Archive for the ‘2007 | 12 | December’ Category

Columns
Ask Rhee Gold 
2 Tips for Teachers   
On My Mind    

Departments
Thinking Out Loud | Flexibility: The Key to Retaining Students
Mail 
Teacher in the Spotlight | Dana VanPell-Pastirik

Feature Articles
Ballet Scene | Tapping Into Your Potential
New York and the Nobletts
Bringing Back the Beat by Heather Wisner
Going Public With Private Lessons by Jennifer Rienert
What are Parents Thinking!? by Diane Gudat
True Meaning of Christmas by Rachel Straus
Common Ground | Small-Screen Dancing, Big-Time Impact
Rhythm Boot Camp by Mike Wittmers
Clogging by Lea Marshall
Dancing With Risk by Lisa Traiger

Dear Rhee,
I know you have had a lot of experience in the competition field and I am hoping that you can help with me with some advice on how to become a judge. For the past couple of years I have been sending my resume to many of the national competitions inquiring about a judging position, yet no one ever contacts me.

My credentials include dancing on Broadway, on tour, and in videos with Janet Jackson, Madonna, and others. I have appeared in soap operas, movies, and almost every other professional venue out there. Last week I went to observe a competition and discovered that the judges had very little professional experience and most of them were from small-town dance schools with no professional performance credentials. How do the directors of competitions skip over my experience in favor of a local dance teacher with no experience? What do I have to do to get on a judging panel? I would think my experience would put me at the top of the list, especially above the rinky-dink dance teacher. Please help. Thanks. —Gordon

Hello Gordon,
I am so glad you wrote, because I feel like you’re not alone in your thinking. As a former competition director, I appreciate the opportunity to express my views on this subject—although I have a feeling you might not like my answer.

First and foremost, the professional credentials you have do not make you a qualified judge for dance competitions. The most important credential is experience in the classroom, which gives judges the professional know-how of what it takes to get a group of 10-year-olds to dance on the same foot on the same beat in the music. These “rinky-dink” teachers, as you call them, do understand what it takes to make a group of children look good because they work with them on a daily basis, year in and year out. You do not.

In your email you do not mention any experience teaching or choreographing for children. That’s the professional experience that these teachers have that you do not. In my opinion the best judges are those who teach or are studio owners. You should be proud of your accomplishments, but they do not make you more qualified to judge a dance competition than the average dance teacher.

If you really want to be a judge, get rid of the attitude that you are better than those who are judging now and get yourself into one of these “rinky-dink” dance studios to see what it takes to be a professional dance teacher. Try your hand at choreography for a group of 7-year-olds or beginner teenagers so that you can sit in a judge’s chair with a true understanding of what you are watching and what it takes to make it happen.

I apologize if this response seems harsh, but I have heard your story many times and I’ve never had the opportunity to express my feelings on the subject. Add to that the fact that I am proud of the “rinky-dink” blood that flows through my veins and I relish the opportunity to defend the thousands of dance teachers who are working in the trenches every day. Thank you. —Rhee

Dear Rhee,
Today I feel like I want to close shop. I just received a call at home from an irate mom who is questioning the class placement of her child. It’s the same old story of the mom who believes that her child is better than everyone else in the class, but this situation is more than that because this woman is beginning to scare me. 

I asked her to stop calling me at home, and she has called me three times since then. She always tells me that she is sorry to bother me at home, but then she goes on a rant for anywhere from a half-hour to two hours. She cries and cusses me out every time and today, before she hung up on me, she told me that I should watch my back because she wasn’t going to take it anymore.

I can’t take another call or another rip-the-dance-teacher-apart session. I am confident that her child is in the right class and I know the child knows that too. She is always happy in class and I can tell that she is embarrassed by her mom’s actions. How do I get this to stop? Do I throw the kid out? And if I do that, will this mom be lurking in my driveway one morning, ready for a fight or worse? I think I’m dealing with a very unstable person. Any ideas for dealing with her would be appreciated. —Gina

Dear Gina,
This is serious and not the typical disgruntled-parent scenario that so many of us deal with. As far as I am concerned, you are being harassed and when she told you to watch your back, she threatened you.

In my opinion, the child and the mom have to go, and that’s too bad for the child because she has to live with her unstable mother every day. Before you do anything, you need to go to your attorney to discuss what has transpired so far. If I were in your place, I would ask the attorney to contact this parent to let her know that she and her child are not welcome at your school and that she should refrain from contacting you again. If she persists, then it may be time for a restraining order, which your attorney can help make happen.

In the meantime, you have the power to refuse to listen to this parent when she calls you at home. Screen your calls or at the least, when she calls, tell her you’d be happy to discuss her concerns at the studio and that she should call the school’s office manager or secretary if she’d like to make an appointment. Then politely say goodbye and hang up. Another option is to change your home phone number and do not list it in the phone book. If she obtains it anyway, then continue to politely refuse her calls.

It is too bad that there are parents who act like this; I can only imagine the influence that her actions have on her child. However, you don’t deserve to be harassed or threatened one second longer. Go to your attorney right away and get this behind you. Good luck! —Rhee

Dear Rhee,
Your magazine is such an inspiration for me and I love to read about dance teachers who are dealing with the same issues I am. When I read your advice column, I feel like you are right on. So I have decided to throw a question your way.

When I was growing up in a dance school, I had a very loving teacher who had a passion that rubbed off on me. However, I learned early in my teaching career that my training was not all that good. Since I opened my school, I make it a point to learn as much as I can by spending my summers studying in New York and Los Angeles, training and observing classes in every style and level that I teach. I know that I’ve become a strong teacher because of my consistent continuing education and my desire to learn.

Today my school has seven faculty members from a variety of backgrounds and experience. Some of them come from the same kind of training that I did. They all love what they do, but I know they need more knowledge in order to offer the kind of dance education that I want for my students. I hear that there are teacher-training programs out there, but I have never been to one. Are they something that will help my teachers become better, and where do I find them? Any information you can offer is appreciated. —Shelby

Hello Shelby,
I appreciate your drive to learn and be the best teacher you can be—you should be proud of yourself for taking the initiative to always improve your knowledge. That’s what makes a good teacher!

Throughout my dance life, I have been involved in many of the teacher-training programs, especially those associated with the dance teacher organizations. Actually, I am a proud graduate of the Dance Teachers Club of Boston Teacher Training School, and as a past president of Dance Masters of America, I was involved in their program at the University of Buffalo. And there are others that I have been a guest speaker for, including the Chicago National Association of Dance Masters, Cecchetti Council of America, and Dance Educators of America, among others.

I am an advocate for these programs because, for the most part, they are developed by organizations that represent the private-sector dance educator. They know the classrooms that we come from and they understand the knowledge and tools we need to handle the variety of styles and skill levels that are unique to the private-sector dance educator. Some programs are offered over a series of years, concluding with a certificate of completion. Others are more intense and last a shorter period of time. Many are now offering post-graduate programs for teachers who complete the program but still want to continue their study.

You can find ads for these programs in many of the national dance publications, including Dance Studio Life at times, and if you type “dance-teacher training schools” in your browser, you’ll discover a ton of options. I wish you and your faculty the best in your pursuit to be the best dance educators you can be. —Rhee 

By Mignon Furman

TIP #1: Corrections
Do not give instructions through the music. If a dancer is not performing the steps correctly, stop the music and correct the steps. Do not give more than two corrections at a time. If more than two are necessary, let the dancers get the first two correct before proceeding with further corrections.

TIP #2: Communication
Keep your words focused. Do not ramble on and talk too much during a class. Let the students dance to maintain the rhythm and dynamics of the class.

There is a correct way for teachers to ask a question in a class. Do not allow the students to shout a collective response or make a show of hands. Rather, make certain that the class is attentive, ask the question, look at each dancer in turn, and then call one by name to answer. If the answer is not correct, request the answer from another dancer, without making the first dancer feel inadequate.

by Rhee Gold

What does the holiday season mean to dance teachers? For many the Nutcracker season is in full swing, while others are rehearsing for that special holiday performance. Some are frantically getting their costume orders together and others are locked in their studios trying to get their competition choreography looking halfway decent before the first time out. For these teachers, the few days they will have off this holiday season won’t come quickly enough—or last long enough.

The big question is what to do with those days off. Should it be spent preparing a new mailing to help bring in new students for the January semester? How about using the time to edit the music that’s sitting in the “to do” pile? Should we call extra rehearsals? Or will we actually take a few days off to be “real people, with normal lives?” I’m going for the last option this year.

Sure, things that I need to get done will pop into my mind during my “normal person” break. But I have to remind myself that someday dance might be a done deal in my life, leaving me with my family, my friends, and the lifelong memories that spending time with them brings.

I’ve also learned that I am better at what I do when I have the chance turn off the dance button for a few days. Reading a good book is one good way to do it. And for some reason, lying in bed and watching a couple of movies—the kind that don’t require a lot of thinking—makes me much more creative when I go back to work. Taking a long walk on the beach helps to clear my head and often starts the creative juices flowing. Whatever I decide to do to get away from it all, I know that by taking that mini “vacation,” I nourish my soul—and that drives my passion for dance. And that’s just what we all need.

In my travels I meet so many dedicated dance people who are workaholics. They never make the time to simply stop, to “turn off the dance” for a while. Some feel guilty just thinking about it and others think they’ll fall behind. Let it go—you deserve time for yourself. Give yourself a chance to reinvigorate that dance spirit that we all need in this field. Let that be your gift to yourself this holiday season.

Before you kick back, though, you probably have a mile-long list of things to do. We can help. This month’s issue will give you a burst of pre-holiday–season renewal, so browse through it and treat yourself to a good story. If you are long overdue for a laugh, turn immediately to our latest story from Diane Gudat. You’ll identify with her laundry list of complaints about parents, and I dare you to read it without cracking a smile. The tap dancers among you will enjoy our focus section on tap, with stories about musicality and rhythm, Dianne “Lady Di” Walker and the tap revival of the 1980s, why tap makes ballet dancers better at what they do, and tap’s country cousin, clogging. For personal inspiration, read about the influence of New York City on the Noblett family or the warm tale of one dance teacher who showed a fellow teacher (and her students) what the true meaning of Christmas is. On the business side, check out our story on private lessons—maybe adding them to your studio’s offerings will be your New Year’s resolution.

I wish you a peaceful holiday season and all the best for 2008!

By Melissa Hoffman

I am often asked why my school has so many high-school–age dancers when many teachers say that they tend to lose students once they hit age 13 or 14. The answer is simple: flexibility. I have learned to know where I can be flexible with the intensive dancers’ schedules and where I cannot.

One of the most common reasons why teenage dancers stop taking dance classes is the time needed for school activities and after-school jobs. Such activities are more important than ever for students who plan to attend college. Colleges today are looking for students who are well rounded, and that often means participating in school activities. A flexible dance schedule is crucial if they are to find other activities they can participate in. Teenagers may also need to have part-time jobs for gas money or college expenses. For this reason I offer paid assisting jobs to most of my advanced intensive dancers. Since they are making some money, they are less likely to leave for an after-school job.

Knowing where to be flexible is the key. We require our advanced dancers to participate in two ballet classes, one jazz technique class, and a modern class each week; that’s six hours. These requirements can be fulfilled in two days. I keep this in mind when I’m working on a schedule. Though tap, acro, and pointe are not required, many students choose to take them; if they need to lighten their schedule I suggest dropping one of these optional classes first.

Keeping the requirements in mind, the dancers and I can compromise on scheduling when conflicts arise. For example, many school activities are short lived, often about six weeks. It would be a shame if someone were to drop out of dance completely because of a short-term commitment. In such cases I suggest that to fulfill their dance requirements they take a ballet class, for example, on a different day, even perhaps at a lower level, for the duration of their school activity. The one area I cannot be as flexible in is choreography. Our dancers have six hours in which to learn a routine, so missing a rehearsal is not an option. However, I have learned to be creative in working with outside schedules.

Sometimes students are given opportunities that they can’t afford to pass up, even when it means having to drop out of dance because of a rigid studio schedule. Our local high school has more than 320 members in its band, including many of our dancers. Next summer the band is traveling to the Olympic Games in Beijing, China. What a chance of a lifetime! Knowing this, I obtained the practice schedule and have been able to work around it without much effort. But had I not made the extra effort, I might have lost the dancers in this group—after all, who would not want to participate in the Olympics?

Next summer the high school band is traveling to the Olympic Games in Beijing. Had I not accommodated their schedule, I might have lost these dancers.

Another issue is accommodating dancers on the high school dance team and cheer squad. To help resolve that potential conflict, I chose to coach the dance team. I work the practice schedule around the students’ studio schedules (mine and others’), and I have not found the schedule to be unreasonable. However, if at times a compromise cannot be reached, I work with those dancers to help keep them active in the studio.

Often the top dancers are also some of the brightest teenagers. I believe it is important for school owners to keep in mind that at times the homework load for high school students can be intense, particularly during finals week. Offer some flexibility on those rare occasions when a dancer must leave early or miss class due to homework obligations.

In a day and age when there are so many outside pressures on teenagers, and when getting good grades is simply not enough to get into the college of their choice, I believe it is important to work with students so that dance can continue to be their passion and the studio offers them a place where they don’t feel pressured. By making some compromises in scheduling, without compromising their training, we can retain and continue to nurture the teenage student. Although some school owners may feel that it takes too much effort to work with outside schedules, I believe that the dancers benefit from it. Yes, they can continue dancing, but they also learn an invaluable life lesson: how to compromise.

Words from our readers

Thanks so much for a fabulous magazine. I look forward to receiving it each month. I find so many useful and informative articles, and I pass it on to my staff each month so they can also enjoy and take advantage of all the great information in each issue!

I want to thank you particularly for the article [“Middle School Girls Gone Wild,” July 2007] about the indecency in some dance performances. I was glad to see that someone else shares my disgust at the current trends in dance. It seems to be what audiences crave; the scantily clad students, some as young as 5 and 6, are rewarded for their efforts with thunderous applause! This season we lost our entire senior class of students to a studio that promotes that style of dance. I’ve been a studio owner for 11 years and have always been conscious of the fact that our young students are naïve and innocent. We strive to allow them to remain children as long as possible. My mantra has always been that I know they are going to be exposed to lewd and inappropriate lyrics, as well as choreography, in music, on TV, the Internet, and even at school. However, it doesn’t have to be within my walls.

I’ve thought about the possibility of forming a group of instructors and studio owners to promote decency in dance. I believe that dance is a beautiful, pure art and I refuse to teach a style of dance that is not suitable for family entertainment. I don’t think I’m alone in my beliefs. If there are others out there who feel the same way I do, I would love to hear about it. Maybe, if enough of us joined together, we can bring back the pure art of dance.
Kim Yarborough, Director
Step Ahead Dance Studio, Garner, NC

I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the article in your August issue [“Big-Time Marketing,” which includes Boston Ballet School]. It was really terrific and I hope it gave some of the smaller schools some good ideas. We actually received a couple of phone calls from some companies asking for some follow-up materials and our permission to borrow the format.
Elizabeth Benjes, Managing Director
Boston Ballet School, Boston, MA

Thank you, Dance Studio Life magazine and Sharon DiCrosta! We were so pleased to finally see an article about the reality of competition [Thinking Out Loud, “Turn Back the Clock on Competitions,” September 2007]. For years we have been frustrated that the majority of other competitions have changed their award levels and the standards of competition with their position that “everyone should feel good.” Yes, we want all the dancers to feel good, but we also want them to be proud of their achievements. At least when they come to a Headliners competition they know they earned the award they received. It’s nice to know that there are teachers that still appreciate honesty and awards realistic to the scores received and that are proud to have their students work to reach a goal. Congratulations to you!
Irma Ziegler and Shari Tomasiello, Nationals Directors
Headliners Competition, Randolph, NJ

This is a first—responding to a letter in a magazine—however, I was saddened by the events Kali presented concerning her mother [“Ask Rhee Gold,” Dance Studio Life, September 2007].

Kali, your mother definitely should not give up. I am a former studio owner with 25 years of ballet teaching experience. A discourteous student is dealt with very quickly in ballet. Why permit teenagers to destroy your confidence? Their judgment is based on—what? You are a capable teacher; they are immature teens. Keep the studio image you want and lose these ingrates. Assure them their safety is a primary consideration and they lack the ability to safely do hip-hop. Do recommend knee insurance and send them on their way. I hope [your mother] has had second thoughts and realizes she must continue to pursue her life’s work. She is needed.
Rita Colby
Ballet Basics & DansArts, New York City

I received many lovely comments from a wide range of people on the article you did on me and my studio in your Dance Studio Life “Teacher in the Spotlight,” [September 2007]. I appreciate it very much. When I read the magazine I think of Rhee’s mother. She was a fantastic teacher.
MaryAnn DeNucci Langone
The MaryAnn Studio of Dance, Springfield, MA

Owner, director, teacher, A Step in Time Family Dance Center, Sayreville, NJ

NOMINATED BY: Lois VanPell, her mother: “Dana receives many compliments from parents about how she inspires children to gain confidence, responsibility, and poise. She is a mentor to many students. Many special-education teachers refer their students to Dana. After taking dance classes with Dana, these students show much improvement, according to their teachers and parents. Not only does she pass on her love of dance to her students, she gives them the encouragement to do whatever they set their minds to.”

AGES TAUGHT: 18 1/2 months to adult

Dana VanPell-Pastirik works with student Lauren Rueckher in a senior dance team rehearsal. (Photo by Chris Marconi)

GENRES TAUGHT: Creative movement, ballet, tap, jazz, lyrical, pointe. My studio also offers hip-hop, floor gymnastics, and Mommy and Me.

TEACHING DANCE FOR: 13 years

WHY SHE TEACHES: I had much trouble in academics as a child, and dance was always my love. As I got older I thought I wanted to be a professional dancer, but after dancing with a tap company for five years I realized that my love was more in teaching than performing.

GREATEST INSPIRATION: Karen Calloway-Williams, a dancer and former teacher who I met in the tap company, was my mentor. She taught me a lot about the art of rhythm tap and performing and teaching. My mother, Lois VanPell, is also a great inspiration. She keeps me focused on where my love and talent is.

PHILOSOPHY OF TEACHING: I love to make dance class fun for all ages. In my studio we focus on confidence and self-esteem. Recreational students and team students all get the same attention. Special-education students are also welcome and enjoyed at my studio; my special-education background as a teacher’s assistant helps me work with them. I enjoy the challenge of every student who comes to my studio, whether they show interest in becoming a professional dancer or just dance for the enjoyment of it.

WHAT MAKES HER A GOOD TEACHER: When I walk into my classes I make sure the kids know that I’m excited to be with them and teaching them to my best ability. The children feed off of my positive attitude, which helps keep the dance-room atmosphere calm and enjoyable for all.

FONDEST TEACHING MEMORY: I feel that every day in my dance studio is a memory. Seeing all the students grow with me, and how they improve week by week, year by year, makes wonderful memories for the students and myself.

Best piece of advice for students and/or teachers: Continue to love what you do. Always keep dance in your heart and you will be the best dance teacher you can be.

WHAT SHE WOULD DO IF SHE COULDNT TEACH DANCE:  I’d be a special-education schoolteacher.

MORE THOUGHTS ON DANCE AND TEACHING: Owning a dance studio is much more than just teaching. Some days it’s a real challenge to handle the business, married life, and a family and still make time for yourself. But there is nothing more in the world I would like to do.

Do you know a dance teacher who deserves to be in the spotlight?  Email your nominations to Cheryl@rheegold.com or mail them to Theresa Genier, Rhee Gold Company, 10 South Washington St., Norton, MA 02766. Please include why you think this teacher should be featured in Dance Studio Life, along with his or her contact information.

How tap training benefits ballet dancers

By Joshua Bartlett

Tap and ballet. They’ve been the bread and butter of most American dance studios since the post-Depression years. Today studios offer a variety of other dance forms like lyrical, modern, hip-hop, and body conditioning courses like Pilates. But the combination of tap and ballet as a basic dance curriculum has produced a steady crop of dancers for each generation.

So if these two very different dance forms have provided the backbone of American dance training, how do they relate in terms of exchanging technical and artistic benefits to dancers? More specifically, how does studying tap help ballet dancers become better ballet dancers?

The most obvious answer lies in the way that tap dancers develop keen musical ears through the application of complicated rhythms. Vicki McLean, the academy director and ballet mistress for the Lone Star Ballet in Amarillo, TX, has always stressed the tap curriculum for that studio. “The main thing about tap is that it benefits all dancers, not just ballet dancers, because of the rhythm of the music,” says McLean. “One of the ways that I teach is that if you can clap out the rhythm of the step, you can do it either with a tap shoe or ballet shoe. I don’t care if it’s Giselle or 42nd Street, you have to get the rhythm of the music.”

Graham Lustig, who directs American Repertory Ballet (pictured here are company dancers Joe Bunn and Kristin Scott), says that tap teaches dancers a musical discipline that transfers to ballet. (Photo by Eduardo Patino)

Graham Lustig, artistic director of American Repertory Ballet in Princeton, NJ, began tap and ballet training at a small studio in West London at a young age and continued tapping until he was 14. “There is something definitive about making sounds with your feet,” says Lustig, who trained at The Royal Ballet School and joined Dutch National Ballet at age 18. “In ballet there is a little room for leaning forward or backward on a waltz beat or a note. That isn’t the case with tap—you’re either on the beat or not. It teaches you a musical discipline which you can transfer to ballet.”

McLean compares tap dancers to the drummers in bands. “The drummer holds the band together with the rhythm. Rhythm holds ballet dancers to what they are supposed to do,” she says. For example, a dance phrase might include an elongated movement, followed by two quick beats, followed by an elongated movement. “Ballet dancers have to learn to listen,” she adds. “I had a wonderful tap teacher who did all the classics in his tap shoes. He would add rhythmical movements and sounds to Swan Lake. All of a sudden you would hear a different tonal quality. I carried that with me through many years of study.”

Another advantage to studying tap emerges in the speed that both tap and ballet require. “I think tap helps tremendously with ballet, particularly with the allegro, the quick movement, the quick change of weight,” says Fred Knecht, who founded Knecht Dance Academy with his wife in Levittown, PA, 49 years ago.

Joseph Fritz, the deputy dance director at New York’s Metropolitan Opera, began tap classes at age 8, before he started ballet training. “Because of tap, I was always good at petit allegro combinations and moving from one side to the other side.”

Tapping also augments coordination of movement. “All tapping is done on the ball of the foot,” says Fritz. “You never have your heel down except when you stomp. Being on your toes enables you to move quickly from one spot to another. It’s like watching the best boxers—they’re always on their toes, not back on their heels. It enables you to move quicker and have better coordination.”

The weight change required of tapping can aid dancers in understanding the off-balance movement required in Balanchine ballets and other contemporary and neoclassical choreography. “In tap the weight changes are sophisticated, fine, and very fast,” says Lustig. “You work different parts of the foot. When you scuff and slide, you take the center of gravity off the regular center of ballet.”

At Denise’s Dance Connection, run by Denise Ronco in Rochester, NY, all students are required to study ballet and tap before they can take hip-hop. “The more knowledge you have of different dance forms, the better equipped you are to handle a dance career,” says Ronco. “In this day and age, you need to be a well-rounded dancer.”

McLean agrees that versatility offers an advantage. “They used to talk about a triple threat. Now you have to be a multiple threat,” says McLean, who danced in ballet and jazz companies and had a recurring acting role on the soap opera Days of Our Lives. “Ninety-nine percent of my students who are really good ballet students are also good tappers.”

Some ballets include tap in their choreography. The most famous, Agnes de Mille’s Rodeo, features an extended tap solo for the Champion Roper when he tries to impress the Cowgirl. (Knecht remembers that when Rodeo was first danced in 1942, the tap dancing didn’t impress all balletomanes. “People thought it was horrible that they were going to have tap dancing in a ballet. They frowned on it,” he says.) When New Jersey Ballet mounted a production of Rodeo, Fritz danced the Champion Roper because so few of the company men knew even rudimentary tap steps. Now, he points out, half of the dancers at the Metropolitan Opera Ballet started with tap.

In George Balanchine’s Slaughter on Tenth Avenue, excerpted from the musical On Your Toes, the lead male is a hoofer who falls in love with a dance-hall girl. Jerome Robbins referenced tap steps in his wartime sailor ballet, Fancy Free. Twyla Tharp directly used tap in Eight Jelly Rolls and slyly threw in tap moves in ballets like Baker’s Dozen and Nine Sinatra Songs. And in Frederick Ashton’s La Fille mal gardée, the Widow Simone does a wooden clog dance that requires some of tap’s rhythmic virtuosity.

Every big ballet company requires character dancing from its performers in ballets like Swan Lake and Don Quixote. Anyone who has sat through lame national dances in the third act of Swan Lake can tell which dancers have had only ballet training. “Tap helped me with my character and folk dancing, because of the rhythmic work with the feet,” says Lustig. “It also taught me how to stay grounded.” When the Metropolitan Opera staged a production of Carmen, the flamenco choreographer Maria Benítez chose Fritz as a soloist because he quickly picked up the complicated rhythms necessary for flamenco footwork.

‘The main thing about tap is that it benefits all dancers, not just ballet dancers, because of the rhythm. . . . I don’t care if it’s Giselle or 42nd Street, you have to get the rhythm of the music.’ —Vicki McLean, Lone Star Ballet

Learning tap is invaluable for ballet dancers who decide to audition for Broadway shows or other theatrical dancing. One of Knecht’s star students, Nadine Isenegger, has served as the understudy to Cassie in the current Broadway production of A Chorus Line (she has performed the role about 40 times) and was cast as the ingénue, Peggy Sawyer, in the tap dance spectacular 42nd Street.

Dance students sometimes forget that ballet is a theatrical art form, something that is always evident in tap dancing. Most young ballet students, fixated on learning positions and vocabulary, tend not to relax into movement and make it spontaneous. “This is the critical difference with tap—you completely let go and surrender,” says Lustig, who introduced tap into ARB’s Princeton Ballet School curriculum when he took the reins in 1999. “That’s not what you are thinking when you are 7 years old, learning your first glissade or jeté. With tap there is all this fun stuff you can do. You are usually dancing to a completely different type of music and letting your hair down. It’s a buoyant, optimistic experience, as opposed to doing a ballet solo when you are young, [where] the challenges can take away from the sheer joy of doing it.”

The evolution and histories of ballet and tap couldn’t be more different, particularly in terms of class distinction, although both were invented as a means of entertainment. The roots of tap dancing came from Irish solo step dance, African dance forms, and the English clog dance. Among black American slaves, buck-and-wing dancing became popular, which made its way into 19th-century minstrel shows and showboat performances. The soft shoes eventually gave way to metal-plated soles in the 20th century, and more sophisticated forms of tap appeared in vaudeville reviews, Broadway shows, and on the silver screen.

Ballet, on the other hand, began in 1661 when Louis XIV formed the Académie Royale de Danse. Designed specifically for the royal courtiers, the dance technique included many ballet steps and positions recognizable today (including turned-out positions). The opera ballet soon developed, and the art and technique of ballet blossomed through the 18th and 19th centuries.

Of course, the sheer polar opposition of ballet and tap appealed to Americans, who created new art forms by combining existing ones. The cross-pollination of ballet and tap, along with other dance forms, has produced a uniquely American hybridization. A good example of the breeding of tap and ballet is the oddity called toe-tapping—dancing on pointe with taps attached to the platform of the shoe. Harriet Hoctor, a 1930s Broadway vaudevillian, created a sensation by toe-tapping up and down escalators and tapping out the meter to Edgar Allen Poe’s poem “The Raven.”

So what about the reverse of the original question: How does ballet benefit tap dancers? Some teachers think it helps tremendously, while others are not entirely sold. Linda Lavender Ford, the director of Linda Lavender School of Dance in Monroe, LA, thinks that ballet training is an essential element in tap dancing. “Ballet is the basis for everything. I really think that if you can’t do ballet, you can’t do tap,” says Ford, who loves the elegance of old-style tap dancers like Fred Astaire and Eleanor Powell. “You have to have that body placement and center and control. Once you have seen a ballet-trained dancer and one who isn’t, the difference is obvious. The ballet port de bras is necessary for good tap dancing.”

Fritz disagrees. “It’s a totally different ball game,” he says. “If you have studied ballet all your life, you might struggle to pick up the tap steps.” That opinion probably rings most true among dancers who have been rigidly trained in ballet.

Lustig sees reasoning to both sides of the argument. He remembers that as a child it took him a full year to learn not to turn out while tap dancing. However, because ballet requires slower work and deep analytical thinking, he feels that it can help tap dancers understand where the movement is coming from, like the placement of the arms from deep inside the back. “Pirouettes and steps like chassé en tournant, you can translate into tap,” he says. “It also helps dancers to understand the principle of spotting pirouettes and a sense of control.”

In this era, when dancers are required to do just about everything—look at the popularity of the TV show So You Think You Can Dance—the more you know, the more you can better your career. Tap and ballet may be very different creatures, but certainly knowing tap technique can help a ballet dancer become a more dynamic performer.

How summers in NYC transformed a dance family

By Darrah Carr

“Most people come to find their fortune in New York City at age 21. I did it in reverse. I came during middle age,” says Toni Noblett with a laugh. “It is amazing that you can do something completely different with your life at age 55.” Two years ago the dance teacher sold the studio that she had operated for 25 years in Roxboro, NC, and moved to New York City.

The Nobletts share a laugh together in New York in 2005. (Photo courtesy Casey Noblett)

Although Toni had a staff of six teachers by the time she sold her studio, in the beginning she taught every class herself. Over the years she had anywhere from 125 to 300 students to teach, in addition to collecting costume money, cleaning the bathrooms, and running the annual recital. “As a dance teacher, I’d have some of the same kids for 15 years. They became an extended family. The responsibilities extended to helping with college applications and dealing with family problems,” says Toni. “A dance studio in a small town can become a community center. I chose to be that involved and I don’t regret it, but it is an emotional cost.”

Toni’s studio family also included her own children, Casey and Cassidy, both of whom were at the studio from the time they could walk. Both have successful dance careers, and they credit their mom for exposing them to as much dance as possible, despite their rural location. Casey, 28, says, “Rather than sending her students to big conventions, my mom thought her budget would be better spent bringing in guest teachers. We had people like Chuck Davis and Barbara Duffy come to teach for a weekend at the studio. They’d stay at our house, and at the time we didn’t realize just how famous and talented they were.”

Toni developed a network of guest teachers to teach at her school during the summers, when she and her children were in New York City working with Jacques d’Amboise and the National Dance Institute, which he founded. “I met Jacques during a community class in North Carolina when I was 9,” Casey explains. “He invited me to come up to New York to take part in his five-week summer program. My mom taught tap for the National Dance Institute, made costumes, and worked as his assistant. Even after I aged out of the program at 15, my brother continued to study with him while I would take class at Steps and Broadway Dance Center. The experience allowed us to realize that you could make a career out of dance.”

Toni credits d’Amboise for having an incredible impact on their lives. “Jacques pulled us out of North Carolina and gave us a new perspective,” she says. “For five weeks each summer we’d get a sublet. We’d try a different neighborhood each year. We’d try different foods, go to museums and Broadway shows, and take dance classes. What an adventure!”

Those summers with d’Amboise were the roots of Toni’s eventual move to NYC. She joined the staff of Rosie’s Broadway Kids, a not-for-profit organization dedicated to bringing dance and music programs to public schools. Today, as faculty director and a teaching artist specializing in musical theater and tap, she doesn’t miss owning a studio. “I thought I would miss [it] terribly when I moved to New York,” Toni says. “But I don’t, because I’m teaching here and I realized that teaching is what I love. It doesn’t matter if the classes are held in Chinatown, or if the kids speak English as a second language, or if the kids I’m teaching are from rural Roxboro, NC.”

Toni also relishes the camaraderie of New York City’s tap community. “There are so many women here who are extraordinary, powerful dancers. And so many women who are not really young, but who are still dancing, performing, and passing on what they know. They are performing into their 70s and 80s. It is a constant reminder of where we get the tradition and richness of the craft,” she says. As part of her investment in the community, Toni is developing a tap syllabus for the American Tap Dance Foundation. “It’s a program for the little ones, ages 3 to 8. How do we make these kids become really good tap dancers? What do you do at that age? In thinking about how to train a really good musical tap dancer, you don’t start at age 8 or 9. You start from the first time they put their shoes on. Whereas an 8- or 9-year-old will be shy if asked to try something alone, a 3- or 4-year-old will run right over you!”

‘We’d try a different neighborhood [in New York City] each year. We’d try different foods, go to museums and Broadway shows, and take dance classes. What an adventure!’ —Toni Noblett

In Toni’s syllabus, musicality takes precedence over vocabulary. A secondary concern is making the students feel comfortable in the space by honoring their perceptions and contributions. “Every small child who comes into a studio has their own vision of what being a dancer is. They come in with the idea that they can already dance. They come in rattling their feet. Let them do that in a disciplined way and they’ll learn to improvise. Honor what they think tap is. That doesn’t mean that they run the class, but [it’s important to] craft a time in class where they can improvise,” Toni says. “Also, if you do the improv at the beginning of class, it gets the wiggles out and takes the edge off.”

Toni, who created a video called Creative Movement for 3- and 4-Year-Olds, hopes to make a tap DVD eventually. “Working on these projects has made me organize what I know,” she says. “As teachers, we often go in and teach off the top of our heads. But making the video and the syllabus encouraged me to think about how I do what I do and how I can do it better.” Compiling the syllabus also made Toni realize how much knowledge she has acquired over the years. “When coming from a small-town studio, we often second-guess ourselves. We’re not given credit for knowing what we’re doing. We’re too worried about making sure the parents are happy and the kids are happy,” she says. “But all of those years teaching regular kids in a small town—it was grad school for me.”

As for Casey, once she realized that dance was a career option, it was full steam ahead. Her business, N-House Productions (the name is a double entendre: “N” stands for “Noblett,” while “N-House” represents the idea that all of the work is done in-house), founded in 2002, is based on those experiences in NYC, plus her childhood exposure to guest teachers. By acting as the coordinator between studio owners and her own database of 40 industry professionals, Casey creates workshops and conventions that are tailor made for specific studios. She explains, “After college I was doing some guest teaching on my own, and studio owners would ask me if I knew a good tap teacher or a good jazz teacher. After my summers in New York, I knew 20 good tap teachers and 20 good jazz teachers! I want to bring guest teachers to cities all over the country. I’m finally able to do what my mom did for us, and it makes such a difference to the kids.”

Both Casey’s mom and brother are on staff as teachers and consultants at N-House Productions. Through his sister’s program, Cassidy, 23, frequently conducts workshops throughout the country. “Casey’s program is amazing! She brings New York and L.A. and Chicago to kids who don’t have the money to go away,” he says. “She creates a positive, rewarding atmosphere for kids, where they win ribbons based on workshopping rather than on competitions. She’ll give ribbons for the best smile or the best spirit. She took a great element that our mom gave to us and expanded upon it.”

When Cassidy is not traveling with N-House Productions he is in L.A., where he is pursuing a career in hip-hop. He has danced in videos and on tours and awards shows for artists such as Janet Jackson, Christina Aguilera, and the Black Eyed Peas. “Being from a small town, it was my passion to get out and see the cities where dance flourishes. That gave me an extra kick-start. Being from a small town makes you want it more, I think. Because I didn’t live where Broadway shows were happening, or where music was being released, or where award shows were being produced, I wanted to go find it.”

Watching her children flourish in the dance world pleases Toni, although she did not encourage them to be professional dancers. “I encouraged them to do what brought them joy. If it was dance, then great!” she says. “If, as a parent, you can help your child discover the thing in life that brings them joy, then you’ve done a good job. It is a happy accident that they happened to choose my profession.

“When I watch my kids dance, I feel it in my bones and in my body and it’s like I’m dancing with them,” Toni continues. “I think it’s a mother thing. I love to watch them dance. They dance like I see dance in my dreams.”

Dianne Walker sounds off on the revival and current state of tap dance

By Heather Wisner

Tap dancer Dianne “Lady Di” Walker appeared in the movie Tap and the original Paris production of Black and Blue and served as assistant choreographer and dance captain of the Broadway version. She has been featured in the documentaries Songs Unwritten: Leon Collins; Honi Coles: The Class Act of Tap; Black and Blue; and Great Performances: Tap Dance in America. Walker holds a master’s degree in education and participated in the Dance USA/National Task Force on Dance Education. She has received multiple honors and grants and has served as an adjudicator for the World Tap Dance Championships.

Dianne “Lady Di” Walker played a large role in revitalizing tap in the 1980's. (Photo courtesy Chicago Human Rhythm Project)

Her latest ventures include artistic directorship of the Chicago Human Rhythm Project through 2010 and dancing in the touring show The Souls of Our Feet, which opened this fall and will run through 2008. We caught up with Walker this summer while she was appearing at the L.A. Tap Fest.

How did you get started as a tapper?
Dianne Walker: I started dancing at 2 1/2 years old—I had polio, and my mother wanted to make sure I got the right exercise. I danced in Boston with Mildred Kennedy; later on, we moved to Edwards Air Force Base. [Walker’s father was in the Air Force.] They made a deal with me that if I taught dance class in the teen club, I would get free Cokes. You can imagine how popular that made me! But then we moved to Okinawa and I got into cheerleading and drill team. I stopped dancing from about age 14 to 28.

When I moved back to Boston, I met Willie Spencer at the Masonic Temple’s Prince Hall [where Walker’s father-in-law was being honored]. He looked like a vaudevillian, an interesting, wonderful character. I said, “Oh, man, whatcha doin’?” He was doing some hambone, and it took me back to the rhythms I enjoyed as a child. He asked me to show him something, so I jumped up and did a time step. He started to fill my head with details of Boston dance history. When I met Willie, I knew that was my path back to dancing. He took me to see Leon Collins. We went to his studio and [Collins] said, “If you want to learn tap dance, you’re in the right place.”

I quickly went from taking one to two private classes a week, and my children were taking his kids’ class on Saturdays. One time he asked me to teach the kids’ class while he went to get a sandwich. I said I didn’t know how, but he said, “You know more than they do. Share it.” I taught from then on.

What was the field like then, and how has it changed?
DW: This was 1978—there weren’t too many people interested in tap at the time. I was working for the department of psychiatry at Boston University Medical Center; I had a real job with a paycheck and health insurance. I took a sabbatical. I had just gotten my master’s in education and I thought I would do dance as therapy. I had also planned to go to law school. But the more I got into the dance, I found out how much didn’t know. I fell in love with this community of people. Because we shared the joy of dance, things progressed from there.

Now we have youth ensembles that perform at tap festivals all over the world, but not then. I was forced into a professional life because, as Jackie Mason says, somebody’s got to do it. There were no audiences at that time, so from ’78 until now, we’ve done really well.

‘A shuffle is a shuffle, but when you learn the basics, it’s your alphabet, and when you learn the alphabet, you can say any word in the dictionary, right?’ —Dianne “Lady Di” Walker

Why had tap lost its popularity, and what brought it back?
DW: I asked some of the old guys what happened. They said TV came in and killed it—it had really been a live performance. Actually, Honi Coles said Agnes de Mille killed it! She came in with Oklahoma on Broadway and changed how everyone thought about dance.

There were a handful of people who spearheaded the movement in the ’70s—it was generally dominated by men and middle-aged white women. I was the only black woman. There were women who had taken tap as kids, inspired by Shirley Temple. And in the ’70s, there were reruns on late-night TV, so people were seeing Broadway musicals, seeing all this wonderful dance, and I think that helped bring it back. I was part of a grassroots movement to revitalize the form. I found out who was behind Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly, and I rolled up my sleeves to bring back the popularity of tap, enlighten people about the art form, and give those dancers—Collins, Eddie Brown, the Nicholas Brothers, the Whitman Sisters, Louise Madison, and others—the accolades they deserved.

Who was your greatest influence?
DW: Leon Collins. He had a method. He had a series of routines, and how you advanced through that material depended on what you brought to the table as a dancer. He built the foundation. He died young, and before that, he said, “I gave you everything, and you don’t even know what you got.” It’s true. I did my own work, but people asked me to share his knowledge. I ran the Leon Collins Dance Studio in Brookline [MA, with CB Heatherington and Pamela Raff,] from 1982 to 1995.

What are the predominant tap styles today, and how would you describe them?
DW: There are a lot of contemporary styles, like funk, but they all basically go back to traditional tap dance. Many dancers are so well rounded now that they can dance to no music; they can put the funk on it; they can dance to a classical fugue or Charlie Parker. Good tap dancers can tap to anything because they understand rhythm and musicality.

What does it take to be a good dancer, and a good teacher?
DW: You have to understand music. These dancers are musicians as well, and the music changes the style. And you need the basics. A shuffle is a shuffle, but when you learn the basics, it’s your alphabet, and when you learn the alphabet, you can say any word in the dictionary, right?

As a teacher, you have to give the best of yourself in terms of sharing. I’m a passionate teacher—I’m passionate about what I’m doing and interested in the history and content and process. Some people just want the next step—they don’t want to learn about it. I find them very difficult, and they probably find me very difficult. When I got hired to do Black and Blue, the kid in the show was Savion [Glover, Walker’s most famous student]. He liked to hear what I had to say—the other kids would run and hide, but he wanted to hear about all the people in the game, and that’s what made him different.

Glover recently told the New York Times he wasn’t a fan of dance festivals. What’s your take on festivals, and on that comment?
DW: Savion and I have talked a lot about this. Festivals need to be revamped; things have changed so much, but that’s not a negative thing. Dancers are ready for more challenges. We need to be producing festivals of the highest quality. My criticism of New York is that they have prime time, with places like the Duke and the Joyce, and they’re not using it to their advantage. They have significant space, so they should use significant acts—the best of the best. Novelty acts belong on smaller stages.

Who’s doing interesting work now?
DW: Savion amazes me. I can’t believe how he constantly pushes the envelope—he’s in a class by himself. He’s brought forth a younger generation—I call them the frontrunners—that transcend black and white, male and female. Dormeshia Sumbry-Edwards is the most fascinating tap dancer today, with the most sophisticated level of musical phrasing. Jason Samuels Smith won an Emmy Award for his choreography on the [2004] Jerry Lewis telethon.

What will keep tap alive and thriving? 
DW: We need to put the best of what we have up on stage; if not, we’re wasting our time and we don’t have that kind of time. We need to reassess, with new vigor, how to get work for the kids. If there’s no visibility, what’s it all for? The older generation is dead and gone, so we need a new plan to keep [tap] alive. We’ve always been an enterprising people—we self-produce. But we need an angel to step in with some real dough and get us a real tour. We need to see tap companies on the level of Dance Theatre of Harlem, Alvin Ailey, Mark Morris. Brenda Bufalino has done it with the American Tap Dance Orchestra, but we need to do more. We’re ready—it’s show time.

Festivals of the Tap Revival

Festivals played an important part in the tap revival, Walker says, among them the following.

• Tapper and historian Jane Goldberg brought tap to the American Dance Festival in 1978 and staged a festival, By Word of Foot,  in New York in 1980, 1982, and  1985, to gather masters of the art and handfuls of dancers from across the country.
• In 1986, the Colorado Dance Festival (with organizers Sali Ann Kriegsman and Marda Kim) was among the first big dance gatherings to add a tap residency. “We brought the press in; they had to learn about it to write about it,” Walker said. “Task forces grew out of it, and people went back to spread the knowledge and visibility of tap.”
• In 1989, Jan Corbett organized what would become the Portland International Tap Festival in Portland, OR, featuring such talents as Savion Glover, Honi Coles, and Jimmy Slyde.

One-on-one instruction boosts students’ prowess and studios’ profits

By Jennifer Rienert

“Do you give private lessons?” That’s a question that prospective clients often ask—are you prepared to answer it? Most studio owners have no trouble setting schedules, pricing, and dress codes for their schools, and they routinely hand out that information when new students walk in the door. But they may be much less clear in their thinking about private lessons. Setting up a policy about private lessons, and then publicizing it to your clientele, can boost your school’s income and provide students with an added incentive to work their hardest.

Finding the time
All school owners have different philosophies and rules for permitting students more personal or one-on-one instruction. Many studios do not have sufficient classroom space or staff to give precious time to only one student. Trying to fit in all the disciplines, and at convenient times, can be very tricky. Studios with multiple rooms must try to coordinate classes of students and move from one to another effectively while using every minute available after school lets out until as late as they dare stay open on a school night. But my school, New Hampshire School of Ballet, has a long tradition of giving weekly 30-minute private ballet lessons to deserving students. So where in our crazy schedule do we find the room, and why would we give precious time to private lessons when it would be more profitable to fill a class instead?

Studio owner Jennifer Rienert uses a private lesson to refine technique with student Nathan Duszny. (Photo courtesy Jennifer Rienert)

For newer studios that are still building a clientele, private lessons can help fill gaps in the schedule and bring in extra income. That’s what my aunt did when she opened the studio I now own in 1964. She offered the first lesson right after school, at 3 p.m., a time that is too early to expect everyone to be able to arrive for a group class. There were also free times here and there throughout the day and on Saturdays after the little ones went home. As her studio grew and available times became fewer (she had only one dance room), she limited the private lessons to the early slots and later at night, after classes were over.

If you have never implemented any form of private-lesson program on a regular basis, a good time to try it is during the summer, which typically has lower enrollment. My school offers semiprivate lessons to about half of the students during those months, and because most teachers are looking for extra hours during this slower time, this system gives everyone a little boost.

Eligible students
I have continued my aunt’s tradition of emphasizing private lessons, and receiving one has become a special, earned privilege for my students. Obviously, not all schools have the capacity or staff to give everyone extra personal time, so how do you determine who should receive one? We have built our program around rewarding those students who are serious about their studies; when they reach the advanced level in ballet, they receive a weekly 30-minute private lesson for the season. Because these students already take numerous classes, I offer them a discounted rate of $17. (The normal charge is $45 per hour.) Of course these lessons are optional, but no one has refused the offer yet.

Since only the advanced dancers have private lessons, they are the only ones who are eligible for solos and leads in our end-of-year performance or Nutcracker. This gives all the students something to strive for; it is exciting for them to know that the chance to dance a lead role is out there. The incentive to work hard is there for those who want it. I believe so strongly in this program that we also allot 30-minute duo or trio lessons to the class below the advanced-level students. The dancers know they can work their way up and receive weekly semiprivate lessons to work on their technique or show choreography and then, in a year or two, when they progress to the advanced class, receive their private lesson. This also allows the students to gain experience in a trio situation that will enable them to handle a 3-minute solo someday.

Although 30 minutes doesn’t seem like a long time, you would be amazed at how much you can get done when working with a single student.

Our policy is that students who take privates must be fully registered in the entire ballet program, and those who want to continue with private lessons in the following year must take class at the school for a required number of weeks during the summer. This ensures that students keep up their skills enough to remain in the advanced class (and it helps to keep our enrollment up in the summer). Since the lead roles in Nutcracker are given only to gifted students who take private lessons, they are motivated to hold onto their time slots.

Content for private lessons
In these short lessons we generally work on technique, gearing the content around the students’ needs. I start with a 10-minute barre, correcting and analyzing as we go, and then proceed to combinations that I feel would benefit each student. Sometimes we work on problem areas like pirouettes or petit allegro. If a performance or competition is coming up, this lesson can be used for choreography. This personal time, given from September to June, makes the dancers stronger because we are able to correct problems they might not be able to fix in a class situation. Although 30 minutes doesn’t seem like a long time, you would be amazed at how much you can get done when working with a single student. The one-on-one attention allows the students to progress much more quickly.

How many to offer
The decision about how many private lessons to offer each week is based on how many students are in the advanced class, how soon they can get to the studio after school, and how many teachers and studios are available. My school schedules 13 to 15 private lessons and about 5 trios per week. If a school has two or three rooms, it is easy to fit private lessons around the regular classes. Motivated students find a way to get to the studio quickly after school, especially if they have a car, and some start as early as 2:30 p.m. Students who are home schooled can easily fill a 2:00 or 2:30 p.m. time slot. Staying after class in the evenings is also an option. I schedule three private openings at primetime (about 5:00 or 6:00 p.m., right before the advanced ballet class) for those hard-working and deserving students who live more than 30 minutes away and can’t get to the studio by 3:00 p.m. I try to be fair in giving all students a chance to obtain one of these valued times.

Success stories
Studio owners who trained at my aunt’s school many years ago are following her example. Heidi Sullivan, owner of Dance Vision Network in Goffstown, NH, offers private lessons to her advanced students, who are then eligible to dance leads in the school’s shows. Sullivan says the system motivates them to work harder. Kristen Sampson, owner of Portsmouth School of Ballet in Portsmouth, NH, offers private lessons, but usually only on a short-term basis. “When someone requests a private lesson, we try to refer to them to a classroom situation. However, if a student is lacking in some area or would like to accelerate their personal growth, we agree to a six-week private-lesson series,” Sampson says. “Regardless of age, this student can progress faster in any discipline and catch up to the rest of their class if they wish. Since private lessons can be costly ($50 to $60 per hour), not everyone requests these times. It is also a chance for all my teachers to pick up extra hours if they wish. We schedule many private lessons with any of our teachers when they are available, and it benefits everyone.”

A former skeptic, Melissa Hoffman of Melissa Hoffman Dance Center in Hudson, NH, gave private lessons a try last summer. “The teachers convinced me to allow them to do privates for the summer months [in which] they would work on specific skills—turns, jumps, stretching, tumbling, ballet, or whatever the teacher and student felt needed to be looked at—no choreography,” says Hoffman. “One also did conditioning. The results were great for most of the dancers. The program was offered to our competitive and more serious dancers and was first-come, first-served. About 30 dancers took advantage of it. The option to continue throughout the season is not there, as studio space is an issue, but we will do this each summer.”

If you decide to take advantage of the benefits that private or semiprivate lessons offer, first consider whether you will allow anyone who is interested to participate or if you prefer to reserve the time for a certain level of dancers. Either way, offering private lessons will benefit your students by helping them progress more quickly. And by maximizing your use of studio space and bringing in extra income, the practice is good for business too.

Rosters full of Alexas and Allisons, prodigy 2-year-olds, sleep-deprived zombies— c’mon, parents, give us a break!

By Diane Gudat

Sometimes I sit in the studio at the end of a particularly long day and think, “Are there other dance teachers out there with the same problems I have with parents?” At workshops and conventions, groups of teachers gather in corners to discuss these nagging struggles. For those of you who feel like you are suffering alone, let me recap a few of my own parental pet peeves. I’ll bet they will ring a bell with a lot of you!

1. Why is everyone named Alexandra?

Last season I had a class in which nearly every girl had a name that was a derivative of Alexandra—like Lexie, Allie, Alexa, or Alexis—or was named Allison. (There were three.) The only one with a different name was Victoria, and she asked me to call her Susan. Her progressive parents felt it was her choice. From that day forward, I called her Tori. Yet another class contained two Lindseys (one with an “a” and one with an “e”).

There were also two Kaylas, a Kiley, a Kaley, a Cori, and one very precocious curly-haired Tallulah. Come on, parents, there are lots of names out there! Give us a break!

2. I have spent countless hours on the phone with parents who want to register their 2- and 3-year-olds for a dance class worthy of their advanced talents. My favorite parental registration quotes include “My daughter loves to dance with Ellen,” “My daughter just cannot sit still when there is music playing; she entertains us by the hour!” and “Her gymnastics teacher and swimming coach moved her into the advanced classes.” But my all-time favorite comment has to be this: “She has already had two years of experience in tap, ballet, and jazz and now we are looking for something more serious.” (Remember, these children are 2!)

It is not that I have anything personal against 2- and 3-year-olds in dance class, but let’s get realistic. Everybody dances with Ellen and no healthy 2-year-old sits still when music plays. No 2-year-old has experience with anything that lasts more than 15 minutes. Dance for little ones should be fun, organized playgroups that introduce them to the wonderful world of dance and new dance friends. There is a throne in heaven for every preschool dance teacher and a rhinestone pair of wings for those who return these phone calls and schedule preschoolers into class.

3. While we are on the subject of small children, I have a few more requests. One, please quit waking them up from their nap in the car right before dance class. It is hard to start class on a happy note with two or three grouchy, sleepwalking zombies in the circle.

Two, we are not kidding about taking them to the bathroom before class. Mopping the floor takes a huge chunk of time out of class and can really embarrass the child. And three, if you drop a Cheerio on my lobby carpet, please pick it up before it is ground into dust and sticks to the empty juice box you left under the benches last week.

4. Here is a touchy subject—costumes! Parents moan that they never fit. Unless they are custom made (and the parents’ wallets would surely know the difference), costumes will either be too small or, if you are lucky, too big. Jazz pants and unitards will always be long enough to fit a baby giraffe. And yes, they actually do cost that much. If parents could see my living room during the months of March, April, and May, they would know that I am doing my best to get the costumes out of my house. After recital this year I am planning a therapeutic burning of the more than 60 catalogs that are stacked on the floor next to my sofa. Maybe we could make this a national event for teachers around the country.

By the way, you teachers who actually sew your own costumes—stop it! You are making the rest of us look bad and torturing yourself. Get with the catalogs! I will send you my duplicates.

5. Next on the list are the parents who want their children moved up to a higher-level class. No class seems advanced enough for them. Some of the most common remarks from parents are: “I don’t know if I can get her to come back to that class level again. She has already learned that stuff!” and “She was the best one in the recital dance! That other girl messed up and she got moved up to the next level.” And don’t forget these great reasons: “She has piano on Tuesdays and gymnastics on Thursdays, so she needs that Wednesday advanced class,” and “Her next-door neighbor is in that class and she wants to be with her.” I ask these parents if, when their pediatrician prescribes one medicine, they insist that the pharmacist give them something better. We are not pulling names out of a hat here! We are trained professionals!

6. This brings me to my next pet peeve, which I like to call “sandwich classes.” These children are leaving soccer early to get to dance class “just a little bit” late. They then want to leave dance class “a few minutes” early to make it to art class. The parent’s excuse is usually something like this: “She just can’t decide what she wants to do, and this will only happen for the next three months.” These same little dancers usually have ketchup on their faces from finishing their Happy Meal as they walk into class, and their leotards are on backward because they changed their clothes in the car. They are often barefoot—their dance shoes are in their father’s car because he picked them up from art class last week.

Parents, you are not building superkids. You are not going to miss some amazing talent and neglect the hidden gold medalist in your child. Your children are confused and exhausted. You are frazzled and ready to attack the first dance teacher you see. So here is an idea—leave the kids at home and come take the dance class yourself. You will have a great time! You know you have always wanted to or are wishing you had never quit—that’s why most of you bring us your children anyway.

7. Parents, if we send home a flyer with a misspelling, please do not tell us! Getting those newsletters together on time is one of the toughest things we do. And do not call the studio to see if the information in the flyer is true. For example: “Sallie just brought home a flyer that says her group has a rehearsal on Saturday at 10:00. Is that true? Could you please call me back before 5:00 to confirm? I checked the website and it also says Saturday at 10:00 but we’ve been out of town and missed last week’s rehearsal and our computer has been acting up so, I just wanted to check. Her dad will need to bring her, so she will probably be late. I will wait for your call if you really need her there.”

8. And finally, deadlines are deadlines. That is why the word “dead” is in the expression—if you miss it, you are dead! If we ask for something on Wednesday, we actually needed it on Monday. If you bring it in on Friday we are both in trouble! For some reason, there is always one person in each class who cannot seem to return anything on time. I end up chasing them into the parking lot and leaving untold messages on the family phone to get what we need anywhere near on time. And please, do not postdate checks. We are just not that organized. We will cash them early and they will bounce, and you will be upset. Is there anyone else in the world who will accept a postdated check? Most of us are now changing to automatic withdrawal systems, and can you blame us?

If these complaints sound familiar, maybe you could strategically place this issue of Dance Studio Life in your studio lobby, open to this article. Not that it will help, but it might make you feel better. Just know that you are not alone!

The gift of kindness, from one teacher to another

By Rachel Straus

Teresa Lynn Desrosiers grew up giving back. Her father, a janitor in their hometown of Salem, NH, taught her that a good life involved finding something special to do, doing it well, and sharing it generously with others. When Desrosiers found dance, she put her father’s philosophy into practice.

Tina Fosman surrounded by the Salem Dance Network students, who chose to gie up their Christmas party and donate the money to her. (Photo courtesy Salem Dance Network)

At age 11 she offered classes to neighborhood children in her parents’ basement, asking only for small donations as payment. When she opened her first studio, Salem Dance Network, at age 24, Desrosiers remembered her father’s counsel regarding new clientele: “Maybe these kids don’t have a lot,” he said. “Try to make it affordable so they can dance.” Fourteen years later, Desrosiers’ studio offers classes at one of the lowest rates in the area. To make ends meet, she teaches at other studios and lives in a mobile home. In place of annual recitals, her students perform at nursing homes and at the local hospital. Most recently the 5′ 2″ teacher’s ability to develop and foster community through dance hugely impacted one person—fellow dance teacher Tina Fosman.

When Desrosiers reached out to her, Fosman was experiencing some of the worst days of her life. In October 2006, her husband of 13 1/2 years died in a car accident. At his wake, Kennie Fosman had approximately 1,500 mourners. Tina Fosman’s mother and father came to her aid by offering financial support. But money was still tight and the 38-year-old mom of two gave up her home, moving into her parents’ basement. Soon after, Fosman took a two-month leave of absence from her seven-days-a-week teaching schedule to care for her sons, Dominic, 10, and Nicholas, 5, who were devastated by the loss of their stay-at-home dad. “Every time I go out,” says Fosman about her boys, “they don’t think I’m coming back.”

In late November Fosman received a call from Carlene Nazarian, her godmother and employer at Carlene Nazarian Dance Center. Nazarian asked Fosman to come to the studio. When the 99-pound widow entered the waiting room, she saw three huge boxes overflowing with Christmas gifts from “Santa.” The toys, restaurant vouchers, gift certificates, and food baskets were for her family. Nazarian told Fosman that Desrosiers, her dance students, their parents, and local businesses had pooled their resources to donate gifts, hoping to make Christmas morning happy for the grieving family. “I was overwhelmed,” says Fosman, especially when she learned that Desrosiers had led the effort. She had thought that Desrosiers didn’t like her because their pedagogical approaches differ (Fosman’s: no-nonsense, tough, and competition focused; Desrosiers’: nurturing, humor laden, and community focused).

Fosman was flabbergasted by Desrosiers’ unstinting generosity and support in her time of need. “This would have never occurred back in the day—it’s unheard of for another studio to reach out in this way,” she says. But for Desrosiers, that kind of reaching out wasn’t exceptional. It was how she had been brought up by her father, who taught her that when someone is in need they should be helped.

A visit to Desrosiers’ studio reveals how the 37-year-old’s bigheartedness affects her students. Sitting together on the studio floor, the ponytailed dancers, ranging in age from 7 to 17, described how, when they learned of Fosman’s tragedy, they decided to sacrifice their annual Christmas party and donate their dinner money to a teacher they hardly knew, plus ask local businesses for gifts on her behalf. To them, it seemed the natural thing to do. When they rose to continue rehearsing for an upcoming hospital show, their dancing—rocket-injected energy for the upbeat numbers and cool grace for the lyrical ones—also possessed a generosity that couldn’t be mistaken for preening or sycophancy. Most impressive was their ability to diplomatically critique each other, describing what they liked from each performer and how each could improve her performance.

Clearly these near-dozen students feel good about themselves. Their enthusiasm makes their dancing sizzle and their interactions with each other hilarious. They recounted a sleepover/scary-movie night at Desrosiers’ in which their teacher poured red food coloring over popcorn to resemble blood. The sight produced horror-stricken reactions and then a torrent of unstoppable giggles, which welled up all over again in their retelling. Student Kayla Heafey showed another side of Desrosiers’ personality when she wrote, “Teri has been a great inspiration. I don’t know what I would do without her.” Heafey, who rehearsed a solo created by Desrosiers, has Asperger’s syndrome, a form of autism.

Desrosiers’ dancers decided to sacrifice their annual Christmas party and donate their dinner money to a teacher they hardly knew, plus ask local businesses for gifts on her.

Desrosiers’ concern for and generosity toward Fosman didn’t end at Christmas. In April Desrosiers learned that Fosman had decided to give up teaching for a salaried desk job with health benefits, which would afford her more financial security and time with her children. Later that month, when Fosman called Desrosiers to talk about needing some time away from her parents’ home, where she and her boys were living, Desrosiers told her she could stay at her place for the seven weeks she would be away teaching at a summer camp. She also involved her senior dancers in her supportive efforts, raising funds to purchase school supplies for Fosman’s kids. Salem Dance Network ballet teacher Lisa Rizzone points out that the school’s students “know they can dance and [also] be something more than dancers.”

Though her studio seems picture perfect, Desrosiers says that creating a generous atmosphere has involved some unpleasantness. “I had some competitive kids and competitive parents in my studio,” she explains. “I had to ask them to leave. These kids were really great dancers. It tore me up, but I had to ask myself what kind of atmosphere I wanted here.”

Twenty years ago the Salem dance community didn’t have anyone resembling Desrosiers, says Fosman. She remembers an environment in which local studios treated each other as rivals, competing fiercely against one another at dance competitions. As a young standout dancer, Fosman was shunned by students from other local schools who “wouldn’t even say hi backstage” at competitions. But in the dance community Desrosiers has created, says SDN administrator Cathy Cryan, “it’s not all or nothing.”

As the next holiday season begins, Desrosiers and her dancers prepare for another community outreach performance. Meanwhile Fosman cares for her kids, works full-time in an office, and teaches one night a week at Desrosiers’ studio. “Teaching is her heart,” said Desrosiers, whose words equally reflect her own passion for teaching young people. “I always say to my students, ‘Try to do something nice for someone.’ ”

That something can be as fleeting as a smile, says Desrosiers. It can also be, says Fosman, “a kindness that will always stay.”

The power of So You Think You Can Dance

By Nancy Wozny

I’ll never forget the day I landed in “the big chair.” It was shortly after the end of the second season of the hit Fox Broadcasting Company show So You Think You Can Dance. I was at a meeting of artists, wearing my usual hat as the “dance person.” There were a few empty chairs in the room, one of which was large and comfortable looking. One of the artists piped up, “Nancy, you take the big chair; your art form is hot right now.”

The final four contestants—(left to right) Lacey Schwimmer, Danny Tidwell, Neil Haskell, and Sabra Johnson—pulled out all the stops in a Bradway routine. (Photo by Kelsey McNeal/FOX)

Who knew that the trickle-down effect of So You Think would land a Houston dance critic in the coveted big chair? It’s curious enough that the show was on the radar of poets and visual artists, but that’s not why the experience stayed with me. It was the idea of dance being in front of so many people—that “big chair” moment—and what that means in terms of visibility for the art form itself.

What is it about So You Think that puts dance in the global “big chair,” and what are people learning about dance from the show? This season, with the best-trained group of dancers thus far in the show’s three-year history, was an ideal time for viewers to get exposed to the results of top-notch training. The final four were hardly newbies. Danny Tidwell, a former corps de ballet member with American Ballet Theatre who has also danced with Complexions Dance Company, was named one of “25 to Watch” in 2006 by Dance Magazine. Neil Haskell danced on Broadway in Twyla Tharp’s Times They Are a-Changin’. America’s favorite dancer, Sabra Johnson, appeared in the mega-hit Disney film High School Musical. Lacey-Mae Schwimmer is just about West Coast swing royalty. Her father is a legend, and her brother, Benji, was last year’s winner. Amateurs they are not.

America’s top two dancers
Who best to answer the question “What does So You Think teach the American public about dance?” than America’s current favorite dancer, Sabra Johnson, who started dancing only four years ago. It has been an intense few years of training, in ballet, jazz, and hip-hop in Bountiful, UT, for this young dancer. “Once I got serious, dancing was all I wanted to do. I was in ballet class every single day. The show really shows the kind of dedication it takes to be a dancer, what’s really involved,” Johnson says. “The audience gets an idea of how hard dancing is and how tricky it is to switch from genre to genre. They also get to see so many different kinds of dance, from ballroom to hip-hop to lyrical, and it shows the opportunities dancers can have if they really put their minds to it.”

Runner-up Tidwell found that his strong ballet foundation gave him what he needed to compete fully. He started dancing at Denise Wall’s Dance Energy, where Travis Wall, last year’s runner-up, and this year’s top-ten ranker Jamie Goodwin also trained. That’s quite a record—Wall’s dancers show a clean, versatile technique and a good deal of performance polish. Tidwell credits Wall, his adoptive mother, for her strong support throughout his dance career. “My mom’s studio is like a family,” says Tidwell. “I studied the usual ballet, hip-hop, and jazz. When I arrived at the Kirov Academy [of Ballet of Washington, DC], they put me together technically.”

Johnson and Tidwell both say that their experiences on the show were life changing, including the pressure of having to “dance for their lives” when they landed in the bottom three a few weeks in a row. There were perks, too, like working with “tremendous choreographers—people like Mia Michaels and Wade Robson,” says Tidwell.

As for the future, Tidwell has some teaching gigs lined up, and Johnson hopes to teach as well. Tidwell will join the faculty of JUMP (Break the Floor) this season and is looking forward to commanding a roomful of 600 to 700 kids. He says he enjoyed teaching the warm-up while the So You Think dancers were rehearsing for the show tour. “I taught some jazz and ballet and even threw some Pilates in,” he says. “It was really fun because we have such different backgrounds as dancers.” But the two dancers are by no means done with performing. Both hope to be onstage as much as possible. “The TV show is great, of course, but there’s nothing like the power of a live performance,” says Tidwell. He hasn’t ruled out starting his own company, and Johnson hopes to land a great dance job.

Questions and kudos
The show has done a marvelous job of making distinctions between various ballroom forms, but it raised a few questions in my mind, like how ballroom dancers are trained these days (they seem like an enormously versatile bunch) and why those Russians are so good. And how many actual rumba steps need to be in a rumba routine? When is a dance not a routine? How do ballroom purists feel about the artistic license the show’s choreographers take with classic ballroom forms?

Johnson and Tidwell both say that their experiences on the show were life changing, including the pressure of having to ‘dance for their lives’ when they landed in the bottom three a few weeks in a row.

And then there’s the prevalence of hip-hop. I love the new directions this art form is taking, which were nicely demonstrated by Cedric’s fluid style and Hok’s uncanny ability to catapult himself into the airspace with minimal touchdowns, as if the floor were on fire. Why are some hip-hop dancers able to transfer their skills to other forms of dance while others look like rank beginners in contemporary pieces? Do some of them sneak in ballet training on the side?

All questions aside, one of So You Think’s greatest accomplishments is putting dance front and center, on primetime TV, for months at a time. How wonderful and empowering it must be for dance students to be able to turn on the television and see dance week after week, not only when Dance in America is airing one of its terrific shows. After all, sports aficionados can watch top-level contenders hit the field anytime. And putting fabulous young male dancers and choreographers on camera each week places a much-needed emphasis on men in dance. I imagine the show also has had a loyal following among those already dancing. Week after week they were treated to polished performances (all done with five hours of rehearsal per piece). And the sense of camaraderie among the participants did not seem at all like an act.

Audiences also gained insight into the role of the choreographer and the choreography. How to tell the dancer from the dance often proved a tricky issue on the show, but it became more clarified as season three progressed. Early on, if the judges did not like the choreography, they appeared to blame the dancers. Later more distinction was made between the success of the choreography and that of the performers. In the end, viewers learned how choreography can either elevate or sink a performance. They may also have a better idea of what the life and work of a choreographer is like. That rehearsal footage did a great job of answering the question of what exactly a choreographer does. And Mia Michaels is now recognized on the street as a choreographer. That’s progress.

The future
What does the show’s success say about the future of dance? Tidwell and Johnson feel that it has put dance in the public eye in a big way and does a terrific job of informing the public about who’s hot in the commercial dance world. Dance teachers certainly should feel more empowered in their professions. Did enrollment rise at studios across the United States this fall? Will more and more people sign up for ballroom lessons? Are teens getting the idea—from Johnson, who started dancing at the late age of 16—that it’s not too late to start taking dance classes, whether for fun or a possible career? Johnson reminds late starters that they need to stay focused. “Every class has a purpose,” she says.

Perhaps changes will happen on the local level. Will friends and parents be more willing to go to dance recitals or watch the dance team during halftime? Will more seats for concert dance have warm bodies in them? Are the people who watched the show more comfortable around dance, or with the idea of letting their sons dance? I hope that the answer to all or at least some of these questions is a big yes. One tends to get a bit dreamy sitting in the big chair.

How to Make a Good Thing Better
Now that So You Think You Can Dance has brought dance to mainstream America’s attention, what else could it do to expand what dance means to people? We’ve gotten the idea that dance is an economically viable profession, and that’s good, but there are other aspects of dance that could use more visibility.

Just because So You Think is entertainment doesn’t mean there can’t be some representation from the concert world. Modern dance would be perfect—after all, it’s a homegrown art form. I would like to see some ballet presented on that stage as well. If hip-hop and krumping can share the stage with ballroom, is ballet such a stretch? And how about including world dance forms down the road?

And as for choreographers, there’s no reason why concert-dance people can’t be included in the mix. I can think of several whose work has broad general appeal: David Parsons, Seán Curran, and Aszure Barton (the young Canadian whose work has been championed by Baryshnikov), for example. An ideal time to bring in some choreographic savvy would be for the opening group pieces and those “dance for your life” solos, which all end up looking the same. Since the participants are being judged as dancers, they should not be downgraded if their own choreographic chops are less than stellar. Putting more emphasis on ensemble work (to get out of the rut of duets that always seem to tell similar stories) also sounds like a good idea.

While we’re at it, why not use some of the filler time that’s usually given to recording artists to spotlight dance companies, especially those that have diverse repertoires? I could see Ailey II, Hubbard Street Dance Chicago, Momix, and Philadanco fitting in nicely. Why, even the Academy Awards spiced up its show with Pilobolus’ clever rendition of nominees for best picture. This is a dance show—why not show viewers some professional dance? And what about including a professional critic on the panel of judges?

Now that the show has a steady audience, expanding the range seems like a natural progression. Shows like this one can play an important role in emphasizing that dance is a big place with room for many styles and tastes. —NW

Build musicality in your tap dancers with rhythm

By Mike Wittmers

If you’re a tap dancer, you’ve got to have rhythm. Having good rhythm not only makes us better dancers, it makes us more intriguing as people. When I sit in a coffee shop to write, I plug in my headphones and listen to my newest iTunes playlist. Because of my dance and music background, I can never just sit still and listen. During prolonged moments of thought and introspection I play air guitar and drums. I tap my feet. I bob my head back and forth and lip sync. Yes, I am that dorky guy. I am fully aware that people are staring at me and I don’t care. You see, half of them may snicker and laugh but I know the other half are wondering what I’m listening to and why I am so comfortable with looking like an iPod commercial in public—and that’s all I need to appear more interesting than the out-of-work actor/waiter sitting next to me.

Wittmers hoofing it on the set for one of his instructional DVDs in 2006. (Photo by Bill Wittmers)

In order to give students a chance to look ridiculous in public like me, we have to start their ear training at an early age. Rhythm is as much about feeling as it is about numbers and counts. While you can teach the math part of music, you must instill the feeling part. This may seem like a difficult responsibility to take on, but actually it couldn’t be easier.

Sing it with your feet
To young ears, lyrics are the most obvious part of any song, and though they might not always sing them correctly or on key, children generally understand the concept of when to sing those lyrics. Around age 7, I was forced into the sad realization that Barry Manilow was not singing “at the Cocoa, Cocoa Banana.” Nonetheless, when that chorus kicked in, I shouted the praises of said chocolaty treat to the heavens in perfect time.

As teachers, we can use this kind of faux pas to our advantage: We teach our students to sing the lyrics with their feet! In order to make this educational venture successful, it’s important for us to have a grasp of this concept ourselves. Let’s keep it simple to start. How would you tap out these lyrics?

“We all live in a yellow submarine,

A yellow submarine,

A yellow submarine.”

Here’s what I’m feeling:

R        R      L     R       L       R    R   R     L
Heel-push step step shuffle hop toe hop step
R            R        L       R       R
Shuffle ball change ball change
R      L     R     L                         R   L
Toe toe heel heel (cramp roll) toe toe

No counts. All feel. I know every sound I make with my feet will match each syllable with perfect timing. Why? Because I know when to sing the lyrics. Let’s get “old skool” on this next one. Sing along!

“It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood,

A beautiful day for a neighbor.

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?”

 R         L     R     R        L       L       R       L    R     L
Scuff heel heel-push shuffle ball change toe heel step
R            R        L      R     L     R    R    R
Shuffle ball change toe heel toe heel toe
L            R     L
Shuffle heel toe
L            R     L
Shuffle heel toe

In the beginning it’s important to pick songs that are lyrically simplistic (nursery rhymes, school songs, etc.). As your students become more proficient at this exercise you can give them more advanced songs or even challenge them to pick their own songs. You will be surprised at what they come up with, and you will gain a better understanding of how well they feel music. This idea of singing the lyrics with our feet is like throwing a tiny pebble into a glassy lake—one action, many ripples.

Here’s how it works in an improv setting: Pick a song—let’s try “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” Line up your students. Then, one at a time, each student taps out the lyrics, giving one tap sound to every syllable.

It’s just that simple. No two students will do the same thing. Not only will they be improvising with their taps but they’ll get to see and hear the different ways their peers feel a song with their feet.

From a choreography standpoint, lyrics can be very powerful in tap. No, I don’t mean kicking your foot out when someone sings the word “kick.” (That’s a little on the nose.) What I’m looking for is how the taps follow the phrasing of the lyrics. For example, think about the song “Feel Good Inc.” off the album Demon Days by Gorillaz. Listen to the rap lyrics at 1:35 of the song. Now think about how rhythmic our taps would be if they could match the phrasing of the lyrics there instead of the beat. Your first few attempts at this process might result in some awkward pauses or uncomfortable weight changes. That’s OK. This is how we push the envelope of tap, create new steps, and best of all (drum roll) get away from patterns and repetition!

These ideas are great ways to implement ear training into a class setting and instill the ability to feel music in our dancers.

I’m a scat man
If you or your students have ever taken tap class from me, it’s a good bet that on more than one occasion you’ve heard me scat out beats to demonstrate the rhythm I need from your taps or the groove I want you to hear in the music. My comfort with scatting in front of anyone at any time comes from 12 years of playing drums, 26 years of tapping, and most important, not being afraid to express how I feel music.

Musicians have been scatting longer than most of us have been alive. Scatting has all the makings of its own language and yet somehow, no matter what their background, everyone understands it almost immediately. Scat is all about vocally expressing what you’re hearing or feeling in a song, without using actual words: “Dwee do bah do bop bah doodle-ee-do bop.” We should approach tap the same way. Learning to scat makes it easier for us not only to interpret rhythms on the fly but to improvise to anything. Scatting is like adding another line to the sheet music of a song. If you listen to a jazz singer scat, you hear moments when they are with the groove and then moments when they vocalize against it—harmony and dissonance. This is the ideal format for tap choreography.

Here’s a way to visually understand this concept: Draw a large dollar sign on a piece of paper. Now, label the straight lines “music” and the curvy line “ography.” Just like this dollar sign, your best choreographic effort will end up weaving in and out of the music seamlessly. With beginning students, your curves will be close to the straight lines. The more advanced your choreography gets, the farther away the curves will be from the straight lines. The thing to remember is the music lines never change. The song is set. When John Mayer sits down with his guitar and starts strumming his newest slice of chord-progression heaven, he is not thinking “Ah, yes! This groove sounds just like three shuffle ball-changes and a front Irish.” Most likely he’s thinking “Dum bah-dah dum, ba dum da-dum dum.” We must tap to him because he will not change for us. This is why we need to start thinking and feeling in terms of scat, rather than getting so wrapped up in names of steps.

A good place to start your “scat homework” would be Al Jarreau. I suggest the album Givin’ It Up. It’s a collaboration between Jarreau and jazz guitarist George Benson. The best song to hear some cool scat rhythms would be “’Long Come Tutu” (as it’s listed on iTunes; it’s called just “Tutu” on the CD). You’ll get a good sample of scatting and it’s also a good challenge for tapping out lyrics. The only difference is that this time you’ll be tapping out syllables and vowel sounds.

“Because Ned Schneebly told me to!”
One of my favorite movies is School of Rock. All sight gags and one-liners aside, we can’t help but wish that we had a Ned Schneebly in our lives when we were younger. There are actually some valuable lessons to be taken from this movie. One of the most important things Ned does is send his students home with CDs of music they’ve never listened to before. At first it seems dumb to the kids, but over time they end up finding a musician or band they really connect with. I have no idea where my musical knowledge would be if someone had done that for me when I was growing up. So I will give all of you the “push” that I never had.

Whether you are familiar with the following artists and songs or not is irrelevant. I want you to focus on listening to them with your “tap ears.” Listen to each song a couple of times without dancing. Learn where the changes are (verse, chorus, bridge, chord changes, changes in meter). Once you have a feel for the song, start thinking about what the groove, lyrics, and individual instruments are saying and how you would bring them out with your feet. Caution! This is usually the point when most choreographers would try to fit steps or patterns they already know into a new song. Wrong idea! At its best, choreography doesn’t work like that. You need to think of each song with a clean slate, otherwise you’re trying to cram a square peg into a round hole. Although it might work out with the counts, it will be apparent to viewers that something has been forced. Let your feet do what the music tells them to do. If the song is screaming for “Ba-dee ah,” give ’em “Ba-dee ah.” This is how we implement our ability to scat. Now let’s get into some homework.

Song: “Tia Lupe”
Artist: Alien Ant Farm
Album: TruANT

This song is a great mix of Latin, pop, and rock. The verses are in measures of 7 and the chorus is in measures of 4. Some of the notable accents to listen for are:

• The kick drum as it drives the verses on counts 1, and-3, and-5, and-7.
• The use of the toms during brief fills in the chorus.
• The phrasing of the lyrics during the bridge (2:34–2:46).
• The cymbal pattern, played on the ride-bell during the last 50 seconds of the song, stays steady, but because the song is in 7, it bounces back and forth from the “whole” counts to the “and” counts.

Song: “Kit Kat Jam”
Artist: Dave Matthews Band
Album: Busted Stuff

“Kit Kat Jam” is one of my favorite songs on this album. It’s funky and goes back and forth between 6/8 and 3/4! Things to listen for:

• The “broken high-hat” (cymbals) groove. This is when the high-hat is played with melodic pauses rather than consistently straight through.
• The change to 3/4 at 1:40 of the song.
• The slightly hidden melody of the saxophone.

Both of these songs are rhythmically advanced, but anything you take away from them can easily be geared down for lower levels. You just have to be creative!

The examples and exercises I’ve given are only suggestions. To your students, rhythm is only as interesting as you make it. I encourage you to take this information, spin it to fit your own class situations, and then find new ways to make learning rhythm fun, so you can pass it off to the next generation of dancers. Learning rhythm is a never-ending process. As long as someone out there is making music, we will always have homework to do!

A traditional twist on tap dance

By Lea Marshall

If your studio were to offer just one dance form other than the Big Three—ballet, jazz, and tap—which do you think would be most likely to succeed? Be careful how you choose; the results could surprise you. While hip-hop or flamenco might seem like enticing elective offerings, a step dance like clogging could attract more students than you’d think. After delving into the roots of clogging and speaking to a few studio owners, we’ve discovered that this folk dance form can really bring in the folks!

From the mountains to the stage
Clogging is a particularly inclusive dance form, in both its origins and its attraction for a wide range of people. What we know in the United States as clogging actually has roots in European, African, and Native American folk dances. When Scottish, Irish, English, and Dutch settlers populated the Appalachian Mountains during the 18th century, they brought their traditional folk dances and music with them.

The annual Georgia Mountain Fair in Hiawassee, GA, attracts cloggers of all ages and both genders from neighboring states. (Photo by Richard Calmes)

Imagine farmers and their families living way back in the hills, with no entertainment but what they could create themselves. Dancing to the rhythm of their own feet, perhaps helped out by the father’s fiddle, would bring a welcome change from the work of hunting, plowing, and sewing. Eventually, exposure to African-influenced step dances practiced by slaves and to Native American traditional dances began to seep into the settlers’ folk dance forms, creating something new.

The word “clog” comes from the Gaelic word for “time” or “clock” and today’s clogging keeps time with music by emphasizing the downbeat. Traditional clogging, also known as flatfooting or buck dancing, was a kind of freestyle step dancing based on individual dancers improvising their footwork in time with the music. Contemporary clogging emerged when this rhythmic footwork began to be paired with traditional “figure” square dances. That’s when it developed distinctive traits such as raising the foot more than six inches off the ground.

Contemporary clogging shoes are similar to tap shoes, but the metal tap on the shoe’s sole is attached loosely, to provide a “jingling” sound as the foot is raised and lowered. Beginning students can try clogging in tap shoes, though this will produce a different sound. According to Florida-based clogging instructor Kelli McChesney’s website, beginning students may also purchase clogging taps and fasten them to sneakers.

During the 1920s the success of a group called the Soco Gap Cloggers, formed by Sam Love Queen Sr. in Maggie Valley, NC, helped popularize what we now call contemporary clogging. They won many square dance competitions, and in 1939 they performed at the White House on the invitation of Franklin D. Roosevelt during a visit by the Queen of England. (Legend has it that Queen Elizabeth commented that the Soco Gap Cloggers’ style was similar to English clogging.)

From that point forward, clogging developed into a true performing art with its own costumes, jingle tap clogging shoes, competitions, and notation. Clogging is now the official folk dance of North Carolina and the state dance of Kentucky. If only the mountain men and women dancing on their porches 200 years ago could see it now!

And into the studio
Once they discover clogging, teachers and studio owners around the country find it to be an ever-more-popular class offering. Each teacher tells a different story about how he or she first learned about clogging and then began to spread the word.

“I had seen clogging at a national competition and knew I wanted to learn that style,” says Gina Wiley via email. She runs Dancer By Gina in Delphos, OH, and teaches tap at Ohio Northern University. In the library at ONU, Wiley discovered some instructional videos by Steve Smith, a well-known clogging champion and instructor in the United States and abroad. She used the videos to teach herself and took master classes with Rhythm-N-Shoes Cloggers so that she would have a good grip on the form before she began to teach it. “I didn’t want just tap in clog shoes,” she says.

While hip-hop or flamenco might seem like enticing elective offerings, a step dance like clogging could attract more students than you’d think.

According to Wiley, enrollment in clogging classes at her studio took off after she set the finale for her 2000 recital as a clogging piece for high school students who had taken her first introductory clogging class. The following year enrollment jumped, and it has been increasing ever since. Last year Wiley had to split her beginning-level cloggers into two classes because she had so many. “I think it’s because of the high-energy dances we do at our annual dance concert,” she writes. “We do a lot of country and bluegrass but also clog to popular songs the kids love during rehearsals. We live in an area of a lot of small towns and farms. The traditional clogging with some ‘Yee-hahs’ and country girls and boys bring smiles to many.”

From son to mother
Jeanine Baxter runs Catch A Star Performing Arts Center (CASPAC) in Seymour, IN, and she credits her son, Chris Baxter, with getting her into clogging. When Jeanine opened her studio 13 years ago, she offered rehearsal space to a local clogging group she had seen rehearsing in a park. She watched their rehearsals but wasn’t that interested in clogging herself.

When Chris, who had grown up dancing in his mother’s studio, came home from college to teach dance for a while, he watched the clogging class and began comparing it to tap, a form he knew well. Eventually, says Jeanine, he began to teach classes and started his own recreational group, the Columbia Cloggers. Jeanine had watched all of this unfold, attended his rehearsals and performances, and had picked up most of the basic steps along the way.

Then, about five years ago, an injury and a bout of bronchitis sidelined Chris and the Columbia Cloggers grew restless without their leader. Jeanine got roped in, and she laughs about taking class from her son. “I had taught him dance all of these years, and I’ll tell you what, he had me in tears. He was like, ‘Mom, you’ve got to be able to pick this up faster!’ ” Once her technique was up to snuff, Jeanine began performing with the group.

Clogging is now a regular offering at CASPAC, with Chris teaching the adults and Jeanine taking on the children’s classes. The studio’s clogging students perform at competitions, while the Columbia Cloggers perform at local fairs and festivals.

Jeanine believes that dancing to various styles of music, not just country, draws in more people than strictly traditional performances would. The first time Chris took a group of CASPAC students to a national competition, they won with a clogging piece set to Michael Jackson’s “Working Day and Night.”

When the Columbia Cloggers perform at an event like the Indiana State Fair, says Jeanine, “people will come over and see what’s going on, and then they get fascinated.” Then, she says, “we go out into the audience and each grab someone, and they’ll come up and participate. And that way we have acquired new members for our group, from just going out and saying ‘Would you like to come up and try it?’ ”

A Caravan clogger taps in
At age 19, Holly Dawson of Springfield, IL, toured as a demonstrator with Dance Caravan Kids, and that was when she took her first clogging class. “I had heard of clogging before but had really never experienced it or taken classes in it,” she says. “There was nobody in this area who did that. I had always just done the basics: tap, jazz, and ballet.”

As a Caravan Kid, Dawson took class with Jenny Ruth White. “I can still remember the class, like I was there yesterday. [White] was from South Carolina and she had that real Southern drawl, and I thought she was adorable,” she says. “I was hesitant because I’d never done clogging before, but when I started doing [White’s] routines I realized it was just a tap background. As long as you had good tap skills, you could do clogging. And I found that it was a lot of fun and really good exercise.”

When Dawson opened her own studio, Footlights School of Dance Inc. in Springfield, IL, in 1996, she didn’t offer clogging right away. “I introduced clogging probably three or four years into running the studio. I had always wanted to expose my students to it, but I didn’t know how it was going to fare.” So she offered a clogging class for adults during her summer session, typically a slower time of year, when it’s easier to try out new classes. “The [students] were just over the moon,” she says. “They absolutely loved it. It has turned out to be one of my most popular classes over the years.”

Like Baxter, Dawson found clogging to be an easy crossover from tap. “I think that anybody who loves tap would love clogging as well.” Because she finds it helpful to use the tap foundation when teaching clogging, she requires one year of tap experience for students who are interested in clogging. “It’s a different rhythm, but so many of the steps are so similar that with my tappers I can just say, ‘OK, this is called the basic in clogging, but in tap it’s the shuffle step,’ ” she says.

Dawson was delighted by the success of her clogging classes and by her adult students’ eagerness to perform. “The most memorable year,” she says, “was the year that we had 16—I couldn’t believe it—16 people in the adult class who did the clogging routine. And it turned out just fabulous.”

Although the success of clogging may seem surprising to those not familiar with the form, apparently students of all ages fall in love with it once they’ve tried it. And the rewards for teachers are clear. Says Wiley, “As for why I teach it, it’s the energy and smiles from all my students. Clogging is a great workout and definitely lots of fun! My students get the chance to learn another style of dance and feel genuine joy when dancing.”

Teens explore risks—and take them—at Liz Lerman Dance Exchange

By Lisa Traiger

NoahGrace Bauman’s lip quivers. Her brown eyes fill with tears. It’s midmorning on Tuesday, just the second day of the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange’s weeklong summer intensive, and things seem to be falling apart. The intensive, Risk: Teen Institute, is the culmination of the Teen Exchange’s yearlong theme of risk. The 10 preteens and teens spent the first day breaking the ice, learning rudimentary composition skills, and practicing a basic modern dance warm-up. On day two they’re still hesitant—tentative when asked to try something new or tight-lipped when called on to ponder risks and how they play a part in each of their lives.

At the 2007 Liz Lerman Dance Exchange Risk: Teen Institute, students learn that risk comes in many forms, including trusting one another. (Photo by John Borstel)

Elizabeth Johnson, Teen Exchange director at the Takoma Park, MD, studio, had just introduced a new skill—a backward roll—and the class was working through the mechanics when Bauman, 12, took the challenge. She rolled back and banged her head, hard.

The risk of trying something new and failing. The risk of getting hurt.

The rest of the students notice Bauman’s impending breakdown, but no one wants to risk embarrassment, theirs or hers. The room prickles with tension. Then Johnson steps in, asks Bauman what she needs, and says, “Cry and keep dancing. It’s OK. I do it all the time.” Dancing, Johnson explains, is about feelings and emotions, not just counts and steps, so it’s OK to get upset or frustrated, or both. And it’s OK to cry.

After an icepack to the back of her head, the eighth-grader follows Johnson’s advice and continues dancing. Later, Johnson muses on how the petite girl with long brown hair was more upset than hurt. As one of the smallest and youngest in the group, Bauman was determined to fit in and finish the workshop, which included hands-on art projects and spoken-word poetry sessions, journaling, and a final student-produced-and-narrated showcase for family and friends at week’s end.

Dance Exchange was founded by visionary dancemaker and community organizer Liz Lerman in 1976 on the premise that “anybody and every body [sic] can dance.” From the start Lerman was age blind, among the first to teach and choreograph for senior adults, well before the revolution in senior-cize programs took hold two decades ago. A MacArthur “genius” grantee, her critically lauded company, which tours internationally, presently features professional dancers ranging in age from 26 to 72. The Dance Exchange’s critically acclaimed community outreach component includes the 8-year-old Teen Exchange. There teenagers who have just hit double digits age-wise have a say in the dancemaking and learning that goes on in the former post-office-turned-studio just over the Washington, DC, line in Maryland.

Johnson, 31, with her bleached-blonde dreadlocks pulled into Medusa-like twists, holds a special place in her heart for teens: awkward and gangly, shy and anxious, reticent and challenging. She sees something in each of them and runs a program that gives them choices in what they learn and how. “The teen and preteen years are a remarkably challenging time,” she acknowledges. “Now being an adult and looking back on it, I can have a global perspective on why. . . . Scientific researchers can pinpoint why sometimes teens, especially girls, are so mean to each other and so hard on each other, for example.”

While Johnson understands the science of hormones and brain development, it’s the art of reaching out to insecure teens on their own turf, using their music, their ideas, their stories, that sets her apart in the studio.

The risk of going somewhere new. The risk of breaking up. The risk of applying for a job.

This year’s Teen Exchange theme, risk, was selected by a small cadre of active Dance Exchange teens who wanted to go camping and rock climbing. They did the latter and also took risk into the studio, learning composition techniques and teaching movement-based workshops to other Maryland organizations that serve teens, including Silver Spring’s Building New Bridges, for immigrant girls, and Rockville’s Rainbow Youth Alliance, supporting gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender teens. The goal throughout, according to Johnson: Get kids out of their insular environment and introduce them to the world. Dance is the medium; being socially conscious, the message. Their question, culminating in July’s summer intensive: Can you be true to yourself if you’re afraid to take a risk?

Although some of the 12- to 17-year-olds had only cursory dance experience or had set aside dance classes for soccer teams, drama classes, or homework, learning to dance is part and parcel of becoming a better person in Dance Exchange parlance. Exercises included many drawn from the Dance Exchange Toolbox (http://danceexchange.org/toolbox/index.htm): leading a blindfolded partner, a daring fall-and-catch session, physically and verbally mapping body parts and associated risks, assigning a word to a series of movements, and building phrases into short dances.

Daily morning classes explored modern dance basics: introducing names of muscles, feeling grounded, exploring locomotor and floor skills, falling and rolling, weight sharing and partnering. Pointed feet and tucked-in tummies were absolutely beside the point. Johnson, working with two assistants, Laura Hicks, an intern from Vancouver, and Maria Tripodi, a Teen Exchange teacher, wanted to create fearless movers who could navigate their bodies with confidence inside and away from the studio.  

The risk of learning to be flexible. The risk of diving headfirst. The risk of trust.

“I really wanted them to work on finding their length . . . and have them find that openness,” Johnson says as she unfurls her own body into an extended X, arms and legs stretching on the diagonal. “It’s about not being scared to take up space, because we deserve space in this world,” she notes. In pairs and small groups participants explore weight sharing and partnering skills. “How do you give and receive weight? How do you take care of yourself in that process and how do you take care of another?” the teacher asks, challenging her students to risk trusting newfound acquaintances. “That’s huge in the metaphorical sense,” she asserts. Finally, a long-running Dance Exchange tenet: Each dancer is in charge of his or her own body. Do what is necessary to stay safe; variation is always acceptable.

The risk of being boring. The risk of changing schools. The risk of eating too many cookies.

Perhaps Johnson feels such an affinity for teens because she faced her own demons at that age. “When I was as old as these girls are right now, I was hit by a car and it crushed my leg and I couldn’t dance,” she says, noting that the gift of not dancing forced her to redefine herself and seek other outlets. Then at 15, she was diagnosed with an eating disorder. “It’s not about how you look; it’s about having control. Those years were the darkest and the hardest,” she recalls. In returning to dance, Johnson says it eventually became her refuge, her place of expression, and her place of healing.

Tenth-grader Rebecca Guterman, 15, from Silver Spring, MD, wears a ponytail and braces. She wanted to explore dance and the risk workshop sounded intriguing. “I think about how people who take big risks endanger their lives,” she reflects, “but when you think longer about it, there are a lot of little risks we each face in school, sports. I hope to be stronger and more flexible and also more confident [from this workshop].”

Afternoons featured dance and composition work and guests like visual artist John Borstel, who is also Dance Exchange’s humanities director, and poet Lisa Pegram, who rolled out a length of paper for the teens to list risks they have faced or will face.

The risk of working in communities of different people. The risk of moving.

“I came here thinking risk would be easy,” comments non-dancer Chaviva Ruffer, 15, who believed it would be “about things that scare you.” She adds: “I never went to a dance class, and throughout this week we learned movement boundaries of our bodies and the true meaning of risk.” By mid-week she was spending lunch breaks in the studio, working out phrases taught in class and collaborating with newfound friends.

Pointed feet and tucked-in tummies were absolutely beside the point. Johnson wanted to create fearless movers who could navigate their bodies with confidence inside and away from the studio.

Emmett Alexander, 17, from Miami, took a risk just by showing up. Visiting his great-grandparents in Maryland for the summer, he wandered into the Dance Exchange studio and was hooked. “There was a little risk in me being here as the only boy and the oldest,” he allowed, explaining that he had taken some dance classes in his public school’s arts curriculum.

The risk of challenging authority. The risk of coming out in many ways.

Just turned 16, Sadaya Murphy is anticipating the freedom of driving. The 11th-grader hasn’t worried about her next step, college—at least not much. A high school cheerleader from southeast Washington, she did reflect at the end of the program about her future: “There are lots of things that I will take with me as I leave . . . the ability to take risks in life that don’t have to be hazardous or dangerous. At 16, I realize I’m going to have to make smart decisions, and I’m getting tools from [this workshop] that I can use.” From her perspective, compositional elements like speed and levels translate into how slowly or quickly she makes a decision and on what level she needs to work to attain her goals.

Murphy’s father, Kevin Warren, admits to worrying about his daughter’s growing independence but sees dance as an outlet that will keep her focused. “I’m all for any positive outlet that drives her away from negative outlets,” he says. “I hope this experience broadens her perspectives and views and allows her to become more well rounded. I also want her to step outside of her box, and this exposure is a very positive step.”

While the Risk Project is over, the next Teen Exchange theme focuses on dreams. This project, like risk, requires the students to get into the studio and start exploring the physical, emotional, psychological, and scientific aspects of dreams. Johnson sees some areas where she will steer her charges. The coming year marks the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech, which Johnson anticipates will provide historical context to some activities. But she also envisions an all-night slumber party perfect for dreamers and dancers.

The risk of performing. The risk of change. The risk of meeting new people.

The final performance of the summer featured dances that the teens choreographed singly and in small groups, a showing of their artwork and poetry, and excerpts from their daily journals. The teens, Johnson pointed out proudly, planned everything—from costumes to program order to spacing to the Cheetos and M&Ms served at the post-show reception. “This was their week,” she said. Parents like Paul Wapner, father of 13-year-old Lizzi, noticed changes the weeklong workshop wrought. “I think this experienced deepened her. It gave her a sense that her life has many levels and a new sense of seriousness and focus.”

The risk of growing up.

Building a Program With Teens in Mind

By Lisa Traiger

Working with teens takes talent, patience, perseverance, and, most of all, according to Elizabeth Johnson, love. “I really love what I do, and I really believe in every one of these kids,” she said. “Sometimes we’re in tough situations and kids get that way, too—‘Get out of my face!’ You just have to remember to keep going. You’ve got to love them and you’ve got to believe in them.” The Dance Exchange’s Teen Exchange, founded in 1999, gives teens plenty of say, from how many classes each dancer chooses to take each week to the overall theme the year will address. Here’s how to begin building a teen program that allows for similar input:

1. Start with some longtime students and invite them to join a teen advisory board. Johnson adds a teen magnet: food. “Our favorites are Twizzlers, pretzels, and chocolate.”
2. Ask them what they want to do, but be ready to help them narrow their choices. “Teens aren’t always used to giving opinions to adults yet, so sometimes a simple thing like costumes is a good place to start,” Johnson says.
3. If you can, give them their own space: a dressing room, or even a closet big enough for an easy chair or sofa, that they can call their own and decorate accordingly. Or let them rearrange the furniture. This will give them a sense of ownership in the studio.
4. Start a teen committee to support studio activities like receptions and family or community days. Some teens may use their volunteer hours for high school community service credit.
5. Let them choose one or two appropriate magazines for the waiting room.
6. Be available for your teens. Sometimes they just need somebody to listen to them. Johnson, who tours and performs frequently as associate artistic director of the Dance Exchange, gives her Teen Exchange students her cell phone number. And they use it.
7. Find a level that you’re comfortable with in giving teens independence and responsibility versus directing them. “I sometimes think, ‘I’m the teacher; I know best,’ ” Johnson says, “but I want them to find their own ways of doing things. There’s a balance.” —LT