NDT in NYC

NEW YORK CITY   Nederlands Dans Theater returns to New York City Center for the first time since Emily Molnar took the helm. William Forsythe’s N.N.N.N. is joined by a pair of U.S. premieres: Imre and Marne van Opstal’s The Point Being and Sharon Eyal and Gai Behar’s Jakie. April 3–6. nycitycenter.org. —Courtney Escoyne

Centering Latina Voices

SAN FRANCISCO  The Carmen premiering at San Francisco Ballet this month won’t look or sound the same as usual. Choreographer Arielle Smith (a 2022 “25 to Watch” pick) sets the tale in contemporary Cuba—specifically at the family restaurant to which the titular heroine returns with her new husband after the death of her mother—while refocusing the story on Carmen and emphasizing the depth and complexity of the characters with cinematic flair. Escamillo, whom Carmen falls in love with, is recast as a woman, and the new score by Arturo O’Farrill only references the familiar Bizet opera as it layers in Cuban folk music. Joining the new ballet on the Dos Mujeres program is Annabelle Lopez Ochoa’s Frida Kahlo–inspired Broken Wings (which SFB artistic director Tamara Rojo commissioned and starred in during her English National Ballet tenure). The evening marks the first double bill choreographed by women and the first full program dedicated to Latinx stories at SFB. April 4–14. sfballet.org. —CE

Eclipsing All Else

NEW YORK CITY  Ahead of the Great North American Eclipse on April 8, the feath3r theory alights at NYU Skirball to premiere a devised dance theater work about a group of friends who team up to watch the celestial event and miss it. Raja Feather Kelly draws on Ernest Becker’s The Denial of Death, the popularity of the science fiction concept of the multiverse, and the ways social media exacerbates loneliness and society’s inability to face it for The Absolute Future (or Death, Loneliness, and The Absolute Future of the Multiverse, or How to Cover the Sun with Mud). April 5–6. nyuskirball.org. —CE

Carnival of Politics

SEATTLE  Choreographed and directed by Francesca Harper and performed by dancer Wendy Whelan and poet Marc Bamuthi Joseph, Carnival of the Animals reframes the Camille Saint-Saëns classic to consider the animals of a political jungle as it responds to the January 6 insurrection and contemplates the future of democracy. The SOZO-produced work premieres at the Meany Center for the Performing Arts on April 6. sozoartists.com. —CE

Memories of Matriarchs

HOUSTON  With three “Bessie” Awards, the Rome Prize, and a sumptuous stage presence, Jasmine Hearn is one of the most acclaimed contemporary dance artists to come out of Houston. But Memory Fleet: A Return to Matr, a performance, installation, and online archive that preserves the memories of eight Black Houston matriarchs, is their first major commission in their hometown. Commissioned by DiverseWorks, the multidisciplinary project includes original sound scores, choreography, and garments, along with guest performances by former Houston Ballet soloist Sandra Organ Solis and additional vocals and performances by local dancers and “Houston Aunties,” as Hearn calls them. The premiere at Houston Met April 6–7 will be followed by tours to Pittsburgh and New York City. diverseworks.org. —Nancy Wozny

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

COSTA MESA, CA  American Ballet Theatre presents the North American premiere of Woolf Works, Wayne McGregor’s three-act meditation on the writings of Virginia Woolf, at Segerstrom Center for the Arts. Inspired by her novels Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando, and The Waves as well as her letters and diaries, the critically acclaimed ballet eschews narrative adaptation to take a stream of consciousness approach to the modernist writer’s oeuvre. April 11–14. abt.org. —CE

Packed With Premieres

CHICAGO  South Chicago Dance Theatre returns to the Auditorium Theatre for an evening filled to the brim with premieres by Donald Byrd, Joshua Blake Carter, Monique Haley, Tsai Hsi Hung, Terence Marling, and founding executive artistic director Kia Smith. April 27. southchicagodancetheatre.com. —CE

The Weight of a Lie

ZURICH  Cathy Marston brings her penchant for literary adaptation to Atonement, her first new work as Ballett Zürich’s director. In Ian McEwan’s novel and Joe Wright’s acclaimed film adaptation, teenage writer Briony Tallis tells a deliberate lie about her older sister’s lover and spends the rest of her life attempting to make up for its unintended consequences. Marston transfers the action to the world of ballet, making Tallis a choreographer while wrestling with the story’s questions about the fallibility of memory and the nature of self-deception and guilt. April 28–June 7. opernhaus.ch. —CE

A Jazzy Centennial

Dance artists join the nationwide celebration of iconic jazz drummer and composer Max Roach.

Max Roach 100 at The Joyce Theater

NEW YORK CITY  Richard Colton curated The Joyce Theater’s Max Roach 100 program, which will feature a new work to Roach’s Percussion Bitter Sweet album by Ronald K. Brown for Malpaso Dance Company and EVIDENCE, A Dance Company; Rennie Harris Puremovement in The Dream/It’s Time; and a solo by tap star Ayodele Casel set to a series of duets by Roach and Cecil Taylor. April 2–7. joyce.org. —CE

Bill T. Jones at Harlem Stage

NEW YORK CITY  Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Company revisits Degga, a 1995 collaboration between Jones, Max Roach, and Toni Morrison, as part of Harlem Stage’s E-Moves program. Also on offer is a new work by Roderick George. April 19–20. harlemstage.org. —CE

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Comings & Goings

At San Francisco Ballet, Jasmine Jimison has been promoted to principal.

At Carolina Ballet, Joseph Gerhardt has been promoted to principal.

At Paris Opéra Ballet, Bleuenn Battistoni has been promoted to étoile.

At Miami City Ballet, Taylor Naturkas has been promoted to principal soloist, Brooks Landegger and Satoki Habuchi to soloist.

At American Ballet Theatre, Jarod Curley, Carlos Gonzales, and Jake Roxander have been promoted to soloist.

At Boston Ballet, Daniel Durrett, Lauren Herfindahl, and Sangmin Lee have been promoted to soloist, Kaitlyn Casey and Courtney Nitting to second soloist.

At Colorado Ballet, Leah Rose McFadden and Jessica Payne have been promoted to principal, beginning with the 2024–25 season.

English National Ballet répétiteur Antonio Castilla has been named associate artistic director at San Francisco Ballet, beginning in June. He succeeds Kerry Nicholls, who has been named director of artist development, beginning in May.

Taja Cheek has been named artistic director of Performance Space New York, sharing leadership with senior director Pati Hertling and associate director Ana Beatriz Sepúlveda-Echegaray.

Ilter Ibrahimof will step down as artistic director of Fall For Dance North in October, after the festival’s 2024 edition.

Deborah S. Brant has been appointed president and CEO of Cincinnati Ballet after serving in both roles in an interim capacity following Scott Altman’s departure at the end of 2023.

National Ballet of Canada executive director Barry Hughson will step down at the end of the 2023–24 season to join American Ballet Theatre in the same role, effective July 1.

Orlando Ballet executive director Cheryl Collins will part ways with the company at the end of the 2023–24 season. Artistic director Jorden Morris will serve as interim executive director while the search for her successor is underway.

The American Tap Dance Center will close its doors on June 30. This summer’s Tap City, American Tap Dance Foundation’s annual festival, has been canceled, and the non-profit will downsize.

Awards & Honors

Bril Barrett and the Zuni Olla Maidens were named 2024 National Endowment for the Arts National Heritage Fellows, which includes a $25,000 prize.

Pam Tanowitz will receive the 2024 Jacob’s Pillow Dance Award, which includes a $25,000 unrestricted grant, at the Pillow’s season opening gala on June 22.

Ishmael Houston-Jones will receive the American Dance Festival’s 2024 Balasaraswati/Joy Anne Dewey Beinecke Endowed Chair for Distinguished Teaching, which includes a $5,000 honorarium, on June 30.

Alice Sheppard and taisha paggett are among the recipients of Spring-Summer 2024 MacDowell Fellowships.

Iana Salenko was awarded the honorary title of Berlin Chamber Dancer.

Recipients of Isadora Duncan Dance Awards (“Izzies”) for the 2022–23 performance season included Rogelio Lopez and Danielle Rowe (Outstanding Achievement in Choreography or Direction, Entre Despierto y Dormido and MADCAP, respectively); Jin Lee Baobei, Lawrence Chen, and Nicole Townsend (Outstanding Achievement in Performance — Individual); Joseph A. Hernandez and Kelsey McFalls (Outstanding Achievement in Performance — Ensemble, Natasha Adorlee’s Blooming Flowers and the Full Moon); Los Lupeños de San José (Outstanding Achievement in Performance — Company, Yahir Padilla’s Ritos y Costumbres); and San Francisco Playhouse (Outstanding Achievement in Restaging/Revival/Reconstruction, A Chorus Line). Rena Butler, Dance Mission Theater, and José Ome Mazati and Debb Kajiyama of NAKA Dance Theater received Special Achievement Awards. Dimensions Dance Theater, Nancy Karp, and Robert Henry Johnson (posthumous) were honored for Sustained Achievement.

New Funding Opportunities

The Doris Duke Foundation is accepting applications for its new Performing Arts Technologies Lab. It will fund selected project proposals utilizing new digital tools and production methods from individuals, organizations, and partnerships working in jazz, contemporary dance, and theater. Application deadline is May 6; further information available here.

The post News of Note: What You Might Have Missed in March 2024 appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Though musicals and plays can come to Broadway via many different routes, the majority of them transfer from regional theaters, off-Broadway, the West End, or national tours. In this 2023–24 season, there are 20 musicals premiering on Broadway, including brand-new shows and revivals. Every single one of those productions was previously staged somewhere else.

This tactic has become even more common in the wake of pandemic shutdowns, as the financial risks of mounting a show have increased. The producing and creative teams can get a feel for how their show works in an environment that has less pressure and requires less money. They can take time to gauge audience reactions to the work, read reviews, and analyze public interest and ticket sales. And the process can ultimately lead to big career opportunities for the dancers and actors involved.

Theater Matchmaking

Pre-Broadway runs of a show can help more experimental, outside-the-box productions find financial investors and Broadway theater owners who are interested in helping them have a future life. Mandy Hackett, the associate artistic director of The Public Theater in downtown Manhattan, has helped shepherd 15 shows from the famous off-Broadway venue onto Broadway, including Hamilton and this month’s Hell’s Kitchen.

“Broadway has expanded a lot over the past 20 years,” she says. “More diverse work is coming from the nonprofit world, and producers are getting more comfortable taking risks with putting up a wider range of adventurous work. But that means there are so many shows vying for theaters, and theater owners are getting pitched from all different places day in and day out.” Previous runs give everyone a better sense of which shows and theaters might be good matches—aligning what’s right artistically for the show with what’s smart for the business of the theater.

A Feat of Logistics—and Creativity

Once a theater gets officially locked in, the real heavy lifting of the transfer begins. It’s a massive undertaking that, among other things, includes the public relations team finalizing the show’s artwork for marketing and advertising, the box office setting ticket prices and rolling out a calendar for announcements and sales, and the production team planning when their load-in can start and what the company’s rehearsal schedule will look like.

While all of this is going on behind the scenes, the show’s creative team is also hard at work. Initially putting up a full-scale version of their show somewhere other than Broadway gives them a chance to see what doesn’t translate effectively from the page to the stage. This information is then used to make changes to the piece in another workshop or during their Broadway rehearsal process. These could be small tweaks, like script and choreography edits or a costume redesign, or there could be bigger restructuring involving cutting, adding, or rearranging entire scenes, songs, or characters. Sometimes creative-team members can also change—a new set designer is brought in to shift the aesthetic, or a different choreographer is brought in to adjust the movement style.

The new Broadway revival of The Wiz toured 13 cities over the past seven months before it sat down on Broadway this month. Matthew Sims Jr. is a swing in the company, and he’s glad their show had an opportunity for a test drive. “Since COVID, it feels like a lot of shows are hanging on by a thread. Closing notices come quickly, it’s more expensive to put up a show and harder to get audiences to come,” he said. “But with touring, we’ve gotten to see what speaks to people from different places and from different demographics before putting it all together on Broadway.”

Choreography, especially, often undergoes significant revisions during the transfer process. I’ve had the pleasure of working on the choreography team of two shows that transferred to Broadway from out of town: How to Dance in Ohio, which premiered in September 2022 at Syracuse Stage and transferred to Broadway this past fall, and The Who’s TOMMY, a revival that we staged at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago last summer and is opening on Broadway this spring. While preparing for these transfers, there were a few things we needed to consider: What are the dimensions of the new stage and how will that affect the spacing and movement we created in the regional versions? Were there any parts of our choreography that we weren’t fully satisfied with last time that we now want to update? If we have new set pieces, new dancers, or new costumes, what changes do we need to make to accommodate the updates being made by other departments? For both shows, our dance teams did a lot of work in the studio to revisit what we initially created and brainstorm new ideas we wanted to implement for the next iteration.

Casting Variations

Changes may also be made to a show’s cast between a preliminary run and Broadway. Sometimes cast members need to be replaced for various reasons—the director or choreographer may feel that a performer wasn’t properly suited to the show, or maybe the dancer has booked another job that’s happening at the same time. Frequently, auditions are also held to add additional swings and understudies to bulk up coverage for a longer run. In the case of a transfer from London, using international talent can get complicated and expensive with visas, unions, and housing relocation fees, so often almost an entirely new company of American workers is needed.

Claire Burke, a casting director with Tara Rubin Casting, helped usher in last summer’s hit show Back to the Future from the West End. “While casting a transfer, there is already existing choreography and a set of skills that have been determined,” she says. “So instead of building a brand-new piece in collaboration with whoever we choose, we have to cast people who are able to do exactly what has been previously established. There can still be creative freedom and different interpretations, but it’s a balance between finding someone unique and still honoring the original piece.”

The Broadway Boost

The cast of a Broadway transfer will often, however, include many of the artists who have been attached since its early stages. The original dancers, specifically, tend to be integral to the creation of the show’s movement, and a lot of times the choreographer prefers to keep their ensemble intact.

And while a transfer is certainly not the goal for every show, being in a Broadway house brings with it the perk of potential widespread success, which can ultimately trickle down to all the hands that touched the production. Sims, who is making his Broadway debut with The Wiz, says he’s proudly enjoying the feeling of reaching the pinnacle of the industry and is excited for where it will all lead him.

The sense of community that can come from a big Broadway audience is also a boon for many artists. “I remember being in the Broadway house of one of the earliest transfers I worked on, and feeling how many more people were there laughing and applauding,” said Hackett. “Of course it’s equally as magical downtown at The Public, but there is something so cool about the increased scale of people gathering in that theater, on that day, to share in that moment together. It sticks with you.”

The post The Whys and Hows of Broadway Transfers appeared first on Dance Magazine.

But for Lensi, who is allergic to dairy, eggs, nuts, and kiwifruit, it wasn’t as easy as going to a restaurant or following a standard recipe. “I decided I needed to figure out my own recipe,” she says. With the help of her mom, tuning in from Milan via FaceTime, Lensi experimented with coconut flour and brown rice flour before settling on oat. She also learned that chia seeds can act like an egg substitute, binding the batter together. “There were a lot of trials and errors, but I figured out that it is possible to make pancakes if you have a lot of food allergies, or you just want to avoid eggs or dairy,” says Lensi.

The Joy of Cooking

Living with severe allergies while managing ABT’s grueling rehearsal and touring schedule hasn’t always been easy for Lensi. Eating out or relying on prepared food is rarely an option. “When I was younger, I always felt like cooking was a chore because I have to do it literally every day,” she says, adding that even on tour, she cooks her own food; the company travels with a microwave for her to use. But recently, thanks to cooking together with her boyfriend, ABT dancer Andrii Ishchuk, and experimenting with recipes she finds on Instagram and YouTube, she’s learned to relish her time in the kitchen. And when that’s not enough? “I like to put a TV show on, and that makes it more enjoyable,” says Lensi. “I love any comedy show. Right now, I’m rewatching ‘Ugly Betty.’ ”

Knives Out

The one kitchen tool that Lensi can’t live without is sharp knives. “I love having good knives,” she says. “Because my arms are not super-strong, if I have a bad knife I really have to push too hard. I am really picky about that.”

Ingredients

• 1 cup oat flour
• 1 cup oat milk
• 1 tbsp olive oil, plus extra for greasing the pan
• 2 tbsps cane sugar (“I personally like the taste of cane sugar,” says Lensi. “It has more of a flavor, and growing up I always used it.”)
• 1 tbsp chia seeds
• 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips (“I use the brand Enjoy Life, because it’s free of 14 common allergens,” says Lensi.)
  Toppings
• berries
• maple syrup

Instructions

1. In a large mixing bowl, combine oat flour, oat milk, olive oil, cane sugar, chia seeds, and chocolate chips. Mix until the batter is smooth. If it feels too thick, you can add a bit more oat milk as needed.
2. Set a nonstick pan over medium heat. Pour some olive oil onto a paper towel and use it to grease the pan. (Lensi stresses the importance of this step: “If you don’t use the paper towel, the oil goes around the pancake instead of underneath, and the pancakes stick to the pan.”)
3. Using a soup spoon or ladle, spoon small amounts of the batter into the prepared pan to create individual pancakes. Allow them to cook until small bubbles form on the surface, then carefully flip them with a spatula.
4. Top the pancakes with a generous serving of fresh berries, and drizzle with maple syrup. Serve warm, and enjoy!

The post American Ballet Theatre’s Virginia Lensi Shares Her Allergy-Friendly Oat Pancakes appeared first on Dance Magazine.

In making Chasing Canyons, I set out to choreograph a site-specific dance for a site so big it is impossible to see in its entirety. I began with my geologic knowledge of the Grand Canyon, built from my years of scientific training and the weeks I spent climbing up and down its walls. The resulting gesture phrase follows the canyon’s life cycle: the initial crush of its basement rocks, the tilting of overlying strata, the massive gap in time known as the Great Unconformity, subsequent deposition of layers upon layers of sediments, and, finally, the coming of the Colorado River to uncover it all. From there, I began to draw the parts of the canyon that I could see, tracing the terraces and side canyons, dragging feet and fingers from the tops of the cliffs to the shady hollows at the base. I worked in the positions of the stars above the canyon, which mark its location in space and time. Then I merged it all together to create a moving map, not just of the canyon, but of how humans relate to it.

Connecting the canyon to the stars raised more questions: How do we interact with beautiful spaces, here on Earth and elsewhere? When we land on Mars, will we be owners or caretakers? At the end of the piece, I answer these questions: I erase the map. Much like art and science, I think that “to boldly go” and “take only pictures, leave only footprints” are two complementary, not conflicting, philosophies.

My time as the Astronomer (and dancer) in Residence at the canyon has ended, but I will carry it in my body as well as my mind. It is my greatest hope that in making these kinds of dances, I can inspire audiences to expand their minds—to explore the different ways we can understand, learn, and appreciate the universe in which we live.

The post Dancing Across the Solar System as the Grand Canyon’s Astronomer in Residence appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Moving With Precision

Dancers tend to demonstrate Pilates exercises exceptionally well as a result of their training, conditioning, and awareness of the details of movement. Bryant has found the deep knowledge of the body and of movement patterns she developed as a dancer to be indispensable in teaching Pilates. “I had decades of memorizing choreography, both for performances and during classes,” she says. “Classical Pilates has more than 530 exercises. Trying to memorize 530 random facts would be overwhelming, but placing them in a choreographic sequence makes them accessible.”

Similarly, dancers have experience with the body getting progressively warmer and stronger as they move through a dance class. “The same thing happens in a Pilates class,” says Bryant. “You start with relatively simple exercises and build toward more difficult and complex movement.”

Founded by Joseph Pilates during World War I to help rehabilitate injured and sick prisoners of war, Pilates draws upon principles of physical therapy, yoga, and gymnastics to create a holistic approach to exercise and movement. Bryant credits Pilates for extending her own career as a dancer. “I was a very hypermobile dancer and had a lot of chronic dislocations,” she says. “Pilates helped to stabilize my body tremendously.”

Teaching also offers a way for dancers to work in a field that’s more directly related to their passion for movement. “You can earn money with a job that actually informs your dancing,” says Bryant, explaining that many of her dance colleagues had second jobs in restaurants or retail. “Teaching Pilates gives you the opportunity to speak health into your body while also helping somebody else move better. It gives you a career that is directly related to health, wellness, and movement.”

Spiraling Strength

Karen Safrit can draw a direct line from her own dance training and teaching to her success as a Gyrotonic teacher. A competitive figure skater as a child, Safrit later danced professionally­ with Nikolais and Murray Louis Dance. She decided to get certified to teach Gyrotonic more than a decade ago as an asset to teaching in university dance programs. Instantly it clicked: “Dancers generally are not aware of how they achieve the strength in their movement, as it’s not often talked about in ballet or modern classes,” says Safrit. “The Gyrotonic Expansion System focuses on making the whole body stronger and giving people the ability to identify what they can do to achieve that strength and balance.”

The Gyrotonic Expansion System was created by Juliu Horvath, a former principal dancer with the Romanian National Ballet Company, who defected from Romania, settled in the U.S., and was a principal dancer with Houston Ballet. After a ruptured Achilles tendon ended his performing career, he moved to New York City and developed the Gyrotonic and Gyrokinesis exercises. For Safrit, who had also studied Pilates while getting an MFA in dance at New York University, Gyrotonic exercises are “more three-dimensional, with more spirals in all the extremities.”

Safrit has found that teaching fits well into many dancers’ schedules. “Most dancers are working at night if they’re performing, or taking classes at night if their city doesn’t have open classes during the day. A lot of the people who are practicing Gyrotonic are looking for sessions during the daytime.”

Teaching also taps into a skill many dancers possess: focus.­ “I remember when I was dancing professionally and class was the place where all the worries of the day disappeared and my only concern was dancing,” says Safrit. “My clients today describe a similar pleasure with Gyrotonic: You have to concentrate on each movement, and this mindfulness gives people an hour of focus that’s often missing in busy lives that are full of distractions and screens. They separate the pressures of life outside the studio from an hour of moving within the studio. Dancers understand that joy.”

Teaching Certifications

Teaching Gyrotonic, which is trademarked, requires becoming a certified trainer. Gyrotonic certification includes a pre-training course, the foundation course, an apprenticeship, and a final certificate/assessment, with a cost of just under $5,000. Continuing education credits are required every two years, costing between $400 and $1,000, and instructors are also required to have their own liability insurance (approximately $160 annually). Gyrotonic teachers typically charge clients between $100 and $175 for an hour-long private session.

“Pilates is legally considered a generic term, which means anyone can open a Pilates studio and start training teachers,” explains Everlea Bryant, who strongly recommends dancers get certified before teaching. She recommends looking for a well-established program with instructors who have significant experience in teacher training. While Bryant acknowledges getting certified can be expensive, with “some programs costing upwards of $10,000 for comprehensive training,” she notes that most teachers will earn many multiples of the cost of training.

There are ways to reduce and/or spread out costs: Bryant directs a studio that offers work–study positions and internships. “People can pay for their training while earning an income,” she says.

The post Why Dancers Make Great Pilates and Gyrotonic Instructors appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Broadway choreography has long been an amalgam of different social dances and forms like jazz, tap, and ballet. But today’s shows are increasingly using movement makers from genres outside the musical theater world altogether, like experimental dance (David Neumann, Annie-B Parson, Raja Feather Kelly), commercial dance (Sonya Tayeh, JaQuel Knight, Keone and Mari Madrid), modern dance (Camille A. Brown), and physical theater (Steven Hoggett).

“There’s a whole cadre now of choreographers who never were in a Broadway show, who never danced in A Chorus Line,” says veteran Broadway journalist Sylviane Gold. “And they’re bringing something different.”

Traditionally, musical theater dance had “artistic aspirations but with popular appeal,” says Appalachian State University professor Ray Miller, author of Dance on the American Musical Theatre Stage. Broadway is, after all, a for-profit business. While today’s musical theater choreographers still face pressure to sell tickets, those coming to Broadway from other traditions are sometimes less oriented toward popularity. And that can lead to more risk-taking.

For instance, when Neumann choreographed Hadestown, he brought the narrative to life by leaning into abstraction and subtlety, creating simple movements—like loose, rhythmic walking—that had a magnetic pull. “I don’t want to dictate the audience’s entire experience,” Neumann says. “I want them to lean in and become curious.”

It’s not just the steps that have changed. The role dance plays in musicals has also shifted. “Theater choreography used to be more about literal storytelling,” says longtime Broadway choreographer and director Susan Stroman. “Today the choreography is more about atmosphere, capturing the essence of the emotion that’s happening onstage, whether it’s tension or romance.” She credits Andy Blankenbuehler’s work on Hamilton and Camille A. Brown’s Choir Boy in particular for spurring this development.

This more abstract approach has meant less choreography featuring characters dancing as individuals and more collective ensemble movement, says Stroman. When someone does break out for a solo, “the choreography today has unbelievably interesting and very intricate steps,” Stroman says—a trend that might reflect the distinctive showmanship of social media dance. “Younger choreographers are able to tap into video and TikTok and Instagram, where steps are mostly the stars,” Stroman says.

The 2020 sea change also had an impact. Since COVID-19, older audience members—who got used to safer and more convenient entertainment options—have become less-dependable ticket buyers, says Stroman. That means producers are sometimes willing to take a chance on something different, hoping to draw in younger audiences. And following big pushes from social justice movements, producers are also hiring directors from a variety of backgrounds, who are in turn seeking out choreographers from different genres—which is changing the type of movement that ends up onstage.

“We’re telling more diverse stories,” says Ellenore Scott, who choreographed Broadway’s Funny Girl and Mr. Saturday Night in 2022. “We’re using voices that were not heard back in the 1940s, 1950s.”

And a wider array of creative perspectives—both on Broadway and well beyond it—is part of the path to progress. As Neumann says, “An art form is only as strong as the number of voices able to tell stories and speak through their particular weird proclivities.”

What About Tap Dance?

Tap dance has been an essential component of Broadway dance since the 19th century, and as far back as the late 1700s dancer John Durang brought soft-shoe–style elements to the Great White Way, says historian Ray Miller. By the 1930s, musicals like Anything Goes and the original film version of 42nd Street were chock-full of crowd-pleasing tap numbers. But the iconic genre is no longer an expected staple of new musicals.

“Tap’s role kept changing as musicals changed,” says arts writer Sylviane Gold. “Today, tap can be a specialty number that is thrown into a show with a wink, as a little gift to the audience, even though it’s clearly out of place—as in Aladdin. It can be used as a dramatic element—as when the Irish and Black characters in Paradise Square stage a tap challenge.”

Choreographer Susan Stroman points out that there are fewer big ensemble tap numbers today: “It’s more about the strength of an individual tap dancer coming out and starring in a moment.”

The style of tap has also evolved. The traditional up-on-your-toes choreography is being replaced not only by grounded, hip-hop–inspired hoofing, but also by more complex steps and rhythms. “I think people are starving for more interesting rhythms, a new way to do something that’s old, trying to take something we’re familiar with and flip it on its head,” says Stroman.
Tap dance isn’t going away anytime soon. “As long as there are Broadway musicals, there will be some kind of tap,” predicts Gold. “But it won’t necessarily be performed by an ensemble doing time-steps in dazzling unison.”

Where Could (or Should) Broadway Choreography Go Next?

“I get excited by things like American Utopia that are really off the beaten path. I want choreography to be more inclusive and to say, ‘This can work, and this,’ looking for different ways to share what we think about our experience being alive on the planet.”
—David Neumann,
choreographer

“I would love Broadway to take a chance on the dance narrative, like it did at one time when I was able to do Contact or Twyla Tharp was able to do Movin’ Out.”
—Susan Stroman,
director and choreographer

“Just show me something I haven’t seen before. That’s what excites me. And that’s not to say that it isn’t absolutely wonderful to see something familiar brought to a new level of execution or excellence. But theater is about sitting in the audience and being surprised.”
—Sylviane Gold, arts writer

“I hope that Broadway creative teams take chances on different styles of movement as a way to tell a story. You can have one script and tell it 1,000 different ways depending on how that show is choreographed and staged and directed.”
—Ellenore Scott, choreographer

“Straight plays are beginning to pay attention to ecology, and I’m sure that it will happen on the musical stage, too. We now have the talents and the tools to create musicals that address climate and other environmental concerns. We need more stories to help us to conceive more sustainable ways of being.”
—Ray Miller, historian

The post What Does “Broadway Choreography” Mean Today? appeared first on Dance Magazine.

A Little More Mascara

Dennis Callahan (Monique): I think there were between 800 and 1,000 at the original open call. Scott Salmon, who was the choreographer, was not a New York person. So it was really like a clean slate as far as what he was seeing at these auditions.

David Engel (Hanna): I was only being seen for Jean-Michel [one of the leads]. Then they said, “We need to see you dance and in drag.” I didn’t know why. I came to the final dance call. Everybody else had learned all this choreography. I learned it on the spot.

Dan O’Grady (Odette): It got down to maybe 25 of us at the end. I had never done any drag, but I decided to show up in drag [for the final audition]. It was really, really funny. When I got into the cab, the cab driver got out, opened the door for me, called me ma’am. Then I went into the theater, and they didn’t know who I was. No one else arrived in drag.

DC: From 10 in the morning to 4 or 5 in the afternoon, we did all of the dancing in drag. And at the end of this long day, we were 12 and 12 across the stage.

DE: Basically, it was like the end of A Chorus Line. We were all lined up across the stage. And then they’re like, “Rehearsals start on this date—congratulations.” Everybody’s jumping up and down screaming, and I’m like, “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

DC: After the others left, they had the 12 of us gather around the piano and sing “There’s No Business Like Show Business” in real short-clipped piano voices. [Composer] Jerry Herman said, “This is the style of La Cage’s opening song, ‘We are What We Are.’ ” It was such a cool moment to be around the piano with Jerry and [music director] Don Pippin, all of us in drag.

Not a Place We Have to Hide

DE: The very first day of rehearsal, [director] Arthur Laurents said, “We are not doing this apologetically. We are proudly playing these roles.”

DO: He gave us all storylines. Some were more developed than others, but we all had a bit of one. He really instilled in us that we were important to the story.

DC: Though I don’t think any of us had any experience doing drag, I don’t think any Cagelle would say it was hard. The atmosphere in the room was so supportive and nurturing that none of us felt any fear of being judged.

DO: I remember Arthur working on “I Am What I Am” with George Hearn [who played Albin], a straight man. The amount of pride and dignity that Arthur conveyed not just to George but all of us was very powerful. It moves me even just to think of it now.

DC: The Cagelles were given the last bow. When does that ever happen? We each just took a humble bow as ourselves. The sound of the audience was unbelievable.

Sometimes Sweet and Sometimes Bitter

DE: We had a whole warm-up area in the basement, and at intermission, we’d dress up, we’d be ridiculous. We just kept creating and playing.

It was the best of times. And it was the worst of times.

DO: I first started hearing about the “gay cancer” when we were in Boston. Nobody knew what it was.

DE: I remember thinking to myself, if I went to a gay bar, I would hold my breath. You just didn’t know. It was everywhere, and if you tested positive, it was a death sentence, definitely. And you could go quick.

DO: I think David Cahn [Chantelle] was the first of us Cagelles who got sick and left, then John Dolf [Nicole].

DC: I don’t remember any conversation between the rest of us about the boys being sick. I think it was sort of a feeling of: If they wanted to talk about it they would, and they’re not, so neither should we. And maybe there was also a fear.

DO: We felt the loss from the inside, and I think that’s what sort of led us to start thinking about the Easter Bonnet competition. Howard Crabtree and the other costume folks did these silly Easter bonnets, and we had folks donate. In the beginning it was just the cast, the crew, and the orchestra.

DE: We did the Easter Bonnet pageant in the basement and a Queen of Hearts pageant for Valentine’s Day, both just among ourselves, and raised money for Gay Men’s Health Crisis. The next year we decided to bring the Easter Bonnet pageant onto the stage and invited other casts to come—A Chorus Line, Cats, there were a few companies. I remember when they flipped over the cards at the end, we had raised $17,000. I was sobbing, sobbing.

DO: I think we needed a sense of agency. Because there was no hope. There really wasn’t. Our friends were dying, and we couldn’t do anything about it. But we could dress up and act silly and ask people for money.

DC: Teddy Azar was instrumental in the whole look of the show makeup- and wig-wise. He was one of the first in the company to come down with AIDS. He was at St. Vincent’s, and David [Scala, who played Phaedra], Sam [Singhaus, Clo-Clo], and I got some nurse drag with these giant hypodermic needles and resuscitation devices, just ridiculous stuff, and we went down there. People who worked there came up to us and said, “Could you please come bring some of this joy into some of the other rooms?” And we went in and out of these rooms, these three big old drag queens in nurse drag, and it was joyous. The whole thing was joyous.

DE: I had plenty of hard losses, but the hardest was [executive producer] Fritz Holt. At the show that night, we silently got in place, and one by one we turned around in the opening number and we all started singing “We Are What We Are.” But then one by one voices were dropping out. We just couldn’t sing. We were all crying. The cast members in the wings on both sides were singing for us, trying to keep it going.

We Are What We Are

DC: When we would turn around one by one in the opening number, you could feel, physically, this sort of crossed-arm, furrowed-brow feeling from the audience. They were probably wondering if maybe we’re too close, we’re going to get [AIDS].

By the end of the show those same faces were leaning into the stage, wide-eyed. I left every night thinking, Wow, I think I was part of something that changed what people think about homosexuals.

DE: I came out to my mom when I was 18, and she really struggled with it. She couldn’t understand what she had done wrong. And it was La Cage that turned her around. It let her know that you can have love and family being gay. She became a mother to all of my gay friends that had parents that disowned them. They adored her, and she loved all of them.

DC: From the beginning my parents saw something in me. They would take me to the Muny Opera, to the Starlight in Kansas City, and nurtured that in me. But at the same time I didn’t ever feel like I needed to tell them I was gay. I thought the words and the situation would hurt them. And they knew.

When they saw the show, that was my way of being able to tell them and show them that I was going to be okay.

DO: La Cage changed my life. I got to work with Harvey Fierstein and Jerry Herman and Arthur Laurents and Fritz Holt and Barry Brown and Don Pippin, and George Hearn and Gene Barry [Georges] and Merle Louise [Mme. Didon]. I also learned so much from Linda Haberman [Bitelle] and Jennifer Smith [Colette]. The work ethic, the creativity, and the artistry was like nothing I had ever been exposed to.
DC: At the 40-year reunion, we sang “The Best of Times.” There were two older gentlemen sitting next to each other in the audience, and they were bawling. And I thought, god, this show affected more people than we will ever know. It’s so special to have been a part of something like that.

The post <i>La Cage aux Folles</i>’ Cagelles, 40 Years Later: Something About Sharing, Something About Always appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Evans-Krueger, who graduated from Wright State University with a BFA in dance, possesses a magnetic presence, ethereal movement quality, and contagious passion. She will bring this winning trifecta to The Outsiders (which opens April 11 on Broadway) as both a performer and associate choreographer.

Food for the Soul

“The workload within this industry can be exhausting. But at the same time, when you’re performing as part of a show that you really believe in, night after night, it feels like it’s for a reason and a purpose. When a show sits right within your soul, even the hardest workdays are beyond worth it, and that’s what so many of us are searching for in life.”

Making the Space

“I am very observant. I’m good at reading a room and fitting into wherever someone needs me. I want to be open and I want people to feel free to express themselves in a space. To prepare for my leadership role with The Outsiders, I make sure I do what I need to do—like journaling, taking my morning walk—so that I am grounded within myself before I step into a space where I am expected to be a support system for other people.”

All the Right Questions

“I’m very curious about why I am the way I am, and why people are the way they are. Digging into my humanity and diving deeper into what makes me me is an inspiration for the work that I do. When it comes to choreographing, I ask myself: ‘What do I need to heal? What do I want to discover about relationships?’ I feel like my life’s work is about breaking down all of the things I grew up on so I was and am able to build a foundation that works for me.”

The post Broadway Dancer Tilly Evans-Krueger Seeks Authenticity Above All appeared first on Dance Magazine.

“There’s a little bit of everything,” he says. “Tap is probably the only thing we don’t have.”

It may be an exaggeration, but not by much. In the show’s ballet- and contemporary-inspired tornado scene, a storm of dancers destroys Dorothy’s home and sends her off to Oz. Once she gets there, she’s swept up in a New Orleans–style second line that leads her down the Yellow Brick Road, where she meets a Tinman who pops-and-locks. Eventually, she is ushered into the Emerald City amongst a dizzying array of dances from the Black diaspora, from street styles out of Atlanta to Afrobeats to the South African amapiano. 

Though The Wiz may have one of the most versatile casts of dancers on Broadway right now—and, in Knight, a choreographer who has shown from his expansive commercial career that he can do pretty much anything—the show’s pull-out-all-the-stops movement isn’t about showing off. Instead, it’s a form of placemaking, says director Schele Williams, grounding Dorothy in elements of Black culture as she journeys through Oz and back home again.

“I liken Dorothy’s journey to a walk through the woods,” she says. “You can turn a corner, and it’s a gorgeous meadow. And then you can go another 40 yards and all of a sudden there’s a lake. Every turn, you can be in a new location with its own set of rules. It gives us permission to fully immerse ourselves in a new location.”

Tapping into his encyclopedic knowledge of dance genres to create a unique vocabulary was nothing new for Knight, who has spent years choreographing for top pop stars, most notably Beyoncé. What was new for him: the genre of musical theater, and the task of using those dances to tell a story.

And not just any story. The Wiz, a retelling of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and a staple of Black culture, was revolutionary when it premiered in 1975 with choreography by George Faison, winning seven Tony Awards, including Best Musical and Best Choreography. A film adaptation starring Diana Ross and Michael Jackson, with choreography by Louis Johnson, came three years later. Several efforts to reignite a Broadway production have been in the works since, including a revival in 1984 that only lasted 13 performances, and another attempt in 2004 that never got off the ground.

This time, The Wiz team predicts, will be different. Williams believes the world needs this show, with its joy-infused score and hope-filled message, right now. And by taking the production out of the ’70s and adding some contemporary innovations—in addition to Knight’s genre-bending choreography, there are updates to the book by comedian Amber Ruffin; costumes by Sharen Davis (of “Westworld,” “Watchmen,” and Dreamgirls); a dazzling set by Hannah Beachler, of Black Panther; and a modernized score by music team Joseph Joubert, Allen René Louis, Adam Blackstone, and Paul Byssainthe Jr.—they hope it will become timeless.          

“I really wanted to create something that didn’t feel super ‘now,’ ” says Knight, “but takes you on a journey of Black dance. Throughout the show you see how these people live, how they move, how they celebrate, how they mourn, how they support each other, how they find a family.”           

Knight began building the show’s choreography in October 2022. He workshopped movement in Los Angeles with some of his go-to commercial dancers. “I dreamed as big as I could,” Knight says. “For me, it was about, How do we keep the essence­ and energy of what George Faison did, and also bring JaQuel Knight to the table?”

Broadway veteran and The Wiz dance captain Amber Jackson says the dance call was one of the most intense she’s experienced, with long, fast combos that constantly switched between styles, and rooms jam-packed with a who’s who of Black dance talent. A dance workshop with the chosen few—many of whom were Broadway newbies like Knight—followed, then rehearsals, then the national tour, then another round of rehearsals and tweaks before Broadway previews.

Reviews of the tour seem to agree that the production is highly entertaining, if a bit flashy. But as far as the choreography is concerned, nothing is flashy for flashiness’ sake. “I think the movement does a really beautiful job of not letting the audience feel detached from it,” says ensemble member Maya Bowles. “It’s not so codified in technique that it’s like, ‘That’s so impressive.’ It feels familiar. It feels like home. It feels like something that’s inherently in us as a Black community. It’s something you can be a part of. The invitation is open.”

From Beyoncé to Broadway

Theater was already on Knight’s bucket list when he got the offer to choreograph The Wiz, a call that, he says, made him “lose his mind.” Moving from commercial dance to Broadway presented a new opportunity: Knight, who is so often tasked with executing the vision of another artist—whether Beyoncé, Megan Thee Stallion, or Britney Spears—had a chance to discover his own vision. “I feel like I’m given room to explore my creativity and shape my voice as a movement artist,” he says. “And I’m enjoying that.”

Being new to theater, and therefore not beholden to ideas of how things are “supposed to be” done, has given Knight freedom to push the boundaries of what dance on Broadway can look like, says Phillip Johnson Richardson, who plays the Tinman. “He has the audacity to reinvent the whole thing,” Richardson says, “and not think of it like, ‘We can’t touch that, that’s classic material.’ ”

A New Kind of Tinman

In most productions of The Wiz, during the song “Slide Some Oil to Me,” the Tinman shows off his newly lubricated joints with a tap dance. But in Knight’s interpretation, the dance break becomes a showstopping hip-hop moment that Richardson, who plays the Tinman, says revealed the whole character to him.

The movement—lots of popping, locking, and waving—felt familiar to Richardson, reminding him of dances he watched growing up. “It was like, ‘Oh, I know who this guy is,’ ” says Richardson. “ ‘And I know how I can approach this guy.’ It informed how I wear my hat—I was originally supposed to wear it to the front, and I was like, ‘Nah, he’d wear it to the back or the side.’ He’s a lot closer to me than I originally thought.”

The post <i>The Wiz</i> Returns to Broadway Nearly 50 Years After Its Premiere With More Dance Than Ever appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Stats like those raise a big question: After the shanks have collapsed and the boxes have turned to mush, where do all the dead pointe shoes go?

According to Ozgem Ornektekin, a mechanical engineer who specializes in sustainability, a pointe shoe as a whole can’t go into a recycling waste stream. It needs to be pulled apart to salvage individual materials: The box and sole can go into paper and cardboard recycling streams, while the nails in some shoes can be recycled with metals, but the fabric needs to be donated to local fabric recycling collection boxes. The entire process of deconstructing the shoe is difficult, expensive, and time-intensive—which is why, unfortunately, most pointe shoes end up in landfills.

But some people and organizations are working valiantly to keep shoes out of the trash. Here are three ways dead shoes are getting a more environmentally friendly second act.

Shoe Souvenirs

The most common way companies repurpose pointe shoes is through signed-shoe sales. Many sell dancer-signed pairs in their gift shops, or send them as thank-you gifts to those who contribute to company pointe shoe funds.

During Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Nutcracker season, young students who participate in the production have the chance to write letters to company members they admire, and request a signed pair of pointe shoes from them. “That’s very popular,” says Sandy Barrack, PNB’s production stage manager.

The company also offers old shoes to the young children in its Eastside Summer Workshop for crafting purposes. And every so often, “someone will ask me for pointe shoes so they can make a wreath out of them, and things like that,” Barrack says. “I try to make use of the ones that can’t be sold when I can.”

Creating Art

Dead pointe shoes have also been used in professional artwork. The artist Karon Davis featured a small mountain of pointe shoes in her ballet-themed exhibition, Beauty Must Suffer, at New York City’s Salon 94 last fall. Davis’ mother, who like Davis was a dancer, sourced the shoes from thrift stores and estate sales; the installation gave them a poetic second life.

At Leigh Purtill Ballet Company, dancers turned their old pointe shoes into detailed floral centerpieces for the company’s spring gala. “The theme was ballet in bloom, and I wanted to incorporate pointe shoes,” says Vivian Garcia, a dancer and member of the company’s production team. She asked the other performers to save and donate their old shoes. “We were immediately bombarded,” says fellow dancer and production team member Elena Castellanos. Many dancers contributed—including one who had kept every pointe shoe she had ever worn—and in the end the production team had roughly 50 pairs to work with.

A team of four company members came together to bring Garcia’s vision to life in her mother’s backyard. “We painted flowers onto the shoes, put beautiful pieces of fabric both inside and outside of the soles of the shoes, and used shimmery paint to give it a glow,” Garcia says. Then the company raffled the shoes off as part of the gala’s fundraiser, helping to raise $5,000, which went toward their production of The Nutcracker and other expenses.

“I care a lot about the environment, and it’s been hard for me to go through so many shoes so quickly,” Castellanos says. Garcia agrees: “I think it’s wonderful for our pointe shoes to have this second phase of life.”

Recycling and Upcycling

Despite the difficulties, there have been various efforts over the years to recycle pointe shoes—or upcycle them.

Ornektekin founded Petit Pas New York, which transforms old pointe shoes into leather and satin accessories, after learning about how many pointe shoes professionals and advanced students were flying through. Partnering with the School of American Ballet (and with shoe maker Freed of London’s support), Ornektekin dissected students’ pointe shoes to determine what materials could and could not be reused. Then, with her team, she created four products: three bracelets and a small coin/hairpin bag. “We used the leather at the front of the shoe to make bracelets, and the satin from the back of the shoe to make bags,” she says.

All of the dead pointe shoes that Ornektekin revitalizes come from students at SAB. “At the end of each semester we get a big dump of them, and everything gets sanitized before we use it,” she says. Beyond what Petit Pas is doing for the environment, 50 percent of their proceeds goes back to the school’s pointe shoe fund to reduce the cost of shoes for the students.

Consider asking your school or company if they offer opportunities to donate or recycle. Though Ornektekin says her current priorities are local, she recommends that dancers around the world look into ways in which they, too, can reuse pointe shoes in their own community.

The post How Artists Are Keeping Mountains of Dead Pointe Shoes Out of Landfills appeared first on Dance Magazine.

“Within a week of the premiere, every single ballet company that one would ever dream of working for was in my inbox asking for a new ballet for the same season,” she says. Portner decided to give herself another year in ballet, which eventually dragged into several. Now, she’s on track to have created five ballets for major companies before she turns 30 in November.

Last month, she premiered her Bathtub Ballet at the Royal Swedish Ballet, and in April, she’ll have yet another premiere, her Forever, maybe at GöteborgsOperans Danskompani. For now, though, islands—the piece that started it all—is back, this time at the National Ballet of Canada. It’ll be Portner’s first time sharing a major work in her home country, where she still escapes to spend time at her house and studio in the woods on her rare week off. 

What’s new? It’s been a while.

My life has been crazy. I feel like the last time I connected with Dance Magazine I was a baby. It’s been forever since I’ve been interviewed because I’ve been in this prolonged period of discovery and change. 

Are you based in Europe now? 

I would consider Canada home, but I only get to spend really random bouts of time out here. I’m working in Scandinavia a lot. What was supposed to be a two-ballet contract with the Norwegian National Ballet ended up spanning four or five years because of the pandemic. I actually just finished dancing in a new ballet at the Oslo Opera House, a new piece by Alan Lucien Øyen. I was acting, which was a really fun departure for me. 

I didn’t realize that islands changed your life in such a major way. Tell me about that piece. 

Islands saved my life, in a way. When I went into it, I wasn’t in a great place. I was going through a lot in my personal life. I didn’t feel like a legitimate person to be making ballets. I felt like my personality was incompatible with the machine of the ballet institution. So when Ingrid called me, I declined at first. The only reason I ended up doing it was because I felt like I needed to escape the States. I needed to have a new start. 

I wanted the piece to be two women. I wasn’t setting out to do a gay piece, I just felt that in the ballet space in 2018, queer representation was either by chance—like the lead got sick, so someone else had to come in and now it’s a queer duet for one night—or it’s this big, sweeping, romantic duet. I felt there was nuance and reality lacking. And I felt like, What if queerness isn’t the thing we’re putting onstage, it just exists? And we’re allowed to have a complex relationship, and have the queerness be secondary to that? Because that’s the truth to me.  

In my earlier work, I would put way too many ideas into one thing. I couldn’t tolerate sitting with an idea long enough to see it develop. Now, I’m much more able to sit with things, and that’s what I really wanted to do with this one. The only idea I had going into it was that because­ of the classical tutu, women’s hips have been four feet apart for hundreds of years. I was like, What if we were able to reverse that? So for the first half of the piece, they are literally dancing inside the same pair of pants. That was the most fascinating and most frustrating and most awkward process. Some days in rehearsal, it was like, Okay, we need a break from the pants for five minutes. 

What does it feel like to be sharing this piece in your home country and on such an iconic company?

When I was growing up, I had posters of Heather Ogden and Karen Kain in my bedroom. And then, Heather Ogden is cast in the piece. I really have to pinch myself. I actually went to the National Ballet summer programs growing up, and I was desperate to go to the school, but my mom didn’t let me. It’s this unattainable place that I never thought I would get to because I didn’t go through the front door. I’m entering through this magical backdoor. 

You’ve said that you don’t consider yourself a ballet choreographer, but you’ve been working extensively in ballet. What does your relationship to ballet feel like right now?

This question is always swirling around in my head. I have to really leave myself in order to fit into the ballet institution because it’s so demanding of me on so many levels. I’m this question mark. People are taking a risk on me, and it’s a lot of pressure to walk into these spaces with so much history, and have it feel like it’s on my shoulders to change it. And people are looking at you and people are hoping with you and people are scared with you. But it feels like people are holding my pinky finger and not holding my hand through it. That’s where it gets really hard for me, because there’s still so much that needs to change. This is why I wanted to do five ballets before I’m 30: so I can say that I did it, and then I can step out of the ballet world for a second and reenter it in an entirely different way. I want to help ballet make itself more sustainable and to open the door for other people. Because I love ballet, and I want to see it thrive, but I want to see its people healthier. I want to see more people making ballets and trying new things and making a mess onstage and for that to be okay. I just feel like the whole system can use a little more breath and a little more optimism and a little more chance. But what is chance at the end of the world? You know, I’m someone who never wants to do interviews, but then I start doing an interview and I can’t stop talking. It’s fascinating. 

The post Emma Portner Brings the Work That Kept Her in the Dance World to National Ballet of Canada appeared first on Dance Magazine.

It’s true that her journey into dance was intertwined with higher education: She double-majored in dance and politics at Oberlin College and earned her MFA in choreography at UCLA. Her thesis work looked at salsa as a way to express social­ resistance in the debate around immigration. The Cuban­ American daughter of two labor union organizers, Alvarez had also seen her mother transition into academia, which made it feel familiar and accessible.

It hasn’t always felt inviting and inclusive, however. “I was constantly fighting to legitimize the ways that I danced, and the ways that I moved, and the things that I was interested in studying,” she says. When it came to exploring social dance practices outside of ballet and modern and how she wanted to move through the world as an artist, Alvarez says, “I found myself having to really push back and advocate and argue with people that it mattered.”

After she graduated, Alvarez focused on art and activism the way she envisioned it. After some early adjunct-teaching gigs in dance departments, she shifted her focus to cultivating her own work, accepting occasional guest-choreographer and visiting-artist opportunities instead. “It felt like the field wasn’t ready yet,” she says.

Years later—after carving her own path, building a thriving company, and receiving recognition for her work—she found the job opening at UCSD. “It literally was describing who I am as an artist,” she says. “When I got the job description, I was like, ‘I think they’re ready.’ ”

She’s so glad they were. “I’ve always had deep, deep love for learning, deep love for teaching, deep love for inquiry and curiosity,” she says. “So much of my own artmaking practice is about asking questions and grappling with the world, and there is no better place to be doing that than inside of a university.”

Making Way for New Stories

Alvarez’s parents instilled in her a drive to make the world “a better, more loving, and just place,” she says, and she wanted to do it through movement. “I have a deep belief that choreography is community organizing,” she explains. “You’re imagining and creating worlds, and you’re redefining the ways in which we think about the world and think about ourselves within the world.”

That, in an oversimplified nutshell, is the philosophy she brought with her to UCSD at a moment when the “Dance” part of the Theatre and Dance Department in particular was in transition. “I fell in love with the blank canvas that I saw,” she says, along with the students and colleagues she met. It gave her the freedom to start building something new.

In her first year, she taught courses on the politics of partnering, introduction to dancemaking, and what she calls “ancestral technologies,” exploring the wisdom of one’s ancestors embedded in social dance practices. She hired nearly a dozen new lecturers to teach classes in forms as diverse as traditional hula, flamenco, capoeira, Filipino folk dance, West African dance, Afro-Cuban dance, tap, jazz, contact improvisation, and more.

She also did a lot of listening, and heard a common refrain­ about people being isolated in their own silos. She established a weekly “Connection Jam” where anyone and everyone is welcome. “We’re gonna get down, we’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sweat, and we’re gonna move together,” Alvarez says. “We’re gonna practice joy.”

Another new tradition has all the technique classes gather at the end of the quarter to share what they’ve been doing with their peers. It was so popular the first quarter they did it, in a small black-box theater, that they moved to the Epstein Family Amphitheater the next time around.

“Ana María’s presence in the department is wholly inspiring and palpably positive, and she has forged a strong sense of community,” says faculty member Jade Power-Sotomayor, explaining that Alvarez led the way in cleaning out the dance office and putting up new posters all over the building, “literally making way for new bodies and new stories.”

Connecting Campus and Company

The new role at UCSD came with a serious commute and a major balancing act. Alvarez still lives in Los Angeles with her family and continues to work as an artist with CONTRA-TIEMPO and beyond. It’s only possible to juggle, she says, because CONTRA-TIEMPO horizontalized its leadership structure—with Alvarez as artistic director running the group with three other directors. She splits her weeks between campus and company and plans intensive projects for academic breaks.

There are no silos here, either. “Because I have this access and connection to a professional dance company that is making work, that is touring, that is running summer programs, that is doing regular local gigs,” she says, “my students also have access to that.” Early on, Alvarez invited company members to San Diego to lead a Connection Jam so her students could meet and engage with the pros. In recent months, Alvarez has been working with a group of students to explore and deepen the physical language of ¡azúcar!, her latest piece for CONTRA-TIEMPO, to culminate in a performance with other faculty choreography at Winter Works on March 15 and 16. When CONTRA-TIEMPO comes to UCSD to perform ¡azúcar! in April, those students will become the community cast that shares the stage with them.

“I’m just so excited to be anywhere she is,” says Norma Ovalle, who graduated last year but is participating in the process as an alum volunteer. “I didn’t necessarily grow up seeing that there’s a possibility for somebody like me to pursue this,” she says. But that changed when she met Alvarez. She’s now working toward an associate’s degree and a future in dance.

Coming up a few years behind her, Vrisika Chauhan, a junior­ who has a background in Indian classical dance and also didn’t always feel like she belonged, decided to declare dance as a second major. “My perspective on what dance is has truly shifted,” she says, thanks to Alvarez. “She has helped so many students, including myself, feel seen.”

The post Ana María Alvarez Redefines the Dance Program at UC San Diego appeared first on Dance Magazine.

With its blend of lyrical, modern, postmodern, and commercial dance, comp contemporary is full of possibilities. Here, three competition-dance educators share how they’ve seen the genre evolve.

The Origins of the Style

Most of the teachers and choreographers currently shaping competition dancers were students of two worlds: competitive dance and concert dance. Growing up in the competition scene, says judge and choreographer Chané Coleman Derden, “the closest I got to contemporary was lyrical”—a mix of ballet and jazz that often features an emotional interpretation of a song’s lyrics.

Many of these artists first immersed themselves in the concert-dance world in college. When Derden was at Sam Houston State University, “being able to study classic modern technique was exciting and very eye-opening for me,” she says.

The eclectic look of today’s competition contemporary reflects the diverse influences of the dance educators now working in comp spaces. They’ve studied everything from the full-bodied athleticism and emotional realism of Mandy Moore’s lyrical to the stylized walking patterns and nuanced gestures of Meredith Monk’s performance art. And their hybridized style has helped blur the line between comp kids and concert dancers, a line that was once difficult to cross.

A Continual Transformation

Comp contemporary is in a constant state of change. “For a few years contemporary seemed to go very conceptual, very sharp, and there was a lot of robotic music and movement,” says competition choreographer Amber Lewis. Now she’s seeing a shift toward more free-flowing movement alongside acrobatic tricks, floorwork, and detailed transitions. Those varied elements make the routines very exciting, she says.

College professor, choreographer, and competition judge Bekka Bennett has noticed athleticism and gestural motifs as current trends in contemporary. She’s also seen the incorporation of other popular dance styles. “The most interesting blending I’m seeing in contemporary dance is the heavy influence of hip hop, as well as the investigation of distorted acro in floorwork and partnering,” Bennett says.

Preparing Dancers to Compete in Contemporary

Dancers need to train in multiple styles to excel in comp contemporary. Acrobatic skills are increasingly important. “Head cartwheels, forward rolls, and headstands are easier to teach in an acro setting,” Lewis says. Derden believes strength training is particularly crucial for contemporary dancers. “Strong dancers have better endurance onstage and are able to try more with less risk of injury,” she says.

Artistically, comp contemporary is about being different, questioning traditional beliefs, and making the judges think. Bennett emphasizes the importance of play. A sense of curiosity and exploration “helps those simple moments, like walking or running, feel easier,” Bennett says. “Improv as much as you can to fully understand what movement is to you, and how you apply your humanity to your contemporary choreography.”

The post The Evolution of Competition Contemporary appeared first on Dance Magazine.

While dance is often considered inextricably linked to music, the absence of music can open a unique space for exploration. Three artists share their experiences and advice for dancing in works without music.

Tune In to Your Senses

Most dancers are accustomed to navigating a work through its music, whether planning complex movement patterns onstage or predicting a partner’s location leading up to a big lift. Without music as a guide, dancers instead often rely more on other senses, like sight, but they are still listening. Sam Black, Mark Morris Dance Group’s company director, suggests that the heightened sensations and subtle adjustments made while dancing in silence have a lot in common with what happens when performing with live accompaniment. Because live music varies slightly each time it’s performed, dancers have to adjust accordingly in the moment. “We’re always looking around, we’re always listening very closely to cues,” he says. “That is even more true in a piece where we don’t have musical cues or anything to listen to except each other’s breathing and footsteps.”

Connecting with your senses in a deep way is something that will likely take practice. Black recommends gathering a group of dancers and practicing walking across the floor together, shoulder to shoulder, focusing on tuning in to your own senses, as well as the energy of the group. “The only goal is to stay in line, just walking shoulder to shoulder across the studio,” he explains. “There’s no prescribed amount of time that it’s supposed to take, and you’re not walking in rhythm.”

Establishing a deep awareness of the sounds and placement of the other dancers can also help with distractions, which you may be more apt to notice in the absence of music. “If somebody is coughing in the audience, or if somebody sneezes or there’s rustling, you just have to remain in that super-focused space,” says Emilie Gerrity, a principal dancer with New York City Ballet. Incorporating a mindfulness practice focused on your senses can help make the process of tuning in easier come performance time.

Emphasize Artistry

Dancers also draw artistic inspiration from the music, such as dynamics and emotions. These still exist in silent works, but they might need a bit more accentuation without the aid of a score, Gerrity says. “Because there’s not that added element of music, you really have to draw your audience in,” she explains.

When rehearsing for Jerome Robbins’ Moves, which is performed in silence, Gerrity says it was helpful for her to remember the dynamics of a certain step or section through sensory-based cueing. She says the rehearsal director offered mental imagery as artistic inspiration, describing which moves felt “hot” in temperature, or which step felt like a “shock.”

Dancers can incorporate this strategy by asking their directors or teachers for insight into the intention or feeling of the work, or by taking time to explore it on their own. Black recommends practicing a simple phrase to different kinds of music, paying attention to the tones and feelings each song brings forth. Acknowledging and challenging these natural inclinations can be helpful when it comes to performing without music. “I do think it’s natural that music is an indication, often, of emotion or mood. But the opposite of that is: Just because something doesn’t have music doesn’t mean it’s devoid of feeling or emotion,” Black says.

Dance as One

While it’s always important to stay attuned to other dancers, dancing in a group without music makes this even more vital. “You have to stay on the same wavelength, the same breath pattern, the same energetic movement,” says Leslie Andrea Williams, a member of the Martha Graham Dance Company. “That requires not doing too much to stand out or be beyond the pack. It’s about feeling that collective energy.”

To practice moving as one, Williams recommends an exercise inspired by Graham’s Steps in the Street, which is partially silent. In a group of dancers, establish a rhythmic pattern each dancer can repeat to themselves mentally. (The Graham dancers use a syllabic pronunciation of “silent walks.”) Then, walk backwards with your eyes closed, using this particular beat—and the sounds you hear from other dancers—to guide your movements. “You try to create the sound—and then the silence in between—without looking at anyone,” she explains.

Black also recommends the group of dancers learns a simple movement phrase without counts. Then, covering or facing away from the mirrors, perform the phrase together, trying to stay in unison. Face different directions for an extra challenge. He says this exercise will help develop “the ability to key into what other people are doing. You have to be able to make real-time adjustments, but you’re so keyed into each other and so attentive that it actually ends up being easier because you don’t really have to do as much—it’s almost like catching the current and just riding on it.”

The post The Art of Dancing Without Music appeared first on Dance Magazine.

We’re still rooting for a “Best Choreography” category as dance continues to be an integral part to each year’s nominated films. But until then, we still enjoy seeing our beloved artform on the Dolby Theater stage.

“Wahzhazhe” from Killers of the Flower Moon

Eight Osage Nation dancers joined Scott George and the Osage Tribal Singers in a historic performance of “Wahzhazhe (A Song For My People)” from Killers of the Flower Moon. George made Oscars history as the first Native American to receive a nomination for best original song with “Wahzhazhe.” He is also the first member of the Osage Nation to be nominated by the Academy. 

As the dancers and singers followed the drum against a sunset backdrop, they invited the international audience to witness a simultaneously intimate and boundless celebration. A groundbreaking performance, it marked the first time members of the Osage Nation, or of any indigenous community, has danced on the Oscars stage.

“I’m Just Ken” from Barbie

It’s safe to say that the Oscars felt the “Kenergy” after Ryan Gosling and his ensemble of Kens took to the stage with Barbie’s tongue-in-cheek power ballad, “I’m Just Ken,” which was also nominated for best original song. The number, choreographed by Mandy Moore, featured several members from the film’s original cast, including Simu Liu and Kingsley Ben-Adir, and was complete with a kickline, unapologetic melodrama, cardboard cutout–ography, and on-the-nose references to Jack Cole’s choreography for “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.” Oh, and Slash.

Best Actress winner Emma Stone later pointed to the performance as the culprit behind her tearing her dress. (Don’t worry, Emma, we were dancing too.)

The “In Memoriam” Segment

A welcome surprise for some and an irritating visual distraction for others, this year’s “In Memoriam” tribute featured an ensemble of dancers that accompanied Andrea and Matteo Bocelli as they sang the former’s hit “Time to Say Goodbye.” This was not the first time dance has appeared in the segment; in 1996, Savion Glover tapped to “Singin’ in the Rain” in a tribute to the late Gene Kelly, who passed away that year. This year’s performance included a subtle and touching moment for the late Chita Rivera, who died on January 30—a simple weight shift and slow-motion hip sway, facing Rivera’s photo on the projection screen. 

While the dancers brought stunning synchronicity and reverent artistry to Moore’s second choreographed work of the night, the performance has earned pushback from audience members who found them and the Bocellis distracting. 

The post The Most Memorable Dance Moments From the 2024 Academy Awards appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts have raised awareness about exclusionary practices in all kinds in dance, and the mainstream body-positivity movement has led to some progress—most noticeably impacting the dance world since the rise of social media. Yet sizeism remains an especially recalcitrant, systemic issue that continues to plague dancers worldwide.

The Roots of the Problem

“Sizeism is the idea that people in bigger or fat bodies are less worthy; they’re less capable,” explains TJ Stewart, an assistant professor at Iowa State University who researches stigmatized identities. “This connects to a broad and deep-seated value of hard work and individualism. The idea is that fat bodies don’t work hard, that they are lazy.” Even today, plus-size dancers often have to work harder to prove their value.

Sizeism is not a dance-specific issue. But while industries like fashion and media have been held more accountable in recent years, the dance world appears especially slow to adopt inclusive changes. Much of this can be tied to the fundamental role of the body in dance, and the notion that bigger bodies have a limited range of dance ability. A culture of extreme thinness has long dominated ballet and ballet-based styles in particular.

There’s also the insidious belief that larger bodies are solvable problems—again, not unique to the dance world, but notably prevalent within its perfectionist culture. “The dominant frame is that ‘You have a body that isn’t the way bodies should be, and you can change that. So if you don’t, any negative experiences you have are your fault,’ ” Stewart says.

Subtly Exclusionary

While overt size bias is still a problem in dance, today discrimination frequently happens in subtler ways. And when bigger bodies are included, they are often either tokens or afterthoughts.

In the summer of 2023, for example, Australian pop star Troye Sivan released a dance-centric music video to his single “Rush.” Fans across the world took to social media to ask: Where was the body diversity? Why were only ultrathin bodies represented?

Sivan eventually responded to the situation, and featured a somewhat more-inclusive array of bodies in his following music video. But while the “Rush” video wasn’t an outright fatphobic attack, it was evidence of an implicit form of sizeism: In dance, including bigger bodies often isn’t a priority until it becomes a public relations issue. “Fixing” that kind of crisis sometimes leads to tokenism, in which a small number of larger bodies (often just one) are included to ensure a level of applause, credit, or clout.

Steps Forward

That’s not to say progress has been nonexistent. A wave of trailblazers have led the charge to bring down sizeism. Amanda LaCount’s #breakingthestereotype movement has made her a prominent role model for plus-size dancers; Kameron Saunders’ standout performance on Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour earned public acclaim. Social media platforms have helped expose more dancers and dance fans to a wider array of talented dancing bodies, particularly in commercial dance.

Additionally, the fight for the art world to become more inclusive now has legislative oomph. A new law passed in New York City last year prohibits height or weight discrimination in employment, housing, and public accommodations, joining similar laws already on the books in Binghamton, New York; Madison, Wisconsin; San Francisco and Santa Cruz, California; Urbana, Illinois; and the State of Michigan.

Change From the Top Down

When it comes to sizeism in dance, the yo-yo of positive momentum and backwards thinking can make it difficult to figure out how to create lasting change. But many point to the dance world’s leaders—its teachers, choreographers, and directors—who hold outsized power when it comes to shaping expectations and norms.

“Eating disorders and depression and a lot of hate with yourself, that all [can start] within the studio,” says plus-size dancer Aisha Olemba, who recently danced on tour with SZA. Olemba shares that she shied away from dance until college, attributing that hesitation to “the outdated look of what I thought a professional dancer looked like.” Many like her have given up on dance altogether because of toxic messaging about what the size of a dancer “should” be. Eliminating weight talk in class, especially with young students, can help build a better foundation for dancers of all sizes.

Dancer Floyd Slayweather, whose credits include Lizzo and Saucy Santana, says that dance leaders need to consistently cultivate body diversity in classrooms, casting practices, and the industry as a whole, so that it becomes a new normal rather than a box to tick on a checklist.

“I wish that teachers were not looking at dancers of size as an anomaly, or just picking us out because they want to create a viral moment,” he says. To move past the tokenizing we-only-need-one mentality, “it has to be normalized,” Slayweather says. “If you’re going to stand on inclusivity, then you need to practice it.”

A Community of Kindness

As more plus-size dancers make inroads in the dance industry, they’ve found crucial support in each other. Olemba, Slayweather, and fellow dancer Collin Smith—a TikTok standout—all share similar stories about the transformative power that comes with being in a room of like-minded dancers.

Slayweather describes performing with a cast of larger dancers at the 2022 BET Awards as his own kind of Cinderella story. “Seeing a full cast of beautiful plus-size women and men—I still get emotional about it to this day,” he says. “To hug one another, to encourage each other, is an amazing feeling that I will take with me for the rest of my life.”

One of Olemba’s favorite memories is getting an influx of messages from other plus-size dancers after booking SZA’s tour. “Them coming to me and just saying how much they were proud of me just showed me through all those [hard] times…it made me want to push harder,” she says. “I realized that this is bigger than just me. I’m doing it for people who did not think that this was possible for someone that looked like them.”

And that influence extends beyond the dance world. Smith says that, as his profile has grown, he’s been overwhelmed by the effect his visibility has had on others, helping to create a broad-based community of kindness.

“That’s a motivating factor, to know that I’m making an impact and being an influence in some way,” Smith shares. “Just letting people know you can be exactly who you are, regardless of what you look like.”

The post What Will It Take For the Field to Become Truly Inclusive of Plus-Size Dancers? appeared first on Dance Magazine.

But there’s no doubting the rigor and penetration of his eye as he asks a dancer with a paintbrush to tackle his easel with “more velocity,” urges a couple to make a lift “sharp,” and encourages a leg into a clearer diagonal as the bustling number evokes kaleidoscopic images of the City of Light.

Later, in separate interviews, Kelly and Chavkin talk about Lempicka the show, Lempicka the artist—Chavkin knows many audiences likely won’t recognize Lempicka’s name, but suspects they will recognize her art—and their own collaboration on the musical. At times, they’re like he-said, she-said accounts of the same happy marriage. Below are a few excerpts from those conversations, edited for length and clarity.

On Lempicka’s Paintings

Kelly: There is so much movement—the way that curves move forward and backward, how diagonals are made in the body. And I think any dance person could see the épaulement in the paintings. I told them [Chavkin, Kreitzer, and Gould] that épaulement is the central movement language to begin any choreography for this work.

Chavkin: He explained to us what “épaulement” meant, and it was, “Oh, my god, that’s it—we were meant for you, and you were meant for us!”

On Storytelling With the Body

Kelly: I’m a postmodernist, and I am a contemporary dancer. I have to use everything I’ve learned to find a new language—I have to use postmodernism, I have to use lyrical, I have to use jazz. And I’m always going to tell a story, no matter what.

Chavkin: When I first encountered [the theatrical training technique] the Viewpoints in college, I was like, “Oh! I get how to do this!” I get that story is communicated through the body, through the physical state of the performer, through the physical state of the stage, and tension and line—all of the things that are absolutely principles of dance but that are also principles of staging.

On Working Together

Kelly: What’s exciting for me is that now, in 2024, she really does trust me. We’ve been doing it for almost eight years, and I think she trusts my understanding of the show. I tend to take care of the ensemble, and she leaves me to do that. Then we come together, and we note each other. Sometimes I’m offering her behavior for scenes, because I love for it to blend—so that the show doesn’t go from scene to dance. So that the whole show is alive with the same behavior. It can’t happen unless we’re working both in tandem and also separately, because we might have a different point of view on something. I’m certainly not a choreographer that just makes dances.

Chavkin: There’s a dance that every single director-choreographer team does once they get to know each other. Raja and I had the necessary luxury of many years and multiple incarnations of this project to figure out whose territory is whose. What’s been so exciting and so helpful is I tend to think in large movement of bodies and energy in the space—where do we need chaos, where does it need to be more stable, et cetera, et cetera. And Raja is so exquisite on human specificity and detail. It’s a big-picture/intimate-picture kind of dialogue between us. He gives it more shape, more line, further articulation. It’s so satisfying when you meet someone who can pick up what you’re putting down.

The post Raja Feather Kelly and Rachel Chavkin on <i>Lempicka</i> the Show and Lempicka the Artist appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Company: Houston Ballet

Age: 21

Hometown: Indianapolis, Indiana

Training: Dance Creations Academy, Houston Ballet Academy, Houston Ballet II

Destination Houston: Best bonded with Houston Ballet during his first summer intensive there in 2018. “I improved so much and made so many friends. I felt this is a place where I can grow and learn,” he says. During his next summer, in Los Angeles at a Debbie Allen Dance Academy intensive, he met guest teacher Lauren Anderson, who is Houston Ballet Academy’s associate director of education and community engagement. “She said, ‘Oh, you need to get back to Houston, like, right away.’ So I did.”

Quick rise: After joining Houston Ballet II in 2021, Best apprenticed with the main company in 2022, and sailed into the corps in 2023. After a flurry of lead roles, he was promoted to soloist at the beginning of the season, a time he describes as “taking that leap of faith and going along for the ride. I’ve surprised myself with what I was actually capable of doing and because of Stanton [Welch] and Julie [Kent]’s support and faith in me.”

Midsummer doubleheader: Houston audiences got to know just how much Best was capable of when he landed major roles—Lysander and Puck—in both casts of John Neumeier’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the start of this season.

What the co-artistic directors are saying: “Eric has such physical intelligence, his mind–body connection is extraordinary,” says Julie Kent. “There’s a divine quality to his dancing. Also, he looks great at every angle.” Stanton Welch shares that “Eric is a phenomenal talent. He is so musical, and brings such detail to my ballets. I get to choreograph without limit, and he makes me want to be a better choreographer.”

Speaking the same language: Best’s affinity for Welch’s intricate choreography comes through in the growing list of Welch’s ballets he’s performed thus far. “Now I can go into his new works knowing what he’s going to bring and what he’s looking for,” says Best. “I just try to come in with the same energy, ready to work.” Clear, originally created after 9/11, made a profound impact on Best. “Every time I watch this ballet or I perform it or rehearse it, I always find something new that ties to the narrative of it.”

Beyond dancing: Best loves drawing and sketching. “Mostly self-portraits, people, sometimes superheroes. I’m very passionate about art and would like to take more classes,” he says. “I always want to make sure that I keep doing the things that interest me besides dance.”

The post Meet Houston Ballet Soloist Eric Best appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Béjart, who played the role of The Poet (who directs the characters, who largely rebel against him), said of it, “It’s a difficult ballet because it’s not story. It’s visions, and sometimes so many visions happen in so little time in so many different places on the stage that you cannot absorb all of them at one sitting….It’s constructed like a movie, more or less, and like a symphony….The dream is coming and, more and more the dream is destroying the structure of classical music and classical ballet, as though dream and the subconscious are stronger than the rigid structure of ballet, and they destroy it….But the real story of the ballet is the fight between the creator and the interpreter. When it starts, [dancer Jorge] Donn and I are both sitting, like fighters, in the ring which is made from broken classical ballet barres. It’s a fight.”

By Stoop’s estimation, in addition to Donn as the Hero (who “is many personalities, including a rock singer and a clown and, at the end, becomes born again as the Poet”), the characters in that “fight” also included a young girl, a wife, novelist George Sand, Dionysius, Zarathustra, Pegasus, an eagle, a serpent, three Muses, a group of rugby players, and some motorcyclists. And, Stoop concluded the list, “There’s a great deal of death around, too.” 

The post TBT: Maurice Béjart’s “Difficult” Ballet <i>Dichterliebe</i> appeared first on Dance Magazine.

The Oscars and dancemakers don’t have the easiest relationship. Although many of the films nominated inevitably include dancing, there’s no award for choreography. The past year has shown what may be the first signs of change: In March of 2023, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, which presents the Academy Awards, created a new Production and Technology branch, which will house choreographers admitted to the Academy. (That number, however, remains very small—with last year’s addition of Fatima Robinson, it’s not even at double digits.) In 2025, the Academy will add an Oscar for casting, a development that could set a precedent for choreographers. And as of last month, IMDb started recognizing “choreographer” as a primary profession.

Hopefully, dancemakers will soon be able to chassé onto the Dolby Theatre stage to collect a golden statuette of their own. In the meantime, we’ll recognize their work here.

Barbie, Choreographed by Jennifer White

In an interview, director Greta Gerwig said that she fought hard to keep the “I’m Just Ken” dream ballet in Barbie. “I was like, ‘If people could follow that in Singin’ in the Rain, I think we’ll be fine,’ ” Gerwig reportedly said.

Gerwig has a good dance track record: For her 2019 film Little Women, she turned to choreographer Monica Bill Barnes. For Barbie, she broughton London–based choreographer and movement director Jennifer White, with associate choreographer Lisa Welham. White, who has a long list of film, music video, and stage credits, strikes the perfect balance of wittiness and whimsy in Barbie’s dream ballet and its earlier “Dance the Night” number.

Barbie is nominated for eight Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor (Ryan Gosling), and Best Supporting Actress (America Ferrera). It is available to stream on Max, and to rent or buy on Amazon’s Prime Video and Apple TV.

The Color Purple, Choreographed by Fatima Robinson

The Color Purple is a full-fledged movie musical: Its choreography, by Fatima Robinson, isn’t relegated to just one or two scenes. Based on the stage musical, which in turn is based on Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize–winning 1982 novel, the film follows Celie, a Black woman living in the rural American South in the early 1900s. Her long journey to empowerment is driven by strong female friendships and her bond with her sister. (The book was first adapted for film in 1985 by Steven Spielberg.)

Dance is everywhere in this movie: on the walk to church, in a crowded street, at a juke joint. Throughout, Robinson’s years of experience choreographing for major musical artists—Beyoncé, Britney Spears, Rihanna among them—shine through. The dancing is a blend of social dances from the film’s era, African forms, hip hop, and musical-theater–style movement. 

The Color Purple is nominated for Best Supporting Actress (Danielle Brooks). It is available to stream on Max and to stream or buy on Amazon’s Prime Video and Apple TV.

Maestro, Choreographed by Justin Peck

Leonard Bernstein’s collaboration with Jerome Robbins is the stuff of legend: It produced West Side Story, On the Town, and works for New York City Ballet, including Fancy Free and Dybbuk. So it’s only fitting that Maestro, the Bernstein biopic starring and directed by Bradley Cooper, includes dance.

In a dreamlike dance scene choreographed by Justin Peck (with Craig Salstein as associate choreographer), Cooper and Carey Mulligan, playing Bernstein’s wife-to-be, Felicia Montealegre, watch a version of Fancy Free onstage that melts into an original dance number, which they become a part of. The list of dancers includes NYCB’s Harrison Coll and Sebastián Villarini Vélez, and freelancers Gaby Diaz, Benjamin Freemantle, and Jeanette Delgado. Peck is often called a creative descendent of Robbins; after choreographing 2021’s West Side Story, this feels like a natural progression.

Maestro is nominated for seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Actor (Cooper), and Best Actress (Mulligan). It is available to stream on Netflix.

Poor Things, Choreographed by Constanza Macras

Poor Things, director Yorgos Lanthimos’ feminist abstraction of Frankenstein,stars Emma Stone as Bella Baxter, a grown woman reborn with the mind of a child. In a Victorian-era restaurant, Stone (who honed her dancing chops in La La Land and Broadway’s Cabaret) finds herself drawn to the music and takes to the dance floor. Rather than imitate the couples around her, she finds her own, intuitive movement style. For a while she’s joined by her lover, played by Mark Ruffalo, but, ultimately, she wants to dance on her own—a choice that helps further the film’s plot.

The scene is choreographed by Constanza Macras, a Berlin-based dancemaker who runs the dance and theater company DorkyPark and recently staged a production of Carmen for Switzerland’s Theater Basel. She first worked with Lanthimos on his 2018 The Favourite, whose dance scene also delightfully defies convention.

Poor Things is nominated for 11 Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Actress (Stone), and Best Director (Lanthimos). It will be available to stream on Hulu starting on March 7.

The post The Best Dance in This Year’s Oscar-Nominated Films appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Morris became interested in cooking as a teenager, helping out his widowed mother. Years of traveling and touring have served to develop his passion. “I can do Indonesian, I can cook a Spanish meal, I can cook Italian food, French food…Chinese I’ve just been starting to get kind of good at,” says Morris. When asked if his approach to cooking has any similarities to his approach to choreography, he answers cheekily, “In that I’m very, very good, yes.” Morris adds that though cooking takes less time than making a dance, they both have ephemeral results. “You cook for hours or days, and then everyone eats it in five minutes,” says Morris. “Same with a dance. I work on it for years, and you’re done in 20 minutes. It’s both true and a joke at the same time.”

Ingredients
Yield: 6 servings

• 5 tbsps canola oil or peanut oil
• 6 whole cardamom pods (black or green)
• 6 whole cloves
• 1 cinnamon stick or 3/4 tsp ground cinnamon
• 3 chili peppers, split in half (jalapeño or Thai, with heat level to taste)
• 1 tbsp grated ginger
• 3 medium red onions or 5 shallots, thinly sliced
• 6 cups any mixed vegetables, cut into about 3/4-inch chunks (Morris recommends any combination of sweet potatoes, eggplant, peas, long beans, pumpkin or squash of any kind, potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, and bell peppers.)
• 5 fresh curry leaves
• 3 cups water
• salt (to taste)
• 3 cups unsweetened
  coconut milk
• 1 tsp peppercorns (red, black, or white), crushed

Instructions

1. Heat the oil in a large saucepan or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the cardamom pods, cloves, and cinnamon, and stir. After approximately 30 seconds, add the chili peppers, ginger, and onions. Sauté, stirring, until the onions are soft and translucent, about 3 minutes.
2. Add the mixed vegetables, curry leaves, water, and a generous pinch of salt. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and cook until the vegetables are cooked through, about 15–20 minutes.
3. Add the coconut milk and crushed peppercorns. Simmer on very low heat (to avoid curdling) for about 2 more minutes.
4. Serve the stew with rice or papadam (an Indian flatbread made from bean flour).

The post Mark Morris Shares His “Stone Soup” Kerala Vegetable Stew Recipe appeared first on Dance Magazine.

I always try to reflect all my experi­ences, and my way of seeing flamenco, when I am choreographing. I want students to be able to capture and see in the creative process how I feel about flamenco, because since I was a very young child it has been a way of life for me. I always remember my homeland of Granada and my teachers in everything I create.

Working with the musical accom­panists is a joint effort. I give my ideas to the musicians and they give me theirs and thus begins the teamwork for choreography.

Improvisation is central to flamenco. I try steps and choreographic material with the dancers until the desired result is found. Improvisation with musicians is also important because, depending on what they contribute, different choreographic ideas also emerge.

Emotion for me is essential, and I try to make it present in all my choreography.

Expressiveness of the face should come naturally, it’s not something that can be learned or practiced. It is important to imbue the choreography with feelings and the personality that distinguishes each one of us.

When working with students at the university, I begin by focusing on the palo [musical form of flamenco] we’re going to choreograph. I look for something with a similar origin that’s already within the students’ realm of understanding, to capture the essence of the land where the palo originates from. I have choreographed to Tangos de Granada and Alegrías de Cádiz, and I’ve tried to ensure that the essence of those two cities, Granada and Cádiz, is reflected in the choreography and interpretation.

It is important never to see yourself as an island and to seek input and inspiration from those around you. I often go and see the work of my colleagues.

Preparing to work outside flamenco, first I listen to the music that I will interpret. Since I am not in my natural environment, I need to identify and become familiar with it. I then go to the studio and start choreographing. I also seek feedback and advice from dance experts outside the project.

As a professional my schedule is often hectic, but the spontaneity of creation arises at any time because, as an artist, I am always restless.

The post Iván Vargas on Creativity and Inspiration in Flamenco appeared first on Dance Magazine.

By day, Pehrson is an executive assistant. Evenings and weekends, she’s a dance class devotee: She typically takes six days a week, and has participated for decades in Wildish’s showcases.

She doesn’t take these opportunities for granted.

“A lot of people think that they’re too old to perform,” she says. “There’s that stigma about, ‘Well, past a certain age, why would you want to do it?’ Or ‘Who would want to see it?’ ”

But Wildish and a growing number of other teachers and organizations are offering adult recreational dancers a chance not only to take class but also to get onstage—whether­ they danced as kids and want to continue after high school or college without pursuing dance professionally, or came to dance as beginners in adulthood.

A Chance to Dance

Anyone who finds joy in dancing and performing should have the outlet to do it, says Wildish, who danced with New York City Ballet and American Ballet Theatre. “I want to make it possible for others to experience those moments,” she says. “It’s important that that doesn’t die because you’re over 18.”

Allison DeBona—a former first soloist at Ballet West, who runs the artÉmotion adult summer ballet intensive with her husband, former Ballet West principal Rex Tilton—agrees. “There’s still this idea that if you are not on a professional company stage, you are not worthy,” she says. “We all need to move past this.”

And the landscape, it seems, has started to shift. In addition to Wildish’s showcases, there are now several adult intensives and workshops—including at artÉmotion in Salt Lake City and with companies like New York City Ballet, San Francisco Ballet, and Louisville Ballet—that culminate in performances. There are adult recreational companies—such as Kathy Mata Ballet in San Francisco, which recently celebrated its 35th anniversary, and DanceWorks in New York City and Boston. There are adult-focused schools, like Rae Studios in San Francisco, that incorporate performances into their offerings. And there are other one-off opportunities.

DeBona was happy to see so many Ballet West Academy students and alums attend last summer’s artÉmotion adult-intensive performance and leave feeling inspired. “They’re all facing that time where it’s like, ‘I’m auditioning, but I might not get a job. What does that mean for me? Is this over?’ ” she says. Seeing the adults onstage in a high-quality production signaled that no matter what happens, there’s still a place for them to dance and perform.

Adult recreational performance opportunities are also transformative for those who never thought there was room for them in dance to begin with. “My idea of who could and couldn’t do ballet was very warped as a kid,” says Janay Lee, 25, an au pair who’s participated in the artÉmotion intensive the last two summers. For a long time, Misty Copeland was the only brown ballerina she knew of—none of the other stars she saw looked like her. Growing up in Raleigh, North Carolina, she did some dance at school and church, but didn’t start taking ballet until she was 18. “It’s like one of those dream careers that I never quite pursued.”

The chance to perform sends an important message. “It feels like your art is being taken seriously, I think, even if that art is recreational,” Lee says. “When you work so hard at something, it’s nice to get to show it off every once in a while.”

A Growth, and Bonding, Experience

Jessica Rae, who founded Rae Studios in San Francisco to make dance accessible to adults, added showcases in recent years because “the natural progression for a student is to have a final end goal,” she says. It seems obvious for an amateur runner signing up and training for a race, she says, and the same should go for dance. “It also creates the urge of, like, ‘Okay, I want to get back in the studio and train more.’ ”

That rings true for Corina Chan, 61, who started taking ballet with Kathy Mata at 37 and also does hip hop and heels classes at Rae Studios. She sees performances as an excellent way to apply what she’s learning in class. “I love being able to do things I didn’t think that I could do,” says Chan, a semi-retired small business owner and mom of three. She says being onstage has shaped her not only as a dancer, but also as a person. “Performing teaches me to be in the moment,” she says. “It builds fortitude and persistence.”

There’s something terrifying about putting yourself onstage, says Emma Melo, 50, a preschool program coordinator and arts teacher who danced in college. She started taking classes again at Louisville Ballet after watching her daughter there and deciding she’d rather be dancing than sitting in the lobby. “I hate that thundering-heart feeling. But I also feel like I need to feel that sometimes,” she says, in order to challenge herself. “You can’t grow that way just by going into a studio and taking class.”

Over the last several years, Melo has performed with fellow adults in the school’s spring shows, at the adult intensive, and even in the main company’s production of Coppélia. “It’s always been such a bonding experience to work with other people to create something, and then share in that experience of the risk of taking it live,” she says.

An Open Invitation

The sense of community that comes with making a shared commitment to a rehearsal process and performance is a major draw for many adult dancers. At DanceWorks, community is enshrined as part of the mission: The group’s number-one core value is to “know each other’s name,” says executive director Betsy Moran. “It creates a space that is really welcoming to all different types of dancers and all different types of people.”

And acknowledging the existence, needs, and desires of these dancers—who are neither kids nor professionals—might force the dance world to ask some questions that are deeply entwined with other conversations about diversity and inclusion.

“We are expanding who can be a dancer and what dance is,” Melo says. “Adults can be part of that picture.”

The post Why the Rise in Performance Opportunities for Adult Recreational Dancers Matters appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Comings & Goings

Béjart Ballet Lausanne has terminated the contract of artistic director Gil Roman, effective April 30.

Wen Wei Wang will step down as artistic director of Ballet Edmonton at the end of the current season. He will be succeeded by Kirsten Wicklund, effective in August.

Vicki Capote, Sara Roer, and Candace Thompson-Zachery have been named co-executive directors of Dance/NYC.

Cara Lonergan has been appointed executive director of BalletCollective.

Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts president and CEO Henry Timms will depart the organization in August.

Royal Ballet principal Alexander Campbell will give his final performance with the company on March 8. He has been appointed artistic director of the Royal Academy of Dance, effective in April.

Guillaume Côté will retire from the National Ballet of Canada in June 2025.

Minnesota Dance Theatre, led by Elayna Waxse since January (after taking over from interim artistic director Kaitlyn Gilliland), will pause operations of its performing company at the end of May. The company’s affiliated school will continue.

The Cowles Center in Minneapolis will cease operations of the Goodale Theater, discontinuing dance presentations, on March 31.

Awards & Honors

Jawole Willa Jo Zollar will receive the 2024 Samuel H. Scripps/American Dance Festival Award, which includes a $50,000 prize, in July.

Recipients of Foundation for Contemporary Arts’ 2024 Grants to Artists awards included Petra Bravo (Dorothea Tanning Award), Joanna Kotze, and Hsiao-Jou Tang (Viola Farber Award). Each will receive a $45,000 unrestricted grant.

Michael Manson (House of Jit) is part of the inaugural cohort of the Gilbert Family Foundation’s Seed and Bloom: Detroit program, through which he’ll receive a $150,000 grant over a three-year residency as well as additional institutional support.

At the Venice Biennale, Cristina Caprioli will receive the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement, Trajal Harrell the Silver Lion.

Faye Driscoll won an Obie Award for direction for Weathering at New York Live Arts.

The post News of Note: What You Might Have Missed in February 2024 appeared first on Dance Magazine.

The judging panel is not all that’s new. After the auditions round, 10 dancers will compete in challenges intended to reflect a freelance commercial-dance career, such as performing in music videos, football halftime shows, or Broadway numbers—a departure from dancing on a soundstage in short routines of rotating styles, the show’s signature. Rather than audiences voting live for their favorite dancers (filming reportedly began in Atlanta, rather than in Los Angeles as in previous years, in early December), eliminations will be entirely up to the judges.

Perhaps the most eyebrow-raising facet of the show’s new format: While in previous seasons, short, behind-the-scenes packages of rehearsal footage and interviews introduced each routine, this season “viewers will get a documentary-style inside look at the contestants’ dynamics, following them throughout the competition as they go through their personal and competitive journeys, including the daily struggles, new relationships, personality clashes and more,” according to a release. What will the seemingly more “reality TV” angle mean for the dancers on the show, and will the winning competitor’s title still be “America’s Favorite Dancer” with voting seemingly out of the audience’s hands? Fans will have to tune in on Fox (or the day after on Hulu) to find out. 

The post “So You Think You Can Dance” Season 18 Kicks Off With a Slew of Changes appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Paxton’s dancing—with his loose limbs, swerving spine, and charismatic aura—was magnificent to behold. In her book Terpsichore in Sneakers, Banes describes him as projecting “a continuing sense of the body’s potential to invent and discover, to recover equilibrium after losing control, to regain vigor despite pain and disorder.” His dancing body was an elucidation of his ideas.

Judson Dance Theater grew out of Dunn’s composition class. From 1962 to 1964, Paxton and a group that included several of Dunn’s other students—Rainer, David Gordon, Trisha Brown, Rudy Perez, Deborah Hay, and Elaine Summers among them—collectively produced a series of 16 numbered concerts, many of them at the Judson Memorial Church.

These concerts marked a historical moment when (portions of) modern dance transformed into postmodern. At the time, Paxton thought of Judson as a place where you could not worry about big entertainment in big theaters and instead just do stuff. Rather than thinking he was doing something revolutionary, Paxton located himself in the lineage of modern dance tradition. In a recent Pillow Voices podcast about Grand Union, he says that modern dance—Graham, Limón, Cunningham, Humphrey, Dunham—gave permission to create new forms “from the ground up.”

Yvonne Rainer wrote about his work at Judson in her memoir, Feelings Are Facts:

Steve’s was the most severe and rigorous of all the work that appeared in and around Judson during the 1960s. […] Eschewing music, spectacle, and his own innate kinetic gifts and acquired virtuosity, he embraced extended duration and so-called pedestrian movement while maintaining a seemingly obdurate disregard for audience expectation.

One of the landmark pieces that came out of that aesthetic, which celebrated the untrained human body, was Paxton’s Satisfyin Lover. In it, a large group of dancers simply walked, stood still, or sat on a chair. Jill Johnston wrote this now famous passage in The Village Voice:

And here they all were […] thirty-two any old wonderful people in Satisfyin’ Lover walking one after the other across the gymnasium in their any old clothes. The fat, the skinny, the medium, the slouched and slumped, the straight and tall, the bowlegged and knock-kneed, the awkward, the elegant, the coarse, the delicate, the pregnant, the virginal, the you name it, by implication every postural possibility in the postural spectrum, that’s you and me in all our ordinary everyday who cares postural splendor. […] Let us now praise famous ordinary people.

At the end of the ’60s, Paxton was working with Rainer on her piece Continuous Project—Altered Daily, which changed with every performance. Rainer had given the dancers—Paxton, Gordon, Douglas Dunn, Barbara Dilley, and Becky Arnold—so much freedom that the choreography eventually blew open, obliterating all planned segments. After a period of uncertainty, the group then morphed into the Grand Union, an improvisation collective with no leader. It was then augmented by Trisha Brown, Nancy Lewis, and Lincoln Scott.

“Grand Union was a luxurious improvisational laboratory,” Paxton said in Dance Magazine’s June 2004 issue. “All of us were very formally oriented, even though we were doing formless work.”

When Grand Union was engaged for a residency at Oberlin College in 1972, Paxton taught a daily class at dawn that included “the small dance.” Nancy Stark Smith, then a student, loved it. “It was basically standing still and releasing tension and turning your attention to notice the small reflexive activity that the body makes to keep itself balanced and not fall over,” she once said. “You’re not doing it, but you’re noticing what it’s doing.” This concept of noticing interior movement became foundational for contact improvisation.

Although Paxton is called the “inventor” of contact improvisation, he pointed to the mutuality of the form. It’s “governed by the participants rather than by a leader, similar to the structure of Grand Union,” he said.

Contact improvisation attracted thousands of people who wanted to move—and move with other people—but who did not want to train to be concert dancers. Paxton was involved in contact improvisation, often with Smith, for 10 years.

Then he started developing his solo works, including his improvisations to Bach’s Goldberg Variations from 1986 to the early ’90s. He went on to develop “material for the spine,” which he described in Dance Magazine as “what the spine is doing in that tumbling sphere with another person—a kind of yogic form, a technique that focuses on the pelvis, the spine, the shoulder blades, the rotation of the head.”

Paxton collaborated with Lisa Nelson, his life partner and fellow improviser extraordinaire, on two entrancingly improvised duets: PA RT (1978) and Night Stand (2004). He gave workshops all over the U.S. and in Europe. While he wasn’t a warm and fuzzy teacher, he was thrillingly articulate. He never faked enthusiasm. And he was trusted completely by colleagues from the ’60s—Trisha Brown, Yvonne Rainer, Simone Forti, and Cunningham dancer Carolyn Brown—in a way that I would call pure love.

Paxton always opted for the organic, close-to-nature option. Toward the end of his life, he spent much time in his garden in Vermont. In a talk at the Judson Dance Theater exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in 2018, when asked about his life at that time, he said: “Every atom in the landscape in front of me that I look at every day is changing…I feel like it’s a living soup and I’m…kind of dissolving into its space.” He has now completed his dissolution.

Read an expanded version of this post here.

The post Steve Paxton (1939–2024): A Lifetime of Burning Questions appeared first on Dance Magazine.

A Lake of Nightmares and an Android Coppélia

ON TOUR  Les Ballets de Monte Carlo brings two twists on ballet classics by artistic director Jean-Christophe Maillot stateside this month. Lac, which probes Swan Lake’s inherent dichotomies, lands at New Orleans’ Mahalia Jackson Theater March 1–2. Coppél-i.A., which updates the narrative so the lovers’ relationship is threatened not by a lifelike doll but, instead, an artificial intelligence, follows March 7–10 at Segerstrom Center for the Arts in Costa Mesa, CA. balletsdemontecarlo.com.

Like Rabbits

NEW YORK CITY   A surreal contemplation of childhood attachments and the nature of desire, Pontus Lidberg’s On the Nature of Rabbits makes its North American debut at The Joyce Theater March 6–10. joyce.org.

Dismantling Classic Cinema

SAN FRANCISCO  How do the archetypal roles in classic genre films—the romantic lead, the hard-boiled detective, the femme fatale—shift when embodied by BIPOC performers? Kayla Farrish is joined by five other dancers and musician Alex MacKinnon to explore the question, pushing back against the erasure and marginalization of non-white actors in Hollywood’s golden age, in Put Away the Fire, dear, which premieres at ODC Theater March 8–10. odc.dance.

Eating Its Own Tail

CHICAGO  Ouroboros, a new evening-length dance-theater solo from Nejla Yatkin, draws inspiration from Middle Eastern snake dances and the choreographer’s nomadic ancestry. Set in the round, the work invites audience participation as it incorporates multiple languages and movement styles, all connecting to, in Yatkin’s words, “heal the sacred thread of the feminine.” March 8–10. ny2dance.com.

Statement Begins

VANCOUVER AND SURREY  Ballet BC’s NOW program features a pair of commissions—one from Micaela Taylor, the other by choreographic duo Out Innerspace (Tiffany Tregarthen and David Raymond)—alongside the return of Crystal Pite’s darkly political dance theater work The Statement. The program premieres in Vancouver March 7–9 and repeats in Surrey March 22–23. balletbc.com. 

Intimate and Explosive

NEW YORK CITY  Doug Varone’s two-part To My Arms/Restore plays with contrasts. The first half, set to a suite of Handel arias, evokes intimacy, love, and loss, while the second focuses on visceral, explosive physicality to the beats of Nico Bentley’s “Handel Remixed.” With live music by MasterVoices and New York Baroque Incorporated, the new evening-length premieres at NYU Skirball March 22–23. nyuskirball.com.

New at NW

PORTLAND, OR  Associate choreographer Joseph Hernandez, former Luna Negra Dance Theater artistic director Gustavo Ramírez Sansano, and independent dance theater choreographer Nicole von Arx each contribute a premiere to NW Dance Project’s spring program, Secret Stories. March 29–30. nwdanceproject.org.

Books on Broadway

Two page-to-stage adaptations sing and dance to the Great White Way.

The Notebook

Based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks and the blockbuster movie it inspired, the musical adaptation follows Allie and Noah as their love repeatedly brings them back together in spite of the forces trying to keep them apart. Katie Spelman (associate choreographer on Moulin Rouge! The Musical) choreographs to music and lyrics by Ingrid Michaelson. Opens at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre March 14. notebookmusical.com.

Water for Elephants

A young man jumps on a train with no idea of its destination and finds himself swept away by a traveling circus. As in the novel by Sara Gruen, the adventure is recounted through the memories of the main character’s older self in the musical adaptation, which brings the circus to life through choreography by Jesse Robb and Shana Carroll (who also acts as circus designer). Opens March 21 at the Imperial Theatre. waterforelephantsthemusical.com.

The post 9 Performances on Our Radar This March appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Edited by Anna Schneider and featuring contributions by a slew of top scholars, as well as collaborators and artists who have been inspired by Monk’s work, the book includes photography, drawings, notations, conversations with the artist, and previously unpublished archival material.

Its release is in conjunction with a career-encompassing exhibition by the same name currently on view at Munich, Germany’s Haus der Kunst and at Oude Kerk Amsterdam, together making up the first all-inclusive deep dive into Monk’s multifaceted and multidisciplinary work. The exhibitions run until March 3 in Munich and April 14 in Amsterdam, and the book, which will feature photos from the exhibition, is currently slated for release in May.

The post An Upcoming Book Continues Celebrations of Meredith Monk’s 80th appeared first on Dance Magazine.

As a single working mother, Mom’s dedication amidst the height of the 1970s feminist movement was resolute. The studio often became my sanctuary as she worked passionately for what felt like 24 hours a day. She and her colleagues were on a mission, inspired by Mr. Ailey’s fearless vision, on the verge of international flight. Their solidarity was palpable. It grounded me and many other aspiring artists in the New York dance community at the time.

Surrounded by dancers, from all over the globe—New York locals, talents from Baltimore, Brazil, Eastern Europe, Japan, and beyond—I found a surrogate family in the studio. As a child among them, my youth seemed to bring joy to many who were far away from home. The dancers became my guardians; they nurtured me and supported my development.

One of my most memorable guardians was Pearl Lang, who called me Strawberry Girl, because of my love for strawberry yogurt. Ms. Lang was a Martha Graham dancer who had her own company that my mother danced for at the time. She was also the co-director of The Ailey School alongside Mr. Ailey then, a powerful leading feminist voice in the modern dance movement.

Watching these dancers in their classes began to pique my curiosity. It was as if, through their unapologetic nature and fearless subtleties, they revealed unspoken stories. The more I watched, the more I learned. Their whispers became more tenable and refined. The power of this silent expression, and my developing understanding of unspoken narratives, started to awaken the artistry within me that seemed to transcend gender and race.

My witnessing during these early years laid the foundation for my artistic journey and identity. It anchored my practice in the profound humanity and activism that I saw through others. It evolved into a comprehension of human behavior, people at their most powerful moments and in their most vulnerable ones. It was through their silent eloquence that I began to understand the artistic language of the soul. It was not only seeing their development as artists that moved me deeply, but through watching their process as human beings. As I witnessed this personal process, they became the most beautiful human beings in my eyes. I can still see and feel them living out their dreams through integrity and perseverance, one day at a time.

The post Francesca Harper, Artistic Director of Ailey II, Shares How She Found a Surrogate Family in Dance appeared first on Dance Magazine.

CADD encouraged expansive awareness of space, of one’s body, of who dances, of what dance is for and what it can do—all grounded in Black diasporan experience and values. Binahkaye Joy’s presentation intrigued me the most. The Washington, DC–based force of nature identifies as “spatial architect, dancing mother, visionary space activator, fertility priestess, midwife, sacred nourishment practitioner, afrofuturist bush mother, ringshout synergist, and radiant superconductor of divine creation intelligence.” That’s not all: “…a budding astronomer…fascinated by the correlation between the birthing of stars and the creation of our fertility codes, Mother Mother is also a writer, sacred storyteller, communiographer, soft-time practice portal developer, fertile soundscape artist” and many other head-spinning descriptors.

What caught my breath, and my heart, was Joy’s uncomplicated pride in her body—“at the center of my labor”—as a place of generous size and overall generosity. Raising five children— her “munchkins,” with names like Jubilee and Luminous Glory—she regularly welcomes them into her dances. The film of her installation performance Elemental, features her either breastfeeding while dancing or wearing a baby pouch as she moves. No “solo” ever goes unvisited by a kid or two tripping through it, and the privacy of a bedroom, with its “birthing altar,” opens to public view as space for “honoring abundance and finding agency in it.”

Joy told us that as a child, she felt self-conscious because of her dark skin: “Am I beautiful enough?” What’s beautiful today—aside from, yes, that skin—is the way she opens minds and possibilities for dance artists and those of us who witness.

Scholar, educator, and artist Halifu Osumare, who offered the concluding keynote, advised us to “go beyond a limited consciousness,” citing cultural icons such as Star Trek’s Nichelle Nichols, musician Sun Ra, novelist Octavia Butler, painter Kerry James Marshall, and filmmaker Ryan Coogler. “Never forget our life blood is the ancestors,” she said. We must press ever forward with Black imagination and ingenuity in the spirit of hope.

“It’s important to creatively design our future,” Osumare said. “Black dance can be anything…that we are called to do.”

The post Place Matters: Exploring the Geography of the Body at the 2024 CADD Conference appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Jodie Gates is an all-too-rare figure in the dance world: an influential female leader. She began as a dancer at The Joffrey Ballet, Pennsylvania Ballet, Frankfurt Ballet under director William Forsythe, and Complexions Contemporary Ballet. Since retiring from the stage, she has built a resumé of unusually broad scope: a choreographer commissioned by Ballet West, The Washington Ballet, and others; founder and artistic director of the Laguna Dance Festival in Southern California; a professor of dance at UC Irvine; founding director and vice dean of the USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance; and artistic director of Cincinnati Ballet from August 2022 to September 2023. (In a statement, the company described her departure after 14 months as a “mutual decision.”) Here, she offers her perspective to other women leaders in the field.

When I was a dancer, the field was dominated by males. That said, Robert Joffrey gave us a lot of autonomy. The agency that we had at The Joffrey Ballet helped shape me; when I direct and curate, I see in myself what Robert and Bill Forsythe gave me. After I retired, I was one of the few female choreographers in ballet.

I believe that my motivation and tenacity over the years were fueled by the lack of female leadership. Women have a different perspective that has been excluded for decades, and it is only going to benefit the field moving forward to have varying opinions and perspectives. I wore the pointe shoes; I danced Giselle. I can pass it on. It gives female dancers someone to identify with.

I would love to see more females creating full-length ballets. I still don’t feel like these opportunities are there. Is it because there are not enough females interested in doing it? Perhaps, so I think we need to mentor and have a creative space for that. It’s imperative that we hear from women.

We need to recognize what harm has been done generationally, such as mentoring that young male dancer to be a choreographer, but not that female dancer. We need to really look at how we are in the studio with one another, the language we use, how we can bring a sense of humanity into the room.

When you’re in the role of leading, it’s a hard job. You have to manifest success while listening to everyone. I think women leaders are perhaps judged more harshly than our male counterparts. What I would like to see is more opportunities, more communication. I see more women leading in academia, and that is changing.

The stakes are high for women, but it’s okay to fail—it’s okay to make a dance and fail, or make a decision and fail, and take accountability for it. Be patient. Learning as you go is difficult. Mentorship is key—don’t be afraid of asking for help. Most importantly, lean on us—lean on the individuals who have a breadth of experience. That sisterhood is a place of belonging.

Maybe it’s up to me to open my arms and say, “I’m here.” I would love to be able to help the next generation of creative thinkers and leaders. In this season of my life, it’s about, How can I be of service to the field? To be truly impactful, it needs shape-shifters and change-makers to move it forward.

The post Director and Choreographer Jodie Gates Shares Her Advice for Female Leaders in Dance appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Four years of pandemic impact have wreaked havoc on the lives of professional dancers like Jaramillo, a member of Sydnie L. Mosley’s New York City–based collective SLMDances. Most dance organizations, whether commercial or nonprofit, have been on a financial roller-coaster ride, too, whose tracks parallel ups and downs in the U.S. economy as a whole. Multiple reports published since last summer have shed long-awaited light on the fiscal health of the country’s dance sector. What those numbers say isn’t simple to summarize.

“Part of each organization’s story is, How nimble was that organization and how able has it been to adapt?” says Kellee Edusei, executive director of national service and advocacy organization Dance/USA. Companies and schools willing and able to move activities outdoors, stream video performances, and offer virtual classes had likely restored at least a portion of their earned income by summer 2021. Meanwhile, those who waited until studios and theaters could reopen might’ve gone a full fiscal year—or more—without any ticket sales, tuition fees, or paid arts education contracts. Pandemic restrictions, which varied from state to state, tied the hands of some organizations’ leaders more tightly than others.

SMU DataArts, a primary source of research on trends in the nonprofit cultural sector, collected and synthesized information about more than 120 U.S. dance organizations from a four-year period, 2019 to 2022. One takeaway from its longitudinal observations is that, even when the changes in dollar amounts appear positive, adjustments for inflation erase most gains (and deepen losses).

“When organizations geared up for the return of regular levels of programming in 2022, their expenses were 2 percent higher than they were in 2019, but their real buying power was 11 percent lower,” says Dr. Zannie Voss, the Dallas-based research center’s director and a professor at Southern Methodist University’s Cox School of Business and Meadows School of the Arts. “Inflation doesn’t just have a very real impact on the core cost of producing or presenting,” she adds. “It also creates the kind of economic uncertainty that makes people not want to, or unable to, spend as much money as they once did.”

Along similar lines, percentage-based calculations might paint a rosier picture than is warranted of the financial health of dance organizations centering and led by people of color. “The average budget size of a non-BIPOC dance organization was three times that of a BIPOC organization in 2019,” says Voss, “and two and a half times that of a BIPOC organization in 2022. Those two cohorts had neither the same starting place nor the same endpoint, so any notion of a ‘leveled playing field’ is not the reality.”

The economics of touring and presenting, in particular, have changed significantly in recent years. Indira Goodwine-Josias, senior program director for dance at the New England Foundation for the Arts and director of its National Dance Project, says inflation, continued COVID-19 testing protocols, questions of access and inclusivity, and other factors have made touring more complicated for ensembles large and small. Unpredictable, sometimes painfully long waits for the U.S. government to approve visa petitions further complicate international travel, whether planned and paid for by presenters or dance companies themselves. “We have seen, for a lot of the presenters who don’t only present dance, some contractions,” says Sara Nash, dance director at the National Endowment for the Arts. “If, before the pandemic, they were bringing in five or six dance presentations a year, some of them pulled away from dance. And some have come back, but to fewer dance presentations than before.”

The U.S. government provided more than $50 billion to arts and entertainment entities through emergency, relief, and recovery programs, like the American Rescue Plan, Paycheck Protection Program, and Shuttered Venue Operators Grant. Now that those initiatives have largely run their course, Lane Harwell, senior program officer at the Ford Foundation, anticipates “further contraction of the dance field. Groups will continue to close, cut productions and staff, relocate, or pause operations.”

At the same time, Harwell says, financial pressures can foster innovation and prompt collaboration, at times within philanthropy, and “may create the conditions for new groups and artistry to emerge.” With responsive plans and agile leadership, Dallas Black Dance Theatre, Deeply Rooted Dance Theater in Chicago, LEIMAY in Brooklyn, ODC/Dance in San Francisco, and Rosy Simas Danse in Minneapolis became bright spots, sources say, on the U.S. dance map—organizations that weathered well the economic and social turmoil of recent years. The Ford-led America’s Cultural Treasures program, implemented alongside eight regional funding collaboratives, raised more than $275 million for nonprofits in dance and other creative fields beginning in 2020. The International Association of Blacks in Dance has had a numerically smaller but similarly distributed impact on the capacity of groups centering people and practices of African ancestry or origin.

Melanie George, assistant professor at Rutgers University and associate curator at Jacob’s Pillow, says that the coming months and years will be revealing. “There were a lot of public conversations like, ‘When we come back from this lockdown, we’re gonna do things differently,’ ” she says. “Institutions were saying it. Presenters were saying it. Funders were saying it. Artists took that to heart and are now like, ‘You said you wanted to do it differently? Well, here’s what it actually takes and costs for me to do what I would’ve compromised on before.’ ”

High-volume programming is expected of international festivals like Jacob’s Pillow, George says. But greater productivity is not necessarily the answer to every question. “We have not returned to what we were,” George says, “and certain very thoughtful organizations are talking about doing less and going deeper.”

Case Study: J CHEN PROJECT

How artist Jessica Chen’s company is making it work.

J CHEN PROJECT, primarily a vehicle for the creative work of New York City–based artist Jessica Chen, crossed a significant financial threshold at the start of 2024: its first annual operating budget with income and expenses greater than $50,000.

Chen says the company survived the past three years in part by being flexible about how its work is experienced. “We can’t go into the red renting theaters for every performance, so maybe we’ll work with a museum to perform in the lobby instead,” she says. “That’s not always ideal for my work, but I’ve tried to step back and ask myself, ‘What is the company’s mission? What is our role in this moment?’­ Let’s lean in to the unknown, which I think is what the pandemic forced all of us to do.” Chen adds that, because the company’s shows are now more frequently presented than self-produced­, more expenses are covered through commissions.

Inspired by the response from the audience, Chen has remounted her sold-out premiere from last March, AAPI HEROES: MYTHS AND LEGENDS, as an ongoing, once-monthly show. That long-term commitment has opened new fundraising doors and allowed Chen to guarantee her company members more pay and workweeks in advance. “My number-one priority is paying the dancers,” she says.

Data Points

Key findings from recent economic research on dance in the U.S.

SMU DataArts compiled information provided annually from 2019 to 2022 by 127 dance nonprofits based across the U.S. and found that:

• Private philanthropic support for dance fell 17% over that four-year period by dollar amount, and fell 27% once adjusted for the concurrent rate of inflation
• Dollars paid to performers exceeded the rate of inflation by 5% while dollars paid to administrative personnel exceeded the rate of inflation by 12%
• Ticket-sales revenue, adjusted for inflation,
  decreased 32% over the four-year period for dance organizations, versus a 66% decrease for theater organizations
• Donations from individuals comprised 30% of private support in 2022 versus 40% in 2019

Visit culturaldata.org to learn more.

Dance/NYC surveyed more than 1,600 dance workers and nearly 400 organizations in the New York City area and found that:

• Individuals made an average of $22 per hour, and 54% also held nondance jobs in order to make ends meet
• 56% of respondents had no savings or cash reserves and entities’ average budget size decreased 4% by dollar amount from 2019 to 2022
• Individuals worked an average of four jobs per year and 31% earned less than $25,000 per year
• 37% of individuals were salaried employees and 41% had worked without pay in the last year
• 64% self-financed and/or spent their own money to fund their dance work

Visit dance.nyc to learn more.

Dance/USA compiled the results of financial surveys completed annually from 2019 to 2023 by 12 member organizations—mostly major ballet companies—and preliminary results found that:

• The organizations earned 23% fewer dollars in 2023 through dance education and training programs than they did in 2019
• Total government support peaked in 2022 at 26% of total revenue, yet in 2023, it fell back to 4%—versus 3% in 2019
• Dollars earned through performance programs in 2023 were approximately 90% of 2019 levels, even with
  15% fewer performances, and continue to increase

Visit danceusa.org to learn more.

The post The Economics of Dance—Dance’s Future According to the Numbers appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Tacy’s experiences aren’t unusual, especially for dancers who are experiencing a dramatic ramp up in their activity level. Joshua Metzl, an orthopedic sports medicine physician at UCHealth Steadman Hawkins Clinic who works with dancers at Colorado Ballet, says that increasing the amount of time spent training—and the resulting potential for overuse—is the leading cause of plantar fasciitis among dancers.

What Is Plantar Fasciitis?

Plantar fasciitis is an inflammation of thick tissue on the bottom of the foot called plantar fascia. It often shows up in dancers as pain in the heel, especially when doing weight-bearing exercise. Metzl notes that it’s often most painful first thing in the morning, and symptoms can ebb and flow throughout the day.

In addition to a sudden increase in activity levels, plantar fasciitis can also be triggered by changes in footwear, like switching from pointe to flat shoes. The quality of the studio floor or performance surface can have an impact. Outside of the studio, walking more than normal and/or on different types of surfaces can lead to plantar fasciitis.

Although plantar fasciitis is common amongst dancers, there are other conditions that could be causing similar pain. Metzl explains that the bones of the feet could also be to blame, with common bone-related plantar fasciitis doppelgangers instead being calcaneal stress fractures and calcaneal apophysitis, an inflammation of the growth plate in a younger dancer’s heel. An X-ray can help determine the root cause of this kind of foot pain.

Treatment and Healing

Treatment for plantar fasciitis usually involves working with a physical therapist to establish a daily stretching and strengthening program for the plantar fascia, Metzl says, adding that if the condition is more chronic and doesn’t respond to initial treatment, an MRI, corticosteroid injection, and/or a platelet-rich plasma injection, which acts as a localized anti-inflammatory, might be used as well.

At the onset of symptoms, Tacy recommends taking over-the-counter anti-inflammatories to ease pain, as well as employing gentle massage techniques. She says that icing—either by simply applying an ice pack to the bottom of the foot or by gently rolling out the sole with a frozen water bottle—can be helpful.

It’s also important to be strategic about daily footwear. Metzl says wearing orthotics or arch supports in your shoes can relieve symptoms by off-loading pressure from the plantar fascia. Tacy found that choosing shoes with a wide toe, which better mimics the natural shape of the foot, proved helpful. In more severe cases, a walking boot might also be recommended. Although plantar fasciitis does not always necessitate time off from dance, don’t underestimate the power of rest to ease and prevent pain. “There’s a really great saying: ‘If you don’t choose when to rest your body, your body will choose for you,’ ” Tacy says.

It’s All Connected

When plantar fasciitis is severe, dancers might decide to modify their technique to mitigate pain. Although this might feel like a way to muscle through class or rehearsal, both Metzl and Tacy agree that this approach can cause more issues down the line. “The term we use in orthopedics is ‘kinetic chain’—all of these structures in the body are interconnected,” Metzl says. This means that untreated plantar fasciitis has the potential to lead to pain in other areas of the body, like the knees, calves, hips, and low back.

When Tacy was dancing professionally in New York City, she suffered a serious injury that sidelined her for months. Although the injury involved an accident with a set piece and wasn’t directly related to plantar fasciitis, she believes that imbalances caused by her foot pain were a contributing factor to injury severity and recovery time. “As soon as I graduated college and got my first job, lo and behold, the foot that was most affected by plantar fasciitis was the one that I injured,” she says. “Looking back, I can see how it’s all connected. If I had taken care of my plantar fasciitis and strengthened and healed my foot in the correct way, I don’t think that my injury later would have been as severe or would have needed as much care.”

Two Stretches for Plantar Fasciitis

Joshua Metzl, an orthopedic sports medicine physician who works with Colorado Ballet dancers, recommends these two stretches for dancers suffering from plantar fasciitis.

Calf stretch with a towel roll

1. Roll one edge of a towel.
2. Stand on the towel with one foot, with the rolled portion under your toes and metatarsal and the flat portion under your heel.
3. Assume a small lunge position, with the back leg straight and on the towel, and the front leg slightly bent.

FHL tendon glide

The flexor hallucis longus (FHL) tendon connects the calf to the big toe and plays a big role in pointing the toes and standing on pointe.

1. Place your feet flat on the floor.
2. Keeping the heel and ball of your foot in contact with the floor, lift the toes.

The post How to Identify and Treat Plantar Fasciitis appeared first on Dance Magazine.

With her elongated limbs and polished port de bras, Clark is a remarkably self-possessed dancer who uses her 5′ 10 1/2″ frame to fully inhabit every choreographic moment and musical note. She debuted in a slew of roles in 2023, including the Tall Girl in George Balanchine’s “Rubies” and the lead woman in Haieff Divertimento, which hadn’t been performed by NYCB since 1994. As more opportunities continue to come her way, Clark is determined to squeeze as much as possible out of each experience: “My overarching goal is always to continue growing—in my technique, my artistry, and my approach to new roles.”

Embracing the Unfamiliar
“I love exploring different movement styles, even if they’re not my forte. When I was rehearsing Justin Peck’s sneaker ballet The Times Are Racing, I had to tackle questions like ‘How does my weight need to be distributed differently in a sneaker versus a pointe shoe?’ or ‘How can I syncopate the steps and accent certain moments that reveal different aspects of the music?’ ”

Using Imagination as a Tool
“As an English major at Columbia University, I love storytelling. When preparing for a role, I imagine a character or story to inform my movement. Even for something plotless like Haieff Divertimento or ‘Rubies,’ there’s a certain flavor to each part. It’s helpful to think about steps in terms of analogies and images, ranging from moving my hands through water to embodying a strand of seaweed in the ocean.”

A Recurring Pinch-Me Moment
“Dancing Balanchine’s Serenade always feels like a career-reaffirming experience. I’ve performed it for many seasons, and every time, it hits me that I’m living in the tableau I dreamed of for so long. It’s such a community-based ballet, and one of my favorite things about this career is connecting with the dancers around me—they’re my best friends and greatest sources of inspiration. To dance as part of a group, especially in a ballet containing so much meaning and joy, will always be a highlight.”

The post New York City Ballet Dancer Christina Clark Is Celebrating Every Stage appeared first on Dance Magazine.

I’ve had to, and I still have to, overcome so many adversities in dance. But one thing I am proud of is that, no matter what happens, giving up has never been an option for me. As an artist you learn how to develop love, patience, space, and a deep understanding of why you do what you do.

How does dance make me feel? Is it even a feeling, or is it a moment, a dream, a reality? I only know that I am myself fully when I am onstage dancing. That’s where I feel safe and right at home.

As a Black Latina, immigrant, mother, and woman I carry so much culture and so many ancestors. I embrace all of them. They make me unique, and I bring them to my dance, making it unique.

Over the years my relationship with dance has changed drastically. There have been many ups and downs, disappointments and moments of great happiness, especially after becoming a mother. I can’t quite explain, but I feel more powerful when I am onstage, because onstage I can just be an artist. I don’t have to prove anything. Choosing this art form has given my life a new purpose.

Dance to me is connection, creativity, love, a way to tell a story, and that’s why I do it. But I also see dance as a type of transformation. I continue to expand my artistry on- and offstage. I’m working to change the future of dance.

The post Dance Theatre of Harlem’s Ingrid Silva Shares How She Feels Safe and at Home When Dancing Onstage appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Greta is not real. She’s the personification of the creative idea, as imagined by the Soles of Duende trio: Castro, Brinda Guha, and Arielle Rosales. Other times, a dancer might call out “parking lot,” to table an idea they don’t have time for, or “mangu,” which is the name of a mashed plantain dish and signals they’re too drained or overloaded to think clearly. 

Any group develops their own lingo after spending hours together. But for three dancers working in different physical languages—kathak (Guha), flamenco (Rosales), and tap (Castro)—this shared verbal lexicon streamlines the creative process. “They don’t share the same style, but they share the same kind of creative energy,” says tap dancer Jason Samuels Smith, who recently worked with the trio during a residency at the Chelsea Factory in New York City. “Some collaborations can feel forced. But with them, you feel the chemistry, you feel the camaraderie.” And at a moment when cross-cultural conversations can feel fraught, these artists are showcasing the power of embracing our differences.      

Distinct Voices in Harmony

Soles of Duende, or “Soles” as the dancers call it, started in 2016 when Guha and Rosales had an opportunity to perform at Dixon Place. The pair had met as colleagues at Broadway Dance Center and had already done a few projects together, and they wanted to weave in an additional percussive dance voice this time. “We needed a third sound so it wasn’t just a back-and-forth, but a conversation amongst a team,” says Guha. Then, at Run The Night, a commercial dance competition led by Jared Grimes, Guha watched Castro set the audience afire with a tap dance solo to an excerpt of “Winter,” from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. She knew she’d found their third voice.   

The first time all three gathered as a group was for a publicity-photo shoot for the piece they hadn’t begun rehearsing for yet. Still, the vibes flowed. “It was like we were all long-lost friends,” says Guha.

The work they created was a hit, and they were asked to perform it again…and again. “People want to see virtuosity in music and rhythm that doesn’t include machismo and competition,”­ says Guha. By 2018, Soles was back at Dixon Place as artists in residence creating the first iteration of their full-length work Can We Dance Here? That work has since become­ a calling card, with the latest version taking the stage at The Joyce Theater this January as part of the American Dance Platform. 

In the audience of that 2018 run was critic and curator Eva Yaa Asantewaa, who, wowed by their vivacity and generosity as performers, would later commission Soles for Gibney’s Spotlight Series in New York City. “I was completely won over, not only by their individual technical and aesthetic capabilities but also by the seamless, joyful way they blended these discrete percussive dance styles and energies,” she says.

Experimentation and Negotiation

In Soles’ work, the dancers sometimes “pass the mic” back and forth, and sometimes dance in unison. But much of the magic happens when they each tackle the same rhythm in their own style, showcasing just how many similarities live within their differences. “We hear music very similarly often, but the way we physically execute the step is very different,” Rosales says. To get a better sense of each other’s weight distribution, the three will sometimes put on each other’s shoes, or Guha’s ghungroo ankle bells, and do traditional warm-ups in each other’s forms. 

Choreographing is a constant negotiation—with each other, and with how they represent their forms. “We have a Boricua from Connecticut doing tap dance. We have a Mexican Jew who grew up on the Lower East Side doing flamenco. We have a Bengali American who’s learning a North Indian classical dance form in New Jersey,” says Guha. “Are we even allowed to make these artistic decisions? And when do we move forward with and without blessings, and when do we experiment in good faith?” Those questions are part of what informed the title of Can We Dance Here? (The other part is more literal: The trio has often been offered residencies, but told they couldn’t make noise and wouldn’t have a percussive floor.)

All three are very aware that work in historically marginalized forms must be done with integrity. “Even when we have choreographic disagreements, we’re like, ‘Well, why do you feel like that?’ And then we end up having an hour-long conversation about history and why this step is this way,” says Castro. 

Yes, They Can Dance Here

Today, Soles also includes three live musicians. They’re treated as both a band and a dance group, which can open up opportunities at many types of venues but can also sometimes mean performing on small stages with amazing sound quality but little space to move. Now, with a 2023 Bessie nomination for Outstanding Breakout Choreographer and rave reviews in The New York Times, they’re hoping to get the best of both worlds soon. This year, the group is wrapping up the final performances of Can We Dance Here? and working on a new feature-length work to premiere in 2025. 

They’ve stopped asking for permission to dance because, wherever they are, they know they’ll find a way to do it. “Even when we wait for the train to go back home, we’ll hear the subway and we’ll just start clapping,” says Rosales. “And now we’re jamming and stomping and doing vocals to the sound of the train going by. That’s how we hang out.”

Meet the Trio: Amanda Castro

When people ask Amanda Castro what kind of dancer she is, she likes to tell them “I’m a storyteller.” 

She could also say she was that BFA student who choreographed tap dance numbers at the experimental California Institute of the Arts, even after the dean told her not to. Or that she followed four years at Urban Bush Women with stints in a regional production of In the Heights and as Anita in a tour of West Side Story. Or that she now works with heavy-hitting tap dance stars like Ayodele Casel, Dormeshia, Jason Samuels Smith, Jared Grimes, Caleb Teicher, and others. She could mention being one of Dance Magazine’s “25 to Watch” in 2023, and winning a Bessie for Outstanding Performer later that year. 

But she sticks with what she sees as her mission as a dancer: to tell stories. “Yes, there are different languages, which are the different styles of dance,” she says. “But I’m here to provide a service to the people.”

Meet the Trio: Brinda Guha

Collaboration has long driven Brinda Guha’s work. It’s even why she fell in love with kathak itself. “I realized how kathak was a confluence of Hindu and Muslim cultures and religions, how it exemplifies how people actually work together and live together and express together and make music together,” she says. 

Today, in addition to her work as a dancer and company manager with Soles of Duende, Guha is the artistic director of contemporary Indian dance ensemble Kalamandir Dance Company, curator of arts showcase Wise Fruit NYC, and senior producing coordinator for Dance/NYC. Her main goals are to investigate what makes any art form contemporary and to work from a place that’s driven by the feminine divine, whether in the exploration of contemporary Indian dance in her personal dance practice or through collaboration. 

To better understand the essen­tial elements of dance, she’s sought out practitioners from other forms.  It’s why she first decided to collaborate with Arielle Rosales. “There was this dialogue around where our personal styles found a way to speak to each other cohesively, and when they were in dissonance,” Guha says. That dialogue has only grown deeper through her work in Soles. 

Meet the Trio: Arielle Rosales

On her website, Arielle Rosales calls herself a “social engagement performing artist.” It was a term she chose, she says, because she could never find the right words to describe her work: “Just saying ‘flamenco dancer’ felt inaccurate.” 

In addition to pushing the boundaries of flamenco, Rosales is a percussionist with an all-woman Afro-Brazilian band, and she once ran a multicultural dance school in East Harlem called House of Duende (which hosted some of Soles of Duende’s first rehearsals and led to the group’s name). The phrase “social engagement” also felt like it better encompassed her love of engaging directly with the audi­ence through site-specific work and the lecture-demonstrations she does with Flamenco Vivo Carlota Santana. 

Still, Rosales admits that the term initially came out of a place of fear that her experimentations with the form meant she didn’t fully qualify­ as a flamenco dancer. But that’s changed. “Over the seven years with Soles, because we are so intentional about what traditional things we’re using, and when we’re breaking the rules, in that journey of integrity, now I will call myself a flamenco dancer fully,” she says. “I don’t feel any more like anyone can take that away from me.” 

The post Sole Sisters: The Cross-Cultural Collaboration Soles of Duende Offers Just the Kind of Art We Need Right Now appeared first on Dance Magazine.

But attend a Company 360 Dance Theatre performance and the tables are turned. The Fredericksburg, Virginia–based company, led by choreographer Bailey Anne Vincent, who is Deaf, incorporates American Sign Language into all its productions. “If you’re a Deaf person, you’re in on the story more than a hearing person,” says Vincent.

For Vincent, using ASL in her choreography—which might mean incorporating a sign to emphasize an emotion a character is feeling, or to communicate what a lyric is saying—is both an artistic choice and an accessibility-related one. Though her audience is mostly hearing, “I still try to approach all our shows assuming there might be someone who is Deaf in the audience,” she says. But it’s also just a natural extension of the fact that ASL is Vincent’s preferred language. “When I choreograph, the way that my mind thinks is in my own language,” she says. “So even if I don’t want it to, sign finds its way into whatever I’m choreographing. It can’t really be extracted.”

Deaf actress and dancer Alexandria Wailes feels similarly. “Dance and using ASL are both so embedded in who I am, as part of my identity,” says Wailes through an interpreter. “I can’t really separate one from the other.”

For artists, like Vincent and Wailes, who are fluent in both the actual language of ASL and the proverbial one of dance, the intersection of the two embodied forms offers limitless creative potential, and the vital opportunity­ to make accessibility efforts less perfunctory and more integrated and enriching. Though incorporating ASL into choreographic work is not a new phenomenon—Deaf-led companies and Deaf artists have long done it—it’s becoming increasingly common on increasingly mainstream stages.

To get a sense of the deepening relationship between dance and ASL, look at choreographer and performer Brandon Kazen-Maddox’s career thus far. A GODA (grandchild of Deaf adults) and native ASL signer, Kazen-Maddox was long one of the New York City performing arts scene’s go-to interpreters, a reliable presence at performances, talkbacks, and more.

But in 2019, choreographer Kayla Hamilton asked Kazen-Maddox to join her New York Live Arts Fresh Tracks piece not as an interpreter but as an artist. “She asked me to represent all sounds in sign language, and also use my body as a dancer,” says Kazen-Maddox. “It was the most mind-shifting thing for me, because I was seen as an artist and a dancer and a performer, and was also representing in sign language everything that was happening.”

The experience was the beginning of a shift in Kazen-Maddox’s career, away from simply facilitating communication between­ Deaf and hearing individuals as an interpreter­ and towards an emerging genre Kazen-Maddox calls “American Sign Language dance theater.” But it was also indicative of a wider shift in the performing arts, one that is more artistically fulfilling for Deaf and ASL-fluent artists and that also repositions accessibility: Rather than something tacked on to and separate from the performance, it is something deeply ingrained and integrated.

Always key to this work, says Wailes: Deaf or Hard of Hearing performers who are “bilingual” in dance and ASL. “If you’re trying to be more inclusive, great,” she says. “Who are the people who are onstage? What are their lived experiences and how does this reveal itself­ in the work? We should continue to push towards­ the embracing of more people who have never been welcomed in these spaces.”

The Question of the Audience: Who Is It For?

Until recently, Betsy Quillen experienced performances for Deaf audiences and hearing audiences separately. “It’s one or the other—it’s very isolated,” says Quillen, who is a Hard of Hearing actor and theater director. “There are Deaf shows, and there are hearing shows, and very rarely do the two feel comfortable together.”

So when choreographer William Smith asked Quillen to collaborate with him on a piece for Roanoke Ballet Theatre that incorporated sign language, they had a clear goal: to make something that both Deaf and hearing audiences could understand and enjoy. “My specific role was making sure that Deaf eyes would understand it, and that we were making our Deaf audiences feel welcomed and included and respected,” says Quillen. “But we also made sure to show our hearing audience that this piece is made even more beautiful because we’ve included the Deaf audiences—that all of this ASL in every part of the production is enhancing the experience for everybody in the audience.”

The question of who a production is for, and how many in the audience will be fluent in ASL, isn’t always a straightforward one, says Alexandria Wailes, a Deaf dancer who blended dance and ASL in the recent Broadway revival of for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf. “Most of the time, it’s going to be people who don’t know ASL,” she says through an interpreter. “So what does that mean, in terms of what I’m sharing? I’m very aware that most of the audience is probably not going to quickly understand what I am saying. I just have to express it.”

But even that imperfect understanding can spur new ways of thinking. “The reactions I received from a lot of people after shows—their brains had shifted,” says Wailes. “For me, that was really exciting, because it means my work is encouraging people to think outside of what they’re used to experiencing with dance and signing.”

“ASL Is a Language, Not Just Something You Look At”

For artists and audiences who are not fluent in ASL, signs can sometimes be indistinguishable from choreography. And when hearing artists and audiences value how signs look over what they mean, the fusion of dance and ASL can become offensive rather than enriching. Antoine Hunter PurpleFireCrow, founder and director of Urban Jazz Dance Company and the Bay Area International Deaf Dance Festival, gives the example of a hearing choreographer asking him to “reverse” a sign because it would look cool, which then made it meaningless or changed it into a distasteful word.

“When people who are not native signers see ASL incorporated with movement, they’re like, ‘Oh my gosh, it’s so beautiful,’ ” says Alexandria Wailes, a Deaf dancer and actor, through an interpreter. “Which is valid in its own right, but ASL is a language that is tied to culture, communities, and history. It’s not just something that you look at or do because it feels cool and it’s beautiful.”

That doesn’t mean ASL always has to be used literally, or that it can’t be an opportunity for experimentation. In fact, the expectation that ASL be completely legible in an artistic setting can limit Deaf artists, when there’s no similar expectation that spoken language in performance always be logical or straightforward. (For instance, it’s not uncommon for performers to say absurd sentences, or experiment with strange deliveries.)

“The forcing of it to be legible, or to be understood, is not allowing for the people who live it to speak their truth,” says Yusha-Marie Sorzano, a Hard of Hearing choreographer who collaborated on a 2020 solo for Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater performer Samantha Figgins that incorporated ASL.

For Hunter, this might look like using signs that are actually the total opposite of what the lyrics of the song are conveying. “As with any other language, ASL can be used poetically, rhythmically, artistically, metaphorically,” shares Hunter.

“I think it’s really beautiful when you begin to weave languages, because in the weaving comes the new word,” Sorzano says. “How fascinating is it that a sign that represents ‘I am’ can be woven next to a renversé? And does that become a new way of being­ ‘I am’? There’s this beauty in what happens when you build something new.”

The post How Dance Artists are Fusing ASL With Choreography appeared first on Dance Magazine.

“It opened us up to a whole different realm of people,” says Robin Edwards, executive director of the Chicago Multi-Cultural Dance Center and Hiplet Ballerinas. “People know about Hubbard Street. People know about The Joffrey Ballet,” but they don’t necessarily know CMDC, Muntu Dance Theatre, or Deeply Rooted Dance Theater, she adds, naming just a few companies that have participated in the Legacy Project’s first and second cohorts. “Ravinia was an oppor­tunity to lessen that equity gap.”

Aptly titled Metamorphosis, the show offered a glimpse at the transformation the Legacy Project hopes to foster in Chicago and beyond. The future it envisions is one where Black dance is recognized, celebrated, and preserved for posterity, and historical inequities in funding and operational support have been rectified. For now, the Legacy Project has stepped in to bridge the gap, drawing on the university’s plentiful resources and connections to help participating companies thrive.

Filling the Gap

The need for such an initiative was made stark in the 2019 report Mapping the Dance Landscape in Chicagoland, which found that only 9 percent of funding targeted communities of color even though people of color made up nearly half the population and more than half of dancers and choreographers (with 31 percent of dancers and choreographers identifying as Black or African American). The report called out the disparity, flagging, albeit gingerly, that the disproportionate allocation of resources “may perpetuate inequities.”

“To me, I know it exists. But I think it just shocked a lot of people,” says Legacy Project director Princess Mhoon, who grew up steeped in Chicago’s Black dance community and trained with several of the institutions she now works with.
The Legacy Project was born in the wake of that report when Tracie D. Hall, then director of the Joyce Foundation’s Culture Program, reached out to Logan Center leaders to discuss developing a program to bolster the organizations performing and celebrating Black dance—and see if they’d be willing to become its home.

It was an easy yes, according to the Logan Center’s executive director Bill Michel. The University of Chicago was simultaneously having discussions about how to support an increasing demand for dance offerings on campus. In addition to serving as a center for artistic practice for students, faculty, and staff, a core part of the Logan Center’s mission is “to create real opportunities for the incredible artists and arts organizations on the South Side of Chicago and across the city to be part of our community, and for us to be part of their community,” says Michel.

Cultivating Community

The Legacy Project’s cohort model brought together eight companies in its first round between 2019 and 2022 and 10 companies for its second beginning in 2023. A testament to its early success is the fact that six of the eight companies from the first cohort returned—including the aforementioned along with Joel Hall Dancers & Center, NAJWA Dance Corps, and Forward Momentum Chicago. They were joined by newcomers M.A.D.D. Rhythms, Move Me Soul, The Era Footwork Collective, and Praize Productions.

Leaders from each of the companies meet monthly for workshops—such as leadership development sessions run by experts and peer-led tutorials where each company shares hard-won knowledge—and discussions that foster a meaningful bond. “We got to work together. We got to talk with each other. We got to hear about other people’s struggles,” says Edwards, reflecting on the first cohort and the no-brainer decision to return for round two. The burgeoning community became a lifeline during the pandemic and beyond. “​​It was comforting to know that you’re sitting there amongst people that are going through the same thing,” she says. “We’re fighting for the solutions together. We’re not alone in this.”

Building Four Pillars

The companies and Legacy Project rely on UChicago resources and partners and other institutions and organizations across the city in addressing four pillars. First is capacity building, and second is advocacy, which undergirds everything else. The third pillar is archiving, and the fourth is presenting, which involves access to rehearsal and performance space on campus for each company, as well as joint programs like the one at Ravinia.

For capacity building, each dance company works closely with consultants and grad students through the UChicago Office of Civic Engagement’s Community Programs Accelerator. They identify high-priority areas of development and customize projects that will bolster growth, like crafting a fundraising plan or finding the right board members.

“We want them to not have to walk the journey alone,” says Sharon Grant, executive director of the Community Programs Accelerator. “We’re not a ‘One-and-done, go do a course, here’s some information, and then go back to figure it out on your own.’ ” Instead, they roll up their sleeves and help get things done.

The archiving component puts the “legacy” in the Chicago Black Dance Legacy Project. Through partnerships with the Newberry Library and the Black Metropolis Research Consortium, and help from a student intern turned staff member, companies consider options for cataloging and housing their artifacts.

Edwards recalls poring over piles of old programs and photos CMDC sent to the Newberry Library. “What we’re saying is that we consider this to be so important that these things need to be archived,” Edwards says. Creating the collections that will tell the stories of Black artists and companies to the next generations is about preserving their legacies, to be sure. But it’s also about leaving behind something to build on into the future.

The post How Chicago Black Dance Legacy Project at the University of Chicago is Working to Bridge the Local Dance Scene’s Equity Gap appeared first on Dance Magazine.

When Collins was interviewed for Dance Magazine’s February 1954 issue, she was in her third season with the opera while using her downtime to prepare the concert-dance programs she toured around the country during the off-seasons. She recalled auditioning for Léonide Massine as a teenager and being offered a place with the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, which she turned down because “for the corps de ballet, he said he’d have to paint me white.” After, she said, she “cried for an hour. And went back to the barre.”

Asked how she resolved her dual training in ballet and modern dance, she said: “There is no conflict. You need both to extend the range of the body. The illusion you communicate while dancing depends on what you feel about your dance. For instance, I love Mozart. For that I need elevation and lightness, which I’ve learned from ballet. I love spirituals, too, and for that there is modern dance and a feeling of the earth.” 

The post TBT: Why Black Ballerina Janet Collins Turned Down the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo appeared first on Dance Magazine.

The Nuts and Bolts

If you get the job, how much will it pay? “Some small companies offer salaries that are barely above the poverty line,” says Boston Ballet dancer Courtney Nitting. “Consider, if you take a contract, will you need a second job? Do you want to live with a roommate? Will you be able to save any money for your future?” It’s also worth finding out whether the contract includes benefits such as health insurance or perks like shoes and access to physical therapy.

Your financial line in the sand might be different than someone else’s—and it might shift as you mature. When you’re starting out, you might find value in working for exposure and connections. Still, be wary of being taken advantage of. “Taking a job shouldn’t feel like sacrificing your worth or your body,” says theater dancer Caylie Rose Newcom, who most recently worked as assistant dance captain and swing for Radio City’s Christmas Spectacular.

On that note, consider each gig’s time commitment. How many performances or weeks are included in the contract? Will you do community outreach as well as main-stage productions? How many days a week will you be dancing? Will you tour?

Some of this may depend on whether a job is union or nonunion. “A union company provides more benefits and protections,” says Virginie Mécène, director of Graham 2. “There are rules the management must follow about hours, travel, and benefits.” Nonunion gigs, on the other hand, may offer more flexibility. For example, Mécène recalls touring with Battery Dance Company and being able to book extra performances on the fly. “That couldn’t happen in a union company,” she says. “Everything must be organized in advance.”

The People Factor

It’s normal for a show or company to experience dancer turnover—but is there such a thing as too much turnover? “Nowadays, dancers don’t tend to stay in one place as long as they used to,” Mécène observes, “but if there are a lot of people leaving a job at the same time or quite quickly, that’s something to investigate.” Auditioning for an organization that doesn’t retain dancers can be a risky proposition.

The same goes for turnover within the administration. One director change can be a breath of fresh air, but multiple changes in only a few years can signal problems. Plus, “if you audition for a company and they get a new director, you might not be the type of dancer they’re looking to change the company to,” Nitting says. Gabrielle Collins, a dancer with Smuin Contemporary Ballet, adds that with a new director, “the current dancers are also auditioning to keep their place in the company,” which can make the environment feel both competitive and unstable.

What should you look for, in terms of the people you’ll be working with? Nitting likes seeing a mix of older, more experienced performers and new professionals. “That shows that there’s room for growth,” she explains. It’s also important to have higher-ups that listen and care. “It’s not a good sign if you don’t feel comfortable speaking openly with the director or choreographer about something you need,” says freelance performer Ida Saki, whose credits include Bob Fosse’s DANCIN’ on Broadway. “It’s important to be in a room with good people.”

The Intangibles

To get a sense of what it would be like to work under a director or choreographer before you audition, try to join them for an open or master class. “See how they lead the room,” Newcom says. “There have been times I’ve taken a class with someone, and that experience told me whether I’d want to do a whole show with them.” For concert dancers, this might mean doing an intensive, or asking to take company class or observe a rehearsal.

Call on your network in the dance community for insider information. “You probably have a friend of a friend in a company—and if you don’t, you can reach out to people on social media,” Collins says. Getting personal anecdotes about a job or director can help you narrow down your list of auditions.

And remember: What’s right for someone else may not be right for you. “My partner is a dancer,” Saki says, “and what he wants is a solid, steady, yearlong contract. I want to be diversified in my work. I want to fit as much as I can into each year. Everybody’s different!” Give your own wants and needs a lot of thought before showing up in the audition room, and you’ll stand a stronger chance of landing a job where you’ll thrive.

Warning Signs

How can you tell a company is experiencing financial strain? Look for these potential red flags before you audition:

• Fewer performances scheduled than last year
• Less (or no) touring planned this year
• Layoffs within the organization (dancers and/or staff)
• Facilities are outdated or in need of repair
• Cutbacks on perks such as free shoes and physical therapy

The post What to Consider Before Auditioning for a Potential Employer appeared first on Dance Magazine.

“Through the early decades of modern dance in this country, The 92nd Street Y became a safe haven for many artists who were not being presented anywhere else in New York City,” says Alison Manning, co-executive director of the Harkness Dance Center and director of the Harkness School of Dance at 92NY. Dance legends like Erick Hawkins, José Limón, Sophie Maslow, Pearl Primus, Ruth St. Denis, and Ted Shawn all performed on 92NY’s stage. Although the organization also had classes and concerts in other dance styles, it was a hotspot for modern dance in particular just as the genre was beginning to take off in the U.S.

This year, as 92NY celebrates its 150th anniversary, honoring those dance roots is at the top of the list of priorities. The organization is installing a major exhibit called “Dance to Belong: A History of Dance at 92NY,” from March 12 to October 31, in 92NY’s Weill Art Gallery. It kicks off with a one-night-only performance on March 12 meant to connect the venue’s illustrious past to the promise of what’s ahead. The Limón Dance Company will perform José Limón’s beloved There is a Time, paired with Omar Román De Jesús’ Like Those Playground Kids at Midnight. The Martha Graham Dance Company will perform Appalachian Spring Suite, paired with an excerpt from Jamar Roberts’ We The People. And Ailey II will perform a series of excerpts from Ailey classics, including The Lark Ascending, Streams, and Blues Suite, plus a premiere by Hope Boykin.

“We are highlighting that, in the moment when modern dance was wrestling into relevance in this country, The 92nd Street Y played a pretty critical role in opening doors for artists who needed space and support,” says Manning.

The programming for the upcoming performance began with Limón’s There Is a Time, she says. “The piece represents such an important message about our own 92NY history. There have been ups, there have been downs,” she explains. “And we as an institution have weathered both times of great challenge and of joy, but that we were at the forefront for many overlooked artists, during this important period in modern dance history, in providing support, time for joy, time for grief, whatever they needed to make their work.” 

The one brand-new work on the bill is a premiere by Boykin, who says it’s an expression of her gratitude to the legends who paved the path before her. Creating it for this concert was a “no-brainer” she says, since 92NY not only gave some of those legends a platform, but offered her one too: Her first full-evening show of her own took place there in 2021. “This work is a thank-you,” says Boykin. “A thank-you for the lessons, and paths made clear. This work will be a celebration of who I have become as a result of the work so many did before me.”

Putting together the March 12 program has brought home for Manning just how pivotal a role 92NY has played in the story of modern dance, and her role in stewarding that forward for the next generation. “My vision centers around trying to make sure that artists who need a platform and haven’t had an opportunity have it,” she says, “and artists who already have substantial support and known work can lift up these younger, less established artists simply by sharing the space and being presented on these same stages.”

Román De Jesús points out that this is precisely what this particular program is doing for him. The emerging choreographer has recently been racking up fellowships and awards, like the Dance Magazine Harkness Promise Award, yet he still struggles to find resources and venues to showcase his work. “To me, standing on the same stage as legendary companies and alongside fellow emerging artists symbolizes representation, inclusivity, and hope,” he says.

92NY’s long tradition of inclusivity is ongoing, and it will continue to be a place where dance history is made for many more decades to come.

The post 92NY Celebrates Its Rich Dance History as a Birthplace of Modern Dance appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Figgins trained at the legendary Jones-Haywood School of Ballet (now Jones-Haywood Dance School) in Washington, DC, then danced leading roles as a member of Dance Theatre of Harlem and performed in the Broadway shows Motown: The Musical and Memphis, among others. Her focus now is on creating caring environments for dancers, and she’s guiding Ballet Tech’s recent initiative to make dance education more accessible in New York City’s public schools.

Dancing is important regardless of whether you’re going to do it professionally or not. Ballet Tech Across New York is about students having a truly enriching experience with dance. Obviously, our hope is that students will graduate from Ballet Tech and use their training to continue pursuing dance and the performing arts, but what about all the students who choose to not pursue performative arts? How are we engaging them? C​reating a safe environment for people to explore dance​ encourages people to remain involved in ​the dance​ community.

We’re giving something back to these communities that are allowing us to come into their schools to identify potential students for our program. These enrichment programs allow us the opportunity to see beyond what the physical body looks like to all the other components that make a dancer a dancer: creativity, musicality, coordination, and the ability to follow directions. An audition process could feel extractive, like we’re going in identifying students who have talent and taking them out of their communities. Now, we’re making sure all the students have a really great experience with dance.

Ballet Tech Across New York offers­ two different tracks. There are schools that already have dance built into their programming, and those schools might want something that’s a little more rigorous, our BT Ballet Basics. The second track, Dance for EveryBODY, lets everybody know that they can dance. The reality is that some bodies don’t want to ​have a straight​ened knee or a pointed foot, or turnout, and th​ose bodies should ​also be able to access dance. In the Dance for EveryBODY class, we do some creative movement, some improvisation, some isolations, and some ballet ​steps, as well.

I’m trying to provide students with what I would have wanted for myself and my peers when I was training. I grew up learning ballet in a predominantly ​Black ​dance community​. I didn’t have to assimilate and leave my cultural expressions of movement​ at the studio door, an experience I have heard time and time again from other Black dance professionals training in predominantly white ballet spaces. ​

When you are Black in ballet, it’s even more pressing to be able to have a critical, intellectual conversation about ballet, because you might not be taken seriously in certain spaces if you can’t. I want students to have as much language and as much learning as possible. Can ​we be critical about stories like Swan Lake? It’s a super-problematic story: Von Rothbart is keeping all these women against their wil​l. Being critical of these works allows us to breathe new life into them, making them more accessible and relatable to this generation.

Dance is not specific for any particular body type or cultural group. It’s something that all of us can enjoy. Sometimes people conflate “ballet” with “dance.” But ballet is just one way people dance, not the only way. I want to give students as much information as possible, so they have as many options as possible as they enter the ever-evolving world of dance.

The post Dionne Figgins on Providing Supportive Dance Education in New York City Public Schools appeared first on Dance Magazine.

How are you working to stabilize and re-instill confidence in the company?
I’m bringing feelings of positivity to it. There was a lot of uncertainty before. Looking at the company’s dancers in the studio now, you can see the relief and joy they have. Also, I am getting rid of the restrictive policies that were in place before regarding dancer schedules, and promoting open communication between the dancers and staff.

The investigation revealed significant financial concerns. What changes do you expect you will have to make?
With the tight budget we have, it’s going to be a roller coaster ride, and some sacrifices will have to be made. Of the company’s 33 dancers, a handful will not be returning when their contracts are up. However, we may need to tighten up the company even further and reduce the dancers’ contracts by a few weeks.

What is your longer-term vision for the company?
One of my goals is to have everyone on the same page in terms of the look of the company. We don’t have that now stylistically, but we will get there. I also want to challenge the dancers more with the ballets we perform. I want to build a repertory of ballet classics such as Giselle, The Nutcracker, and Romeo and Juliet. I would love to bring in more Balanchine ballets, and those of Jerome Robbins and Twyla Tharp, as well as newer choreographers, especially female choreographers.

You are also a choreographer. Will we see the company performing some of your ballets?
Yes. It will be a necessity now to save the company money.

At some point, you will need to hire dancers. What do you look for in a dancer?
Someone with strong classical technique who is also able to move freely in contemporary dance styles. Someone who is open to taking risks. If a choreographer tells you to fall on the ground and roll, you need to be able to do so.

What are some of your other goals for the company?
To find a new facility with larger studio space for the company and our new Academy. I would also like to expand the number of productions we do in a season from three to four or five in the next few years, and have the company tour more.

The post Cleveland Ballet Reset: A Conversation With New Artistic Director Timour Bourtasenkov appeared first on Dance Magazine.

The types of pieces I write for the magazine range from features to columns (like Dancer Diary) to cover stories. Today I’ll zoom in on “Sole Stories,” a feature I wrote for the February print edition of the magazine. In it, I chat with tap dancer and Dorrance Dance artistic director Michelle Dorrance about her tap shoes, New York City Ballet corps de ballet dancer Olivia Boisson about her pointe shoes, and heels dancer, teacher, and choreographer Hector Invictus Lopez about his heels.

Once my editor assigned the story, I brainstormed dancers who might have meaningful things to say on the topic. I pitched some options and we landed on these three stellar artists—chosen not just because they’re wildly talented but because their relationships with their shoes speak to larger discussions about identity, movement quality, and sound. I won’t spoil too much about my interviews with the dancers—you’ll have to order the magazine or follow this link—but I will say that they all had particularly interesting things to say. Then, we got the dancers into the studio with the extraordinary photographer Quinn Wharton and created some magic. (But for real, check out the images!)

Dorrance’s feet moved like lightning in her Lower East Side rehearsal space. She was even generous enough to teach me a tap step or two. Boisson’s endless lines lit up the School of American Ballet studios. She touched on the value of having pointe shoes that match her skin tone, and graciously filled us in on where to find the best paper towels for makeshift toe pads. (Where else but in the David H. Koch Theater bathrooms?) And Hector Invictus Lopez brought unmatched vibes to his photo shoot at Broadway Dance Center. Despite hardly sleeping the night before—he’d been performing until the wee hours of the morning)—he was kicking to the gods, serving face, and blasting Beyoncé at 8 am.

Once all of the interviews and photo shoots were done, I sat down in a quiet space and wrote the piece. I submitted it to my editor and she responded with thoughtful edits. After some revisions, she sent the piece to Dance Magazine’s fact-checking and proofreading teams to get it squeaky clean. Then the story and photos went off to the printer along with the rest of the fabulous February issue.

Even after six years, when I open my mailbox and find the magazine inside, my heart does a little leap. This month was no exception!

For a look at each of these dancers in action, head on over to Dance Magazine’s YouTube channel for my latest vlog.

The post Dancer Diary: What It’s Like to Write for <i>Dance Magazine</i> appeared first on Dance Magazine.

The time away gave Martins a sense of perspective and left her feeling refreshed. After she recovered from her injury, she auditioned again—and, finally, landed a coveted spot in Moses’ troupe.

Martins’ story is not unique. These days, auditioning two, three, four, or more times isn’t an anomaly—it’s often the norm. “In this industry you get told ‘no’ all the time, so auditioning is your job,” says Houston-based musical theater dancer Courtney Chilton. Depending on what corner of the dance scene you’re in, “You might spend more time auditioning than on contracts.”

Learning how to weather the emotional storm that often accompanies repeated rejection is a challenge. But doing so can lead to fulfilling opportunities. Consider these mindset shifts as you navigate return auditions.

It’s Just the Nature of the Beast

Radio City Rockette Ashley Kasunich Fritz auditioned a total of six times for the Rockettes before finally getting accepted in 2011. Now in her 13th season, she says that six auditions isn’t actually that uncommon in Rockette world these days: “The choreography is so specific, and there’s not a ton of rehearsal time, so you need to be able to match other people right away.”

“It’s the nature of the beast,” says Chilton. As a cast member and dance captain for regional and touring productions, such as South Pacific, Mary Poppins, and Elf, she remembers periods when she would book about one in 50 auditions. “And that was pretty good!” she says. In musical theater, where a casting director may see hundreds of dancers for one part, competition is especially fierce. Knowing that going in can help temper the frustration and disappointment when you find yourself auditioning repeatedly.

It’s Not You (Necessarily)

Though it’s important to be as prepared as possible for any audition, recognize that there will be many variables directors are considering as they make selections, some of which are unrelated to your dancing. A casting director may need something or someone hyper-specific at a particular moment. That doesn’t mean you aren’t right for the company or show—it just might not be your time.

“So many things have nothing to do with what you did in the room,” says Chilton. “You have to acknowledge that there will be plenty of times when they just want someone two inches taller.”

There Are Advantages to Auditioning Again

Despite the prior rejection, being a returning auditionee has its perks: familiarity with the company or show’s people, process, and choreographic style; the accompanying confidence that comes with that familiarity; and the opportunity to demonstrate your tenacity and dedication by coming back.

Both Chilton and Julie Branam, director of the Christmas Spectacular Starring the Radio City Rockettes, agree that in most scenarios, directors look favorably on returnees. “You’re building familiarity and building relationships,” says Chilton. Branam agrees: “I love seeing dancers come back. I love to see when a dancer has really worked and is improving and is getting it.” Kasunich Fritz remembers getting cut in the first round at her first Rockettes audition, but making it further and further through the process each time, which helped boost her confidence. “The director could see where I started and where I progressed to,” she says. “Going through the process multiple times, they really get to know you.”

Similarly, getting face time with current company members and fellow auditionees can help demonstrate how well you work with others and give you some much needed social support as you navigate the audition process. “I saw other dancers who had auditioned multiple times as well,” says Kasunich Fritz. “You start to build a community. Since the dance world is small, it creates friendship and camaraderie.”

Protect Your Self-Esteem

It’s natural to feel disappointed when you get told “no,” but remember that one “no” doesn’t determine your worth as an artist or your future in the dance field. Acknowledge your feelings, and figure out self-care strategies that work for you.

The people in your support network, from friends and family members to fellow dancers, can be powerful boosters as you get back on the horse, offering a sense of perspective and affirming your talent and worth. “Find your people. Find your friends,” Chilton says. “Find someone who is going to go get a cookie with you after the audition.”

In the end, stay focused on what drove you to audition in the first place. “If you give up right away, you’re only hurting yourself,” Martins says. “It pays off to keep on going back, especially when it’s a company you feel connected to.”

Leveraging What You’ve Learned

When you’re auditioning for a company, show, or program for a second (or third, fourth, or fifth) time, applying the lessons learned from your previous rejection(s) is key. Here are three tips for setting yourself up for success as you audition again.

1. Record yourself doing combinations from the audition. One of the most helpful strategies for Rockette Ashley Kasunich Fritz was finding studio space and videotaping herself doing the combinations she had learned at the audition. “I would videotape them, watch them, check my angles, go over them, and then repeat the process, much like what we do in rehearsals now,” she says. “It was all about building that muscle memory through repetition.”
2. Take classes in the style of the show, program, or company. It’s possible that you may just need more time with the movement style or choreography in question. Elena Martins, dancer with Robert Moses’ Kin, remembers just how new and different Moses’ style felt to her when she first moved to the Bay Area. “I loved the style, but I get why he didn’t hire me right away,” she says. “It was just so different from what I had done before.” Over time, she grew more comfortable with Moses’ aesthetic and eventually joined his company.
3. Incorporate feedback. Many company and casting directors offer corrections and feedback during an audition. Take note! Rockettes director Julie Branam intentionally gives dancers feedback during auditions to see how they will respond. “As we get further into the audition process, we give specific notes to see if they can make the adjustment,” she says. “That’s part of the job. We do notes until the show closes because that’s how we keep the shows clean.”

The post If at First You Don’t Succeed…Learn How to Navigate Return Auditions appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Justin Pham, Los Angeles–based choreographer and dancer, and Chryssa Hadjis, New York City–based freelance dancer

When Hadjis moved from California to New York City in the fall of 2023, it was the first time she and former competition teammate Pham had been separated since they met as kids at Murrieta Dance Project in California. The pair competed in nearly every category, including as successful duet partners. When Pham enrolled at University of Southern California’s Glorya Kaufman School of Dance, Hadjis soon followed.

“It was fun to experience comp life together, and then the college conservatory realm felt so different,” says Hadjis. “It was great to have a friend there to share the ups and downs.”

Hadjis danced in many of Pham’s choreography projects, including one he presented at the Capezio A.C.E. Awards. “You want to work with people you enjoy being around,” Pham says.

“In a way you can root [our friendship] back to competition dance, because that’s where we met,” Hadjis says. “Or you could root it to dance as a whole, because through dance we’ve experienced life together.”

“We literally grew up together,” Pham says. “We’ve been able to experience each other in all these different phases of our lives, and yet in a way we’re doing what we’ve always been doing.”

Kylie Dyson, Boston Ballet II, and Marissa Mattingly, Complexions Contemporary Ballet

Dyson and Mattingly met on the competition circuit in central Florida and became close when Dyson joined the studio Mattingly attended, All American Classical Ballet School, in Tampa. They competed at the Youth America Grand Prix, USA International Ballet Competition, and World Ballet Competition as soloists and in groups, and performed a duet from Swan Lake during their last comp season together.

Whenever they had a break from their rigorous schedule of classes and rehearsals, they would study together in a café. “We’d try to do homework, but we’d usually end up talking,” says Mattingly.

“It’s cool to think back to us talking about what companies we wanted to join, and now when we FaceTime to talk about our days, we’re living the life we used to daydream about,” says Dyson.

Now at the beginning of their professional careers, Dyson and Mattingly are glad to have each other’s support. “We text all the time,” Dyson says. “Despite the distance, nothing has changed,” Mattingly adds. “We’re super-bonded.”

Courtney Conovan, L.A. Dance Project, and Makaila Chiplin (known professionally as Chip), New York City–based freelance dancer

Every year on their respective birthdays, Conovan and Chip post funny throwback videos of each other from their competition days on Instagram.

“It’s such a perfect time capsule of how we were dancing then compared to how we are now,” Chip says. As members of Rise Dance Company in Round Rock, Texas, “we were just enjoying ourselves and having so much fun.”

“The memories [of that time] that I think of aren’t competing onstage or what pieces we did—it’s always the hotel room after, or the trip to Corner Bakery that we took between every rehearsal,” Conovan says. “I think of us doing life together, more than being dancers together.”

The friends stayed in touch through texting and FaceTime as Conovan left for Purchase College and Chip, a year later, enrolled at University of the Arts. Now, as professionals, they say not much has changed.

“We have a very goofy friendship,” Chip says. “We get together and it’s like we’re 11 years old in the hotel room after a competition again.”

The post 3 Lasting Pro Dancer Friendships That Were Forged on the Convention Floor appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Current project: Madonna’s The Celebration Tour

Age: 30

Hometown: Layton, Utah

Training: Dance Impressions (Farmington, Utah), New York City Dance Alliance, Marymount Manhattan College

Accolades: Chita Rivera Award for Outstanding Dancer in a Broadway Show, for Bob Fosse’s DANCIN’

Inspiring others: Andy Pellick vividly remembers noticing Love’s “special sauce” when she was around 12 years old taking his jazz class at NYCDA. Over the years since, when working on choreography “she gives you what you didn’t know you wanted,” he says. “She inspires a choreographer or a teacher or another dancer by doing moves in a way that you didn’t even know was possible. She’s able to be a muse for a lot of people, myself included.”

Swing success: Love was an ensemble dancer in the national tour of Wicked before the pandemic shutdown, and when the show returned, she rejoined as a swing. “The more tracks I learned, it was actually easier to remember them all, because I could understand where everyone was at any given time,” she says. “Swinging almost feels like an out-of-body experience. I can see things in slow motion.”

Dancin’ dreams: Love won a Chita Rivera Award for last year’s Broadway run of Bob Fosse’s DANCIN’. “That show is the dancer’s dream,” she says. “It’s so visceral but also nuanced, and it captured all the essences of what I want to be and portray.” She also loved her castmates. “It’s a game changer when you like everyone you work with and there is a real camaraderie. That’s the first show where I fully got to be myself. We all did.”

Exploring the world: When Love joined Madonna’s world tour—currently running through April, with 79 stops across Europe and North America—it took time to get used to the schedule, which sometimes includes rehearsals until 2 or 3 am. (The choreography is credited to a who’s who of creative minds, including (LA)HORDE, Valeree Young, Matt Cady, Damien Jalet, Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, Mecnun Giasar, Megan Lawson, and Nicolas Huchard.) Now that she’s up to speed, she takes full advantage of immersing herself in new cultures on tour. “I love to go to fitness studios, and I’ve been taking classes in different languages,” she says. “I’m also very interested in body language, so it’s been fascinating to sit in coffee shops and learn from the people in front of me.”

More than clothes: Love documents her funky, fun personal style on social media, and she’s found comfort in using fashion as another mode of expressing herself. She’s interested in eventually bringing some of that sensibility into costume design.

Growing and trusting: “Dance has saved me many times, gotten me through many heartbreaks,” says Love. “I’m now finding my voice more. I know I have things to offer, and I find that they’re being received. I’m trusting that even though I may not always feel like I fit in, I know that I belong.”

The post Meet Mattie Love, Performer With Madonna’s The Celebration Tour appeared first on Dance Magazine.

At its most profound, ethics asks how we should live. Where is the line between right and wrong? What does it mean to be a good human being and create a good society? The question is one of ought versus is. Just because something has been a certain way for hundreds of years is not a justification for its continuance.

In the case of the dance field this is especially relevant. While dance is an exciting and vast domain with many different facets, the field writ large has not always grown from a deep consideration of the ethical dimensions of its prevailing practices and values. As dance educator Susan Stinson noted in 1984, “When it appears so obvious that dance can either enhance or diminish our humanness, [why] do we seem to use it so frequently for the latter and so infrequently for the former?”

Studying ethics provides perspectives and possibilities for making the dance world more humane. The specific realm of normative ethics is the study of what is good and bad, right and wrong. However, normative ethics is not monolithic, and the different perspectives are helpful to understand the problems that exist. Virtue ethics focuses more on the character of persons in determining what is good/bad. Deontological ethics concentrates on rules, rights, and responsibilities. And consequentialist ethics centers on results or consequences of behavior. Research shows that the Western dance world functions according to a pseudo-consequentialist perspective that can seriously undermine people’s rights.

The strong tendency in Western dance—as practiced initially in Europe and Russia and then the United States, especially since the dawn of the twentieth century—is to present honorable-sounding statements as rationalizations (often poorly conceived) for how the field functions. Whether intentionally or not, moral-sounding (vs. morally sound) perspectives have come to mask a broad spectrum of questionable behaviors across a variety of styles, from ballet, modern, and theatrical jazz dance to the commercial dance field. These include­ everything from a choreographer appropriating another culture’s sacred practices to an agent working with one of their presenter friends to ensure a company they represent is in a coveted festival showcase, and even to an atmosphere of fear dominating an entire dance institution.

The main underlying narrative driving this set of practices is that results are what are most valued. For many in dance, everything comes down to the work itself, because great dance can provide a deep spiritual benefit. This belief can lead to the following conclusion: One should do all one can to get the work made and seen. Everything taken together—choreographers, dancers, contracts, funding, etc.—contributes to the manifestation of something outstandingly good: the uplift experienced by viewing great dance.

While seemingly harmless and even inspirational, revering the experience a masterpiece evokes has been used to instill a dangerous, unquestioning reverence for choreographic geniuses­ and the pedagogical practices they employ. It can mean that it is ethically permissible (and often actually condoned) to be an oppressive choreographer, for example, because the good of providing a superior aesthetic experience outweighs the bad that might arise from being a choreographic­ bully. It can mean placing inappropriate and ultimately damaging value on mutually supportive, sacrosanct products (rather than processes)—namely, genius choreographers, choreographic masterpieces, major presenting venues, and elite institutions. It sets up a situation where the valued “ends” can easily involve some form of abusive behaviors causing suffering, severely limiting individuals’ rights and compromising decent, humane conduct.

What the field of ethics offers us are ways to challenge such problematic assumptions and actions. We can draw inspiration from the deontological realm, such as the idea that all human beings regardless of context should be treated with dignity and respect—as ends in themselves and never solely as a means to an end. We can also look to virtue ethics, especially an ethics of care and the degree to which it encourages individuals to consciously cultivate traits such as compassion, patience, generosity, fairness, and sensitivity to others.

From a dance perspective, considering rights and virtues means looking at the dance field in a very different light from what has too often been the norm. Dancers, administrators, choreographers, teachers, students, and parents would be encouraged to work collaboratively to determine common values, principles, rights, and responsibilities for any studio, school, program, class, or company. Doing so would help to provide greater clarity and a sense of shared responsibility, moving us toward a more humane dance world.

Naomi M. Jackson, PhD, is a professor in the School of Music, Dance and Theatre at Arizona State University.

The post Examining the Dance World’s Ethics appeared first on Dance Magazine.

For Nickie, cooking is more than just a hobby. “Growing up, it was either becoming a dancer or going to school to become a chef,” says Nickie. Though he picked the former, he’s still looking for ways to turn his passion for food into a career. He runs his own prepared-meal business, and tracks his ventures in the kitchen on Instagram @chef_nickie. “Cooking is very therapeutic for me,” says Nickie, who prefers to spend time in the kitchen by himself. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Seasoning as Accessories

Nickie applies the same philosophy to cooking that he does to fashion. “Your body is the base in terms of fashion, where in cooking the base will be your rice, your meats, your beans,” he says. “The seasoning is the accessories. You don’t want to be too much, and you don’t want to undercut yourself either. Mix and match—sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, but you’ll learn for next time.”

Tune In to Your Ancestors

Nickie urges other cooks to taste as they go—he learned to cook by observing, not measuring, and sees all measurements as a guide rather than a rule. “When our ancestors tell us to stop pouring seasoning, that’s when we stop,” he says.

Ingredients

• 1 lb extra-sharp cheddar cheese (“In Trinidad, we use New Zealand cheddar cheese,” says Nickie.)
• 1 lb grated parmesan cheese
• 1 tbsp salt, for boiling pasta
• 1 lb (16 oz) dried elbow macaroni, penne, or other shaped pasta
• 2 tbsps unsalted butter, softened, plus more to grease pans
• 1 1/4 cup evaporated milk
• 1 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 8 oz cream cheese (Nickie says that you can substitute
  2 whisked eggs for the cream cheese, which binds the dish together, though he prefers the richer taste of the cream cheese.)
• 1 large carrot, grated
• 2 tsps granulated garlic
• 2 tsps onion powder
• 2 tbsps ketchup
• 1/2 cup creamy French dressing (“My secret weapon,” adds Nickie.)
• 1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 tsp adobo seasoning
• 1/2 packet Sazón seasoning
• 2 whole pimiento peppers from a jar, finely chopped
• 1/2 tsp dried parsley or fresh parsley, finely chopped

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
2. Shred the cheddar cheese using the large side of a box grater.
3. Mix the shredded cheddar together with the grated parmesan cheese, then divide the cheese mixture in half.
4. Bring a large pot of water (4–5 quarts) to a rapid boil. Add salt and pasta. Stir for the fi rst minute or two to prevent sticking, then cook until al dente (about 8–10 minutes) and drain. While the pasta is still very hot, return it to the pot. Add softened butter and mix until melted. Place the pasta in a bowl and set aside.
5. Place the same large pot over low to medium heat and add the remaining ingredients. Stir together until the sauce is smooth and creamy.
6. Add half the cheese mixture and stir until combined.
7. Add the pasta to the cream sauce and mix well.
8. Grease one or more glass or ceramic casserole dishes with softened butter.
9. Pour the cheese-and-pasta mixture into the dishes and top with the remaining half of the cheese.
10. Bake the macaroni pie until the top is golden brown, about 30–45 minutes.
11. Allow the pie to cool, then cut it into squares to enjoy. (“Pray for discipline,” adds Nickie.)

The post Keon K. Nickie, Artistic Assistant of Dallas Black Dance Theatre: <i>Encore!</i>, Shares His Family’s Trinidadian Macaroni Pie appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Anita and Chita’s other early dazzlers—Rose in Bye Bye Birdie and Anyanka in the mostly forgotten 1964 musical Bajour—were known to me from guest spots on TV variety shows, and it seemed I’d been watching Chita be indelible my whole life. Whether she was flipping her skirt for Robbins or cocking her head for Fosse or just extending an arm for any of the other choreographers she worked with, her technique was impeccable, her energy ferocious. Her dancing had both elegance and directness, qualities not often found in combination. And it wasn’t just when she had larger-than-life roles like Claire to bite into. In Chita Rivera: The Dancer’s Life, she was just Chita, a hard-working member of the ensemble who’d lucked into some fabulous shows and worked with some fabulous people. Yet you couldn’t take your eyes off her.

When Chita was among the recipients of the 2002 Kennedy Center Honors, Hal Prince, in his introduction, described her as one of those people who “carry around their own spotlight.” And that spotlight illuminated everyone Chita played, whether the far-from-glamorous owner of the title arena in The Rink or the embodiment of showbiz razzle-dazzle in Kiss of the Spider Woman—both of which won her Tony Awards.

Speaking of awards, you may have noticed that I’m calling her Chita instead of the more journalistically formal Rivera. It’s not because we were pals. (According to her memoir, her pals called her Cheet.) But in 2017, the Fred and Adele Astaire Awards, which every year honored New York City theater dancers and choreographers chosen by a committee I chaired, morphed into the Chita Rivera Awards; for the first time, I got to see her offstage and off-script. The powerhouse charisma didn’t need a script. The remarkable amalgam of elegance and directness that had struck me when she performed was not a performance. It was her.

The post A Lifetime of Watching Chita Rivera appeared first on Dance Magazine.

However, there are parts of the dance world where labor-organizing efforts haven’t quite taken hold. While dancers at several operas and in two dozen or so ballet companies are AGMA members, only three contemporary dance companies are unionized: Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, Martha Graham Dance Company, and Ballet Hispánico. An ever-increasing number of dancers are freelancers, meaning they don’t have access to the traditional union organizing route. And many dancers still do nonunion work in theater, film, television, and concert tours.

Across all industries, union membership has been declining for decades. But the country seems to be in the midst of a shift: Since 2009, the number of Americans who say they approve of unions and want them to be more powerful has steadily grown. In 2022, the National Labor Relations Board reported a 53 percent increase in union election petitions over the year before, meaning that more Americans were joining together with their co-workers to try to form unions. The agency also estimates that a whopping 60 million workers wanted to join a union that year but couldn’t.

Is this pro-union boom also headed for the dance world? It might be—and it could bring some welcome changes.

Why Dancers Are Getting More Interested in Unions

Over the last few years, workers at many well-known companies, including Starbucks and Amazon, have undertaken high-profile unionization campaigns. Then there were the 2023 Hollywood strikes, where workers from SAG-AFTRA and the Writers Guild of America stood up to powerful film and television studios. Many experts have speculated that these high-profile labor actions might be fueling the increase in pro-union sentiment.

However, according to dancer Antuan Byers, who serves as dancers vice president on the AGMA Board of Governors, the breaking point for a lot of the people in the dance world seems to have been the pandemic. “Dancers felt so unprotected in a field that was already unprotected,” he says. “We felt horrible in that moment. And I think that a lot of us were looking around for an answer and we saw the unions step up to protect dancers.” Unions not only helped to establish COVID-19 safety rules, but also tried to insulate dancers from institutional budget cuts.

Lots of budding dance labor organizers are also driven by issues of equity and social justice. Research shows that unions help to dramatically reduce gender and racial disparities in pay, among other benefits for workers. “Esther,” a dancer at a midsize regional ballet company that unionized with AGMA last year, says the effort was spurred in part by the dancers’ discovery that male company members were making more than twice what similarly experienced women were paid. (Esther’s name has been changed because her company is still in the midst of bargaining for its first contract, and she fears retaliation.)

All of these influences seem to be producing a notable generational shift, according to Griff Braun, AGMA’s national organizing director. “In years past, generally speaking, it would be the younger dancers who were much more afraid of rocking the boat and of unionizing than the more veteran dancers,” he says. Not so much anymore. “Now, sometimes it’s the veteran dancers that are comfortable in their position and they don’t want to rock the boat. But the younger ones are like, ‘Hey, we’re just coming into this profession and it needs to be better,’ ” says Braun.

Where Are the Contemporary Dance Unions?

Over the last several years, a wave of smaller ballet companies have joined AGMA. But while both Braun and Byers say they’re occasionally approached by contemporary dancers who are interested in unionizing, no such wave has materialized on the contemporary side of the dance world. Why is that?

For one thing, says Byers, the union model is familiar to ballet dancers. Seeing ballet companies join AGMA’s ranks showed dancers at similarly sized companies that they could do it, too, adds Braun. Contemporary dance companies, on the other hand, tend to be much smaller than ballet companies, with, on average, fewer dancers, fewer administrative staff, and a smaller budget. Contemporary dancers are also more likely to be freelancers, and under current labor law, freelancers typically cannot form and join unions. A bill that would have changed this, the Protecting the Right to Organize (PRO) Act, has passed twice in the House of Representatives, but has yet to make it to a vote in the Senate.

A common myth that employers use to try to discourage dancers from unionizing is that it will bankrupt the company. This isn’t true, Braun explains, because once the dancers’ union is formed with AGMA, it kicks off a negotiation with the company. A company can’t suddenly be forced to pay more than it can afford. But it is true that the union organizing and bargaining processes can be more difficult with a very small group of dancers because of several factors, including the fear of individual retaliation. It can also be intimidating and awkward, notes Byers, for dancers to have to deal directly with their choreographer or director, rather than having more administrative staff as a buffer.

But lack of budget shouldn’t necessarily discourage dancers from trying to organize. Even if substantial pay increases aren’t on the table, there’s so much more that dancers can bargain for. For example, “Laura,” a dancer at another midsize ballet company also in the process of bargaining for its first contract, and whose name has also been changed, said her union is pushing to receive casting and rehearsal schedules in a timelier fashion, and to make sure there are processes in place to keep the floors they dance on in safe condition.

Finally, says Braun, a big obstacle to organizing in the contemporary dance space is the culture. Declining to name specific companies, he says that directors at some modern and contemporary dance companies have instilled a strong anti-union sentiment in their dancers, often from the moment they enter the company. This creates a culture of fear around organizing for change. But that doesn’t stop a trickle of dancers from these companies from approaching AGMA every year—so eventually, the generational shift may take hold there, as well.

The Future of Commercial Dance Work

Instead of bargaining with individual dance companies the way AGMA does, Actors’ Equity bargains with all Broadway presenters and SAG-AFTRA with all film and television producers. Historically, you get into Equity and SAG by booking a union gig, which can mean attending endless frustrating and unsuccessful cattle call auditions. In response to criticism that this model can be exclusionary, in 2021 Equity shifted to an open-access membership policy, allowing anyone with past theater credits to join. Still, joining Equity or SAG-AFTRA can feel like a gamble for many dancers—the dues are higher than in other unions, and once a dancer joins Equity, they can no longer take dance jobs at theaters that don’t have Equity contracts.

For Ehizoje Azeke, whose credits include Warner Bros.’ In the Heights, Netflix’s­ tick, tick…Boom!, and the HBO hit “Succession,” among many others, union membership is worth it. Nonunion gigs, he says, are a “Wild West.” He recalls one particular nonunion gig he did with Todrick Hall at WorldPride in 2019. At the last second, Hall and his dancers were invited to join Ciara for part of her set—but offered no additional pay. “There were 20 dancers on this project. Four of us said, ‘If you can’t pay us to do it, we’re not going to do it,’ ” he says. “But all 16 of the other dancers did that additional performance for a multimillion-dollar recording artist, for free.”

On a union gig, there would have been someone to call for help, and pay minimums for the additional work, among other protections. And the more dancers join a union and get accustomed to working under better conditions, the less likely they’ll be to accept substandard gigs. Thanks to the recent SAG-AFTRA strike, dancers will see some improvements in their work on film and television going forward. For example, they can no longer be paid less for rehearsal than for on-camera work. Azeke hopes that’s only the beginning as dancers get more engaged within the union.

The post Is Dance Poised for a Union Boom? appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Comings & Goings

Kim Chan has joined Jacob’s Pillow as associate artistic director.

César Morales has been appointed artistic director of Santiago Ballet, beginning in March.

Timour Bourtasenkov has been named artistic director of Cleveland Ballet after the company severed ties with co-founder Gladisa Guadalupe. Larry Goodman has been named CEO, succeeding Howard Bender, who had served in the role on an interim basis following the suspension and subsequent resignation of Guadalupe’s husband, Michael Krasnyansky. The cofounders’ departures come in the wake of a misconduct investigation.

Andrea Just has been named associate director and Rebecah Goldstone dramaturge of Ate9, leading the company’s new Europe team.

Charlotte St. Martin will retire from The Broadway League effective February 16. Jason Laks will serve as acting president.

David Nixon has been appointed artistic producer at Cape Town City Ballet.

Anna Hainsworth has been named Birmingham Royal Ballet’s in-house producer.

Edward Watson has been named guest répétiteur at The Royal Ballet.

Yuan Yuan Tan will retire from San Francisco Ballet after a farewell performance on February 14.

Pacific Northwest Ballet principal James Yoichi Moore will retire at the end of the season. His final performance is scheduled for June 9.

Awards & Honors

Recipients of 2024 United States Artists Fellowships, which come with a $50,000 unrestricted grant, include Mythili Prakash, Sean Dorsey, Jerron Herman, Petra Bravo, Marjani Forté-Saunders/7NMS, and Erin Kilmurray.

At the Primetime Creative Arts Emmys, Jon Boogz won Outstanding Choreography for Scripted Programming (“Blindspotting”), and Derek Hough won Outstanding Choreography for Variety or Reality Programming (“Dancing with the Stars”).

The International Association of Blacks in Dance honored the Bluff City Cluster of the LINKS Incorporated with its Distinguished Leadership Award; the Jenkins Family Foundation with the Reginald Van Lee Philanthropy Award; and Tommie-Waheed Evans with the Charles Augins Inspirational Artist Award.

Orlando Pabotoy will receive the 2023–24 Joe A. Callaway Award for excellence in choreography from the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society for his work on The Half-God of Rainfall at New York Theatre Workshop.

Karen Kain has been named the 2024 Dance in Focus Awardee by Dance On Camera.

The Martha Hill Dance Fund will present Lifetime Achievement Awards to Joan Myers Brown and Jim May and Mid-Career Awards to Jacqulyn Buglisi and Ronald K. Brown at a ceremony on February 26.

Brenda Way will be inducted into the California Hall of Fame in February.

New Funding Opportunities

CUNY Dance Initiative is accepting applications from New York City–based choreographers and companies for its 2024–25 residency cycle until February 15. More information here.

Bloomberg Philanthropies’ Digital Accelerator Program will award up to 50 qualifying non-profit cultural organizations with funding and support to strengthen their digital infrastructure. Application deadline is March 13, more information available here.

Applications for the Jerome Hill Artist Fellowships, which award Minnesota and New York City–based artists $60,000 over three years to support the creation of new work and/or artistic development, are open until April 15. More information here.

The post News of Note: What You Might Have Missed in January 2024 appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Whim W’Him had been looking for studios—roomy, open spaces in a good location—to lease since before the pandemic. But with the costs of state-of-the-art flooring, lighting, and sound systems easily totaling over $140,000, Wevers says, “investing in a space you don’t own seems very perilous.” When the company began looking to buy, a church was an obvious choice. In addition to the architectural benefits, “many churches were on the market after the pandemic,” Wevers says, “and they’re also in family neighborhoods that would attract students” to Whim W’Him’s school. 

While the remodel, overseen by architect Owen Richards,­ kept the space’s lofty ceilings, it required removing some walls and adding others to create a 2,000-square-foot studio and another half that size, as well as office space, a kitchen that doubles as a meeting room, a lobby, and storage areas for costumes and sets. The company participated in planning the half-million-dollar renovation, with the dancers designing their own lounge and changing room. There is also a space on site for them to work with a physical therapist, who is available to them after rehearsals.

The new building also boasts a school for all ages and abilities with contemporary, improvisation, hip hop, repertory, and body therapies among the initial class offerings. “It’s about dance for all ages, all levels,” Wevers says. “Dance for all without a professional hook.” Wevers also plans to offer highly subsidized or free space for local artists, as well as full scholarships for BIPOC dancers to classes and programs.

The center is an impressive accomplishment for a relatively­ small and relatively new independent contemporary dance company—but maybe not all that surprising given the consistency with which Whim W’Him has made new work and carved out an artistic niche in Seattle. Wevers, who celebrates 25 years as a choreographer this year, enjoyed a huge following as a Pacific Northwest Ballet principal before starting his own company. Since its 2009 founding, Whim W’Him has premiered 88 pieces and commissioned 45 guest choreographers in just 14 seasons, including an entirely virtual 2020–21 season that was successful enough to ensure increases in dancer salaries and benefits at a time when pandemic mitigations left most companies facing significant financial challenges.

Reaching this point “took years of consistent work,” says Wevers, “proving we could maintain our core mission of creativity as well as our ideal of elevating standards of company care for better ethical contemporary dance employment.”

Whim W’Him’s track record has helped its fundraising efforts for the center. To fund the purchase and remodel, the company received a hefty loan from an anonymous donor and a gift of $250,000 from the Jolene McCaw Family Foundation, as well as good financing. A Fall Fete early this season saw 200 people contribute over $250,000. The company has also encouraged smaller gifts through its “Butterfly Effect” capital campaign, through which donors can fund specific line items, like mirror installation, one square foot of flooring, or a single lightbulb (the cheapest option, at $6), “making it fun and affordable for everyone to participate,” says Wevers.

The first event in the completed building happens this month—an open house that will feature free community classes, workshops, performances, lectures, and building tours. Before then, “the company was just camping—the building still looked very much like a church, complete with a choir balcony and dais,” says Wevers. “Now, it’s a world-class center for dance.” 

The post Whim W’Him Opens Its Own Dance Center in Seattle appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Upon graduating from high school in 1951, Rivera booked her first performing job in a national tour of Irving Berlin’s Call Me Madam. Less than a year later, she made her Broadway debut as a principal dancer in Guys and Dolls. But the role that made her a star came in 1957 when, at age 24, she drew upon her Puerto Rican heritage as Anita in West Side Story. Dance Magazine put her on the cover for the first time that November. Inside the issue, writer Leo Lerman declared, “Here is a performer of enormous individuality with a dance approach quite uniquely her own.”

Her career took off, and held steady. In 1961, she received her first Tony Award nomination for her portrayal of Rosie in Bye Bye Birdie; in 1976, she got another for originating the role of Velma Kelly in Chicago. Rivera was quick to acknowledge that she greatly benefited from working with iconic choreographers like Jerome Robbins, Bob Fosse, Michael Kidd, and Gower Champion. They created the steps; she made them sizzle.

When a car crash in 1986 crushed her left leg, doctors told her she would never dance again. They clearly didn’t know Rivera. Within a year, she was performing in cabarets, wowing audiences with her signature irrepressible energy (even if the kicks were a little lower). She even returned to Broadway in 1993, in the title role of Kiss of the Spider Woman—for which she won a Tony for Best Actress in a Musical. In total, she appeared in more than 20 Broadway productions over the course of seven decades, receiving 10 Tony Award nominations and winning three.

In 2017, when the Astaire Awards—which honor dance in theater and film—needed to be rebranded, they were swiftly renamed the Chita Rivera Awards for Dance and Choreography. Today, a Chita Rivera Award is one of the highest honors for a musical theater dancer or choreographer. On the red carpet before the first ceremony under Rivera’s name, former Dance Magazine editor in chief Wendy Perron asked Rivera for her advice for young dancers. Rivera responded: “Keep caring. Keep dancing. Keep working hard. But most of all, keep loving, loving to dance.”

Rivera’s own love stayed strong until the end. When her memoir was released last year, Rivera told “CBS Sunday Morning”: “If I come back, I want to come back a dancer. That will be my second life.”

The post Remembering Chita Rivera, 1933–2024: “I Wouldn’t Trade Being a Dancer for Anything” appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Working With Words

Before, during, or after class or rehearsal, feel free—and even encouraged—to talk through your needs with your dance partner. Discuss what’s going smoothly, what needs improvement, and how they can provide optimal support. Open communication not only establishes a foundation for successful collaboration but also makes it easier to stay on the same page onstage.

Mikaela Santos, a dancer with Atlanta Ballet, explains that it’s important to communicate discomfort with your partner, even though it can be daunting to offer feedback that could be perceived as negative. “I’ve definitely had times when something is uncomfortable for me and I didn’t have the guts to tell my partner,” she says. “Tell your partner straight up, be honest with them, and just tell them ‘Can we work this out?’ ”

If your partner is having a hard time understanding your point of view, Martín Rodríguez, co-founder of Ballet Nepantla, a New York City–based contemporary Mexican folklórico company, says that using metaphors or simple phrases can help alleviate confusion.

Let the Body Talk

Because it’s less easy to talk onstage, dancers often rely on nonverbal communication methods like touch, pressure, and eye contact to speak to their partner without making a sound. Developing these communication skills can prove a bit more elusive than verbal language, though, so it’s important to start working on them before opening night.

To familiarize yourself with using weight and resistance as a form of communication, Rodríguez and his dance partner Maria Gracia Perez Munoz, also a performer with Ballet Nepantla, recommend a simple weight-sharing exercise in which dancers hold each other’s arms while leaning away from one another (see sidebar). Perez Munoz notes that this exercise can also be done by leaning into your partner instead of leaning away. To level up, experiment with varying the points on the body from which you apply and receive pressure. “Start looking for points of support, where both bodies touch,” she explains. “You can either slide through the skin or roll, which means changing the points of support all the time.”

The eyes also can serve as a powerful means of communication for dancers onstage. Once you establish a strong connection with your partner, eye contact becomes a way to deepen that bond. “You look to the eyes first to know what you’re going to do, like a telepathic communication,” Perez Munoz explains. “And then the body does something.” Simple in-class exercises, such as maintaining eye contact while working on improvised or choreographed phrases, can help bolster this skill.

Listening In

Whether your communication is verbal or nonverbal, it’s important to actively listen to your partner, tuning in to their needs, preferences, and ways of moving. According to Patric Palkens, one of Santos’ partners at Atlanta Ballet, listening can mean anticipating your partner’s choreography, so you can ensure you’ll be there to support them when they need it. Using the context of a classical ballet pas de deux, he explains: “Because you’re standing behind her and she doesn’t turn around to watch you, you have to watch her.”

Listening to your fellow dancer will also help build trust, which is an essential part of a successful partnership. Perez Munoz says exercises like trust falls can help with this, and she also recommends an exercise where one partner leads the other through space. “A person closes their eyes, and the other person is leading them through space by putting a hand on their back and holding the other,” she says, explaining that it is the responsibility of both the leader and the follower to make sure they stay in contact.

Palkens, Santos, Rodríguez, and Perez Munoz all agree that being a good partner is a process. It takes time to learn how to move with and anticipate the needs of another dancer, especially while also navigating the myriad demands of a dance performance. “If you don’t click in the beginning, and the communication doesn’t happen naturally, I think that with time you adjust,” Perez Munoz says. “Once you get to know what your partner likes, then you’re going to be able to lead or follow in a way they feel comfortable with.”

Sharing Weight

Ballet Nepantla dancers Martín Rodríguez and Maria Gracia Perez Munoz recommend this exercise to get comfortable communicating with your partner nonverbally.

The post How Working on Communication Skills Can Strengthen Your Partnering appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Romeo and Juliet and Couples Therapy

STANFORD, CA  What if Romeo and Juliet, instead of dying as star-crossed teens, lived to grow up and had to learn how to deal with each other? Ben Duke’s Juliet & Romeo shows the couple, now roughly 40 years old, putting on a dance theater performance for a live audience to confront their relationship troubles and the pressures of being the overgrown poster children for romantic love. Lost Dog’s critically acclaimed duet makes a rare appearance stateside at Stanford Live Feb. 1–3. live.stanford.edu. —Courtney Escoyne

Raise It Up

MEMPHIS  Hope Boykin contributes a premiere to Collage Dance Collective’s RISE program. Also on tap are the ballet that lends the program its name—artistic director Kevin Thomas’ Rise—and Amy Hall Garner’s Saint Glory, which was inspired by her grandparents’ Catholic and Baptist roots. Feb. 3–4. collagedance.org. —CE

Desert Rose

ON TOUR  ZooNation hits the road, beginning a North American tour of the Kate Prince–choreographed Message In A Bottle this month. Set to songs by Sting newly arranged by Alex Lacamoire, the dance theater work follows a displaced family as three separated siblings venture out on their own. The tour kicks off in Los Angeles Feb. 6–11 and wraps up in Philadelphia May 14–19, with stops in Denver, Chicago, Montreal, Toronto, Boston, Charlotte, Washington, DC, and New York City. sadlerswells.com. —CE

The Jilted Bride

MIAMI  To commemorate happy vows, save a piece of wedding cake. But after a jilting, what could a wronged woman do? Freeze the betrayal scene and keep wearing the bridal gown—the wounding of others to follow. Redemption, though, awaits. That’s the premise of Havisham!, Dance NOW! Miami’s site-specific reimagining of the most Gothic character from Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, Miss Havisham. Here she gains an expiatory backstory—two dancers portraying her at different periods, enamored then broken—seen from company co-director Hannah Baumgarten’s feminist perspective. To South Beach Chamber Ensemble’s pop and classical selections, Pip, Estella, and the brutish Drummle weave in and out as audiences traipse through North Miami Beach’s Ancient Spanish Monastery. Feb. 7– 8. dancenowmiami.org. —Guillermo Perez

Curated by Camille

NEW YORK CITY  Gibney’s DoublePlus continues this month with a pair of premieres by film and theater choreographer Mayte Natalio and multidisciplinary experimental artist Maleek Washington, who were selected for the program and mentored by Camille A. Brown. Feb. 8–10. gibneydance.org. —CE

Movin’ It On

DALLAS  For this year’s iteration of Dallas Black Dance Theatre’s Cultural Awareness program, company member and co-rehearsal director Hana Delong premieres Post Mortem. Joining it are His Grace, a tribute to Nelson Mandela by Christopher L. Huggins, and Matthew Rushing’s ODETTA, set to songs by songwriter and civil rights activist Odetta Holmes. Feb. 9–10. dbdt.com. —CE

New Works in Nashville

NASHVILLE  For its annual Attitude program, Nashville Ballet will debut commissions from resident choreographer Mollie Sansone, Kidd Pivot dancer Jermaine Spivey, and Camille A. Brown & Dancers member Yusha-Marie Sorzano, all with music performed live by local musicians. Feb. 9–11. nashvilleballet.com. —CE

Bach as Blueprint

NEW YORK CITY  In The Goldberg Variations, BWV 988, Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker uses one of Johann Sebastian Bach’s most well-known compositions as the blueprint for an evening-length solo. De Keersmaeker performs through the aria and 30 variations alongside pianist Pavel Kolesnikov for the North American premiere of the work at NYU Skirball. Feb. 22–24. nyuskirball.org. —CE

Liberating Lilith

SAN FRANCISCO  In Lilith, flamenco artist Fanny Ara uses the mythological figure—Biblical Adam’s first wife who abandoned Eden, variously interpreted as a force for evil or a symbol of female independence—to consider the weight of expectations imposed by herself and others, and her journey toward liberation. The evening-length solo work, premiering at ODC Theater Feb. 23–25, sees Ara joined by musicians Gonzalo Grau and Vardan Ovsepian. odc.dance. —CE

The post 9 Performances Heating Things Up This February appeared first on Dance Magazine.

More than 500 dance medicine and education professionals gather each year, both in person and virtually, to share and learn how to better achieve health for dancers, and health for our communities through dance. The most recent conference, held in Columbus, Ohio, in October 2023, hosted 121 presentations and movement/interactive sessions and 22 poster presentations by practitioners from all over the world. Here is a small sampling of the remarkable breadth of work presented and topics discussed.

• Strength and conditioning had a heightened presence, with practitioners emphasizing that dance practice and physical therapy alone will not fully support a dancer’s needs. “A physical therapist can only get you back to baseline, legally, and there is a gap between your baseline and your best, strongest self to avoid injury,” said Catherine Cullen, DPT, in a panel about optimizing training and development.

• A study of dancers at the English National Ballet School looked at the impact of the COVID-19 lockdown on musculoskeletal injuries (those that affect bones, joints, ligaments, muscles, or tendons) in pre-professional ballet dancers. Overall, dancers have a 76% injury risk, which is higher than in traditional sports. The total number of injuries sustained by dancers pre- and post-COVID lockdown was similar, but there was a significant shift from overuse injuries (such as stress fractures) pre-lockdown to acute injuries (such as sprained ankles) post-lockdown. Proportionally, there were more acute injuries in male and first-year dance students post-lockdown. (Manuela Angioi, Emily Gordon, Juncal Roman Pastor)

• Understanding and supporting neurodivergent dancers was an emerging topic. Research suggests that the link between neurodivergence and hypermobility demands more research to better understand dancers. Dr. Jessica Eccles presented her extensive research on the hypermobile population and correlations to the neurological aspects of a dancer’s experience. “Hypermobility is so much more than just having hyperflexible joints. It is having a difference in the building blocks of the body that affect almost everything,” she said. Dancers are more likely to be hypermobile than the general population. There has been research demonstrating that if a person has symptomatic hypermobility, they are seven times more likely to be autistic, and five times more likely to have ADHD. Eccles challenges practitioners that, “If we are seeing neurodivergent people, we must think about hypermobility, and if we are seeing hypermobile people, we must think about neurodivergence.”

• One study looked at coping strategies and flow state (a state of optimal experience arising from intense involvement in an activity that is enjoyable) in 293 dancers with and without post-traumatic stress disorder. 64% of the dancers had experienced significant trauma, and the prevalence rate of PTSD among those dancers was 20.8%. Dancers with suspected PTSD had increased anxiety, depression, disassociation (a state of being disconnected), and difficulty regulating negative emotions. However, despite the negative factors, dancers with PTSD experienced flow states like those dancers who had no trauma exposure, indicating the potential supportive nature of dance practice. (Paula Thomson, Sarah Victoria Jaque, Mariko Iwabuchi)

• Dancers’ use and trust of available medical support was the theme of several presentations. One study looked at the prevalence of dance-related injuries in 141 commercial dancers in the U.K., the U.S., and Europe, as well as their access and use of medical support. The primary injuries reported­ were to the lower extremities and the neck. 17% of the dancers reported five or more injuries over five years. 87% of the dancers experienced an injury and required­ health care, but 74% of the dancers with an injury did not seek health care. The most commonly cited reason for not accessing health care was that the dancer could not afford it. Many of them expressed that they did not seek care because they didn’t think that the medical providers would understand their needs. (Jeffrey A. Russell, Stephanie Petery, Leanne Hodgson, Rithiely Pereira)

IADMS’ 2024 conference will take place in Rimini, Italy, October 17–20. The 2025 conference will be held in Las Vegas, Nevada, September 25–28. n

The post The 2023 International Association for Dance Medicine & Science Conference Explored Dancers’ Physical and Mental Health appeared first on Dance Magazine.

What does it mean to you to make a ballet for New York City Ballet, where you’ve danced for almost 20 years?

I feel a huge responsibility because not many dancers in the company get asked to choreograph, especially female dancers. I’m excited that the dancers have someone at the front of the room who really knows what it means to be on pointe. Mira Nadon and I were working on her solo, and she said, “I have never been in a studio with someone who was choreographing in pointe shoes.” We were figuring it out together. I also really want to make the dancers dance. 

Can you separate your dancing self from your choreographing self?

Not really. I choreograph things that I would like to dance. I want people to enjoy the steps, and if they don’t, I can’t like the choreography, even if they’re good steps. I told them, “I want this to be something you are excited to dance.”

What music will you be using?

I’m using the Poulenc concerto for two pianos. When I told [NYCB music director] Andrew Litton I was thinking of using that music, he said, “Yes, please!” because that’s something the orchestra will be really excited to play. It’s big music, so I’ll be using a large cast, 19 dancers. It’s all about the music, and the story in the music.

Did you plan your new ballet in advance?

I didn’t really have time to plan. I sat at home with the music and the score and wrote out all the counts. I don’t need to prepare much more than that. I like to create on the people who are in the room. 

How long have you been making dances?

I’ve always kind of made dances, but my first official one was for the Vail Dance Festival in 2018. I had just gone through a divorce and I thought, Well, nothing can be as bad as that, so I might as well try! I thought it would just be one and done. But Damian Woetzel [director of the festival] kept pushing me to do more, which helped my confidence. And I think each one got a little better.

In the last few years, you’ve really taken control of your own career, like the Turn It Out with Tiler Peck & Friends performances. What drives you?

The longer I’ve been in the company, and the more I feel like I see where my career is going and have a sense of how many years I have left, I’ve realized that I don’t want to wait until I stop dancing to figure out what to do next. It’s been happening very organically because these shows are about wanting to work with certain people I never would have gotten to work with otherwise. I don’t sit around waiting for something to challenge me or help me grow artistically. I make it happen myself. I’m not scared—I’ll try anything. Playing it safe gets you nowhere.

This past fall season, you were dancing challenging repertory throughout a very difficult period, with your father in the hospital. You were traveling back and forth from California almost every week. What was that like?

Dancing was the one thing I had control over. It felt like home. One night when things were really bad, I spent the whole night on the phone with the doctors, and then I had to go onstage for the matinee. But I enjoyed every minute onstage, and I knew my father would have been so proud of me. We were taught to never quit, and to do everything 150 percent. And I think what I was feeling brought out something really beautiful in my dancing. The things that happen to us make us richer artists.

Is your love of dancing as strong as ever?

Yes. My dad, when he was at the hospital and I was doubting whether I should go back or stay with him, would say, “You were born to dance. You have to go back.” I didn’t want him to worry about me not being able to dance, or to put that extra stress on him. He was so proud. He would tell all the doctors, “You should see her dance.” 

The post Tiler Peck Choreographs Her First Work for New York City Ballet appeared first on Dance Magazine.

Olivia Boisson – Corps de ballet dancer, New York City Ballet

Having the right pointe shoe is so important. It should be an extension of your body, and that takes work and patience to find. I’m so happy that Freed has come out with a bronze color, so that my shoes don’t only fit my foot but also match my skin tone and my line. NYCB made the move to flesh-tone shoes during the pandemic, and I think it’s been wonderful.

I remember getting my first pair of pointe shoes at Capezio when I was 11 years old. I was super-excited but had no idea how hard it would be to articulate the feet, or even just be up on pointe. I think my first pointe class was half an hour long, and after just 10 minutes I wanted to take them off. They looked pretty, but they really hurt!

I’ve worn the same shoe maker since I was at the School of American Ballet: Maltese Cross. The specs of my shoe are a size 6, 1X, heel pin with forte-flex, and a 3/4 shank. I could go through a pair of pointe shoes every rehearsal, but I try to wear them for about two days each. (I remember wearing my first pair of pointe shoes for an entire year!) I spend every spare minute I have sewing so I don’t end up in dead shoes. It’s actually kind of meditative and strengthens my connection with the shoes.

Michelle Dorrance – Tap dancer and artistic director of Dorrance Dance

My shoes are my voice. They’re responsible for the tone, texture, and essence of my sound, and my sound is one of the most important parts of my artistry. Tap shoes can either be supportive or troublesome. When you break in a new pair, they don’t sound like you yet, and you have to put significant time into getting them to the right place. You wear them until they become part of your body.

My first pair of tap shoes were Mary Janes. Now, I wear customized Capezio K360s in charcoal gray because I think they sound the most like my voice. I wore my most recent pair for four years, and they are finally done. The heel cap is done, I can fold the heel down to the base of the shoe—you shouldn’t be able to do that—and there is a leather support structure that is now gone. I’m finally breaking in a new pair.

The worst thing is when you get your taps worn down to the perfect place, but the holes that the screws go in are stripped. I will use anything from a matchstick to a toothpick to tiny pieces of metal mesh and super glue to hold the screw in place. That becomes what you carry around with you, in addition to a screwdriver, to make sure you don’t lose a tap during performances or rehearsals. Otherwise, that’s the fastest way to put a huge gouge in the floor!

Hector Invictus Lopez – Heels dancer, teacher, and choreographer

The first time I danced in heels, I was told it was a waste of my time. It was 2014 and most people thought that I should focus on my masculine energy. But I couldn’t get it out of my mind, so I went shoe hunting with a friend and bought a pair of strappy black heels—the only ones in the store that came in size 12. Surprisingly, I felt very comfortable in them from the jump. I’m hyperextended with a slightly swayed back, which works well for heels, and I felt really confident and secure.

I wear shoes from the brand Burju—in fact, I have my own collection with them called Pump with Pride. They have sizes up to 15 readily available, which is amazing because when I first started out I struggled to find shoes that fit me. My favorite is a pair I designed that has an open-heel backing with the zipper on one side, and laces that go up the back and wrap around your ankle. It gives you the security of a boot with the freedom of a pump.

Dancing in heels has forced me to confront how I view gender expression. I’m Latino and grew up in the Bronx, so I’ve had a lot of layers of machismo to shed. I used to wear my heels and perform in the club and then want to take them off as soon as possible so I could be comfortable in my masculinity. Now, I’m so much more confident in exploring all the shades of who I am. I am very grateful to heels for giving me the chance to explore my identity more fully.

The post A Ballet, Tap, and Heels Dancer Each Share Their Profound Relationships With Their Signature Shoe appeared first on Dance Magazine.