Carlos Velazquez: What is Dance?

on

|

views

and

comments

I’m not sure what is dance, I’m sure what movement means to me, but the whole idea of “dance” brings to my mind a lot of mixed feelings. “Dance” as a concept is attached to a series of images that direct our attention to the stages, to an artist making shapes with their body; dance as a division between the artist and the audience. And for me dance is about sharing; sharing experiences, sharing feelings, always trying to communicate about something through movement, not only as a dance. Movement as a ritual, movement as a catharsis, movement as an expression. Movement from a pedestrian walking to an abstraction of that concept. Dance is life, everybody moves around the world, in their offices, in the supermarket, in the parks, there is movement everywhere and we are so lucky to be part of that collective dance that the world creates around us. That is the real dance, the one that we don’t notice in our daily basis.

– Carlos A. Cruz Velázquez

carlos-mfa-1Born in Puebla, Mexico, Carlos started his dance training learning Mexican Folk Dance when he was six years old. Since then he has had performed with Compania Sunny Savoy and Cava~Parker Dance, among other companies and groups. He is co-founder and artistic director of colectivodoszeta and of Tlaxochimaco Mexican Artists Showcase. He holds a MFA in Dance from NYU-Tisch School of the Arts and is a Fulbright and FONCA-CONACULTA grantee.

Editor
Editorhttp://www.dayeight.org
Bourgeon’s mission, through our online publication and community initiatives, is twofold: to increase participation in the arts and to improve access to the arts. Bourgeon is a project of the not-for-profit Day Eight.
Share this
Tags

Must-read

Two Poems by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

The Yellow Door By ramrod fleet, by coonskin cap,walking contraband visits the shops,in this one and out that one,purchases wrapped under arm or carriedin tiny...

That Winter Afternoon by Michael Gushue

In the third grade, I sat in the last row.Chalk dust whisper down the slate blackboard.The radiators hammered like anvilsthroughout the morning. In the...

Still Mourning on a Foggy Morning After Grandma’s Funeral

Clouds weep on theWindows adding their sorrow to my unchecked sadness. Sun tries to drysky’s tears, shine throughbut fog shrouds sky,effectively blockingany warmth from...
spot_img

Recent articles

More like this

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here