Root Magazine

Essay Contest Winner: Francoise Bouffault

The final essay in our group of contest winners is from Francoise Bouffault who traveled all the way to Senegal in pursuit of her passion to experience the dance at its source.  Stay tuned to Root Magazine for more on Sabar...

DANCING IN AFRICA
 

Back in 1990, going to Africa seemed the natural thing to do. After all, I had been studying African dance in a Manhattan studio for many years and was passionate about it. I should say “addicted”. I would reluctantly miss a class.

"I will not come this weekend", I would say to my dancing companions. "Unfortunately, I am invited to the beach."  They would nod in sympathy. For they knew, as I did, I would be missing a terrific class or two: the exhilaration, the challenge, the togetherness, the live, electrifying drumming... what was the beach compared to all that?

I did know something about the power of rhythm and the beauty of the Sabar Dances of the Wolof of Senegal when I embarked on my first trip there.  What I did not expect was “Africa”, the reality of the continent itself.

I had so far only seen the dances “out of context”, taken away from the refined ritual that surrounds them, away from the stunning beauty and talent of Senegalese women, the intoxicating smell of “shurai” perfume, the sounds of  the Wolof language that fill the air with a special vibrancy, in a word, the “atmosphere”.  

The first Sabar event I attended was an overwhelming experience that filled me with admiration and awe. When a Sabar is announced in Dakar, Senegal’s capital, some chairs are brought out to the streets and set up around a rectangular space. Things thereafter build up slowly. Then, mysteriously, the space starts filling up. Drummers appear, the whole neighborhood comes out. Superbly attired women slowly make their entrance and with appropriate nonchalance, settle around the dancing circle. There they remain composed, perfectly still, almost imperial, until the drumming changes it all.  When the dance starts, they get up in turn, impatiently discard their fashionable high-heel shoes and with incredible exuberance enter “Guew bi”, the dancing circle. They move towards the drummers and playfully perform wild, breathless dance steps, improvise unexpected variations or a hip movement that delights the crowd, and go back to their seats.

I was totally taken. I liked everything about the dancers: their control, the way they moved with unselfconscious grace; the way they left the dancing circle with casual disdain even after the most provocative steps; the way they kept rearranging their beautiful “boubous” around their shoulders as if it were part of some unwritten choreography. Sabar dances involve intricate, fast, high spirited leg and arm movements but the dancers always seem to deliberately hold their heads up high, thus projecting inner calm and dignity.

Rhythms change, dancers go back and forth the whole evening, challenging and being challenged by drummers. And then, unpredictably, the drumming stops. The crowd disperses. Soon, there is no one left in the “Guew”.   

Of course, I was too awestruck to dance that first time. But later, I did. The Senegalese welcomed it as a sign of my appreciation. I was indeed forever indebted: Africa had changed my life.

 

Want to see a Sabar dance?  Check out these videos from YouTube.... direct from Senegal!

Fete Sabar

Binta Dances an Encore

Top photo from the video: Binta Dances

 

Essay Contest Winner: Jalila A. Bell

Jalila Bell wrote a beautifully emotional essay where a special performance brings the history of her people and the spirits of her ancestors to the present day.

We Fin Gwine up de Jacobs Ladder

By Jalila A. Bell, Esq.

 

On June 21, 2006, I had the privilege, honor and distinction of participating and performing in the Opening Day Concert and ceremonies for the 74^th Annual Jacobs Pillow Dance Festival with my wonderful colleagues of the Vissi Dance Theater.  As a dancer, an artist, a woman of color, an attorney, and a descendant of slaves, I was truly honored to walk the hallowed ground of the Pillow and to Dance on freedoms land.

Jacobs Pillow has been a leader in dance presentation and education since its founding in 1933 by dance pioneer Ted Shawn.  But Jacobs Pillow is more than a sacred place for modern dance, an ode to modern dance pioneers; it is also a historical landmark, a stop on the Underground Railroad.  It is therefore fitting that Vissi Dance Theater would perform the three excerpts chosen; Run Thunder Run, an except from The Hoarde (2005), The Runaways, an excerpt from Amazing Grace (2004), and lastly Juneteenth, also an excerpt from Amazing Grace (2005). All three of these pieces deal dramatically with the themes of slavery, fear, oppression, transcendence and freedom.  Each of the three in their own right is a technical masterpiece worthy of merit.

 

Performing these pieces in this venue was overwhelming for me, both physically and emotionally.  For most of the bumpy- curvy three- hour ride home, I huddled in my seat of the caravan, sobbing uncontrollably.  As a dancer, I felt wholly unsatisfied by my failure to achieve the unobtainable perfection, the precision of technique, the liminality to overcome my numerous costume malfunctions.  As a woman of color and a descendant of slaves, I was humbled and overcome by a profound bone- deep sadness.

 

For many of the bun-headed, suburbia- originated students of Jacobs Pillow, the graying baby-boomer audiences of the Festival, and the dance- press aficionado who attend to critique the international works presented, the Pillow is a haven, a utopia in the midst of increasing urban chaos.  For me, it was a quiet, pastoral place, serene and unreal, charged with the frenzied, harrowed, and desperate energy of my ancestors.  I was discomfited by the knowledge that my ancestors had tracked up those same bumpy curvy hills on whence we road.  They were mostly on foot, often times barefoot, and tracked by vicious killers and bounty hunters, even hunted by dogs, with visions of horror and thoughts of lost family to accompany them.  I wondered what the Pillows bun- headed ballet protégé understood of this, and whether they too could feel the sorrow and the anger surrounding the site.  Far too many times over the years I have watched the children of the privileged exist untouched by the bowling realities of history, silently buttressed by the blood spilt from others.  I could not help but to wonder how many descendants of slaves are able to experience the Pillow and all of the culture and history it has to offer.  I can only hope that the Pillow will continue to invite companies like Vissi Dance Theater so that we too may share in the rich legacy of its founders and the blood history of the land.

 

I have been invigorated by this experience, a religious rebirth of sorts it seems.  I have a newfound sense of place and purpose both within the history of dance, as well as within the history of our country.  Dancing is my passion. I have been dancing professional for over ten years, however, I am also a practicing attorney. Dance is my freedom, my true self, my calling, but I have always known that I have a responsibility to use my voice in its most- largest meaningful sense, to be more than a simple entertainer.  After having taken to heart the maxim that the personal is the political, I chose to practice these honored professions simultaneously for maximum personal effect.  Moreover, it is rare that dance becomes a viable means of self support where the descendants of slaves are concerned. It is mostly the children of the privileged who have the means and the network of support to pursue an economically viable career in dance.  Conservatories like the Pillow do not come cheap, and choosing to honor your calling as dancer many times results in a life of relentless poverty.  With that in mind, I am also an attorney because it pays the bills. That is, once I am done paying off the student loans, that modern day version of buying my freedom or sharecropping then being an attorney will pay the bills!

 

Vissi Dance Theater is my artistic home because Vissi understands the need for we dance artists to have vision, to be educated, to cross realms, and to take our craft as seriously as death and taxes. Like Harriet Tubman taking the runaways pon de Jacobs Ladder to freedom, we at Vissi strive to transport ourselves and our audiences to a realm of higher consciousness and productivity.  I am sure that all of my colleagues at Vissi will agree in feeling honored to have been part of the 74^th season at the Pillow.  We only hope that when we come a-knocking with that secret password, deys lets us bak in.

 

Jalila A. Bell, Esq. is a professional dancer and practicing attorney living in Brooklyn, New York.  Jalila runs her own law practice and dance- works for the Vissi Dance Theater in New York City. The Vissi  Dance Theater is committed to art and artists that use the gift of dance and drama to explore moral and social issues.  Through art, the Vissi Dance Theater seeks to speak to the human condition, lift the spirit, ask questions, celebrate the joy of life, and reflect the truths of human nature.  Jalila can be reached at troubleesquire@yahoo.com .  Vissi Dance Theater at www.vissidancetheater.com

Photos:

Jacob's Pillow Dance Theater: Photograph by Nancy Tutko; from the archives of Jacob's Pillow, Becket, Massachusetts

Vissi Dance Company: Erin Pride, Jalila A. Bell, Chanel Mobley and Tonika Custalow in Amazing Grace. (Photo Brian Diaz)

Outside Stage at Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival
 

 

Essay Contest Winner: Julien Camp

Our next essay contest winner comes from writer/ artist/ musician Julien Camp of Northern California.  Here Mr. Camp recalls his heady days in the '80s where a little chemical help and some flashing lights created a night to remember.

Vulgar Shyness

By Julien Camp

    The Ecstasy kicked-in just as the beat dropped down into my hips. Undulating and letting my butt cheeks wrap around the corner of the squared-off mirrored pillar behind me, I glanced across the sea of blue, red, white and yellow-lit heads of big hair swaying to the music and locked my gaze with that of my compatriot on the pedestal closest to me. My fellow dancer kept her kinky-curly hair cropped short and bleached platinum blond for maximum effect next to her sultry, café-au-lait complexion. We cast a knowing smirk at each other, which told me the tab of E was dissolving rapidly into her bloodstream as well.

    With a few scratch backs on an LP, the DJ slipped into The Smith’s How Soon is Now, a favorite of the whole dance troop. I shot a look to the other side of the dance floor where three more members of our traveling grind-for-hire company did their thing elevated over the multitude. In addition to our fee of $500, we also kept whatever was shoved into our pants as a motivating factor for keeping the moves sexy.

    It was 1988, and this song with Morrissey’s bad-schoolboy wail was already considered retro, but the thump of the How Soon groove was clearly a crowd pleaser. It was also the opportunity for the troop to slip into some rehearsed synchronized undulations we’d invented just for this tune and for such a moment, high upon our perches. As we all turned, faced and grabbed our respective mirrored columns, I watched my reflection, laughing inside at my spiked hair that defied gravity and rose, divided into three parts, forming the five-inch/eight-inch/five-inch Mohawk-triptych slicing backward from my forehead. As I ground my pelvis to the delight of several old men in their thirties that had gathered around my podium, I worked my slim frame feeling ready to explode from a way-too-tight black mesh tank top and pair of crotch-hugging tan leather pants tucked into knee-high black biker boots. If Mad Max had been queer, he would have worn this.

    The outrageous effects of the drug mixed further into my senses, bending the bizarre club lighting into colors yet to be invented. Without missing the cue, I turned in time with my comrades away from the mirror and slid down to join in the series of writhing and humping moves on our backs and bellies that in this youthful delirium we somehow believed passed as choreography.

    The men around my small platform each began stuffing money inside my waistband while every so often stealing a small feel of the goods with an errant fingertip or two. The resultant feelings of pleasure that rocketed across my skin from these copped feels were enticing. However, I knew better: the effects of the Ecstasy, the money, this moment in time and the patron’s interest in the fantasy of me would be gone soon after the ugly closing lights escorted us all once again into our improbable futures.

Essay Contest Winner: Tonya Plank

Some of you may know her as Swan Lake Samba Girl.  Tonya Plank won us over with her light hearted style of writing and earnest, humorous attempts at a new dance. 

"Skinny White Girl Tries To Samba"

 

Feeling stressed at my job lately, I needed desperately to bring my anxiety level down a notch. I’ve been taking Latin ballroom classes in New York for two years now for just that reason. Samba quickly became my favorite – because of the mad-fun beat of the exotic-sounding drums and the mellifluous Portuguese -- though it’s by far my hardest dance – those pelvic undulations are just so foreign to straight-hipped former ballet-student me! Ballroom lessons have become quite expensive, so I opted for a street Samba class, which the Alvin Ailey studios recently added to their open adult curriculum. I normally hate open classes, but figured I might actually know something about street Samba from ballroom.

Wow, I never knew how much I didn’t know! Class was taught by this other-worldly, seemingly beyond human, absolutely impossibly amazing dancer, from Brazil of course, named Quenia Ribeiro. Without teaching us any stationary basic in front of the mirror, Ribeiro started with a dance line, beginning with these wild hip-swaying, pelvis-contorting, inexplicably impossible traveling moves. The class was supposedly for beginners! Very first step was an African-based one where we had to open arms and legs widely stepping sideways while bouncing forward, which Ribeiro somehow did while also rocking her pelvis back and forth and front to back in this beautifully sexy way. I tried and tried and TRIED to imitate her, but couldn’t in any way, shape, or form compel my midsection to do anything at all approximating hers. I at least managed to figure out where my feet were supposed to go on the floor. The second I was thinking “okay, I look like an enormous idiot, but at least I know which direction to go,” the drummers began (they had a live Brazilian band — how they managed not to laugh themselves silly watching us, I’ll never know) and Ribeiro started moving AT THE BEAT THEY WERE BEATING TO — basically, the speed of light. In trying like crazy to keep up, I flailed about wildly, smacking this poor Asian woman next to me right in the face. She later stepped on me, though, so I didn’t feel so badly! Those of us in back were spending more time apologizing to each other than anything else.

  Took about two turns down the line for me to realize it was just not going to be happening with me. Ribeiro moved in ways that I didn’t know possible. Her pelvis was darting every which way so fast it was just a blur. I had to grab onto the back barre to steady myself while watching her. This was NOTHING like the ballroom Samba I know! In ballroom, every movement is so contained – it has to be lest you whack your partner’s face with your arms or crotch with your rear. Street Samba was so exotically intriguing to me, but I just felt that, as a thin white girl, I will never be able to move like the full-figured Ribeiro.

After I finished my rotation squirming down the floor I stood back and watched. And, apart from a few advanced students, no one was really dancing Samba. Everyone was, however, rocking out madly, and laughing hysterically and obviously having great fun — unlike me, who just couldn’t get over the fact that I couldn’t do it properly. They may not have been dancing Samba but they were most definitely dancing. I, on the other hand, looked like a girl put together with Popsicle sticks, sullen and sad in the back of the room. I realized then that so much of dancing is about having fun, letting loose, and feeling the music, not about stressing over getting it just right.

Though I felt like giving up, I forced myself to see it through — just kept assuring myself that, though I was making a gigantic ass of myself, people were having far too much of a blast to fixate on me. This reasoning worked until I looked out the window and saw, to my horror, about twenty people outside staring at me, bemused looks covering their faces. Turns out the covering on Ailey’s ground-level windows is not really a curtain — if outsiders walk up close, they can see everything inside. And since Samba is so much blasted fun, the music pouring out through the windows and onto the sidewalk, we attracted the attention of nearly every passerby. Ugh, I’d thought I was smart to stay in the back by the window and far from the mirror!

About ten minutes until the end, when everyone was applauding the band and I thought we were done, Ribeiro announced we’d completed the Bahia part of the class; now it was time to learn the Rio style. Good lord, I thought; there’s more? Funny thing was, Rio turned out to be much closer to ballroom! There was still a lot of upper-body arm and torso movement, and hips were looser and steps bigger, but I actually recognized some of the moves! I saw bota fogos, voltas, cruzado walks and bachacatas — my favorite! I nearly peed my jazz pants! Legs were kept a little closer together than in Bahia, and Rio was, to little white ballroom me anyway, more familiar to my body, more jazzy, more Latiny, just more me. And I swear, Ribeiro looked right at me when I was coming down the line this last time. She just kind of smiled, as if to recognize that (though there were a good 25 students in class), she could see how much trouble I was having with Bahia (you’d have to have been blind not to); and now here I was doing something not completely ludicrously wrong! So, at least now I know that Rio is the kind I like, that I can aim towards even if, with my body type, I may not ever look completely right doing it. Throughout class, I kept thinking how much I just wanted it to end, how I’d look back on this and laugh but would never ever come back. But after Rio, I reconsidered. Maybe I will visit Ribeiro again, especially if she spends more than the last ten minutes on Rio! And, during Bahia, I will try to let loose and just have fun, and hence, DANCE!

1/20/07

Tonya Plank

Image: Quenia Ribeiro

 

Essay Contest Winners

Rough Guides and Root Magazine teamed up for the 2007 Essay Contest.  Thank you to everyone who sent in an essay.  It was difficult sorting through the many colorful stories to choose just 5 winners.  We heard about emotional experiences among fellow dancers that reminded one writer of her ancestors, an altered essay about the joys of the late '80s night-life, traveling to Senegal and immersing oneself in Sabar, and jumping into a humbling new dance form with humor.

Announcing the winners:

Julien Camp
Rita Hargrave
Jalila Bell
Tonya Plank
Françoise Bouffault

Our first essay to be published comes just in time for Valentines Day.  By Rita Hargrave of Oakland, California.

THREE MINUTES LOVE AFFAIR

    It was 2 A.M. on January 14 and after three pots of Sleepy Time tea and two Ambiens, I was still awake.   After I climbed out of bed and polished off a pint of mango ice cream, I decided to reorganize my bedroom closet, a chore guaranteed to put me to sleep.  When I opened the door, I saw my favorite shoes, red four inch heels.  The strappy vamps reminded me of a forlorn Valentine’s Day last year at Roccapulco, a San Francisco nightclub, when everybody but me had a partner.

As a good salsa dancer, most nights I can stroll into any San Francisco area club and be asked to dance by enough guys that after 2 hours my feet have puffed out a full size larger. But that evening I couldn’t pry any of the good dancers out of their dates’ clutches even for one number.  When I finally fell asleep around three, I decided this year would be different. This year I would bring my own partner to the holiday salsa bashes. 

I had three weeks. Richard, my companion for 25 years, would have been ideal. He is a presentable bit of eye candy, owns his own tuxedo and he lives right here in the house. But in the 12 years I’d been going to  salsa clubs four times a week he’d come with me-how many times? Let’s see—never. 

I could have asked Maurice, my regular partner, but his wife wouldn’t let him near the clubs during the festivities.

I was sure that other women needed dance partners, so I decided to log into  www.salsapartners.com, a dancers’ matchmaking website.  I scanned the classified ad categories—beginner, intermediate, advanced and conceited.  Under conceited Sean, a 26 year old Salvadorian mechanic (with a cobra tattoo on his neck) wanted “ a trim, sensual partner who likes to dance.”  Under intermediates Chopra, 30-ish Pakistani dentist, a sunbaked version of Pee Wee Herman, wanted ”an empathic woman with rhythm and the right chemistry”.  These guys were looking for more than a holiday dance partner. They wanted hot young things, a mixture of J.Lo, Janet Jackson and Mother Theresa. But I am not 26 with 24-inch waistline and buns of steel. I am 40-plus, a psychiatrist who dances to shake off the emotional fallout of dozens of gloomy patients.  I subscribe to AARP, not Vibe magazine.

I didn’t want just anybody. I wanted a partner who plunged me so deep in the musical groove that at the end of the song, I had to hug him, press my lips against his ear and murmur “Oh, my God. That was great”. I wanted someone who could already dance Salsa, loved it and looked great doing it. I needed a guy who wanted to dance, not date.

When virtual Salsa dating didn’t work, I decided to work the clubs. After two weeks of cruising my usual haunts, my last stop was the Allegro Ballroom in Emeryville, California.  Every Sunday night Allegro, a tawny converted warehouse in a mini-mall, draws a huge crowd, everybody from 16-year-old boys to 70-year-old grandfathers who started dancing salsa before they could talk. 

At 9pm I stepped into the Main Room.  Wailing trumpets, clattering stiletto heels and the raucous chatter of 400 people engulfing me .  The D.J. played “Montuno Street”, the music blasting so loudly that the walls rattled.

I only had two hours to get the job done since I had to be at my desk at seven the next morning. In front of the stage I saw flashy dancers breaking out their fancy footwork, guys like —Ramon, a stocky Peruvian wearing silver tipped cowboy boots, who dipped his partner so low that her ponytail  stirred up dust clouds on the floor.

I was determined to find a good looking, single guy whom I already loved to dance with. Two sweaty hours later, I had gotten nowhere. I’d danced with lots of men, asked a couple of them out, and been turned down.  I reconciled myself to another dateless holiday season. As I turned to leave, a skinny Filipino man grabbed my hand and nodded toward the dance floor. It was Jerry, 5’6” with a nutmeg- colored face and spiky black hair. He wore a loose white T-shirt and droopy cargo pants.   He’s been there all night, but he wasn’t the type I had in mind.  I knew from dancing with him before that while Jerry was passionate and expressive on the dance floor, as soon as the music stopped he clammed up.  I’d never heard him squeeze out more than a few painful sentences. Besides that he was 25: young enough to be my son. 

“Descarga Total”, a hard-rocking Cuban song played as I eagerly followed Jerry onto the hardwood floor.  I hadn’t found a date, but at least I would have one great dance before I went home.  My legs were tense.  I was nervous—he was that good a dancer.

Jerry took me in his arms, stroked my shoulder and I relaxed. We launched into a wonderful dance, our bodies riding on the piano’s insistent tumbao, and our feet chasing the breezy flute riffs. His eyes widened with delight when I followed his lead and smoothly completed a series of triple turns.   I laughed when he mimicked Shakira’s shoulder shimmies.  It was a 3 minute love affair with a soundtrack of throbbing conga rhythms. When the song ended, I closed my eyes, sighed and gave him a hug filled with gratitude and love. The kind of hug I reserve for Richard when he’d back from a three-week business trip.

That’s when I realized I had been making a mistake. This is what I should have looking for all along, this emotional electricity that arcs between simpatico dance partners.  Why not Jerry?  The passionate connection I felt with him was exactly what I wanted.  Who cares if he didn’t talk much? But I did not ask him out. There was no urgency anymore.  I was not worried about finding a dance partner. I would find a date easily, now that I had learned to look past the style of a guy’s pants, his haircut or his age.

Rita is a contributor to Root and runs the Salsa Roots website.  In addition to Salsa, she is also a talented Tango dancer.

 

 

Deadline for Essay Contest Extended!

The deadline for root's essay contest has been extended to
January 30, 2007

Top 5 Winners will receive a FREE copy of Rough Guides World Music Volume 1: Africa and the Middle East featuring full coverage of genres from Afrobeat to Arabesque!

Entries accepted now through January 30, 2007.

Please submit entries to: essays_root@yahoo.com

Essay Contest Details

Essay Contest Reminder

Get featured in Root!

What was your most powerful, moving dance or music experience?  Was it performing on-stage at the Flamenco Bienal in Spain, was it drumming in a Candomble ceremony in Brazil, or was it in the middle of a mosh pit slam-dancing in London in 1978?  We want to hear all about it! Share your experience with the world...

Send us an essay of 500 words or less.  We will post the top 5 winners during the month of January, 2007.

Top 5 Winners will receive a FREE copy of Rough Guides World Music Volume 1: Africa and the Middle East featuring full coverage of genres from Afrobeat to Arabesque!

Entries accepted from October 15 through December 15, 2006.

Please submit entries to: essays_root@yahoo.com

 

First Annual Photo Contest Winners

Thank you very much to all who entered our first photo contest!  We received numerous beautiful images which made choosing 1st and 2nd place winners a challenge.  Judging was based on composition, execution, emotional quality and how the image related to the categories specified.

Below are the winners starting with Best Overall:

"their performance intends to encapsulate and embody the soul and energy of the entire school"

Photographer: Eric Crawford

Image details: Rio de Janiero, 2003

The photo shows a rehearsal of a prominent Rio de
Janeiro samba school, GRES Imperatriz Leopoldinense.
It shows the porta-bandeira (flag-bearer) and her
partner, the mestre-sala, practicing out of costume.
It was taken about two weeks before the 2003 carnaval
parade. Not in full costume but with other dancers,
the percussion ensemble "bateria", and the truck with
the amplified singers, guitarists, and cavaquinho
players.

These pre-Carnaval rehearsals are open and free to the
public, and happen in the Sambodromo where the actual
parade competition takes place. (Earlier rehearsals
take place for weeks or months in the neighborhoods of
the schools themselves, some of which are more than an
hour from central Rio.)

The dancers in Rio's samba schools perform solo "samba
no pe" but the porta-bandeira and mestre-sala are a
bit of an exception. They swirl around the flag of the
school and each other; they dance more or less as a
couple, with several breaks for solo samba no pe. In a
sense, their performance intends to encapsulate and
embody the soul and energy of the entire school --
which includes thousands of people -- and the overall
sense of joy and high spirits that typify carnaval
samba in Rio.

Classroom 1st Place:

Photographer: Doug Plummer

Image details: County Donegal, Ireland, 1999

This is a class in traditional Donegal style Irish dance taught by Edie 
Bradley of Carrick, Co. Donegal, Ireland. This is a different style of 
social dance than the quadrille style set dances that has gained such 
popularity in Ireland in the last decade. Donegal dances are two-hand 
style couple dances, often danced to a polka rhythm.

This shot was taken in January 1999 at Edie's weekly class in Co. 
Donegal. 

Classroom 2nd Place:


Photographer: Andrew Page

Image details: Concord, Massachusetts, 2001







Last-minute rehearsal: The Angkor Dance Troupe Backstage
The Artistic Director of the Angkor Dance Troupe, Phousita Huy,
is working with apprentice Sovandara Dy.
 
This is a classical Cambodian dance called Blessing Dance.  
The Blessing Dance was first performed in Cambodia to rid the
royal palace of evil spirits and bless the royal kingdom.  Today it
is performed to bless events and welcome honored guests.  During
the performance, dancers sprinkle flower petals towards the
audience to bring peace, prosperity and good health in accordance
with Cambodian custom.




Community 1st Place:


Photographer: Marta Fodor

Image details: New Brunswick, New Jersey







Viktoria Juhasz, Ildiko Vigh Hajdu-Nemeth and Agnes
Vigh,  dancers from Csurdongolo Hungarian Folk Dance
Group during a rehearsal of a Sarkozi Karikazo Girls'
Dance, at the  Hungarian Scouts Home in New Brunswick,
New Jersey. 

Csurdongolo is a folk dance group based in New
Brunswick, made up of a mix of Hungarians who are new
arrivals in the US and dancers who are descendants of
refugees from Hungary after the 1956 revolution and
also immigrants from many other waves of migration.
The group performs at various Hungarian events,and
rehearses to recordings of music, but generally when they 
perform they have a live band, such as the local Eletfa Hungarian band.

The whole group is impressive in their knowledge of
the many rich Magyar (Hungarian) songs and dances from
the villages of present-day Hungary and Hungarian
villages in Transylvania and Slovakia. Each region of
Hungary has its own particular style of music and
dance, and staying authentic in presenting them, the
group generally wears the appropriate folk attire of
the region where the piece originates from. The wide
age range within the group permits the knowledge to be
passed from generation to generation. 

The role of Csurdongolo and folk bands like Eletfa is
important in preserving the Hungarian culture in North
America by bringing this rich heritage through the
many community social activities they promote and
enliven. 

Marta's ongoing series can viewed here:  
Hungarian Community in the New York Area

Community 2nd Place:


Photographer: Tai Power Seeff

Image details: Havana, Cuba















Guanguanco (Rumba) Dancer

More on Guanguanco origins & rhythms can be found at SalsaRoots.





Performance 1st Place:


Photographer: Andrew Page

Image details: Lowell, Massachusetts, 2006













Dancer, Heng Noeuk, of the Angkor Dance Troupe.
This is a classical Cambodian dance called Aspara Dance.  It is based
upon the statues and sculptures of dancers found in Cambodia's great
ancient temples such as Angkor Wat.  Asparas are celestial being who
linked the human world to the gods.  

This image was taken at a Cambodia New Year's celebration event in Lowell,
Massachusetts.  Lowell has the 2nd largest Cambodian-American population in the 
United States.  (2nd only to Long Beach, California)
The Angkor Dance Troupe was formed in 1986 by Cambodian refugees of the Khmer 
Rouge genocide.  When they resettles in Lowell, Massachusetts they brought a 
passion to carry on their cherished traditions - practice and perform, teach 
others, and see the art-forms preserved for future generations of all
cultures.  Their after-school and summer programs provide in-depth, 
high quality arts training and leadership development opportunities for 
inner-city youth.Their dance performances provide a poignant remind of the 
beauty and spirituality of Cambodian culture as well as helping provide
a sense of home and community in a new homeland.  

Performance 2nd Place:


Photographer: Amanda Moore

Image details: Gainesville, Florida, 2004

 
 















 

Dancer, Cerice Janan, is a professional bellydancer and member of the Troupe Bal Hepsi Dance Ensemble based in Tampa, Florida. On November 21, 2004, she performed an American cabaret-style bellydance routine, with silk veil, at the Middle Eastern Dance Education Association (MEDEA) annual charity recital. The recital, which takes place annually in Gainesville, Florida, donates all proceeds to the Alachua County Humane Society.

Travel 1st Place:


Photographer: Cristian Peña

Image details: Atlixco, Puebla, Mexico







Taken in the photographer's hometown of Atlixco, Puebla, Mexico at the
Huey Atlixcayotl Festival, this takes place the last Sunday of every year.
Many dance groups from different regions come to perform and share the
beauty of the their traditional costumes, language and music.

 The dance is called "Danza de Los Voladores" or sometimes 
"Danza de los Voladores de Papantla"  It is a Totonac dance from 
the region of Papantla, Veracruz where the origins of the dance are traced.
Other regions where the dance has a very strong roots is in 
Cuetzalan del Progreso, Puebla, were many groups from around the region 
come to pay tribute to the patron saint San Francis de Assisi.

All the dance groups are generations of other generations who come 
to participate at this event. They are not part of any particular dance 
company or school. Many of the new generations continue practicing 
the dances, others learn the music and language from their particular 
regions where they are all well known for keeping it alive.

Travel 2nd Place:


Photographer: Marc Blaustein

Image details: Bamako, Mali, 2006


















Doundoun player, Mali, 2006.

The image was taken in a little suburb on the
outskirts of Bamako, Mali. A group of drummers
gathered inside the courtyard of an old community
center to play for a dance class. The man shown in the
photograph is a local musician, playing with 5 other
drummers (not depicted). This was a impromptu jam
session, the sound of which attracted throngs of
children from around the neighborhood (seen in the
background).
The music is Malian djembe-based music, from the Mande/Bambara
tradition.  

Essay Contest from Root & Rough Guides

Get featured in Root!

What was your most powerful, moving dance or music experience?  Was it performing on-stage at the Flamenco Bienal in Spain, was it drumming in a Candomble ceremony in Brazil, or was it in the middle of a mosh pit slam-dancing in London in 1978?  We want to hear all about it!  Share your experience with the world...

Send us an essay of 500 words or less.  We will post the top 5 winners during the month of January, 2007.

Top 5 Winners will receive a FREE copy of Rough Guides World Music Volume 1: Africa and the Middle East featuring full coverage of genres from Afrobeat to Arabesque!

Entries accepted from October 15 through December 15, 2006.

Please submit entries to: essays_root@yahoo.com

 

Focus on Bellydance & Contest Reminder

root announces our new topic for August and September: Bellydance

We will feature interviews with pioneers in the contemporary artform and articles tracing the history (and historicity) of this powerful dance.  Keep checking back for the music reviews, photos and video clips.

What I've discovered in researching this dance is that Bellydancers love to talk!  There is a great deal of passion involved in what has, for many, been a transformative power in their lives.  With this passion comes controversy and the thread topics are full of opinion and emotion.

Specifically in regards to the American dancers, the message boards have women from all over the country talking about how the dance has opened them up emotionally and given rise to a power that has lain dormant in our vast consumerist culture.  Women are finding community, pride in their bodies and confidence.

That said, root invites all dancers and musicians to chime in.  Feel free to contribute your comments and feelings and spread the word about what you see here!

Also, a reminder that our First Annual Photo Contest is still open for entries.  Submit your photo today!

                                                                                                  

Root Magazine Photo Contest

 

International Exposure to Root's Global Dance and Music Scene

 

Enter Your Favorite dance photo and WIN!

 

Categories: Classroom, Performance, Community, Travel, Best Overall

Root Magazine is now accepting entries for its First Annual Photo Contest. The contest is open to all interested parties and the entry is FREE. Regardless of whether you are a professional or an amateur, a digital shooter or a film lover, a dancer or a musician that is sending in your greatest pose, you can enter the contest.

 

"We're launching this photo contest to bring in ethnic dance photography from all over the world, to share the essence of Root and its mission to bring together the best in global dance and music, and more importantly, to showcase our visitors and their talents." Marcy Mendelson, Root Publisher

 

Images will be judged on overall photographic and artistic quality. 1^st and 2^nd place winners will be chosen in each category and there will be a BEST OVERALL winner. This contest is FREE! There are absolutely no entry fees... so enter today!

 

The Photos entered in this contest have a chance to be chosen as featured photographs in Root and we will include a link on our site for viewing all winning photos to share them with your friends.

      

 

How To Enter:

 

To enter the contest, please follow the steps below.
Limit one entry per household.

 

Entries must be emailed to

photo_root@yahoo.com

by

August 31, 2006

. 

Contest winners will be notified by Sept. 25^th and announced by October 1, 2006. All winners will be posted online. Photo Essays may be part of the prize, so send in your photos today for a broader chance of being discovered.

   

First Name:

Middle Initial:

Last Name:

Email address: (required) 

 

Address:

City:

State:

Zip Code:

Country:

 

 

Photos: 

All files MUST be:

JPEG format

72dpi 

200k max in size

 

Title of Photo:

Category: limit one image per category

   

I hereby understand that I am the sole copyright owner of this photo and I am aware that it will be posted on the internet as my original copyright and my original artwork.

 

 

 

Privacy Policy: Root Magazine values its visitors and customers. We also respect your privacy. We collect your information to communicate with you about our site, services, products and contests and will maintain the use of your customer information responsibly. We do not release information to third/outside parties  ever.