Casey!) during the first tap and rhythm festival at The Yard on Martha's Vineyard.
07/16-07/19 -- Boomtown Festival
Monkeyhouse loves everyone over the the Multicultural Arts Center in Cambridge and we're thrilled that this year Princess Pamplemousse will be dancing it up with the one and only Marty Allen (of Uncle Monsterface AND Sock Puppet Portait fame)
07/25-07/29 -- Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company
Speaking of Bill T., don't miss his company at Jacob's Pillow!
Join
Monkeyhouse supporter, collaborator and long time friend David Wechsler
as he performs at Freddy's Bar and Backroom in Brooklyn! You might
even hear a few songs you recognize!
While you're in Brooklyn, check out Dave's band and fellow Monkeyhouse supporters at Barbes! You don't want to miss this!
Join Karen at the Cultivate Festival in Bethlehem, NH for this exciting movement workshop!
Jason Ries, Nikki Sao Pedro-Welch and a few Monkeyhouse guests will be locked in the Dance Complex overnight to create a new piece as part of Luminarium Dance's new project, 24 Hour Choreo-Fest. Check out what they come up with!
If you like David Parker you're LOVE Doug Elkins. You don't want to miss this fabulous show at Jacob's Pillow!
07/09-08/04 -- FELA on Broadway
If you asked us to list our favorite choreographers almost all of us would likely have Bill T. Jones in the top five. Don't miss his amazing show, FELA, as it returns to Broadway for 32 performances only!
07/12-07/14 -- TapTheYard
Join David Parker & Michelle Dorrance as they bring together some of their favorite rhythm makers (including Blogger in Residence Ryan Casey!) during the first tap and rhythm festival at The Yard on Martha's Vineyard.
07/16-07/19 -- Boomtown Festival Monkeyhouse loves everyone over the the Multicultural Arts Center in Cambridge and we're thrilled that this year Princess Pamplemousse will be dancing it up with the one and only Marty Allen (of Uncle Monsterface AND Sock Puppet Portait fame)
07/25-07/29 -- Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company
Speaking of Bill T., don't miss his company at Jacob's Pillow!
Saturday 07/28 @ 12pm -- David Parker & the Bang Group!
FREE!!
Check out David and all your favorite Bang Group dancers for FREE! Bring the family!
While
you're at the ICA checking out David Parker stick around and see works
by Sean Curran, Mariah Steele, Teresa Fellion, and Annie Kloppenberg!
FREE!!
Check out David and all your favorite Bang Group dancers for FREE! Bring the family!
Join Karen at the Cultivate Festival in Bethlehem, NH for this exciting movement workshop!
Jason Ries, Nikki Sao Pedro-Welch and a few Monkeyhouse guests will be locked in the Dance Complex overnight to create a new piece as part of Luminarium Dance's new project, 24 Hour Choreo-Fest. Check out what they come up with!
Saturday 08/11 @ 7:30 -- Cultivate
Head on up to Bethlehem, NH to see the premier of Caitlin's new solo, Disarmed, performed by Nicole as part of the Cultivate Festival!
Head on up to Bethlehem, NH to see the premier of Caitlin's new solo, Disarmed, performed by Nicole as part of the Cultivate Festival!
If you like David Parker you're LOVE Doug Elkins. You don't want to miss this fabulous show at Jacob's Pillow!
7/4/12
6/26/12
Interpretive Dance: The Challenge of Making Meaning through Movement
“If
the objective an author has had, in writing a book, cannot be discovered from
its perusal, the problem is that it is either very deep, or very shallow.”
– Charles Dickens, in his Preface to Barnaby Rudge (1841)
In last month’s Huffington Post Blog was a terrific post by Columbia College Chicago student Nora Younkin, entitled “What the Heck Is Modern Dance?” Younkin beautifully outlined many reasons why dance is a serious career path and why dancers are simultaneously athletes, artists, educators and scholars whose work has great value in our society, despite being frequently overlooked.
But where I wish to connect the voices of this young student and of the great author Charles Dickens, whom I quoted in my epigraph, is through this paragraph of Younkin’s post:
A great choreographer knows how to use bodies in space to say something or occasionally, nothing at all (a statement in and of itself). Sometimes it would seem audiences are afraid of modern dance because it's not evident what it's about, or what you're supposed to get walking away from it. Let me tell you another secret: that's okay. Sometimes it's boring or sometimes you might downright hate a dance. Even if you love it, the challenge is to figure out why. Maybe on the whole, as a culture, we're so used to being spoon fed meaning that we've lost interest in being challenged by our entertainment. Modern dance is a big invitation for interpretation, and sometimes it requires the audience to take an open-minded leap into the new, unknown, bizarre or abrasive.
I have frequently been one of those audience members who, leaving a modern and/or contemporary dance concert, has felt bewildered. Actually, it was not just when I left – it was during and after many of the numbers I watched. I was confused for most of the concert. I felt like that person at the movies who can’t follow the plot and has to whisper in his friend’s ear every minute, “Who is she, again? …. I thought he was dead. . . . Wait, how did they end up with the secret formula?” (Echoes of Jerry and Elaine talking throughout the movie “Chunnel,” trying to unravel its convoluted plot, on “The Pool Guy” episode of Seinfeld.)
If you're not familiar with the humorous "How to Watch a Modern Dance Concert" video on YouTube, which pokes fun (ironically?) at some of these sentiments, take a look:
As a young artist, I am beginning to experiment myself with art that “says something,” and I fully support dances that attempt to convey particular messages, tackle certain themes, or tell stories. (I even wrote a blog post about my goal for 2012, to take more risks in my life and my art.) I’m also a literature student and aspiring English teacher, after all, and part of my attraction to the novel (and, by extension, art in general) is the way in which it discusses timeless themes and raises uncomfortable questions. Is not the enduring popularity of classic literature indebted partially to the fact that it addresses ideas that yet remain topical?
But I think that there is a clear difference between a work of art that raises serious questions (i.e. Is technology a burden or a blessing to modern society? How are we still challenging or subverting traditional gender roles in 2012?) and a work of art that simply raises confusion (i.e. “What just happened? What was that dance about? What was that naked person rolling around on the floor supposed to represent?”) In other words, I think there is great value in a dance that leaves us thinking about greater ideas or issues. I’m not sure what value there is in art that leaves us confused, lost, and subsequently annoyed or frustrated, ultimately impeding our quest for enlightenment and/or entertainment.
It’s like watching a foreign film without subtitles, or hearing a series of inside jokes. You’re lost, and that feeling prevents you from participating in what’s happening right in front of you, which makes you feel helpless and frustrated. As dancers, we are supposed to entertain. People are paying for us to entertain. If we are frustrating them, I don’t think we’re doing our job properly.
I do think that Younkin is partially right. Audiences are afraid of modern dance – but not because they’re averse to interpretation. On the contrary, I think audiences are perfectly willing to watch dances that ask them to think. But I don’t think they’re willing to watch dances that are unintelligible or inaccessible. There is little fun in being confused – especially when that confusion persists during dance after bizarre dance. Dickens, one of my favorite authors, makes a great point in his preface to his oft-overlooked historical novel Barnaby Rudge that I believe is just as applicable to dancers and choreographers as it is to authors. If the choreographer’s objective (or message/idea/concept/etc.) cannot be determined from watching the dance, then it is either too complicated to understand, or too simple to be recognized seriously. Note that I am not saying that an audience member should be able to completely understand and interpret the piece after seeing it – for what is art, if not a medium through which we can wrestle with question for which there is no one right answer? But if, as a choreographer, you want your audience to think about a question you’re asking or a statement you’re making, then that question or statement needs to be clear – otherwise, your audience isn’t going to think about it. They’re simply going to say, “I don’t get it.” Even worse is when a piece has an artistic statement in the program, but the statement still fails to help elucidate it.
That, to me, is an artistic failure. (And I don’t think it’s fair for the choreographer to say, “You’re not supposed to get it.”) If your intent is to tell a story, to present a message, to explore a theme, you have a responsibility to your audience to convey that story/message/theme in a way that is both entertaining and accessible. People are not likely to be entertained if they are confused; they are likely to be bored and impatient.
An NYU writing professor of mine often reminded my class that it is a frequent misstep of young and/or inexperienced writers to err on the side of subtlety. They know that they cannot make their authorial intent completely transparent or blunt, and that they must be creative and artistic about how they go about exploring it, and so they end up trying so hard not to be obvious that they make it too subtle. Sometimes, what we think is completely literal and stupid is, in fact, just what the reader needs. “Don’t worry about being too obvious,” he said. “I’ll tell you if you are.”
I think choreographers often forget that there is a vast spectrum of creativity to explore between the painfully obvious and the bewilderingly vague. Cheesy musical theatre choreography is an example of the former: the lyrics are interpreted choreographically almost word for word, every phrase with its own accompanying gesture. Younkin’s stereotypical example of modern dance, “I'm a tree! I'm the wind!” *insert wave-like arm gestures*, represents the latter. But there is so much room for creativity that falls in between these two landmarks – and as artists, I think that our fear of falling on one or the other end of the spectrum sometimes keeps us from exploring that room.
There are concerns, as Younkin points out, that commercial dance is indeed spoon-feeding us meaning, that people who are used to watching two-minute routines on So You Think You Can Dance (almost all of which are preceded by the choreographer saying, “This is a routine about two people who … [are falling in love; breaking up; fighting; are meeting for the first time; just lost a loved one; etc.]) will not be able to sit through much longer, more insightful pieces presented in a serious concert setting. Perhaps our desire to see dances that challenge us intellectually is waning in favor of watching simple, structurally/thematically similar routines performed by thin, good-looking dancers performing lots of jumps and leaps and turns. I don’t know.
But I really think that people are more than willing to witness sophisticated dancing as long as we reach out to them and make them active participants in our creations. We have to consider our audience and our venue when we choreograph. To perform for an audience and to make no effort to get them to understand what we are doing, nor to engage them in our movement, nor to provoke them to think actively while they are watching, is just rude and irresponsible. Again, it’s the difficulty of finding that middle ground. A responsible artist does not create a piece of art and then spoon-feed us its meaning – but neither does he create a piece of art and offer no inroads by which we can attempt to uncover and discuss its meaning. We have to create and pave those inroads for our viewers.
If we want audiences to not be afraid of modern dance, to be willing to take the “open-minded leap” that Younkin speaks of, we need to teach/show them how.
– Charles Dickens, in his Preface to Barnaby Rudge (1841)
In last month’s Huffington Post Blog was a terrific post by Columbia College Chicago student Nora Younkin, entitled “What the Heck Is Modern Dance?” Younkin beautifully outlined many reasons why dance is a serious career path and why dancers are simultaneously athletes, artists, educators and scholars whose work has great value in our society, despite being frequently overlooked.
But where I wish to connect the voices of this young student and of the great author Charles Dickens, whom I quoted in my epigraph, is through this paragraph of Younkin’s post:
A great choreographer knows how to use bodies in space to say something or occasionally, nothing at all (a statement in and of itself). Sometimes it would seem audiences are afraid of modern dance because it's not evident what it's about, or what you're supposed to get walking away from it. Let me tell you another secret: that's okay. Sometimes it's boring or sometimes you might downright hate a dance. Even if you love it, the challenge is to figure out why. Maybe on the whole, as a culture, we're so used to being spoon fed meaning that we've lost interest in being challenged by our entertainment. Modern dance is a big invitation for interpretation, and sometimes it requires the audience to take an open-minded leap into the new, unknown, bizarre or abrasive.
I have frequently been one of those audience members who, leaving a modern and/or contemporary dance concert, has felt bewildered. Actually, it was not just when I left – it was during and after many of the numbers I watched. I was confused for most of the concert. I felt like that person at the movies who can’t follow the plot and has to whisper in his friend’s ear every minute, “Who is she, again? …. I thought he was dead. . . . Wait, how did they end up with the secret formula?” (Echoes of Jerry and Elaine talking throughout the movie “Chunnel,” trying to unravel its convoluted plot, on “The Pool Guy” episode of Seinfeld.)
If you're not familiar with the humorous "How to Watch a Modern Dance Concert" video on YouTube, which pokes fun (ironically?) at some of these sentiments, take a look:
As a young artist, I am beginning to experiment myself with art that “says something,” and I fully support dances that attempt to convey particular messages, tackle certain themes, or tell stories. (I even wrote a blog post about my goal for 2012, to take more risks in my life and my art.) I’m also a literature student and aspiring English teacher, after all, and part of my attraction to the novel (and, by extension, art in general) is the way in which it discusses timeless themes and raises uncomfortable questions. Is not the enduring popularity of classic literature indebted partially to the fact that it addresses ideas that yet remain topical?
But I think that there is a clear difference between a work of art that raises serious questions (i.e. Is technology a burden or a blessing to modern society? How are we still challenging or subverting traditional gender roles in 2012?) and a work of art that simply raises confusion (i.e. “What just happened? What was that dance about? What was that naked person rolling around on the floor supposed to represent?”) In other words, I think there is great value in a dance that leaves us thinking about greater ideas or issues. I’m not sure what value there is in art that leaves us confused, lost, and subsequently annoyed or frustrated, ultimately impeding our quest for enlightenment and/or entertainment.
It’s like watching a foreign film without subtitles, or hearing a series of inside jokes. You’re lost, and that feeling prevents you from participating in what’s happening right in front of you, which makes you feel helpless and frustrated. As dancers, we are supposed to entertain. People are paying for us to entertain. If we are frustrating them, I don’t think we’re doing our job properly.
I do think that Younkin is partially right. Audiences are afraid of modern dance – but not because they’re averse to interpretation. On the contrary, I think audiences are perfectly willing to watch dances that ask them to think. But I don’t think they’re willing to watch dances that are unintelligible or inaccessible. There is little fun in being confused – especially when that confusion persists during dance after bizarre dance. Dickens, one of my favorite authors, makes a great point in his preface to his oft-overlooked historical novel Barnaby Rudge that I believe is just as applicable to dancers and choreographers as it is to authors. If the choreographer’s objective (or message/idea/concept/etc.) cannot be determined from watching the dance, then it is either too complicated to understand, or too simple to be recognized seriously. Note that I am not saying that an audience member should be able to completely understand and interpret the piece after seeing it – for what is art, if not a medium through which we can wrestle with question for which there is no one right answer? But if, as a choreographer, you want your audience to think about a question you’re asking or a statement you’re making, then that question or statement needs to be clear – otherwise, your audience isn’t going to think about it. They’re simply going to say, “I don’t get it.” Even worse is when a piece has an artistic statement in the program, but the statement still fails to help elucidate it.
That, to me, is an artistic failure. (And I don’t think it’s fair for the choreographer to say, “You’re not supposed to get it.”) If your intent is to tell a story, to present a message, to explore a theme, you have a responsibility to your audience to convey that story/message/theme in a way that is both entertaining and accessible. People are not likely to be entertained if they are confused; they are likely to be bored and impatient.
An NYU writing professor of mine often reminded my class that it is a frequent misstep of young and/or inexperienced writers to err on the side of subtlety. They know that they cannot make their authorial intent completely transparent or blunt, and that they must be creative and artistic about how they go about exploring it, and so they end up trying so hard not to be obvious that they make it too subtle. Sometimes, what we think is completely literal and stupid is, in fact, just what the reader needs. “Don’t worry about being too obvious,” he said. “I’ll tell you if you are.”
I think choreographers often forget that there is a vast spectrum of creativity to explore between the painfully obvious and the bewilderingly vague. Cheesy musical theatre choreography is an example of the former: the lyrics are interpreted choreographically almost word for word, every phrase with its own accompanying gesture. Younkin’s stereotypical example of modern dance, “I'm a tree! I'm the wind!” *insert wave-like arm gestures*, represents the latter. But there is so much room for creativity that falls in between these two landmarks – and as artists, I think that our fear of falling on one or the other end of the spectrum sometimes keeps us from exploring that room.
There are concerns, as Younkin points out, that commercial dance is indeed spoon-feeding us meaning, that people who are used to watching two-minute routines on So You Think You Can Dance (almost all of which are preceded by the choreographer saying, “This is a routine about two people who … [are falling in love; breaking up; fighting; are meeting for the first time; just lost a loved one; etc.]) will not be able to sit through much longer, more insightful pieces presented in a serious concert setting. Perhaps our desire to see dances that challenge us intellectually is waning in favor of watching simple, structurally/thematically similar routines performed by thin, good-looking dancers performing lots of jumps and leaps and turns. I don’t know.
But I really think that people are more than willing to witness sophisticated dancing as long as we reach out to them and make them active participants in our creations. We have to consider our audience and our venue when we choreograph. To perform for an audience and to make no effort to get them to understand what we are doing, nor to engage them in our movement, nor to provoke them to think actively while they are watching, is just rude and irresponsible. Again, it’s the difficulty of finding that middle ground. A responsible artist does not create a piece of art and then spoon-feed us its meaning – but neither does he create a piece of art and offer no inroads by which we can attempt to uncover and discuss its meaning. We have to create and pave those inroads for our viewers.
If we want audiences to not be afraid of modern dance, to be willing to take the “open-minded leap” that Younkin speaks of, we need to teach/show them how.
6/25/12
Getting to Know: Barbara Duffy
![]() |
| Photographer: Julie Lemberger |
This week, I had the opportunity to
talk to a woman whose company performs one of the most exciting and universal
styles of dance: tap. With her
complicated rhythms, versatility and appreciation for improv, Barbara Duffy is
spreading the word about tap one shuffle at a time.
REMY: What do you love about tap?
BARBARA: Well I think for me it’s that I’m a dancer but I’m also a musician so I feel like I can use tap to
make music also, besides just being a dancer. That's one reason why I love tap. And I love that you can communicate with people. I've
visited 20 countries and I’ve had to teach classes where people
don’t really speak English. Many times I've
had to communicate with just rhythm.
Rhythm is universal and it connects all people, it really does. It’s amazing, I can go to anywhere and
communicate rhythmically because we all feel rhythm. I think that’s why I really like tap.
REMY: That’s so cool, I’ve never thought of it that way but I
really like that. Something in
particular that I noticed while studying your work is that you use both
choreography and improvisation. I
found this so interesting, and was wondering if you could talk about how you
use improvisation and how it affects your work?
BARBARA: Well,
for the work that I’ve done, I use
improvisation to feature dancers, to
give them solos. I like to give
them an opportunity to express what they have to say within my work. They do my
choreography, but they’re
also dancers in their own rite and have their own style, which is one of the
reasons I've asked them to be part of my company. I might direct their improvisation, give them an intention,
but they can use their own voices. Another use of improvisation is when I want
to create a chaotic moment.... everyone improvises at one time, or an organized
improvisation to make counter rhythms.
Even though we’re
improvising, we’re blending into a
groove so, again, we’re creating
something musically and and because we're improvising, it's always challenging
and different.
REMY: Do you ever use improvisation to
build or influence your choreography?
BARBARA: Sure, because when I’m creating something I have to improvise right
away. I feel a rhythm, and then I’ll make it with my feet; that’s improv. I think that it all starts that way and then becomes more
organized. Then I've got to settle
on what steps I want to use and what picture I want to make.
REMY: Being a girl who's always favored jazz, I can't help but notice that dance forms like modern and
ballet are much more main stream at the moment. How does those styles, if at
all, influence you?
BARBARA: I
can't say that ONLY modern dance influences my choreography. It doesn’t actually matter what the dance form
is. If I go to any dance concert,
what moves me is the story and the emotion of the dancers. So whatever form
that comes in, that’s what inspires
me. I could go to watch African
dance and get totally inspired, or it could be modern or ballet or opera.
REMY: Is there anyone or anything in
particular that you feel has inspired your work?
BARBARA: I've
loved seeing Koresh Dance Company, based in Philly, as well as Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet, here in NYC, because of the stories they tell through
dance. I'm also continually inspired by all kinds of music, from Bonnie Raitt
to Santana to Oscar Peterson.
REMY: When you’re creating a piece, do you usually go
with the rhythm of the music or do you create a rhythm that complements it or
all of that?
BARBARA: All
of that. It also depends on whether I’ll be dancing to live music or to a recorded piece
of music, each is a little bit different. If it’s a recorded piece of music, of course it doesn’t change ever, it’s going to be the same and we memorize
the song so I really try to create choreography that is influenced by the ups
and downs and the moods of that music, so that will definitely affect what I’m going to do with that music. Or sometimes, when I’m
making a piece, maybe I'll start with no music and then bring some music in
later. I’ve also worked with musicians to arrange a particular piece
of music that I want. And a lot of
times within that, it will be Jazz-based so the musicians will be improvising
within that in certain sections, so that makes things a little bit different.
REMY: So when you have the musicians
improvising, is that a point of time when you’d
have the dancers improvising or would that be too hectic?
BARBARA: No,
it could be either way. That’s what Jazz musicians do. They
improvise and play with the song and then improvise off of it musically, so it
depends. I mean there are sections when we’re definitely improvising together, or we might be
doing choreography and the musician might still be improvising. And so I might ask the musicians to
play a certain mood, or maybe not fill up with so many notes but still improvise.
REMY: Tap always makes me think of the
suave and elegant like Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire and their light-hearted,
entertaining work. You’re work is much more emotional and
there’s much more
variety and dynamic. Could you speak to that a bit?
BARBARA: I
think that we’ve grown in the
art form in that people are more aware of the progress we've made, since Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire, which was 50, 60
years ago now, so I do think that the general public is more aware of
tap dance since then. But some people, if they’ve never seen tap dance recently, that’s what they might think of. That was a
very different style of tap dance because it was for the movies, it was movie
tap dance. The traditional
Broadway style of tap, with the exception of certain shows is more oriented to
simpler steps and more "showy" effects, arms and hands. In the late ‘70’s-early ‘80’s,
people like Lynn Dally of the Jazz Tap Ensemble, who is a modern/tap dancer,
started creating tap concerts. Tap companies started to form. Brenda Bufalino,
my teacher, created the American Tap Dance Orchestra, (I was her dance captain
and featured dancer). Heather Cornell created Manhattan Tap, for example. Tap
dance went onto the concert stage, similar to modern dance concerts. Gregory Hines was a huge influence on-the art form. He started dancing to contemporary music in the mid ‘80’s, so he really influenced the younger generation
to want to tap dance and opened up a lot of possibilities. Jelly's Last Jam & Bring In Da Noise, Bring In Da Funk were groundbreaking musicals on
Broadway, presenting a different style of tap to Broadway audiences from what
we usually would see. So I came from that, I came up when that was all
happening. I have to say that we
all learn from each other with tap, and of course Gene Kelly was one of my
favorites, and I think it has to do with his energy and his rhythms. Everybody
knows [Kelly and Astaire] so a lot is influenced by them and other famous movie
stars, like the Nicholas Brothers and the Condos Brothers, that’s what made me love tap dance as a kid,
those movies.
REMY: It’s
just so interesting to see how different forms of dance have evolved over time,
and even looking at all the styles and genres within each dance form is
amazing.
BARBARA: Right,
and the tap world has really grown in that way, it’s really grown. Savion Glover changed a
lot of things technically, people are doing things they’ve never done before
footwork-wise.
REMY: One of the things that I
personally had a hard time with when I was taking tap was how to coordinate and
control your upper body when you were moving your feet so intricately and
quickly. So when you’re creating a piece, do you mostly
focus on the footwork or do you also work with the whole upper body at the same
time?
BARBARA: I
think what happens is, basically, I’m focused on the rhythm that I want and when I
figure out exactly what footwork I’m using, my body kind of goes naturally where it
wants to. I’m pretty much a whole-body tap dancer
anyway, I don’t just stay in one
place and I move a lot and my upper body moves, so I kind of have my way of
moving. But sometimes I really get
specific with my dancers about really wanting to exaggerate a movement and we
all need to be together and pretty uniform most of the time, unless we’re improvising. So I think the answer
is that I focus on my music first with what I want to say, and then also it
depends on the mood of the music or the mood I want to create. and how my body
would move to that.
REMY: I really like that idea of
starting with a rhythm and feeling how it moves you, rather than deciding to
move this way or that way.
BARBARA: Right,
well I’m not saying that’s the only way it could happen, because
there’s many ways to approach it. I give an exercise to my improv class
about dancing first and then seeing what your feet are going to do and how your
feet will follow, that’s
a whole different way to approach it.
REMY: So is there anything else you
really want to say about your work or your experience with tap?
BARBARA: I
feel really lucky that I’m
making a living doing this and I think it’s important to pass the word about tap dance. That’s been the mission, to make people aware of tap dance
because people love it when they see it, but it’s interesting to see how many people in the general
public really don’t know much about
tap dance and it's history and what's happening now. A lot of people think it's
a dead art form, when actually it's growing and thriving all over the
world. So that’s the mission, to make people aware of
this Americana dance form and the artistry of tap dance, not just a
preconceived notion of what they think it is.
REMY: You’re right, any time anyone sees a tap
dance performance they love it, it’s
impossible not to!
BARBARA: I know! It’s very true.
6/17/12
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)







