The Benefits of Nurturing Passions Besides Dance
In ballet, I have struggled with confidence. I always felt unworthy and inferior to everyone. Being considered a late starter, I always had the feeling that I was constantly playing “catch-up” when it came to my peers. I spent too many years at my first ballet studio, receiving bad training and abuse from my teacher who always made me feel like I would never amount to anything as a dancer. These feelings of inadequacy negatively impacted my attitude towards dance and also contributed to my low self-esteem. I always felt something was holding me back from dancing my best. It wasn’t until I underwent a major surgery that I came back to professional ballet with a newfound confidence and a greater passion for the art form.
A Story of a Dancer’s Road to Recover
By Anna Nelson, DWC Ambassador
click below to shop the look:
In ballet, I have struggled with confidence. I always felt unworthy and inferior to everyone. Being considered a late starter, I always had the feeling that I was constantly playing “catch-up” when it came to my peers. I spent too many years at my first ballet studio, receiving bad training and abuse from my teacher who always made me feel like I would never amount to anything as a dancer. These feelings of inadequacy negatively impacted my attitude towards dance and also contributed to my low self-esteem. I always felt something was holding me back from dancing my best. It wasn’t until I underwent a major surgery that I came back to professional ballet with a newfound confidence and a greater passion for the art form.
In 2018, during a guest performance of the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker. I felt a sharp pain in my hip while doing a developpe a la seconde into a fouette arabesque on stage. Thanks to that fateful moment on stage, I realized I needed to go to the doctor. Years prior, I had brought up that I had some hip pain and constant clicking in my hip to my doctor, but was told that it was arthritis, and the only thing that could be done was to make sure I keep my hip warm before dancing. I accepted that diagnosis and made sure to wear extra warm-ups while taking class for years, until my hip pain progressed to the point of me not being able to walk after waking up in the morning.
Fast forward to the fall of 2020. I had been diagnosed with bilateral hip dysplasia by a hip specialist and was told the only surgery that would help my pain long-term, as well as prevent me from having to get a hip replacement by the age of 35 would be to undergo a procedure known as a Periacetabular Osteotomy, or PAO for short. This would be a major surgery that would require five days in the hospital and six to eight months of physical therapy. I was told that I would most likely be able to dance again, but at a “modified” level. This horrified me, but the amount of pain I was in daily and the fear of having an artificial hip joint so young in life, led me to my decision to undergo the operation.
The recovery process was definitely the hardest physical struggle I have endured in my life. I was on crutches for 2 months, which led me to be completely dependent on my husband who, at the time, was working 14 hour days as an infantry reconnaissance platoon leader in the Army. I remember feeling frustrated many times because I was unable to do simple tasks, like washing the dishes, because putting all my weight on one leg for more than a few minutes was unbearable. The most difficult aspect of recovery for me, was that I was completely banned from doing any physical activities to allow my hip bone to heal without bending the screws. Even though during this time I had put professional dancing on the back burner and was focused on completing my degree, I would try to make it to as many ballet and fitness classes that my busy academic schedule would allow. Moving my body and exercising made me feel great and relieved a lot of the daily stressors in life. That was all taken away from me and I needed to divert my energy into something else that would allow me to feel fulfilled. It was during this time I was grateful that I was currently in school and had grown so many interests outside of dance. I had to remind myself of the difficult things I had already accomplished in my life, and I also needed to accept the reality that I may not ever be able to dance at the level I was dancing at before again. I placed all my passion and energy into studying at my final year of University, I rediscovered my love of reading, I grew my faith in God and I also learned how to give myself grace and be patient with my healing journey.
I remembered when I was a pre-professional ballet student, my entire identity was rooted in the fact that I was a ballet dancer. I had put all my energy into dance. I never took the time to develop friendships, I never attended homecoming or prom, I switched to online high school my junior year, all so that I could focus on my ballet training. If I had this surgery back then, I don’t think I could have handled it.
After six months of physical therapy, I began taking a ballet class for my last elective credits over zoom at the University of Washington. As the months progressed, I began taking ballet classes at local studios and gaining my physical strength back. Upon graduation from UW, I increased my ballet training significantly. I began to feel like I had control of my body again. The confidence I gained from receiving my degree in a difficult, competitive major at a top university gave me the confidence to “test out” my new hip in a professional ballet setting. I took a company class at Olympic Ballet Theatre and was offered a position. Immediately, I began rehearsals for the Nutcracker and went on to perform 13 shows about one month later. Although a major injury or surgery seems like a negative setback, I challenge you to reconsider. Perhaps just what you need to improve your dancing is to step away completely and nurture other passions or interests. The confidence you may gain from excelling in other areas in life or learning a new skill could be just what you need to improve and increase your confidence in dance.
Sources:
https://www.hss.edu/conditions_Periacetabular-Osteotomy-PAO.asp
Disclaimer
All content found on the Dancewear Center Website, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and all other relevant social media platforms including: text, images, audio, or other formats were created for informational purposes only. Offerings for continuing education credits are clearly identified and the appropriate target audience is identified. The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this Website.
If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, go to the emergency department, or call 911 immediately. Dancewear Center does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, physicians, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned on dancewearcenter.net. Reliance on any information provided by dancewearcenter.net, Dancewear Center employees, contracted writers, or medical professionals presenting content for publication to Dancewear Center is solely at your own risk.
Links to educational content not created by Dancewear Center are taken at your own risk. Dancewear Center is not responsible for the claims of external websites and education companies.
Getting to Know DWC Ambassador Alberto Gaspar
Alberto shares that what initially attracted him to dance was the challenge it presented to him. “It felt like something that you would have to try forever and never be perfect at,” he says. "That was something very alluring to me.” Today, he has an appreciation for the numerous skills dancers acquire, including musicality and coordination.
A Professional Dancer’s Thoughts on the Local Industry
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Photo by Staria Belle | click below to shop the look!
Naturally, when many dancers graduate high school, they ask themselves “what’s next” as they decide which path to take with their dance career. The professional world is a space that can seem out of touch and impermeable. However, DWC Ambassador Alberto Gaspar is here to share that the professional realm has just as many ups and downs as the amateur dance world. Read on to learn more about Alberto’s dance journey and upcoming plans as a local artist and DWC Ambassador. Be sure to check out Alberto’s original choreography in Olympic Ballet Theatre’s summer performance on June 4th at Edmonds Center for the Arts.
Alberto was introduced to ballet when he was invited to a summer program for musical comedy by a friend. After getting more involved with dance, he was later accepted into Escuela Nacional de Danza Clásica in Mexico City. Alberto shares that he’s danced with various companies across the United States, Europe, and Asia, including Miami City Ballet, Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre, Horiuchi Ballet, Saint Louis Ballet, and Ballet Memphis. In 2017, he joined Olympic Ballet Theatre, where he dances, teaches, and choreographs full-time.
Alberto shares that what initially attracted him to dance was the challenge it presented to him. “It felt like something that you would have to try forever and never be perfect,” he says. “[That] was something very alluring to me.” Today, he has an appreciation for the numerous skills dancers acquire, including musicality and coordination.
Alberto describes his approach and outlook on ballet as “old school,” sharing that he places great value on tradition within the art form in addition to embracing changes. He also appreciates the fact that dance acts as a place of common ground for people from different backgrounds. Alberto says that he’s often felt a lot of safety with this attribute of dance. Being able to view dance as a blank canvas for artists of all identities to express themselves upon can bring about a great deal of security.
Alberto looks forward to seeing more companies have a human-centered approach to dance, valuing the common threads of humanity that unite dancers together rather than the things that can keep them separated. “We’re all human beings!” he declares. “I’m happy to be living right now in these times because change is happening. We just have to make sure changes are happening in the right way and not in a way that… [causes people to] lose their true identity.”
Alberto shares that “consistency” is one of the biggest challenges he experiences and witnesses in the dance world, particularly in terms of finding work as a professional dancer. Reasons why certain dancers book jobs can be completely arbitrary, which is important to keep in mind when auditioning. And as much as Alberto loves to dance, he also recognizes the necessity of finding other passions outside of the practice. He wants his students to know that they can have an identity outside of the art form.
Photo by Staria Belle | click below to shop the look!
Alberto learned about the DWC Ambassador program through Dancewear Center’s Instagram, where he shares that he loves reading the blog interviews and looking at the professional photographs. “The diversity is something that I really enjoy about [Dancewear Center],” Alberto says of the types of stories that are shared across the DWC Blog and social media. He loves seeing people of all backgrounds participating in the dance industry in a range of capacities. “You don’t have to be a professional…to be a part of the community,” he shares.
As an ambassador, Alberto looks forward to sharing his perspective as a local professional dancer and showcase the challenges many professionals face. “No matter what level you are, you will have ups and downs,” he shares.
A change that Alberto hopes to see made in the dance world is dance becoming more accessible to people from different socioeconomic backgrounds. He points out that ballet is an elitist art form, often only available to more affluent community members due to the expenses of classes and equipment.
In May, Alberto performed in Don Quixote with Olympic Ballet Theatre at Edmonds Center for the Arts. And on June 4th, he’s excited to be showcasing new classical ballet choreography at Edmonds Center for the Arts. Alberto encourages those interested to look into the summer program at Olympic Ballet School. He also does private coaching and choreography and encourages people to reach out to him if they’re interested in either of those services.
Keep an eye out for more from Alberto at DWC in the coming months!
Disclaimer
All content found on the Dancewear Center Website, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and all other relevant social media platforms including: text, images, audio, or other formats were created for informational purposes only. Offerings for continuing education credits are clearly identified and the appropriate target audience is identified. The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this Website.
If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, go to the emergency department, or call 911 immediately. Dancewear Center does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, physicians, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned on dancewearcenter.net. Reliance on any information provided by dancewearcenter.net, Dancewear Center employees, contracted writers, or medical professionals presenting content for publication to Dancewear Center is solely at your own risk.
Links to educational content not created by Dancewear Center are taken at your own risk. Dancewear Center is not responsible for the claims of external websites and education companies.
A Local Choreographer on His Creative Process
The title of Alberto’s work is “1 in 10^2,685,000" in reference to the statistical probability of a human being born. “The possibility of someone [being] alive is…a miracle. An honor,” Alberto says. After reading about this statistic and literature about the persistence of human survival, Alberto was inspired to create a piece that recognizes the triumph of being alive as well as the challenges of living. “It’s not easy to be alive,” Alberto recognizes. “It is happy, but it is a struggle.” He shares that the piece is about the miracle of existing on Earth and the heaviness that human journeys can carry. “You have to find beauty within the journey to be able to be happy,” Alberto says of human struggle.
Alberto Gaspar on Celebrating the Miracle of Life Through Dance
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Amid all the challenges humans experience on a daily basis, it can be easy to lose sight of the fact that our mere existence is something worth celebrating. Through his upcoming work for Olympic Ballet Theatre, DWC Ambassador and local dancer/choreographer Alberto Gaspar strives to communicate the miracle that is life itself and showcase the technique and talent of local professional dancers. Read on to learn more about Alberto’s creative inspiration and choreographic process. Click here to get tickets to see Alberto’s work in Olympic Ballet Theatre’s summer performance Saturday June 4th at 7:00 PM at Edmonds Center for the Arts.
The title of Alberto’s work is “1 in 102,685,000" in reference to the statistical probability of a human being born. “The possibility of someone [being] alive is…a miracle. An honor,” Alberto says. After reading about this statistic and literature about the persistence of human survival, Alberto was inspired to create a piece that recognizes the triumph of being alive as well as the challenges of living. “It’s not easy to be alive,” Alberto recognizes. “It is happy, but it is a struggle.” He shares that the piece is about the miracle of existing on Earth and the heaviness that human journeys can carry. “You have to find beauty within the journey to be able to be happy,” Alberto says of human struggle.
Alberto says that he considers each of his dance works to be a child of his, sharing that once he lands on an initial choreographic idea, it evolves and changes as it’s passed on to the dancers. “Sometimes you come up with an idea and the dancers transform it into something much more complex,” Alberto says of the choreographic process. The finished work is rarely the exact same as the initial vision of the choreographer.
Alberto says that one of the elements that has the biggest impact on his choreographic process is the music. “Music determines what you’re going to express. It determines the mode,” Alberto says of its significance. For “1 in 102,685,000", Alberto uses a 28-minute musical piece by Michael Nyman that was intended for the integration of the high speed train in Paris, France. “It’s a very powerful [piece of] music that [is] obviously about our journey,” Alberto says, connecting it back to the theme of the work. He references the sound of the train running on the tracks as a guiding force in the music.
Initially, Alberto’s work was conceived for dancers in sneakers and socks, but was later choreographed for dancers en pointe. Olympic Ballet Theatre describes the piece as “vibrant” and “neoclassical” in its style. Alberto has described himself as an “old-school” ballet dancer, expressing the respect he has for productions like The Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker that still hold up after over a century. At the same time, he recognizes that new art is constantly being created. “Everything is evolving into a much more modernized expression of the balletic world,” Alberto says of choreographic trends in ballet. “That’s what I’m bringing into my piece as well.”
Alberto is grateful that his rehearsal process hasn’t been as greatly affected by the COVID-19 pandemic as past productions have. He shares that over the course of the past two years, rehearsing virtually was an interesting and challenging process. He appreciates the fact that he can direct dancers in person nowadays and provide tactile feedback to help transfer a more palpable energy among the performers.
“I’m always curious about how people feel,” Alberto says of audiences’ relationships to his creations. He enjoys seeing how people interpret his work based on their own readings of it and personal life experiences. Alberto is looking forward to not only inspiring people through his work but showcasing the talent and caliber of eighteen professional dancers. “It’s rare to see that nowadays,” he says of watching dance pieces with that many professional dancers en pointe. “It’s important for everyone to be involved in the dance community,” Alberto says, sharing that he’s excited to show people the talent that Seattle dancers possess. “There’s a lot that we have to celebrate…I want people to feel proud that they’re a part of this community,” he shares.
Get your tickets to see Alberto’s work in Olympic Ballet Theatre’s summer performance Saturday, June 4th at 7:00 PM at Edmonds Center for the Arts.
Disclaimer
All content found on the Dancewear Center Website, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and all other relevant social media platforms including: text, images, audio, or other formats were created for informational purposes only. Offerings for continuing education credits are clearly identified and the appropriate target audience is identified. The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this Website.
If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, go to the emergency department, or call 911 immediately. Dancewear Center does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, physicians, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned on dancewearcenter.net. Reliance on any information provided by dancewearcenter.net, Dancewear Center employees, contracted writers, or medical professionals presenting content for publication to Dancewear Center is solely at your own risk.
Links to educational content not created by Dancewear Center are taken at your own risk. Dancewear Center is not responsible for the claims of external websites and education companies.
A Local Dancer On Storytelling and Building Community Through Dance
Alex Ung shares that when people ask about his nationality, he often uses an umbrella term, like sharing that his family is from Laos, rather than diving deeper into his more specific tribal culture of the Tai Dam. “It was just easier,” Alex says. “Immigration Stories” provided Alex with an opportunity to share more about his culture, in an effort to “not let it disappear into history books” and simultaneously help write history. “We’re a small tribal culture that not a whole lot of people know about and so I wanted to bring that to light,” he says of the Tai Dam people.
Alex Ung on Cultural Representation and the Guild’s Plans for 2022
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Photo by Karya Schanilec
Art has the power to move people in ways unimaginable. Through creating and performing dance works, choreographers and dancers have the power to express their emotions and connect to their cultural backgrounds and local communities. Alex Ung of the Guild Dance Company opens up about sharing his familial and cultural background through dance, bolstering community, and the Guild’s plans for 2022. Be sure to catch the Guild’s show “El Camino” and their performance at the Seattle International Dance Festival in June.
Alex was born and raised in Iowa, where he began dancing in high school in the show choir and competition scene. But Alex shares that his dance career didn’t start until college when he began working with the hip hop club at Iowa State University. “I think that’s where it really hit me that I really love to dance,” he shares.
When Alex moved to the Seattle area, he began teaching hip hop at a dance studio on Bainbridge Island, where he worked for over a decade. He eventually broadened his scope into jazz, contemporary jazz, and contemporary ballet styles, and also began directing the competition dance team. Alex has worked with other dance studios and companies in the Seattle area, including Jeroba Dance.
Alex says that dance has stuck with him largely because he has a tough time expressing his emotions and thoughts through words. “I feel like I can do it a bit better with my body [and] with my movement style,” he says of emoting. Having earned a degree in engineering, Alex also shares that he has an appreciation for the aesthetics of lines and shapes in dance and witnessing the physical challenges that the body can endure. He loves the feeling of doing something physical that he didn’t think he could do and surprising himself.
In 2018, Alex founded the Guild Dance Company after taking a break from teaching. He shares that he had missed creating dance and wanted to jump back into the choreographic world to tell his own stories in his own style, as well as learn from other dancers. “I thought building my own dance company would be a good way to do that,” Alex says, sharing that the Guild has become a place for dancers to build each other up.
“For me, the Guild is about the community and learning and experiencing each other,” Alex says. He loves being able to express himself and be vulnerable alongside the rest of the company dancers.
In 2019, the Guild Dance Company performed “Immigration Stories,” a show inspired by Alex’s family’s experience immigrating to the United States from Laos. Following high school, Alex and many of his relatives that were his age felt like their traditional culture was dying, as many of them were not making efforts to learn their family’s language or carry out traditional cultural activities. “It felt sad to me,” Alex shares. “I wanted to create a work that could help people understand where my family was coming from, where we came from in the past, and where we are right now.”
Alex shares that when people ask about his nationality, he often uses an umbrella term, like sharing that his family is from Laos, rather than diving deeper into his more specific tribal culture of the Tai Dam. “It was just easier,” Alex says. “Immigration Stories” provided Alex with an opportunity to share more about his culture, in an effort to “not let it disappear into history books” and simultaneously help write history. “We’re a small tribal culture that not a whole lot of people know about and so I wanted to bring that to light,” he says of the Tai Dam people.
Through interviewing his family and others, Alex realized how fortunate he is to be doing what he loves as a result of the sacrifices and risks his family made. He also learned that people from different cultures shared similar immigration experiences, which sparked inspiration. He found it so meaningful to find that people aren’t alone in their challenges and that community can be an invaluable form of support.
Amid the rise of hate crimes against Asian Americans during the COVID-19 pandemic, Alex reflected on the racism he and his family had experienced in Seattle and elsewhere and felt angry. “I wanted to express my frustration and my experience with what was going on,” he says. So Alex brought together a group of dancers of color to create a video surrounding the theme of “Stop the Hate, Stop the Injustice.” An important co-producer in the process was local artist Alicia Mullikin, a first-generation Mexican American dance artist, educator, and community organizer. Alex shares that the project was a way for community members from various cultural backgrounds to come together and express their feelings of frustration and hurt regarding the rising hate crimes and common struggles they experienced.
Photo by Stuart Murtland
In the dance community, Alex hopes to see more dancers supporting one another, specifically by attending one another’s shows. “We’re all in the same bubble,” Alex shares, pointing to how Seattle-based dancers all face similar challenges, particularly finding funding to create work.
Moving into the next year, the Guild is planning to put on “El Camino,” a music and dance production made in collaboration with the Tudor Choir inspired by the pilgrims that traveled on the iconic Camino de Santiago. Alex drew inspiration for the production after walking on the trail himself, and undergoing what he describes as a “life-changing experience.” He was enamored by the people he met and the towns he passed through, learning about the different intentions of people embarking on the journey. Stay tuned to the Guild Dance Company’s website for more information about show dates!
The Guild Dance Company also plans to perform in the 2022 Seattle International Dance Festival this June, tickets are available here.
Disclaimer
All content found on the Dancewear Center Website, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and all other relevant social media platforms including: text, images, audio, or other formats were created for informational purposes only. Offerings for continuing education credits are clearly identified and the appropriate target audience is identified. The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this Website.
If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, go to the emergency department, or call 911 immediately. Dancewear Center does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, physicians, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned on dancewearcenter.net. Reliance on any information provided by dancewearcenter.net, Dancewear Center employees, contracted writers, or medical professionals presenting content for publication to Dancewear Center is solely at your own risk.
Links to educational content not created by Dancewear Center are taken at your own risk. Dancewear Center is not responsible for the claims of external websites and education companies.
Dr. Miguel Almario on Holistic Teaching and PT Care
“I would like to see a lot more empathy towards the culture and the people that created the dance,” Miguel says of a change he hopes to see made in the larger dance industry. He shares that many of the people who created dance genres like hip hop and breaking are still alive and accessible to dancers, yet their contributions can get drowned out. More focused on physicality, Miguel also hopes to see more dancers treating and training their bodies like the athletes that they are so that they can keep dancing for as long as they can. “You’ve got to put that work in so that you can keep going,” he shares.
On Offering Cultural Competency and Wellness Services
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Photo by Adam Gatdula
Having a full appreciation and understanding of the history and mechanics of dance requires more than just time in the studio. Dancers like Dr. Miguel Almario are providing community members with the cultural context behind their movements and access to compassionate and individualized physical therapy services. Read on to learn more about Miguel’s dance journey in the freestyle and commercial space, teaching programs at The Arete Project, and PT services at MovementX.
Miguel started exploring breaking his junior year of high school when his younger brother encouraged him to give it a try. He joined a local dance troupe called Culture Shock DC, a non-profit dance organization in the Washington DC area aimed at community outreach. Miguel’s passion for dance grew immensely. He says that one of the things he loves most about dance is that one person’s artistic expression can differ so much from another’s. “I have the freedom to find my voice and my style of movement,” Miguel shares.
He later ended up competing on the TV show America’s Best Dance Crew on MTV in Los Angeles, California. “That was a time where I was like ‘I can make something of this,’” Miguel says of the turning point in his career. After competing on TV, Miguel shares he started focusing on dance in a more professional capacity, as prior to the show, he hadn’t experienced any “formal” training. Growing up, outside of Culture Shock DC, Miguel practiced dance in his friends’ basement and in his school’s cafeteria, often ordering VHS tapes of competitions to study and draw inspiration from.
After some time, Miguel decided to take a break from dance and returned home to DC from LA. He shares that this was a time in his life when he deeply pondered what kind of life he was going to lead. “I always knew I wanted to be working with people,” Miguel says. Eventually, he landed on pursuing physical therapy, sharing that both of his parents were physicians which greatly influenced him. He thought PT could provide him with the opportunity to bridge the worlds of dance and physical medicine.
While in PT school, Miguel danced with a dance team in Boston, Massachusetts, where he underwent rigorous training. After graduating from PT school, he moved back to Los Angeles to work as a physical therapist and dancer.
Photo by Adam Gatdula
Following his experience in the traditional physical therapy clinic setting, Miguel realized he was interested in working in a role that allowed him to make stronger, more intimate connections with his clients. That’s when he got connected with MovementX, a physical therapy provider that offers in-person and virtual treatment that is adaptable to clients’ varied lifestyles.
“I work with a lot of dancers,” Miguel says of his PT work at MovementX, sharing that he serves all kinds of clients, including those recovering from minor or major injuries, those looking to improve their ability to move or perform, or those who feel generally physically limited in one way or another.
Miguel shares that his dance experience has been unique, as he has trained in more community-oriented, freestyle, breaking spaces, and has had heavy exposure to the more commercial world as well. Miguel’s wife Niecey Almario is also a dancer, teacher, and choreographer. Today, Niecey and Miguel Almario teach a variety of courses together in Seattle through The Arete Project. Miguel shares that he and his wife collectively offer a holistic dance experience, informing people of the cultural context behind movements and how certain techniques can apply to different professional settings, like on a dance team or in a music video.
Photo by Adam Gatdula
Honoring the cultural roots of different styles of movement is of the utmost importance to Miguel. For example, he shares that hip hop and street dance have roots in Black American communities and that it’s important for people to know this to understand and appreciate the art form more fully. Miguel shares that learning the history behind dance styles like hip hop has made him realize that this art form he partakes in is much bigger than him as an individual.
“I would like to see a lot more empathy towards the culture and the people that created the dance,” Miguel says of a change he hopes to see made in the larger dance industry. He shares that many of the people who created dance genres like hip hop and breaking are still alive and accessible to dancers, yet their contributions can get drowned out. More focused on physicality, Miguel also hopes to see more dancers treating and training their bodies like the athletes that they are so that they can keep dancing for as long as they can. “You’ve got to put that work in so that you can keep going,” he shares.
Disclaimer
All content found on the Dancewear Center Website, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and all other relevant social media platforms including: text, images, audio, or other formats were created for informational purposes only. Offerings for continuing education credits are clearly identified and the appropriate target audience is identified. The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this Website.
If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, go to the emergency department, or call 911 immediately. Dancewear Center does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, physicians, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned on dancewearcenter.net. Reliance on any information provided by dancewearcenter.net, Dancewear Center employees, contracted writers, or medical professionals presenting content for publication to Dancewear Center is solely at your own risk.
Links to educational content not created by Dancewear Center are taken at your own risk. Dancewear Center is not responsible for the claims of external websites and education companies.
Megan Margaret Moore on Healing the “Disembodied Dancer” Through SALTSHAKE
On May 28, 2022, Megan will be holding “INTRODUCING SALTSHAKE” at the Nod Theater in Seattle, WA. At this workshop, Megan will be introducing “saltshake,” a movement form designed to help relieve trauma in the body. The movement form involves choreographed somatic healing techniques and Yoga Asana poses that have specific intentions behind them, such as regulating the nervous system.
A Local Artist on Trauma-Informed Movement and Education
Trigger Warning: Trauma
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Photo by Muñoz Motions
Over time, certain teaching and communication behaviors in the dance world don’t only become normalized, they become expected. This is the case even when these kinds of behaviors result in trauma that causes dancers to become “disembodied” from their practice. That’s why local artist and teacher Megan Margaret Moore created SALTSHAKE, a brand dedicated to sharing Trauma-Informed dance and education with the arts community, specifically aimed at helping those that may identify as a “disembodied dancer.” Read on to learn about Megan’s journey and SALTSHAKE’s INTRODUCING SALTSHAKE event at Nod Theater on March 28, 2022.
Megan was inspired to dance after watching her older sister dancing growing up. She recalls trying to mimic her sister’s dance moves on her own as a little one. Around age three, Megan enrolled in her first class, sharing that she was immediately overwhelmed with passion for dance from an early age. “It was just my whole heart. Everything I thought about had to do with dancing every single day,” Megan says. She continued training under the Cecchetti ballet method until about ninth grade.
Megan says that she is grateful for the support she received as a young artist growing up in Huntington Beach, California, sharing that she participated in the Academy of Performing Arts (APA) magnet program at Huntington Beach High School. She shares that she was granted amazing opportunities through the program, including the ability to choreograph nearly ten pieces before she graduated high school. In addition, Megan traveled to the New Prague Dance Festival with APA to dance as an apprentice under the choreographer Marie Hoffman. It was through these experiences that she realized choreography was the path she wanted to go down.
Megan attended Cornish College of the Arts, which is what brought her up to Seattle. She is grateful for all the mentors and choreographers she got to meet and work with at Cornish. And Megan also shares that her college years were some of the hardest times of her life, as many of the unhealthy, yet normalized, teaching and communication practices in the dance industry began to accumulate and take their toll on her. Always being expected to put a smile on one’s face and dance through the pain can take a lot out of a performer.
After graduating in 2019, Megan had been hired to choreograph for an opera at Whidbey Island Center of the Arts, which unfortunately got shut down as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. She says that during the widespread lockdown, many of the uncomfortable feelings Megan had been suppressing began to bubble to the surface. Megan moved back in with her family, eventually landing on Whidbey Island where she is today.
Photo by Muñoz Motions
Megan developed SALTSHAKE largely for the “disembodied dancer,” an artist who wishes to pursue their passions but feels “they must stifle the sensitivity that attracts them to the arts in order to cope with the intensity of their artistic training.” Megan landed on this label to describe what she was experiencing coming out of the COVID-19 lockdown, a disconnect from her body and identity as a dancer. In the midst of the pandemic, when Megan felt as though she was unable to dance, she found herself going through unique, self-made movements that allowed her to feel a sense of groundedness in a way that was quite healing. This was where the seed for SALTSHAKE was planted.
Through SALTSHAKE, Megan strives to gently provide dancers who may be “walking the path of trauma recovery” with somatic expressions and exercises to aid in their “reconnection to embodiment.” SALTSHAKE describes itself as “trauma-informed,” as it has an eye toward the trauma that is inherent in mainstream dance practices. Megan strives to help dancers who feel disembodied know that they’re not alone, as well as provide tools to help deconstruct the harmful narratives the industry perpetuates, and help dancers re-center and self-regulate and find a love for dance again.
Megan says that growing up she received subliminal messages that being “sensitive” was a bad thing, especially in the dance world. She recalls feeling so much shame about how emotional she felt about things, but today she’s learned that sensitivity is a superpower, as it helps her better understand her students’ experiences and give them the support she would have wanted. Being sensitive is also extremely helpful as a dancer, as it helps performers better understand and tell physical and emotional narratives. “It should be celebrated to be a sensitive being in this art form, in all art forms, [and] in life,” Megan says.
Photo by Muñoz Motions
Throughout May 2022, Megan has been offering introductory classes, including trauma-informed yoga on Saturday mornings virtually and in-person in Langely, Washington. Those in the Seattle area simply have to jump on a ferry to Whidbey Island to experience this slow flow embodiment process. SALTSHAKE also offers a contemporary class that is focused on exploring narrative, without a “right” or “wrong” way to perform.
On May 28, 2022, Megan will be holding “INTRODUCING SALTSHAKE” at the Nod Theater in Seattle, WA. At this workshop, Megan will be introducing “saltshake,” a movement form designed to help relieve trauma in the body. The movement form involves choreographed somatic healing techniques and Yoga Asana poses that have specific intentions behind them, such as regulating the nervous system. Megan will be offering weekly saltshake classes in Seattle throughout June. In August, SALTSHAKE will be partnering with Season + Cycle, founded by Nicole Frederiksen, a menstrual health specialist and former professional dancer in the Seattle area. The two organizations will be holding a one-day workshop relating to reconnecting disembodied dancers to their bodies. Keep an eye out for more information in the coming months.
Disclaimer
All content found on the Dancewear Center Website, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and all other relevant social media platforms including: text, images, audio, or other formats were created for informational purposes only. Offerings for continuing education credits are clearly identified and the appropriate target audience is identified. The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this Website.
If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, go to the emergency department, or call 911 immediately. Dancewear Center does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, physicians, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned on dancewearcenter.net. Reliance on any information provided by dancewearcenter.net, Dancewear Center employees, contracted writers, or medical professionals presenting content for publication to Dancewear Center is solely at your own risk.
Links to educational content not created by Dancewear Center are taken at your own risk. Dancewear Center is not responsible for the claims of external websites and education companies.
The Division of Self, the Division of Identity
How we are defined is important. It helps tell the world our values, our morals, and our interests. But who makes that definition? Do we set the parameters ourselves by means that we dictate? Or is it determined by our background, heritage, and childhood?
As with most things in life, I suspect it’s a little of everything. There are factors we cannot control that play insurmountably in how we are viewed, including skin color, eye shape, and our parent’s socio-economic status. But there are other things that ebb and flow with our own desires like our morals, our interests, and the places we go. And then there are things that just happen, random events that you may not even realize are significant until ten years later when you look back at your life and realize that one seemingly meaningless decision, event, or person, changes the trajectory of your whole life.
Trigger Warning: Racial Slurs Used in Context, Mental Health
By Ethan Rome, DWC Director of Marketing
How we are defined is important. It helps tell the world our values, our morals, and our interests. But who makes that definition? Do we set the parameters ourselves by means that we dictate? Or is it determined by our background, heritage, and childhood?
As with most things in life, I suspect it’s a little of everything. There are factors we cannot control that play insurmountably in how we are viewed, including skin color, eye shape, and our parent’s socio-economic status. But there are other things that ebb and flow with our own desires like our morals, our interests, and the places we go. And then there are things that just happen, random events that you may not even realize are significant until ten years later when you look back at your life and realize that one seemingly meaningless decision, event, or person, changes the trajectory of your whole life.
Looking back at these things in my own life, it’s easy to point out why I made certain decisions. However, in those moments, there is no way I could have known why. As most people do, I make decisions in the present based on factors that I think I have set. But ten years from now, I’m certain I will realize that it could not have been any other way. We could go on for days dissecting every detail, but today I want to focus on a particular one. In light of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, I want to speak about one of the most prominent factors that has created a division in my own self.
I am half Korean and half Scandinavian. Which in my life has meant I am not enough of anything to anyone. Everyone sees me as an “other.” I cannot count the number of times a White person has asked me, “so are you Chinese or something?” Or the number of times an Asian person simply won’t speak to me until I’m able to gently assert my own Asian-ness (by somehow slipping it into the dead conversation, or saying “thank you” in Korean). Or the number of times someone of any race has said “so what are you?” I have been called both “chink-eyes” and “the white boy.” Growing up, I can only remember having one mixed-race friend and recall often wishing I could “just be normal.” There was a period of my life when I tried to pass (as singularly White). People would ask me, “So what are you?” I would reply “I’m normal, you know White.” I can confidently say now that White does not equal “normal.” There is nothing wrong with being White, but we can’t allow it to be the standard to which all other races must be compared. You are not irregular or weird because of your skin tone, culture, or ethnicity.
Everywhere I go, I feel left out or pushed aside by the people that I feel look like me or think like me. Feelings of dismissal and ostracization can lead to serious disorders. Studies have shown that people of mixed race “were the most likely to screen positive or at-risk for alcohol/substance use disorders, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and psychosis” (Imposter Syndrome in Multiracial Individuals). Because of this, I have always longed for a community that I felt I belonged to, but that also one that wanted me.
Due to this longing for community I have always tried new clubs, sports and activities. When I went to college, I was still searching for that sense of belonging. Therefore, I searched through the college club directory and decided to try breaking (or breakdancing). The intensity and uniqueness of breaking was reminiscent of watching Bruce Lee, one of the few male Asian icons in American culture. I saw something of myself in those bboys. Thus began my dance journey.
The breakers, and breaking in general, were very welcoming. They themselves came from all kinds of backgrounds, some grew up breaking, some only started a year ago, most were self-taught, all of them were glad to teach what they knew and have a conversation. This was likely aided by the fact that they were all so different from each other, dancers were Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, White, Black, and Hispanic. It was possibly the most diverse group on campus in terms of race/ethnicity. During this time, my feelings of unease or dismissal subsided, it does not matter what you look like when everyone looks different from the person standing next to them. However, being mixed raced is a unique beast that may slumber, but never dies.
During my time as a bboy, I also started to take classes in the Dance Department, ballet and modern specifically. Entering into the Dance Department came with the shock of the technical details of classical dance, as well as the fact that I was pretty much the only Asian person in the department, and one of the few people of color. I was suddenly back to being an “other.” Dancers are largely open-minded and accepting people. But even well-intentioned people might not notice their microaggressions, or don’t understand why calling me a “ninja” is maybe not the compliment they think it is (ninja are Japanese, I’m Korean, ninja were also often viewed as individuals without honor, assassins sent to do the dirty work and were shunned for completing the tasks given to them). My newfound passion in modern created the next division of my identity. Was I a breaker, or was I a modern dancer? For many reasons I chose to finish my degree in dance, and attempt a career as a “modern dancer.”
Moving to Seattle was a significant change in many ways, and it too was just a random event that happened to happen. Living in Seattle opened the door of contemporary dance. Contemporary has its own confusing and mixed background. Did it come from the lyrical/contemporary world? Did it come from the contemporary ballet world? Is it neither? Is it both? Perhaps it's because of this ambiguity that I became so enamored with it. It is almost a blank canvas, to be determined and designed by me. It is a place where I can express myself fully. I can utilize my classical training, I can incorporate my breaking origin. There is no one to tell me what I am or can do as a contemporary artist. I can use my art to express any idea I want such as my Korean heritage.
This piece was created in response to the recent outbreak of anti-Asian hatred
After moving here I also started to feel that I wasn’t quite as much of an outsider. They are still relatively few, but I have met more Hapa (a Hawaiian word meaning “half,” it has been co-opted by the half/mixed-Asian community and has its own controversy behind it) here than in the rest of my life combined. It has been wonderful to connect with others like me and to learn that I was not alone. I do not think the answer to solving this problem is simply to have more mixed raced babies, in fact, that too can be problematic; “We could have such beautiful babies'' is a terrible thing to say, reduces someone to their race, a singular part of their identity, and tokenizes certain races. It’s another example of a micro-aggression and how people often don’t understand that their “compliment” is actually quite demeaning.
So what can we do?
You can help by taking a moment to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Your compliment may be an insult to someone else (one man’s trash…). Do they understand that you meant to compliment them? Do you understand the cultural context you might be implying? Allow others to be themselves, accept them for who they are and let them demonstrate to you how they wish to be treated. Authentic representation also tells people they matter and shows them they are not alone. If you are multi-racial, then be yourself! If it is a part of you, don’t try to hide it, it very likely won’t work anyway.
If you feel you are an “other” I encourage you to take a deep breath, you are not alone. It may take time, it may be painful, but you can find ways to connect if you keep pushing yourself. Remove yourself from your ego, from notions of who you or other people think you need to be or should accomplish. Do not be afraid to enjoy something simply because other people look down on you for it, they probably just don’t understand it well enough. Your community might not look the way you envision it now, in fact, it is very likely to look entirely different, but it is out there. Alan Watts once said, “So don't worry too much, somebody's interested in everything. And anything you can be interested in, you'll find others will.”
Looking back at it now I see that there was really no other way, I was never going to fully be a bboy, I was never going to fully be a modern dancer; I will never be fully Asian nor fully White, I always have and always will be split. But that is not necessarily a bad thing. I am more empathic, more understanding, and more accepting because of it. And I am a significantly more unique artist because of it. I learned to see the strengths of my divisions. My only regret was how long I tried to hide and failed to see how my uniqueness can define my positive attributes as well as the negatives.
Looking back at it now I am grateful for my own confusing and mixed background.
Caring for Ourselves as Dancers of Color
As a chunky Asian baby in a leotard, I had no idea yet how precious or valuable I was when I started in ballet. Instead, I only saw that I was clearly not cut from the same cloth as elegant princesses and swans whose dancing I admired. The chance to don yellowface in the Chinese variation during "The Nutcracker," or to be a kowtowing, shuffling child in "The King and I" in the school play felt like places I was welcome to exist—to shine—as a child who dreamed of being onstage.
By Gabrielle Nomura Gainor
Gabrielle Kazuko Nomura Gainor (she/her) is an artist, writer, and Asian American community activist. In addition to working in communications/public engagement at Seattle Opera, she's received grants from Seattle's Office of Arts & Culture and the Washington State Arts Commission. In 2021, Gabrielle has been proud to serve as a mentor and Teaching Artist with TeenTix.
Counterclockwise from top left: Gabrielle Nomura Gainor, surrounded by Dominique See, Alyssa Fung, Siena Dumas, and Hailey Burt in Farewell Shikata ga nai; Joseph Lambert photo. Christopher Montoya en pointe. Vivian Little smiles. Robert Moore jumps; Tracey Wong photo.
May was both Mental Health Awareness Month and Asian Pacific Islander Heritage Month. But as we move into summer, remember that our wellbeing as dancers of color is something to prioritize all year round.
As a chunky Asian baby in a leotard, I had no idea yet how precious or valuable I was when I started in ballet. Instead, I only saw that I was clearly not cut from the same cloth as elegant princesses and swans whose dancing I admired. The chance to don yellowface in the Chinese variation during "The Nutcracker," or to be a kowtowing, shuffling child in "The King and I" in the school play felt like places I was welcome to exist—to shine—as a child who dreamed of being onstage.
Many years later, I see that I deserved so much more than to beg for scraps in the form of sidekicks and ethnic stereotypes. Black, Indigenous, and all People of Color deserve so much more. We need not silence the parts of us that are “too much” for white norms, be it too ethnic, too dark, too curvy, too loud. White people do not own dance—not even ballet. As former Dance Theater of Harlem ballerina Theresa Ruth Howard taught me, these precious art forms belong to all of us, as well.
Now, at the end of Mental Health Awareness Month and Asian Pacific Islander Heritage Month, remember that prioritizing our mental health—our wholeness, joy, and humanity are year-round activities. Every month is for our “history” or our “heritage.” With that in mind, I bring you five personal reflections on what it means to care for ourselves mentally and emotionally as People of Color in dance. Hear from Christopher Montoya (formerly of Ballet Trockadero, Dance Fremont Managing Director), Dr. Sue Ann Huang (co-director of The Tint Dance Festival), Alicia Allen (former dancer with Janet Jackson, Mary J. Blige, and Shakira to name a few), Robert Moore (formerly of Spectrum Dance Theater), and Vivian Little (retired ballerina and Dance Fremont founder).
Photo courtesy of Christopher Montoya
Find an environment where you can thrive
For Christopher Montoya (he/they), not having the right body type was a stressor that only compounded on top of being brown, gay, and working-class. Eventually, Montoya discovered their truth as being gender-non-conforming, and would often feel pressure to pass as straight in order to be hired for dance jobs. Finding an encouraging ballet teacher who embraced Montoya’s authentic self, and then discovering a community in Ballet Trockadero were defining moments.
“Going into Trockadero is really where I found myself,” Montoya said. “The dancers were Australian, Venezuelan, Spanish, Mexican, Black, Asian. We all felt like misfits because we didn’t fit into this binary mold of ballet. Trying to pass as a straight man always felt so fake and defeating. But here, I got to be me.”
From Montoya’s experience, taking time to situate oneself in a supportive dance environment is crucial. (For some, this could mean choosing a Black-led dance school or a class taught by a teacher of color). If the environment is unsupportive, it could be time to leave or look elsewhere.
Sue Ann Huang and Arlene Martin. Joseph Lambert photo
Divest from that which does not serve you
Dr. Sue Ann Huang (she/her) not only co-founded an event centering BIPOC, Tint Dance Festival, her dissertation focused on choreographers of color in the Pacific Northwest. Most recently, she’s been thinking deeply about what liberation is possible through concert dance, which still possesses an intimate, even symbiotic relationship, with white supremacy.
While white supremacy once referred to overt hate as seen through groups such as the KKK, white supremacy today refers to an ideology that acts in both overt and subtle or unspoken ways. In western society, for example, white culture, white norms, and white people are valued more highly, and above other cultures. A cursory glance at the majority of ballet and modern dance companies show this favoring of whiteness, as seen through artistic leaders, company rosters, and choreographers whose work is presented.
In Huang’s view, dancers of color must strive to create space between what’s true and what’s cultural default. Today she does this by resisting the pressure to see certain “it” choreographers or companies, and instead asks herself what will bring joy.
“What kind of dance do I visually want to see? What kind of movement do I want to do? I am mostly only seeing shows produced by People of Color I care about, and that’s OK.”
Alicia Allen, photo courtesy of the artist
Hold them accountable
As a Black woman in a predominantly white dance department, Alicia Allen (she/her) felt invisible. From the professor who asked if she was in the right place, to the bathrooms littered with posters of white dancers, and how-to instructions for the perfect ballet bun, the message was subtle, but loud:
“My Blackness and street styles did not ‘make’ the walls.”
It wasn’t until Allen connected with other students who had experienced similar events that she gained the courage to fight. During her senior year, the majority of her efforts were focused on holding her dance department accountable. She served on committees, planned town-hall events, and lobbied to get a racist class canceled. And she’d do it again in a heartbeat.
“Don’t be afraid to speak your truth and share your experiences. You should always hold your teachers and professors accountable for your education. Hold them accountable for respecting dance cultures and communities.”
When Allen teaches hip-hop today, she never skips over the fact that this dance style was birthed from the joy and pain of Black people. Instead, she encourages her students to face their own discomfort as they reckon with history—a necessary part of respecting where the art comes from.
Roberty Moore jumps; Tracey Wong photo
Reorient your organization toward justice
In the past, Robert Moore (he/they) has seen dance organizations think that anti-Blackness, the increase in Asian American attacks, or what it means to live on occupied Coast Salish land, are not relevant to ballet or modern dance. But Moore does not stop being Black when he comes into the studio.
“What puts a nice little grin on my face is seeing organizations step up for the first time, seeing them stumbling over themselves, and actually learn something from pulling some weight, rather than just being passive,” he said.
Moore has found rest this past year by being in community with other Black artists: getting to discuss life—including topics that have nothing to do with race—has brought them joy.
Remember, Moore said, People of Color do not owe anyone a conversation or explanation about race, ever: “Honor the quiet revolution of a dancer of color just going to class, rehearsing, and taking moments to exist freely.”
Re-think ballet and dance education
Vivian Little (she/her) never connected race to body type when she was dancing with Pacific Northwest Ballet and San Francisco Ballet in the 1980s. Years later, she was teaching at a university and her colleagues of color recounted the discrimination that they had faced. Only then was she able to connect the dots between racism and the “defectiveness” of certain bodies. Through this lens, the concerns of her colleagues made sense: a Filipina whose short legs prevented her from earning short-tutu roles, a Columbian danseur with who never had the right “look” for a prince. Being of Irish and Japanese ancestry, Little thought about how she herself was often cast as the sensual or Latina role because of her “exotic look.”
Today, Little pushes back on the uniformity and preferred Eurocentric ballet aesthetics. One way to do this has been learning more about the human body and movement mechanics related to ballet technique. Little sees the potential in every student, whether their first position is a delicious little slice, or a whole half, of pie; whether their leg reaches up toward the heavens in arabesque, or points down toward the earth; whether they look like generations of European ballerinas, or they are helping to illuminate the multifaceted, multicultural beauty alive in ballet.
“Ballet teachers must teach to the person, not to an ideal,” Little said. “It takes much more thought, care and intentionality to be inclusive because of the waters of white supremacy we've been swimming in and the air of racism we've breathed for centuries.”
Photo courtesy of Vivian Little
Resources
Additionally, please check out the work of the following Seattle-based artists: Alicia Mulikin, Dani Tirell, Noelle Price, Randy Ford, Imana Gunawan, Cheryl Delostrinos, Amanda Morgan, Sarah-Gabrielle Ryan, Donald Byrd/Spectrum Dance Theater, among many, many others.
Living Your Best Life at Dance Conservatory Seattle
Whether its codified technique, body expectations, or gendered stereotypes, the dance industry has disseminated rigid values for many years. Such expectations can limit and harm talented dancers who don’t fit such cookie-cutter molds. Joshua Grant and Christopher E. Montoya are striving to knock down these barriers and foster a supportive and all-inclusive dance environment at Dance Conservatory Seattle. Under the tutelage of local talent, DCS is teaching Seattle dancers how to “live [their] best li[ves].”
A Conversation About Inclusivity with Co-Artistic Director Joshua Grant
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Photo by Marcia Davis and Angela Sterling
Whether its codified technique, body expectations, or gendered stereotypes, the dance industry has disseminated rigid values for many years. Such expectations can limit and harm talented dancers who don’t fit such cookie-cutter molds. Joshua Grant and Christopher E. Montoya are striving to knock down these barriers and foster a supportive and all-inclusive dance environment at Dance Conservatory Seattle. Under the tutelage of local talent, DCS is teaching Seattle dancers how to “live [their] best li[ves].”
Growing up in a military family, Josh spent much of his childhood moving to different states. His dance journey first began at age three in Alabama and he later trained in South Carolina and California. Eventually, Josh’s family landed in the panhandle of Florida where he received the bulk of his dance training at Northwest Florida Ballet. He also trained at The HARID Conservatory in Boca Raton, Florida before graduating high school and moving to Seattle to train at the Pacific Northwest Ballet School. After one year in the Professional Division, Josh was offered a job with PNB, dancing professionally with the company for about four years. He later decided to spend some time traveling, relocating to Toronto to dance with the National Ballet of Canada for a while.
Desiring to explore a different form of dance, Josh joined Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, an all-male comic ballet company that tours globally performing parodies of classical ballets. Josh toured the world with the company, traveling to Japan, Russia, Greece, France, Australia, and more, performing in male and female roles and dancing en pointe. He later returned to PNB where he dances today as a soloist.
Chris’ dance journey took a much different form than Josh’s. Chris studied at the University of Arizona before entering the professional world, dancing with companies like David Taylor Dance Theatre, Scorpius Dance Theatre, and Center Dance Ensemble, before joining Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo where he and Josh met. Josh points out how amazing it was that he and Chris were both able to find a home at Trockadero given they’re quite different dancers, both physically and emotionally.
When Josh and Chris relocated to Seattle together, Chris completed his undergraduate degree at Cornish College of the Arts and got his MFA at the University of Washington. He worked as the ballet division head and later the school director of Spectrum Dance Theater and has taught open classes and worked as the managing director for Dance Fremont. Aside from teaching, Chris has also danced with local companies like Seattle Dance Project, Men in Dance, and Jeroba Dance.
At the start of the pandemic, when the dance scene across Seattle shut down, Josh describes feeling quickly depressed and bored. Like most all people across the city, Josh recalls spending many days walking around his house wondering what to do. After some time, Sierra Keith reached out to Chris, sharing that she was considering renting a studio space and wanted to know if he was interested in teaching private lessons to some adults she knew. While Chris was busy with other work at the time, he and Sierra passed the message along to Josh who agreed to teach, holding a class of about ten people that eventually became a class of one to two as the pandemic worsened.
Eventually, the classes cultivated some buzz, as local dancers began to compete to get one of the few spots available. Having dreamt about opening their own dance school for a long time, Josh and Chris thought that this might be the opportunity to bring their dream to fruition.
Josh and Chris have both experienced struggles in the dance world throughout their careers, particularly with ballet. “We understand nobody fits into that perfect mold,” Josh points out. “And so we try to approach education and dance from that lens…perfection is unattainable.”
Chris specifically grappled with the challenges of fulfilling a rigid traditionally “masculine” role in the ballet world, as well standing out as a 5’2” Hispanic man in a predominantly white, Eurocentric realm. He also struggled with eating disorders as a way to combat weight loss to fit the mold he thought he needed to.
Growing up, Josh not only faced challenges as a gay person living in the South, but recalls training under toxic teachers who would often make hurtful remarks, and even throw things at him when he would make a mistake. “I was told I wouldn’t have a career. I was told I was a terrible dancer,” Josh remembers. “I was told that I was ‘too flowery.’ I was told that I needed to be more masculine.” For a while, he carried strict teaching traditions into the classes he taught, before Chris later pointed out that it wasn’t exactly helpful. Josh looks back on his training and wishes that his teachers could have helped him become the dancer and person he was supposed to be, instead of trying to make him become something he wasn’t.
Drawing from Chris’ graduate school research and he and Josh’s experience dancing with Trockadero, the two had also become interested in why the pointe shoe was genderized in ballet. Why is it that every time a pointe shoe is put on a man, it’s for slapstick or comedy? Such thoughts are what helped spur the creation of Dance Conservatory Seattle.
Dance Conservatory Seattle strives to knock down societal barriers by working to “encourage and empower” students “to explore their individual bodies and find their unique expressive voices.” A large emphasis is placed on welcoming dancers of all backgrounds and identities to present and perform how they desire to, particularly when it comes to defying gender stereotypes. Local performers like non-binary PNB Apprentice Ashton Edwards has credited DCS, and Josh specifically, for helping them grow more and more into themself as a performer.
Photo by Marcia Davis and Angela Sterling
Josh says that DCS aims to teach people based on who they are and not who anyone else thinks they should be. While dance nearly always has a fairly rigid means of measuring technique, DCS approaches technical skills with a more open-minded outlook. Josh shares that there’s a way to provide dancers with corrections and feedback in a way that isn’t aggressive and hurtful, but that allows a person to grow. “I think that’s where we’re going to get the best dancers of the next generation,” Josh shares of this approach to teaching.
At the moment, Dance Conservatory Seattle is chiefly concerned with getting more attendees in its classes, particularly its intermediate and advanced classes for middle and high school-aged students. DCS is also holding summer camps for ages 5 through 18. Eventually, Josh hopes for Dance Conservatory Seattle to have its own unique production of The Nutcracker, featuring a balanced representation of Seattle artists and featuring roles that defy traditional gender stereotypes. “Everything that DCS represents would be in our Nutcracker,” Josh shares. DCS’ 2700 square foot studio space is also available to rent and can transform into a performance space, where its future productions will likely be held.
Moving forward, Dance Conservatory Seattle strives to continue encouraging local dancers to live their best lives by acting fearlessly and being the kind of representation dancers across the region need. “Dance is an art form and the best way to get the truest and most successful art out of somebody is to allow them to be themself,” Josh says.
A Local Dancer on Utilizing a Home Studio Space
During the COVID-19 lockdown of 2020, many dancers lost the space and opportunity to do what they loved. Confined in their homes, dancers no longer had the capacity to move their bodies in the way they once could. It’s safe to say that for most of us, it felt like a return to “normal” would never come. This was one of the fears of dancer Erin Nichole Boyt, as she had just started getting acclimated to the Portland dance scene after relocating from Seattle. Now with the help of her new home studio space, Erin has been excited about reconnecting with dance in a more seamless way. Donate to Erin’s fundraising campaign for her live/work studio, known as Pottershop Studio, so it can be well-supplied and ready for dancers.
Erin Nichole Boyt on Blending Dance & Home
By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor
Photo by Mary Turcott
During the COVID-19 lockdown of 2020, many dancers lost the space and opportunity to do what they loved. Confined in their homes, dancers no longer had the capacity to move their bodies in the way they once could. It’s safe to say that for most of us, it felt like a return to “normal” would never come. This was one of the fears of dancer Erin Nichole Boyt, as she had just started getting acclimated to the Portland dance scene after relocating from Seattle. Now with the help of her new home studio space, Erin has been excited about reconnecting with dance in a more seamless way. Donate to Erin’s fundraising campaign for her live/work studio, known as Pottershop Studio, so it can be well-supplied and ready for dancers.
Erin began dancing around five years old at the only dance studio in her small town. She fell in love with movement early on in her life, explaining that she is a “kinesthetic learner” and takes in information best when it involves movement and tactile experiences. Erin explains that she deeply resonated with modern, tap, and African styles of dance, forms of movement that felt rhythmic and grounded. While she studied dance in college, Erin explains that she struggled within her school’s dance department, as it valued students with a strong ballet background which is something Erin lacked. She pivoted her focus to theatre, cultivating her love for dance in another arena.
After graduating college, Erin moved to Seattle and started her dance company “with no previous experience choreographing.” She explains that her practice started small, and eventually lead to her choreographing more and producing bigger shows, working with the Seattle International Dance Festival for nearly a decade. “I built my company around the idea of collaboration,” Erin explains. She moved to Portland, Oregon in 2018 and had just started rehearsing her first show in the city when the pandemic hit.
“I nosedived emotionally and mentally into this pretty deep depression,” Erin says of her mental health amid the COVID-19 pandemic. “There were days where I truly believed that I would never dance again and this [was] just my life now.” These emotions of sadness, grief, and longing are ones many dancers can relate to in the past couple of years.
Photo by Tom Healy
Nonetheless, as Erin mentions, dance has a way of sticking with people in ways they may not expect. “There’s something in a creative drive that just doesn’t ever really die,” she emphasizes.
Erin had dreamed about having a live-work space in the future, but wasn’t looking for one when she stumbled upon her current dwelling. Prior to moving into the live-work studio space, Erin had been renting a studio once a week, but the thought of having studio space available to her all hours of the day was simply too good to be true. In addition to choreographing and teaching out of the space, she’s planning on working with clients on strength training, injury prevention, and exercises to aid with different forms of movement dysfunction.
Erin has enjoyed being able to decorate and furnish her studio space in a way that inspires her creatively. Down the line, getting back into choreographing and producing shows is a goal of hers and her new space will enable her to do that with greater ease.
Erin says that one of the things she loves most about dance is the fact that she never gets bored of it, there is seemingly always something new to learn through movement. She is fascinated by the ways sensory inputs from the environment influence the way people move and the shared understanding of movement that all humans possess. “It’s something that just connects all of us universally,” she says. Now that dance is more integrated into her life by way of her live-work studio space, Erin is able to feel even more deeply connected to this practice that means so much to her.
Photo by Brett Love
A change that Erin hopes to see occur in the dance industry is a greater interrogation of the so-called “ideal” body a dancer should have. She shares that many dance genres value a specific, restrictive aesthetic that can be harmful for dancers. Being told that there is a certain way to look can create a disconnection between dancers and their bodies. Dancers’ bodies should be used to help realize their artistic visions, not be scrutinized. Rather than focusing on how dancers’ bodies should look, Erin hopes for dance to be viewed more as an expression and mode to communicate with one another. “I think we just really need to broaden our view of what dance is,” Erin shares.
“If you have a body you’re a dancer!” Erin declares. Click here to donate to Pottershop Studio!
Interested in writing for the DWC Blog? Click below to fill out the DWC Contributor application!