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Progress Report by Sharna Fabiano

I’m blessed to have a private studio for my personal use in the home of two of my tango students. They live near me, and the 15-minute walk through a tree-lined, residential area of NW is a calming preparation for creative work. Their studio itself, with its wall of windows, is also a peaceful space to focus.

Time is an under-celebrated luxury, and having this space without the constraints of a typical shared studio schedule has contributed to my creative process, which is first and foremost about listening. On one level, it is listening to myself, honestly asking what it is that I have to say right now, at this point in my life. On another level, it is listening for a match between what I feel compelled or inspired to say, and what I see in the world around me. Without a connection to audiences, to communities, to countries even, I lose motivation. The sense of purpose returns when what I hear from my own inner spaces is echoed in my community or in the world around me.

Right now I am developing a piece around the tango embrace: its shape, its function, how it feels, how it looks, the space it creates for the two people who experience it in dancing the tango and what that space holds or excludes. Every time I begin a project there is a sort of incubation period before an actual name or story comes. I’m in this awkward period right now, and so in the studio what is coming out is very fragmented. I have an ipod playlist with a handful of songs that I am drawn to, including modern tangos by German and American composers and an Italian pop song by Gianmaria Testa. Physically, I have a handful of body shapes and short sequences that feel satisfying but very abstract, and an imaginary image of black fishnet fabric that wraps the upper body and a flowing skirt short enough to reveal the feet, which I realize I need to show in order to express some of the tiny gestures of tango footwork.

I am taking ballet classes to strengthen my sense of the arms, a part of the body that is usually out of focus in tango, but which now I am giving particular focus to in an exploration of the embrace. The word for embrace in Spanish is abrazo, which translates literally as “to the arm.” I’ve taken “Abrazo” as my working title, but I’m quite certain it will change. I imagine articulated arm movements by three, four, or six dancers in unison, and the same gestures in duet, creating a more elaborate architecture of embracing than one might see in a traditional tango dance, but which tells the story of what that embrace means to the couple. Of late, however, I’ve caught myself doing frappes to tango music while I watch students practice in my tango classes.

It’s so uncomfortable, this phase of the work. I see pieces of things but don’t have the narrative yet that will provide the logic of the piece. I know there will be several parts, at least one duet, at least one solo, and several sections of ensemble choreography. I want to know who the characters are, but so far the performers in my head are still just abstract dancers in black fishnet with precise arms and long, curving bodies. Their skirts fly behind them as they jump and twist. They are women, fierce and soft at the same time. I play with leading and following roles a lot, since they are important to the tango, and so I imagine some role-changing in the duet section or sections.

I’m also writing, right now, as a method of finding a narrative path for this piece that will make creating the physical choreography logical in my own mind, fun even, if still challenging. The writing is like a treasure hunt through the forest, with characters sometimes materializing slowly, shimmering into being, and at other times leaping quite suddenly out of the bushes. I try new movements on myself in the studio, then in later rehearsals teach them to the dancers, then adjust, alter, expand on, and make variations of them in the dancers’ bodies. “Try this” is something I’ve heard myself say a thousand times. It seems that almost everything is a “Try this” at first. My biggest challenge is to be ok with the unknown, to trust that the mist will clear over the lake, and to accept that the most efficient way for me to move along in the process is not to force the end result, but rather to let it unfold in its own way.

[editor’s note: here is a video clip from Sharna Fabiano’s “Uno”, performed by Sharna Fabiano and Francesca Janacek in 2007.]


Sharna Fabiano has a background in classical and contemporary dance, and began her Argentine tango career while living in Boston in 1997. In 1999 she co-founded the Boston Tango School and over the next several years made five visits to study tango dance and culture in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She has been educated in several traditional social tango styles by some of the greatest names in the modern Tango Renaissance, and is regarded as an innovator who has remained connected to the tango’s roots while exploring its ever-changing modern aesthetics and vocabulary.

She visited Cuba twice as a guest artist on a US-licensed cultural exchange in 2002, and following that relocated to Washington, DC where she had taught hundreds of students to dance social tango. In 2003, Sharna joined TangoMujer, an all-woman tango dance company based in NYC. TangoMujer is internationally acclaimed for choreography that incorporates theatre and modern dance, and for exploring lead and follow roles between women. In 2006, she established Sharna Fabiano Tango Company in Washington, DC. Sharna has performed at the prestigious Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival and in dozens of European and North American cities. In DC, she has danced at the Argentine Embassy, Lisner Auditorium, and Kennedy Center Millennium Stage. She has produced two of her own evening-length shows at Dance Place, and has participated in the Dance DC Festival, DC Improv Festival, and Hispanic Festival.

In 2008, Sharna was selected for Dance Magazine’s prestigious “25 To Watch List” and featured in the Washingtonian’s October Arts issue as one of the city’s “Rising Stars.” She was also honored by DC’s Filmore Arts Center as one of Washington’s most accomplished artists, and selected to show an excerpt of her all-female trio, “Uno,” at the Festival Cambalache in Buenos Aires.

Sharna is internationally recognized for her elegant, powerful dancing and for her expertise in both leading and following roles. Her choreographic works are inspired by the transformative power of human connection and community found in the tango world. Her written articles on the depth and mystique of social tango have been widely read and translated into several languages, and she has been interviewed for tango publications in Germany, the Netherlands, and the Czech Republic.

Photographs of Sharna Fabiano by Christopher Alvanas

 

The Magnetic Fields

From interview in the Onion with Stephen Merritt of the band The Magnetic Fields:

“I think the first album shows me as an aspiring surrealist, which for some reason I totally lost interest in. Since then, I think I’m an aspiring storyteller, I guess. But I’ve realized more and more that you don’t have to have very many ingredients to imply that there’s a story, without actually telling it. [You can give] the listener an impression of the story without it necessarily being there. It’s like pointillism, or cartooning, or caricature. It’s like a lot of things…”  

If you don’t know The Magnetic Fields, worth checking out; their triple album 69 Love Songs has some great stuff.

Creating ‘Love Come Down’ by Alvin Mayes

In August of 1978 I moved to DC to teach dance at the University of Maryland, and to perform with Maryland Dance Theater. The Dance Department at that time was chaired by Liz Ince, and Maryland Dance Theater was directed by Anne and Larry Warren. My first priority arriving in the area was finding a place to take class. Most people told me to try the Dance Project with Jan Van Dyke on 18th and Columbia NW in Adams Morgan.

The Dance Project became my home away from the University every Saturday morning. At the time, most of the professional modern dancers went there for class. I met many of the people with whom an artistic community would form: Carla Perlo, Jan Taylor, Karen Bernstein, Harriet Williams, Stephanie Powell, Eric Hampton, Cathy Paine, Keith Goodman, Linda Miller and Adrain Bolton. We danced in each other’s work, helped each other develop work and became each other’s support system. When Jan Van Dyke left for New York the Dance Project was sold to Carla Perlo, and the beginnings of DC Wheels Productions and Dance Place materialized.

The first dances I made away from the University were at Dance Place – then still on 18th St NW. Carla Perlo received a grant to tour a company of dancers to each ward in DC. This makeshift company performed in many alternative spaces and taught classes, introducing dance to many who had never been exposed to it. When word got out that I enjoyed working with a large cross-section of dancers, requests for dances came from many sources. I made dances on quite a number of groups in the area, including Karen & Alvin (the duet company I shared with Karen Bernstein), Perlo/Bloom and Company, Cathy Paine and Friends, Jan Taylor Dance Theater, Adrian Bolton Dance Company, Arlington Dance Theater, Jane Franklin Dance, CityDance Ensemble, CrossCurrents Dance Company, Bowen/McCauley Dance, Tommy Parlon Dance Projects and the Maryland Youth Ballet.

I have had the privilege of working with incredibly generous artists in the Washington metropolitan area for 30 years: students, professional artists, choreographers, dancers, athletes, videographers, costumers, set designers, singers, instrumentalists, poets, actors and the list goes on. I am celebrating my thirtieth anniversary in the area by doing some of the things I love most: making dances, working with artists, and singing. Happily, I have been able to do all those things at the University of Maryland and Dance Place.

Dance Place has, at its core, the mission to help develop area artists.  It has opened its arms to me many times with various projects from Alice’s Down the Rabbit Hold, to the Paradise Project:  Adam and Eve.  It is fitting that Dance Place is producing the show I am working on right now – Love Come Down

One of the dances is a reconstruction of two sections of Tahquamenon Falls, commissioned in 1994 by the Maryland Youth Ballet. This dance was brought to MYB by directors Tensia Fonseca and Michelle Lees to give the dancers experience integrating modern dance movement with classical ballet. Tahquamenon Falls is an incredible place in the upper peninsula of Michigan. In spring, the cascading water drops nearly 50 feet with amazing hypnotic power. In winter, the frozen falls produce extraordinarily dynamic ice sculptures similar to stalactites and stalagmites.

I used my feelings and recollections of T-Falls in creating this energetic work. Working with the dancers we explored finding movement from imagery, using weight to initiate level changes, especially as it applied to going from the sky into the earth safely, imitating the great waterfalls. I also introduced a number of explorations that are widely used in modern dance choreography today – how to decipher architecture of design from movement, and how to manipulate movement choreographically by reversing it, retrograding it, adding partnering and the like.

Another dance in this concert, My Journey is a collaborative work. My Journey is a collaboration between singers, a dancer, and myself (the choreographer.) Initially I wanted to use My Journey Yours, a work written by singer-songwriter Elise Witt and sung by Not What You Think (an a cappella group) to accompany the dance. The song reflects a diversity of people, similar to many communities in Washington, DC. Within NWYT we had started identifying where we are each from, where we went to school, where we traveled, where we worked, which languages we speak and how we ended up here at this moment. It was amazing how many of us were not born in the U.S., how many of us had worked in other countries and how few of us are actually from DC, even though we call it home. This is true as well for Diedre Dawkins who dances the work. In a parallel discussion, we explored personal identity, including understanding physical and emotional self, gender identity, gender issues and how we select repertoire based on sensitivity to gender. My Journey explores where we started, and culminates with where we are right now.
Alvin Mayes
One of my “loves” is bringing people of different fields and disciplines together. There is a shyness among artists when we integrate disciplines – in this case dancing and singing. Dancers respect singers, often saying, “I can’t sing.” Likewise singers are often in awe of dancers, saying, “I wish I could do that.” Then the work of making something truly unique happens – we delve with depth into our individual contributions, and what we collectively can accomplish. In creating My Journey our personal journeys united our voices. We are hoping that this process and work will eventually expand into a full evening work where roles are further developed, turned inside out, reversed, and then put back on like a familiar old sweater.

Creating this concert affords me an extraordinary opportunity to bring a community of 30 dancers and 14 musicians together in a benefit for Dance Place. Love Come Down will be at Dance Place October 18 and 19, 2008. I hope you will come be a part of this celebration.

Reconstructing Isadora Duncan’s Marseillaise by Valerie Durham

How do you go about recreating the work of a genius? I undertook that daunting and humbling task in remounting one of Isadora Duncan most legendary works, The Marseillaise.

In 1915, Isadora Duncan improvised a dance to the French National Anthem as a “call to the boys of America to stand up, and defend the greatest civilization of our epoch” (meaning France.) The dance was an impromptu offering performed on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City. The audience response to Duncan’s dance, according to press accounts, was nothing less than staggering. Standing ovations, un-abashed weeping, singing, cheering, and applause for minutes on end.

In descriptions of the event, Isadora’s movements were described as evoking some of the greatest images in French art and history, including the bas reliefs on the Arc de Triomphe, Marianne in Delacroix’s “Liberty Leading the People,” and the Statue of Liberty. Her dance was described as “imperious, with proud, wide gestures, beckoning to a great unseen army that seemed to fill the stage at her magnetic command.”

Image: Liberty Leading the People

A few years ago, soon after 9/11, when patriotism was high in America, and countries around the world, including France, were rallying to our support, I was asked by a non-profit organization to dance The Marseillaise – Isadora’s Marseillaise – at one of their events. The problem was that The Marseillaise is a lost choreography! There are no pictures or video from performance.

Isadora Duncan died suddenly in a tragic car accident in 1927, without filming a single one of her dances (even though the technology was available). Yet today, over 200 ‘authentic’ Duncan choreographies are still performed. How is that possible, when so little documentation exists?

The choreographies and technique that have been passed down from Isadora Duncan are actually the work of Isadora’s primary pupils. The “Isadorables” as they were dubbed by the French press, they performed and trained extensively with Isadora. While Isadora was alive, the Isadorables learned the group dances that Isadora set on them. But they also watched and studied Isadora’s own solos, mainly from the wings while performing with her.

The first performance of the Marseillaise was performed in New York without any of the Isadorables present, and it was improvised, so no one could even have watched a rehearsal. The dance vanished into the ether as she performed, and when she finished, it was gone. Isadora re-danced the Marseillaise at the Trocadero in Paris, and on tour in South America, but again, her troupe of dancers were not with her, and so did not have a chance to learn the piece. Resultantly, the Marseillaise was not passed down as the rest of the repertory that we have today.

I found myself in a difficult situation. I wanted to complete the commission, but how could I to stand in Isadora’s place and pretend to have actually recreated what has been called the tour de force of her career? I found courage in Isadora’s own urging that to perform her work all dancers must try to “breathe its life, to recreate it in one’s self, with personal inspiration.”

I began the process by researching all that had been written about Isadora’s improvisation, from her own account in her autobiography to articles written in newspapers after the event. What I learned there led me to study the sources of inspiration for Isadora. The bas relief images from the Arc D’Triomphe and the figure of Marianne from “Liberty Leading the People” were particularly inspirational for me. I knew from earlier research that Isadora studied the precondition and post-effect of images, and used that as a resource in her dance. I let myself consider her images in the same way.

An additional resource was my own experience with and knowledge of other known Isadora choreographies. I have danced her Schubert Symphony #9 Finale, Tchaikovsky Pathetique Symphony, Amazons, and March Militaire as passed through Duncan Dance Masters Lori Belilove, Julia Levien, Hortense Kooluris, Sima Leake, and later Jeanne Bresciani. From these dances and training, I came to understand how Isadora might have expressed this particular heroic, militaristic aesthetic in her choreography, and the musicality connecting those movements. From all of this research and training, I had confidence in my ability to imbue my version with authenticity and truly personal expression.

I began to become comfortable projecting an understanding of the type of movements and motivations Isadora may have employed in her choreography. My next challenge was locating a recording of the music that would be appropriate for the Duncan technique and musicality.

Isadora’s performance used the first four stanzas of Rouget de Lisle’s text, and a version of the music officially selected by the French government in 1887, which is a bit different from the version we hear today. I listened to multiple versions of the song, ranging from versions performed by child choirs to performances by military bands. I was fortunate to find a truly inspiring version of the Marseillaise, featuring the magical voice of Placido Domingo, conducted by Hector Berlioz. The only problem was that it was all six verses!

I decided to choreograph the entire six verses, over 11 minutes in length.

The resulting choreography told the story of an entire war. With an initial foray into battle, the rallying cry and scouting of the enemy troops, the actual engagement of fighting results in soldiers falling, until the solo dancer is the only one left standing. She calls to God, and raises her fallen comrades to charge again, this time victoriously defeating the enemy. Throughout the piece, the choreography incorporates gestures of a flag being held, carried and waved, which represents a rousing and patriotic image for the troops in the battle.

By utilizing the steps of 1) research, 2) knowledge of the technique, 3) proper music, 4) personal artistry, and 5) a hefty dose of audacity and humility, I have created a dance that honors the tradition of Isadora’s genius choreography. While I can never know what Isadora’s exact movements were that amazing night at the Met in 1915, I feel confident that I have created a dance that approaches the types of movements and the kinds of emotions Isadora would have pursued in that effort to inspire that New York audience.

For this year’s presentation at the Capital Fringe Festival in DC, I condensed the longer work that I created into a one-verse iteration. The shortened dance lacks the dramatic story of the longer one, but captures the enthusiastic call to action that initially inspired Isadora to improvise the French anthem.

I’d love to hear what you think.

Valerie Durham is a 4th generation Duncan Dancer, and the Artistic Director of The Duncan Dancers. She offers classes in the Duncan Technique at the DC Dance Collective. Visit www.duncandancers.com for more information.

Local History: Jan Tievsky on Glen Echo Dance

When I arrived in Washington in 1975, the dance landscape looked radically different from today. There were very few modern dance studios or professional dance companies. There were even fewer performing venues available to the companies that existed. I decided to create a dance center to help fill the void. After pursuing a variety of location options, I settled on Glen Echo Park as the home of my imagined dance program.

To most people at that time, it was an unlikely choice; a decrepit amusement park with buildings dating from the turn of the century through the 1920’s, filled with a hippie-like group of artists and set outside the city. The Park Service warned me that other dancers before me had tried unsuccessfully to start a dance program at Glen Echo, including Jan Van Dyke, the grande dame of DC modern dance. I was undeterred – partially by my stubbornness, partially by my belief that what I was attempting to create was so unique it had to succeed. What I envisioned was a dance center that would have a professional modern dance repertory company that would provide opportunities for emerging choreographers, an apprentice dance program for developing a new generation of modern dancers, a studio that offered study in a variety of disciplines but focused on modern dance and a Summer Dance Festival that would provide exposure for local dance to the entire metropolitan area. Glen Echo, with its large facilities, artists’ community (which provided countless opportunities for multidisciplinary work), and potential support by the National Park Service, seemed to be the perfect location.

I offered my first classes at Glen Echo during the summer of 1976. The space I was given was the Spanish Ballroom, a magnificent space during the 1920’s, but at that time boarded up and filled with broken glass, fleas and raccoons (both dead and alive). With fellow dancer and good friend Stan Fowler, the beautiful maple floor was cleaned enough to hold a summer session of modern dance classes. However, as the weather turned cold, the space was no longer suitable and I brought my students to Mt. Vernon College, where I was teaching in the adult education program.

The following spring, I asked the Park Service to allow me to expand the summer program to include more classes, and performances by local dance companies. They agreed, allowing me to present the first Summer Dance Festival at Glen Echo. One of the more memorable performances of that inaugural summer was by the newly created Washington Ballet, featuring a young, unknown choreographer named Choo San Goh.

Unfortunately, I was for the most part, working alone. My only help came from Stan, who provided technical assistance for the performances. In addition, I taught all the classes. At the end of the summer, the dance program was the largest program at the Park, and I applied for a year-round facility and permission to expand the program further.

In August of 1977, I was given the use of a fairly large room beneath the Park offices. It had a terrible floor for dance, linoleum over concrete, but it was heated. I immediately held auditions for what was to be the first modern dance company at Glen Echo Park. The dancers I hired were selected not only for their talents as dancers and dance teachers, but because they also shared the vision I had of creating a very different kind of dance program. Those first dancers were Cheryl Koehler, who was also an accomplished choreographer and musician, Becky Westwood, Roberta Rubin, Steve Johnson, Stan Fowler and apprentice dancer Linda Hindley. Within a few months we added two other dancers, Sandy Asay and John Kramer, and Glen Echo Dance Theater was born. During the first year, we performed works that Cheryl and I choreographed and also had a new work created for us by Greg Reynolds, a former dancer with the Paul Taylor Dance Company. Greg was now looking to make a name for himself as a choreographer and was eager to have a company to choreograph on. Our first performance was held in the Adventure Theater at Glen Echo Park and we received a promising review from George Jackson.

The first year was primarily one of development: developing the company as a coherent group of dancers, developing choreography from within and outside the company, teaching classes and securing funding for the festival and a more permanent studio space. There was great progress made during that first year. In addition to the growth of the dancers and the repertory, our studio grew exponentially. We had so many students that we had clearly out grown the space we were using. At that time, one of the resident artists at the Park decided to move on, leaving her space, the old Hall of Mirrors, vacant. It could provide us a home with a nice sized studio on a suspended wood floor, dressing rooms and office space. I applied for residency status and was awarded that status in 1978. Now we had a permanent home for classes and rehearsals, plus the use of the Spanish Ballroom for performances.

However, both spaces were in need of major work. The studio needed to be converted from a one-room pottery studio into the divided spaces that we required. Most important was the need to cover the aging and splinted wood floor with a suitable dance floor. The Ballroom needed even more work. We had completely cleaned up the space, but its vast size, lack of audience seating or designated performing space and no theatrical lighting meant all performances had a very informal feel to them. What we really needed to do was to retrofit the building to create a real dance theater.

The studio transformation came first. Stan, who was an electrician, chemist and a bit of an engineer, in addition to being a dancer, designed a studio floor. Steve Carty, an apprentice to the company and Alex Rounds, who was one of my students in the very first contact improvisation classes taught in Washington, worked with Stan to build the studio. Both men continued to dance in Washington. Alex became a very accomplished and well-known dancer in the contact-improvisation world.

Then came the Ballroom. Stan, who was at that time hired by the National Park Service to provide technical assistance throughout the Park, managed to procure theatrical light fixtures from some of our ‘sister’ parks, including Wolftrap. He also picked up scrap metal parts such as old World War II bomb holders and metal pipe to create a grid that would be suspended from the Ballroom ceiling and support the lights. We requisitioned risers and chairs for audience seating, rolling space dividers to create wings and ultimately rented and purchased theatrical curtains, masking and an enormous custom made cyc for a backdrop. By the summer of 1978, the Spanish Ballroom had been converted into one of the nicest performing spaces available to the local dance community. In addition to the physical space, through state, county and private grants and donations, the Summer Dance Festival was able to provide paid performing opportunities to professional companies and free performing opportunities to emerging or student companies. These performances included performing space, all technical assistance, publicity, and often a much-needed review and/or video services. Dance companies were exposed to new audiences, as the festivals would draw generally 3,000 people over the course of a day. The festivals, which ran over the entire summer, from 1978 – 1990, had a variety of workshops, master classes, lecture-demonstrations and both formal and informal concerts on stages set up all over the Park. Not only was this of great benefit to the dance community, the greater Washington area benefited by having so many exciting dance opportunities offered throughout the summer at no virtually no cost! All of the events, with the exception of the evening concerts in the Ballroom theater, were offered for free. Artists who performed in the Festival included Liz Lerman/Dance Exchange, Tish Carter and Nancy Galeota’s New Moves, Sharon Wyrrick, Sally Nash, Debbie Kanter, Maryland Youth Ballet, Eric Hampton, and also companies from outside Washington, including the Jose Limon Company.

As the Festivals grew in size and stature, so did the studio and the company. Studio classes were offered by some of the best teachers in the metropolitan area, including advanced ballet for modern dancers with Ann Parsons and Mimi Legat and modern dance with Pola Nirenska. In addition to teaching classes, Pola came to Glen Echo to choreograph on both the resident company and also a series of guest dancers including Rima Faber and Collette Yglesias. The company had numerous critical successes and was featured in such prestigious venues as City Dance at the Warner Theater and a residency at ArtPark, in NY. Over the years, many outstanding dancers were members of Glen Echo Dance Theater including Nancy Galeota, Tish Carter, Ellie Denker, Katie Fowle, Jeff Moreland, Beth Davis, Bonnie Slawson, Betsy Eagan, Stephanie Simmons, Susan Hannan, Tom Truss, etc. In the late 80’s I expanded our residency to include Liz Lerman/Dance Exchange. The apprentice dance program, one of the few modern based apprentice programs in the country at the time, trained numerous young dancers who went on to dance in professional companies in NY including Leslie Ruley, (Nikolais), Debbie Cohen (Mark Dendy) and Beck Jung (Pilobolus) as well as other dancers who joined Washington based companies.

Many dancers and dance writers in Washington describe that time period, the late 1970’s through 1990, as the ‘heyday of Washington dance’. I like to think that Glen Echo Dance Theater had some part to play in that.