A Moving Journey

"Keep building a narrative for yourself," Cynthia Thompson urges her dance students as they build lyrical movements to percussion rhythms. The stage, suddenly awash in a kaleidoscope of deep turquoise and magenta hues, springs to life as bright, white light illuminates each face.

Twelve performers effortlessly transform into character. They know these rhythms as well as they know the rhythms of their own hearts, which strike a powerful similarity to the strong, staccato drumbeats guiding their steps.

Focused as young girls, two dancers stage a play fight and giggle as they sweep across the stage in each other's arms. Another couple, a husband and wife, stands motionless, with eyes downcast. His gaze wills away the burden of his wife's anger as she shakes, weeping in his grasp. Suddenly she breaks free, bursting into motion. Her rage comes to life, as underneath the brightly colored garments she tirelessly cuts her arms through the air as she searches for an escape from the grief.

As the story continues, Thompson's dancers enter and exit the stage with fluid grace, each time portraying a different character with fresh exuberance or sorrow. Aside from their individual experiences, these characters hold a common thread: They are all immigrants and refugees. While they were initially displaced in American culture, they all have the same determination to build a new life in the Harrisonburg community. Some came for love, some ran from persecution, but each began the journey to pursue the promise of a better life.

A separate journey evolved for the 12 JMU dance majors who auditioned and won roles in this performance. Their journey reaffirmed life and showcased the strengths of diversity in this community.

A unique opportunity arose when the JMU dance program received a $10,000 grant from Dance/USA - the national service organization for nonprofit professional dance - and the National Endowment for the Arts. Only one institution of higher learning in each of the 50 states and Washington, D.C., receives this honor each year.

Thompson drafted the grant around project requirements that called for community involvement in post-performance discussions. "The dance faculty decided to go one step further and make this community the actual content of the project," recalls Thompson. She and the dance faculty enlisted guest choreographer Mark Taylor, whose work in contemporary dance has earned him international recognition, for the project.

Taylor, artistic director of Dance Alloy in Pittsburgh, boasts an extensive list of achievements in the performing arts. He served as a member of Princeton University's dance faculty for several years. He was also a choreographer and teacher at the Bates Dance Festival, the American Dance Festival and two international festivals in Estonia and Bulgaria.
"We knew that we wanted to work with an artist who would help us design a project that would be community oriented. Mark has vast experience in this, plus he has done intercultural collaborations, so he was the perfect artist to guide us through this process," Thompson says.

Taylor's previous experience with Thompson and JMU dance students and faculty members brought a comfortable air of familiarity to the production. "Our first association with him was back in 1990. We brought him and his New York company to perform and teach at the American College Dance Festival we hosted that year. Since then many JMU dancers and faculty members have attended the Dance Alloy summer workshops in Pittsburgh."

For this spring's performance, titled In This Valley, one of the dancers' initial tasks was to interview more than 20 Harrisonburg immigrants from countries including Mexico, Iraq, Senegal, Vietnam and Russia. "Every person is like a treasure box," says senior Ryan Chrisman, one of the giggling play fighters. "They're so eager to tell their stories."

Taylor, working alongside guest composer Alice Shields, revealed his goal to transcribe the individual characteristics of an interviewee into artistic expression for the stage. "There's an emphasis on recording gestures and postural configuration, for instance, in the way these immigrants speak and articulate with their bodies," says Taylor, whose face revealed his excitement for the project. "We're looking for individual stories to be abstracted into movement."

Guest composer Alice Shields describes her creative process. "I consider above all else the emotional impact of their testimonies and the physicality of their words. These are people rich in their souls."

She named her score Shenandoah, borrowing her signature musical rhythms of India and the Middle East to form a strong percussion line. Creating a mystical sensation, the lingering chords of a lute-like tambura weave through somber and spirited tempos. Large-frame drums pronounce strong rhythmic beats, coaxing Thompson's dancers into each measure. In excerpts from cut-tape recordings, immigrants describe - in their own words - the fears and heartaches they have faced. At one point, a small boy sings a native lullaby, captivating listeners with his sweet, youthful pitch. As each performer fell easily into the trance-like rhythm, his innocent voice blended with the sounds of plucked strings and rattles in the music.
Shields' goal to provide a true representation of experience remained a constant element during the process. "I ask myself, does the material keep the authenticity of the testimony?"

Senior Pedro Batista also works to keep his choreography an authentic testimony. "You can sense how these people are feeling in their body language, in how they move and react," he says. Batista himself speaks as much with his hands and arms as he does with words. His gentle intensity instantly captures an audience. "The movement often reflects the pride these people show when talking about their homelands."

"See how I'm nervous here, pushed back," he continues, with his arms hugged to his chest in a closed posture. "There's a sense of sharing versus ripping away. There are conflicting emotions, but there's always the hope and support from family that pulls you through."

A strong sense of spirituality also brings a stabilizing force for many of those immigrants who were interviewed. For one Kurdish refugee, spiritual fate offers vital consolation. "I think that - partly as a way to survive - they believe that everything happening to them does because God meant it to happen," says junior Carey Caughlin, searching for just the right words.

Along with family support and spiritual hope, a stoic determination drives the journey forward. "The diagonal formation signifies where we've been and where we're going," Batista explains. Baby carriages, suitcases and bundles of clothing strewn across the stage portray the chaotic experience of picking up a life and putting it down in a foreign land. There's a distinct sense of homelessness in this suspension between two cultures and two worlds.

And suddenly that heavy atmosphere breaks as an upbeat allegro takes the stage. In a playful change, a zesty homage to food claims the spotlight. The dancers throw themselves enthusiastically into character with lips smacking and absorbing the flavors of native fruits and vegetables. Both adults and children alike begin licking the stray juices from their fingers, showing off toothy smiles and bright eyes with laughter bubbling up from deep inside.

In many cultures, food assumes a number of specialized roles. Caughlin describes a few Vietnamese traditions she learned during an interview. "Eating is a very intimate experience. A family shares one plate, and everyone takes a portion. Parents are given the best meat." For many, keeping these practices alive sustains their cultural identity.

From this playful interlude, the dancers break frantically back into a fast-paced diagonal formation, which Batista says "represents the chaotic nature of life." Now they dance an internal struggle between body and spirit. Batista whips quickly through an eight-count measure, lunging toward the audience, arms spread in an open invitation - or maybe a desperate plea - for new opportunity. His body swings as if he is teetering on the edge. One step too far and he will lose his balance for good. But he doesn't fall. "We show the tragedy of how life treats us, but also how people come out of these experiences stronger and more powerful," he explains.

"Taylor uses music to 'really tell the story,'" continues Batista, who plans to audition for Taylor's Pittsburgh company, Dance Alloy, after he graduates in 2003. It's a story these 12 students treasure and admire, and a journey they won't soon forget. "I thought Mark did an incredible job with integrating the students into the process. They were invested in this project from day one," says Thompson.

Caughlin, who interviewed the Kurdish refugee, found herself awestruck at the power of human strength through adversity. "They are reaffirming of the human race and what we can go through and still survive," she says, eyes stretched wide as she recalls details of her interview. Her tone reveals a protective admiration for these new people in her life.

For Chrisman, this performance was an extraordinary finish to her four-year dance career at JMU. "It really changes my perspective. It's been a great senior experience - a very unique process." Senior Keira Hart concurs, "It was a life-changing experience. I never thought dance could be bigger than ourselves."

"The dance program has a history of encouraging students to make connections in the community," says Thompson, who with colleague Kate Trammell directs the thomas & trammell dance co. "This project was a natural extension of that commitment."

"In groups and as individuals, we experience the same emotions at different times," says Batista. As a member of the Harrisonburg community since 1992, a native Puerto Rican and a JMU student, he finds himself between both worlds. His goals, though, are universal. "We often journey on the same paths, headed toward the same unity and the same goal in living our lives - to live life to the fullest."

Story by Ashley Day ('02)
Photos by Carlton Wolfe ('02)