BY NIKHITA WINKLER

In the world of dance, where emotions and movements intertwine, one artist stands out: Alhazar, a captivating dancer, teacher, and the visionary founder of Dancer´s Ways, an online dance school. Alhazar is based in Spain but reaches students from all corners of the globe. This interview with Alhazar delves into the pivotal moments of her life, a tale of transformation, empowerment, and embracing the changing realities that shape our lives as dancers.

Note: This interview was first published in Stance on Dance’s fall/winter 2023 print issue. To learn more, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

Photo by The Factory Fotografia

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What inspired you to pursue a career in dance?

I was a young girl when I came across an advertisement in a newspaper for a belly dance studio. It caught my attention so much that I went to the studio on the same day. As I approached the door, it suddenly swung open. It seemed like a class had just ended, and the room was filled with laughing and talking women. The energy was so intense that it scared and embarrassed me. I ran away, suddenly overwhelmed by an irrational fear of going in. I felt that this would be a profound experience, and the beautiful path my intuition showed me scared me. Doubts invaded, along with the insecurities of being a teenage girl with chubby legs and a belly. I thought I wouldn’t be good at moving like that and that I needed a flat stomach. How wrong I was. It was a friend, now my partner and the father of my daughter, who said to me, “What do you have to lose by trying? If you’re not good at it, you can quit. If you never try, you’ll never know.” Filled with courage, I returned the next day and joined a class. Beatriz, the teacher, spoke to us about Egypt and how ancient this dance was. It felt like all the women from the past were dancing through me. It was an ancestral magic, as if I had been dancing this dance my whole life; my body felt elated to discover these undulating and fluid movements, as if it had been waiting for them. From that day on, I couldn’t stop learning more.

Throughout your career, have you faced any setbacks that you initially perceived as negative but ultimately turned out to be valuable learning experiences?

Let me tell you a story from many years ago, from when I started dancing as a very young dancer. I had recently begun dancing tribal fusion. I worked hard on my technique, studied intensely, and thought my technique was very good. And yes, it was good, but I had much more to do on all levels. I went to a casting for Bellydance Superstars with some friends and fellow dancers. I had just started with tribal fusion, but I believed I had a chance. My technique was good, though with room for improvement, but I could be…! What if they picked me? I thought about it so much that I started to believe it. Jillina was the one conducting the casting. We all started dancing, and… surprise! Jillina didn’t even look at me! It was as if I were invisible, and I kept thinking, “Why is she not looking at me? I’m doing it well, right?” I didn’t even pass the first round. Her gaze didn’t even graze over me… was I invisible? I hadn’t done that badly… how naive I was! That day, I learned a lot. Much more important than having good technique, if you don’t have stage presence, you go unnoticed. That day, I started working on my stage presence. The following year, while dancing in a class with Rachel Brice, with over 70 students, my first class with her, she approached me and whispered in my ear, “Good job.” And I understood I was on the right track. In fact, years later, once I was fully prepared as a dancer in every aspect, incredible things started happening, and I had the opportunity to dance alongside amazing dancers and my idols. I am grateful for that failure from my past because it taught me a great lesson.

Motherhood is a significant aspect of your life. How has motherhood influenced your journey as a dancer, and how do you balance both roles?

I’ve always been a ‘sexy boom’ woman. When I was young, walking into a bar would catch everyone’s attention. I had a special allure, not fitting the typical magazine or movie stereotype. There was something about me that attracted people, though I couldn’t quite grasp it back then. Now, in my adulthood, I can link that attraction to my sense of feeling good about myself. Feeling good and secure in my own skin, seeing myself as beautiful with all my imperfections and virtues — I felt gorgeous, and I took care of myself. Feeling good about yourself is so important, and I was fortunate to experience it early in my life. Dance gave me even more wisdom, self-esteem, and humility to be who I am — beautiful and loving.

Photo by Alba Rodriguez

However, there came a moment when a great friend and mentor said to me, “In your dance, you rely too much on your natural sex appeal. There will come a time when this resource won’t serve you, and if you don’t enrich it your dance will lose its purity, originality, and interest.” I deeply reflected on this advice. My mentor was right; I needed to enrich my dance, my body, my experiences, and my emotions. I had to evolve beyond being just that sexy girl. And you know what has been my most significant experience? I became a mother.

My body changed, marked with scars and stretch marks. I was not in top physical shape for a long time. I thought these changes would profoundly affect my life, but you know what surprised me the most? They didn’t. I began to see my students in myself. All those who were mothers or felt their bodies were not ideal. Those who looked at their flaws when starting dance classes. I remembered all their processes of learning to see themselves as beautiful. When I looked in the mirror, my post-pregnancy belly’s skin was different, the muscles softer, my hips broader, and my breasts, altered by breastfeeding, were no longer perfect. But looking at them, a bit saggy, I saw them as more beautiful than ever because they had nourished my daughter with love during breastfeeding. They were beautiful. My belly, with the skin’s marks after pregnancy, was beautiful, is beautiful — more beautiful than ever. I see myself as beautiful, sexy, mature, and confident. The woman’s body is beautiful in all its stages. After physically recovering from childbirth, which took a little time, I was able to resume my life as a dancer and teacher.

However, I must say it was thanks to having the support of my daughter’s father and my family, who waited with the baby backstage while I performed on stage. I’m also grateful that my dance embraces all aspects of being a woman. I could teach while baby wearing when necessary, and always with my baby close by. I could maintain my work and breastfeeding in perfect harmony. But, of course, no one can take away the sleepless nights. Now, as my daughter is a bit older, she sometimes joins my classes as a student. When she feels like it, she dances and stretches, and when she wants to, she sits, watches, or draws. And in my performances, she’s my number one fan.

How did the pandemic affect your Dancer´s Ways online dance school and retreats, and how did you navigate through those difficult times?

I have seen many women who were lost, unsure of what to do in life, or what their purpose or desires were. I helped them navigate through that phase and reconnect with their soul’s desires. But I had never experienced it myself. The pandemic forced us to take an uncertain pause in our lives. It made me stop dancing, stop giving in-person classes every day, stop performing in theaters, and put a halt to retreats for people from around the world. Fortunately, I experienced it in my home, secluded from the chaos, in the mountains.

However, I felt the impact of being forced to stop what I had been doing for so many years. The life I had been leading until then was no longer sustainable. At first, it felt like a significant shock. Then, I realized it was in alignment with my life because the family life I loved demanded more free afternoons to share beautiful moments with my daughter once she started school. Working outside the house every afternoon wouldn’t have been possible. Everything was actually falling into place. I just had to leave behind a routine that I had been following for many years, and a new life awaited me behind a door I hadn’t yet opened.

This uncertainty lasted for two years, filled with vital changes for me. Grieving the end of several stages, both professional and personal, takes time. Even if you understand mentally that everything is in order and that it’s the natural flow of life, it takes time for your body to assimilate it and for you to truly say it’s over. I needed to reconnect with my new body, now less fit due to not dancing as much every day. I needed to rediscover the pleasure of training and dancing for my health and well-being. I needed to find myself in a new environment, full of noise, people, stress, and far from nature, which is what living in a city entails. I found myself again through dance. All the work I’ve been doing for so many years provided me with the necessary tools to navigate and embrace life as it comes.

They say that when one door closes, another one opens. And it’s so true. Doing it through dance made the process beautiful, sweet, and perhaps bittersweet, loving and conscious, and fun at the same time as it was effective. Dance always makes everything easier. Through dance, we can navigate through difficult moments. It takes us out of our confused minds and brings us back to the present, to our bodies, to our essence. And from the present, it’s much easier to close and open chapters. For me, the pandemic chapter has ended. The online school has been reborn, and the retreats are back on track.

Photo by Nei Mad Photography

You are 40 years old and still creating and performing. Sometimes, age can be seen as a barrier in the dance industry. Have you faced challenges related to age?

The type of dance I do has no age limit, so I consider myself fortunate in that regard. One of my mentors is still teaching and performing at 60. However, it is true that in certain circles, age is not always viewed favorably. The idea that one must be young to dance is not an isolated case. In our society, being young is a patriarchal mandate deeply ingrained in everyone’s minds. Women over 40 seem to become invisible, as if they no longer matter. However, they only lose significance if they want to adhere to industries governed by the patriarchy. If you want to dance to please what is deemed masculine, you must be young and conform to imposed standards. I have never engaged in the game of industries and competitions. My dance has always aimed to go beyond the superficial, to convey something meaningful, to open hearts, and to make those who watch and those who dance feel something.

It is true that as you age, you may not be able to perform as many physical feats unless you maintain a strict training regimen. But as the years pass, you realize that these feats are not as important as you once thought. Your presence, your essence, and the story you tell take center stage. The significance lies not in what you do but in how you do it, and with maturity, you gain tremendously in this aspect. So, how have I dealt with these challenges? I refuse to believe in these imposed mandates. I listen to my body, the only one that will tell me when and if I ever need to stop in my life.

I also want to add that my students have always been my inspiration, especially the older ones. I have had many older students, and they are the most grateful because dance brings tremendous benefits to their lives. They feel younger, more agile, but most importantly, when a new student comes in thinking they are too old, they finish the course having reconnected with their younger self.

Being old is something you feel, just as being young is. Of course, our bodies age, but dance gives us youth and spirit. Many times, it’s incredible how older students seem younger than the young ones because they have the wisdom of knowing how to truly live.

Photo courtesy Dancer’s Ways

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Explore more of Alhazar´s therapeutic work with women at Dancer´s Ways. Visit dancersways.com.

Nikhita Winkler is an African contemporary dancer, choreographer, and dance teacher from Namibia who currently resides in Spain.

The post Dancing Amidst Changing Realities appeared first on Stance on Dance.

I love interviewing dance artists. It allows me to speak with someone I normally wouldn’t and ask them directly about their inspirations, perspectives, and goals. I’ve been doing interviews for more than a decade, and I’ve come to love platforming artists.

When putting together this issue of Stance on Dance, I was tickled when several writers pitched interviews, profiles, and conversations with artists they admire. When I recruit contributors for each issue, I essentially give them carte blanche, asking them to write about their own work, a phenomenon in the field, or another artist they are interested in. While there is immense value in all the above, I like when contributors opt to cover other artists because it gives readers a glimpse into the minds of both the writer and their subject. It’s two for the price of one.

I’m also delighted about the various genres included in this issue: swing, body music, vogue, physical theater, flamenco, bharatanatyam, contemporary, belly dance, ballet, pole, and somatics. I’m proud to see Stance on Dance covering so many facets of the dance ecosystem.

This issue includes Bonnie Eissner’s interview with Caleb Teicher of Sw!ng Out, Ana Vrbaški’s essay on the New Balkan Rhythm Festival in Serbia, my interview with vogue and physical theater artist Willyum LaBeija, Shebana Coelho’s meditation on connecting dance with Urdu poetry, my interview with Leslie Streit and Robin McCain about the historical significance of the Harkness Ballet, Jill Randall’s conversation with Darrell Jones about endurance, longevity, and rest, Nikhita Winkler’s interview with tribal fusion dancer Alhazar, Julianna Massa’s profile of her pole dance teacher Irlanda, and my interview with fat somatic practitioner Jules Pashall. Magical realist illustrations are by Liz Brent-Maldonado.

As always, copies of Stance on Dance’s print publication are donated to college dance programs and other dance learning spaces around the US. To date, Stance on Dance has partnered with faculty at 25 programs to help ignite interest in the possibilities of dance journalism. And even though I’ve been running Stance on Dance for more than a decade, my own understanding of the possibilities of dance journalism is always being augmented too!

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To learn more or get your print copy, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

Cover art by Liz Brent-Maldonado

The post Expanding the Possibilities of Dance Journalism appeared first on Stance on Dance.

BY NIKHITA WINKLER

Photos by Igor @munimum_art for the project DECOLONYCITIES WINDHOEK-HAMBURG 

Note: This essay was first published in Stance on Dance’s fall/winter 2022 print issue. To learn more, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

Namibia, formerly known as German South West Africa, was a German colony from 1884 to 1919, and thereafter was under South African control until her independence in 1990. Vetunjona Uarije, who goes by the name West, was born into a Himba and Herero family in 1986 before Namibia’s independence. Himba and Herero are Indigenous tribes of Namibia. He was named after “one of the most effective genocides in history¹,” when German soldiers fought against Namibia’s Herero and Namaqua pastoral communities, almost wiping out their entire populations in 1904. When I asked West what his name means he was unable to provide a translation in English but said, “Vetunjona is a name that reflects on the past and what we lost during the genocide.”

West was born and raised in the northwest of Namibia in a town called Opuwo, to which his family fled during the genocide from central Namibia. He was the last child to be raised by his aunt and his grandmother, whom he called his only mother. His favorite memories are with his grandmother, dancing for her around the fire. During our conversation, West recalls the unforgettable nights that shaped his love for dance, “I was the only artist for my grandmother, and every night I would dance around the fire for her. Sometimes she will be sad and I was the only person bringing happiness to her face. After she tells us stories, I will dance for her. There was no music, so she would chant and I would dance.”

In 1995, West was only nine years old when he first quit school to ride horses and donkeys. This was where he preferred to spend his time. He once told his teacher, “Give me a week off school so that I can spend time riding donkeys and horses.” West did not understand the purpose of school. He thought it was a daycare or a house where he was sent to keep him occupied. Therefore, over a few years, he kept dropping in and out of school. You would find him dancing everywhere, at social events and even in local bars in exchange for refreshments. Eventually, he returned to school with the goal to finish high school. In exchange for his school uniform, West danced for store openings and promotions. “Even if I went to school, I could not go where people were not dancing. If I went somewhere, people were dancing,” he says. For this very reason, West was always in trouble for disturbing class while playing musical instruments on his desk. He failed his grade 10, paying too much attention to dance. Instead of returning to school, West started dancing with a local group until he was inspired, through television shows, to expand his repertoire. In 2010, West joined a physical theater company, Ombetja Yehinga Organisation, which was running a youth group in Opuwo. The company toured all around Namibia, performing in schools to create social awareness amongst youth. This was the start of West’s professional career in dance and theater.

West’s success as a renowned Namibian dancer can be attributed to the unique cultural experience he brings wherever he goes. His way of dancing is his way of life, and if we are curious enough to ask questions, we will find many stories in the traditional elements that accompany him during a performance, such as the kudu horn and calabash, which is traditionally used for the consumption of milk. The kudu horn is used in traditional healing, blown into the back of the head of one who is depressed in order to awaken the senses. It is also used to alert societies to potential danger and to call cattle. West tells the story behind his calabash which he transformed into a shaker: If a child throws a stone at someone and hurts that person, causing an open wound, traditionally the consequence of such an action would be paid in the form of a cow. However, children do not own cows, so the child would collect certain types of stones, and instead, give them to the victim as an apology. Thus, there are stones that carry the meaning of the cow for children. These are the stones that West puts into his calabash with the intention to protect his cattle: “Before shaking my calabash, I need to call my cattle, which means I need to blow my kudu horn.” Another element is the oryx horn, but it carries much more honor and respect, and therefore is mainly used by the elders.

Since 2017, I have had several opportunities to work and perform with West. He has been my dance partner, my colleague, my student, and my teacher. Last year, in 2021, I was contracted for a performance in Namibia, but I was not in the country. The solution was not to say no to the opportunity but instead to bring something innovative to the stage. I created a solo dance video with a black background that was projected and asked West to join me in this hybrid performance with his physical presence. He entered the room from within the audience, chanting, and when he arrived on the stage, he blew his kudu horn and shook his calabash to open the space for my dance. It was a powerful hybrid performance. The energy of these natural elements traverses boundaries and transforms spaces. Not every performer has the ability to transform spaces. West draws his strength from his roots and carries with him the energy of his grandmother, his cattle, the history of his people, and a strong identity and authenticity that makes him stand out.

The treasure in his art lies perhaps within the secrecy of his traditional knowledge. He explains that there is more to the Himba than their famous exotic images. “Everything about us is hidden. Knowledge is hidden. Culture is hidden,” and he adds, “A lot of things I don´t show, I do. A lot of things I don’t tell, I ask.” It is, therefore, by strategically revealing his traditional knowledge that he stands out as an artist not only in Namibia but in the world. Since 2010, West has traveled from Opuwo all around Namibia and to South Africa, Cameroon, and the Netherlands. He has also worked in Germany several times to create and perform works related to the genocide of his ancestors. What West is essentially doing when he travels is teaching his way of life in the same way that the colonizers imposed their way of life. He says, “I choose another way to deliver myself to the people. I do not have tools to use to communicate, except my body,” and his voice, chanting in his native language, Otjiherero. The words that West chants in his performances are to greet the spaces he walks into, to ask for acceptance as he connects to the ground of the ancestors belonging to the land on which he dances, and to introduce those who are performing with him, “whoever accepts me spiritually, must also accept the person I am working with.”

West’s work has been very impactful, especially amongst the Namibian youth in Opuwo and Havana, which is located on the outskirts of Namibia’s capital city, Windhoek. He teaches dance classes to children and hopes to inspire at least one child to follow in his footsteps. He also built his own dance center in Havana to empower his community and provide a more positive experience within a marginalized society. The West Dance Center is a safe space to raise awareness through art education about social issues that children face. At this center, children are provided with mentorship for school and life skills, a space to do homework, and a place to learn the foundations of dance. The West Dance Center also serves the community’s children by distributing donations that come in the form of food and clothes. He says, “Children must never fall and feel left behind because of us adults and the pains that we carry.”

When I asked West what he would have been if he was not a dancer, he confidently replied, “A Sangoma.” A Sangoma is a traditional healer: “It has been recorded before the dawn of time that spiritual leaders and healers were first dancers.” These are the words of Wyoma, a master teacher of African Healing Dance². When West is not dancing, he gets sick. When he is dancing, he is healing. It is no secret that dance is medicine, and for West, dance is the medicine that connects him to his roots to heal a painful past, unify a divided people, and reintegrate a strong cultural identity.

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References:

1. Erichsen, Casper. German-Herero Conflict of 1904–07. Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., https://www.britannica.com/topic/German-Herero-conflict-of-1904-1907.
2. SoundsTrueVideos. Wyoma, African Healing Dance. YouTube, 27 June 2008, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkLoDhSrVKc

Vetunjona (West) Uarije is a cultural practitioner native to Namibia. He expresses himself through dance, music, theater, and photography, as well as works in tourism as a cultural entertainer. West is featured in two award-winning Namibian films, Katutura and Baxu and the Giants, available on Netflix. He has a diploma in performing arts from the College of the Arts in Windhoek, and during his studies, in 2018, West built his own dance school in Windhoek´s informal settlements, The West Dance Center. More of West´s work and contact information is available on his website: www.himbaworld.com.

Nikhita Winkler is an African contemporary dancer, choreographer, and dance teacher from Namibia who currently resides in Spain. She founded the Nikhita Winkler Dance Theatre in Namibia, which closed in 2021 due to the effects of the COVID 19 pandemic. Currently, Nikhita´s work focuses on writing, communication, and public speaking; she is an English teacher and member of a virtual advance public speaking club under Toastmasters International. Nikhita has a passionate interest in African spirituality and Movement Therapy.

Note: This essay was first published in Stance on Dance’s fall/winter 2022 print issue. To learn more, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

The post From the Village to the World and Back appeared first on Stance on Dance.

BY NIKHITA WINKLER

Note: This essay was first published in Stance on Dance’s spring/summer 2022 print issue. To learn more, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

Geometry is embedded in the fabric of life and art. Nature evolves from sacred geometry, supporting growth and maintaining balance in the strongest, most malleable formations. I use the word ‘sacred’ because of the inherent role geometry plays in the design of life; our DNA, energy force, and direction of evolution. It is with this knowledge that dancers can reflect on our own journeys; our phases, strengths, and weaknesses, in light of the geometrical compositions which we are drawn to and through which we create art. Illan Riviére has lived all his life in nature, spending countless hours escaping into, listening, observing, and absorbing nature’s wisdom. He says, “Nature teaches us the major things of the body. I heal through nature. It has been a natural way for me to escape every day without questioning myself or others.”

Dance is Illan’s first language, a way for him to speak out loud and “an excuse to express myself,” as he states it. Born in France, Illan started teaching dance when he was 11 years old. In addition to dance, he creates his own music, jewelry, and paintings. He describes himself as a dreamer, dancer, creator, and artist who expresses through different mediums. In the effort to recognize and communicate his fluid, melting, and continually evolving dance language, Illan created a label for his work so that others can relate. He calls it Neo Fusion: a language that is “open and embraces more than one thing. A melting fusion of mixed influences from situations, emotions, textures, color,” essentially all the experiences that move through Illan’s life and dreams. Neo Fusion is a language Illan is devotedly shaping through his curiosity to dive deeper into ONE movement philosophy that invites others to find their own path in a constantly changing world.

Photo by Neï’Mad Photography

As Illan and I reflect on the interconnectedness of life and geometry, Illan recalls a time when he “was not very calm, and needed sharp, straight, clean, precise, impressive lines” to keep himself aligned and confident in the lifestyle of a young, travelling artist. As he outgrew this phase of his professional life, he “detached from the lines and everything started to melt. Now, I dance through waves versus arrows. Instead of forcefully pointing my arrows in the direction I want to go, which consumes a lot of energy,” Illan trusts that his destiny will naturally unfold, and so the geometry of his dance changes. Geometry in the body and space is essential in the science of dance to understand concepts of weight, time, energy, effort, and direction. I would add that dancers, like geometry, are perfectionists; they try to achieve perfect lines, circles, and curves. Illan’s love for symmetry is expressed through his body art, articulated by tattooed lines and significant shapes from head to toe. His home, which I had the opportunity to visit, is decorated with self-made paintings of circles, and his jewelry is treasure made from another man’s trash. Illan’s love for geometry is a love for illusion and a love for nature. Despite his obsession with lines, Illan understands that “a perfect line is not natural. Nature grows in curves and spirals.”

Other geometrical elements in dance such as space, presence, and the relationship between performer and audience, student and teacher, help us to understand who we are in the moment. Illan’s connection with space is not separate from his body, but an extension thereof. His sensitivity to space is expressed when he confesses, “I tend to dance with my aura.” From a very young age, Illan would meditatively observe elements in his space and in nature until he had embodied their qualities. This deep connection with his surroundings drives his curiosity to explore. As a dance teacher, Illan believes that before anyone can receive new experiences, express themselves, and cross boundaries, they need a safe space in which they feel confident and connected. “As soon as a person feels safe to express, anything can happen.”

Photo by Neï’Mad Photography

Illan continues to challenge his own limitations by being open, curious, and allowing influences to come to him. He also challenges himself by making difficult situations easier through playfulness. “Through playfulness I grow faster.” Illan’s story teaches us that “there is space everywhere, in your mind, your body, your soul.” He uses the image of pushing the membrane and inviting what is outside in. It is exactly how everything in nature grows and expands. As such, Illan encourages us to leave space in every aspect of our lives for mistakes, for misunderstanding, and for change. I remembered the empty bird cages hanging from his roof; their doors were never closed because Illan doesn’t believe in strong conviction or strong influence without space. “As soon as you create space, you can defend what you stand for without anger, and with much more calmness. When you have space, you can understand the opposite thought that is also true for someone else.” Illan’s advice for people who want to break through their comfort zones is simply to “stay in your comfort zone but make it bigger, make it yours. Take a dose of risk, a dose of self-respect, a dose of standing in belief but also trying something new.”

Our conversation concluded with these words: “Think less and trust in the intelligence of the body. Meditate more. You contain a lot. Be more detached from the image of a mover and what you can do with the body and be more present. Less expectation and embrace everything that you already have.” As dancers, we sometimes get lost in the performance of dance when maybe we should be getting lost in the meaning of dance as a language of nature. A language we are communicating with, and that is communicating through us.

Photo by Neï’Mad Photography

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To learn more, visit www.illanriviere.com.

Illan Riviére is an artist, dancer, dance teacher, and movement philosopher. He was born in France in 1993 and currently lives in Spain where he co-owns a creative space called Casa MOGWAÏZ, located in Reus. Illan is defining his years of dance experience and research through his ONE Movement Method that consists of three connected phases: Feel & Follow, Manipulate & Transform, Create & Become. Illan’s work is accessible on his website, illanriviere.com, where he offers online classes, retreats, and keeps an archive of his jewelry and music, which is for sale.

Nikhita Winkler is an African contemporary dancer, choreographer and dance teacher from Namibia who currently resides in Spain. She founded the Nikhita Winkler Dance Theatre in Namibia, which closed in 2021 due to the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic. Currently, Nikhita’s work focuses on writing, communication, and public speaking; she is a member of a virtual, advance public speaking club at Toastmasters International and a speaking coach. As a recognized woman of influence in Namibia, and recipient of a 2019 Confident Woman Award in the Arts, Nikhita’s work is dedicated to the upliftment of youth, women, and children. 

Note: This essay was first published in Stance on Dance’s spring/summer 2022 print issue. To learn more, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

The post Nature’s Language in Movement, BODY, and Life appeared first on Stance on Dance.

This year marks Stance on Dance’s 10th birthday. In honor of the occasion (and a bit of a coincidence as well), I am pleased to announce that Stance on Dance has become a nonprofit and received 501c3 status. Stance on Dance’s nonprofit mission is to educate the dance community and wider audiences about dance from the perspective of underrepresented voices and access points. One way my board and I are fulfilling our mission is by launching a twice-yearly print publication that features and supports more dance writers and thus shares more perspectives. We will also distribute copies to dance educational institutions and to our donors who make this possible.

Allow me to wax philosophic about how Stance on Dance got to this point. I started Stance on Dance as a blog in 2012. As a freelance dancer in the San Francisco Bay Area at the time, I felt frustrated with the ways dance was written about. It was often written about by people without a deep knowledge of the artform, it was often review and preview oriented (and the show is but the tip of the iceberg), and it tended to follow the money and cover major ballet and modern companies while overlooking the varied world of freelance artists who pour their energy (and often their earnings) into making their art exist.

My idea was simple enough: I would publish interviews with fellow dance artists in the San Francisco Bay Area as well as solicit and edit content from colleagues. The blog often had a tone of being “on the ground,” as opposed to the more formal reviews and previews I contributed to various publications around San Francisco. I took pride in it being by and for dance artists. I published content once to twice a week, and it generally consisted of interviews conducted by me, essays by various colleagues, cartoons drawn by my roommate Maggie Stack satirizing the dance world, and music recommendations by my friend Jake Padilla. As time went on, my friend Ryan Kelley wrote drink recommendations to pair with various shows, a calendar listing with a twist.

From the get go, I loved producing content about dance and organizing an editorial calendar. And while the bawdy cartoons and drink recommendations were fun, it was the interviews with various dance artists that gained the most traction. I had an affinity for writing, but I was by no means a trained journalist. I was a dancer. As a result of Stance on Dance’s growth during that first year, I started to look into graduate programs in arts journalism. Around the same time, the cost of living in San Francisco started to skyrocket due to the tech bubble, and I felt trapped as a dancer barely making ends meet. I decided my time in San Francisco had come to a close.

In 2013, I entered a master’s program in Arts Journalism at the University of Southern California on scholarship and, through moving to Los Angeles, Stance on Dance began to cover artists beyond the Bay Area. As I developed a more journalistic tone, the blog became more professional in its coverage, transforming from a site that was mostly circulated amongst colleagues, to an online publication that was beginning to command a serious readership. My master’s thesis was a redevelopment of Stance on Dance with a sleek redesign, a more engaged social media presence, and employment of metrics to track and understand readership.

In 2013, I also began working on what would become the book Beauty is Experience: Dancing 50 and Beyond, where I interviewed more than 50 dance artists over the age of 50 up and down the West Coast. I worked with Portland based photographer Gregory Bartning, who beautifully captured each interviewee. Our goal was to showcase the beauty and form in a dancer of any age, as well as to demonstrate how artistry enrichens with time. The compilation was published as a hardcover book in 2017.

After graduate school, I had the amazing opportunity to travel to South Africa to cover the National Arts Festival for Cue Newspaper, a printed daily arts newspaper that existed for the duration of the festival. Aside from the experience being a cultural whirlwind, I also began to appreciate for the first time how different print is from online content. Instead of an endless vertical scroll, themes could be developed across articles with the aid of good design. The reader’s attention is also different, with more sustained focus, as opposed to distraction after receiving notifications on a device. One day during my time in South Africa, I outlined a plan for a print version of Stance on Dance. Of course, I had graduate school debt, no job, and I didn’t even know where I would live next, but the seed was planted.

Upon returning to the states, I moved to Santa Fe, NM, and took a job as the editor of Fine Lifestyles Santa Fe, a glossy magazine that covered restaurants and shops in town. I didn’t care much for the content, but I relished the experience of working closely with a team of writers, photographers, sales reps, and designers to produce a print magazine. I took careful notes on the process, always having in the back of my mind that one day I might apply these skills to a print version of Stance on Dance.

Throughout grad school, my time in South Africa, and my time in Santa Fe working for the magazine, I continued to produce weekly (and often bi-weekly) content for Stance on Dance. As a result of working on the dancing over 50 book project as well as through my various experiences post graduate school, Stance on Dance increasingly became devoted to elevating the voices of those who are often marginalized in the dance world. These include older dancers, dancers of color, dancers who identify as LGBTQ, dancers who have a disability, fat dancers, dancers who live outside major metropolitan areas, women in leadership positions, dancers working outside well-funded institutions, and dancers who practice forms outside the Western canon. Through focusing on perspectives that have traditionally been marginalized in dance journalism, Stance on Dance found its footing as a journal where ideas and ways of working that challenge the status quo are covered and celebrated.

In 2017, I embarked on a second book project, this time in collaboration with Austin/Finland based dance educator Silva Laukkanen, interviewing professional dancers with disabilities. Breadth of Bodies: Discussing Disability in Dance came out this spring 2022 and features 35 professional dancers with disabilities in 15 countries. Through our interviews, Silva and I deepened our knowledge of problematic stereotypes, barriers to education, access issues, and terminology preferences. These interviews are accompanied with whimsical illustrations by San Francisco based artist Liz Brent-Maldonado.

That brings us to the present. After years of publishing weekly online content covering dance artists from many practices and places, Stance on Dance is excited to announce the launch of a twice-a-year print publication that will further promote dance and the many perspectives of its practitioners. This first issue features an interview by Sophia Diehl with dance movement therapist Giulia Carotenuto, an essay by Katie Flashner on relocating her life and dance practice from southern California to Maine, an essay by Cherie Hill on advocating for equity in dance spaces, an essay by Bhumi Patel on decolonizing praxis, three original dance inspired illustrations by Camille Taft, and an interview by Nikhita Winkler with French dance artist Illan Riviere. I also have contributed an interview with Miami-based choreographer Pioneer Winter on his intergenerational and physically integrated dance company, and an interview (translated and facilitated by Lorie House) with Colombian butoh artist Brenda Polo and her collaborators who are studying the effects of butoh on the brain. We will eventually publish all this content on stanceondance.com, but I believe the design and opportunity for more sustained reading brings the content to life in a different, hopefully more enjoyable, way.

Where will you read your copy of Stance on Dance? And will you share it with your friends?

I hope you will consider supporting Stance on Dance in this exciting new format by helping spread the word or becoming a donor/subscriber. Many thanks to those of you who have supported and followed Stance on Dance in its many iterations over the past decade!

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To donate to support dance journlism and recieve two issues of Stance on Dance in print a year, visit stanceondance.com/support.

To learn more about the Spring/Summer 2022 issue or to order a single copy, visit stanceondance.com/print-publication.

The post Stance on Dance’s Journey to Print appeared first on Stance on Dance.

Nikhita Winkler is the founder of Nikhita Winkler Dance Theatre (NWDT), a dance school located in Windhoek, Namibia. Driven by her passion and belief that dance can be a tool to educate, connect and support vulnerable children, Nikhita has applied her training in Europe and the US to developing and amplifying the dance scene in her home country. Here, she shares the scope of her ambition and the steps she’s taking to get there.

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Can you share a little about your dance history – what kinds of performance practices and in what contexts shaped who you are today?

I started dancing at the age of five at College of the Arts in Windhoek, Namibia. My first love was ballet. I did RAD [Royal Academy of Dance training] until I was 16 years old. I also took hip hop classes and joined local dance crews between primary and high school. At age 15, I started my own dance crew called Disturbance. We were a group of five females who performed with local musicians. At age 16, I received a scholarship to attend one of what was then 15 United World Colleges (UWC). I moved to Norway for two years to attend the Red Cross Nordic United World College (RCNUWC) and formed a contemporary group with seven of my co-years who were from all over the world.

It was always my dream to dance in New York, so after UWC I applied to dance colleges in the US and received a four-year scholarship to Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs where I completed my bachelor’s degree in Dance Performance with a concentration in Neuroscience. I was living my dream. I was called the dancing doctor when I was young because of my desire to be both a dancer and a doctor, and here I was: a young Namibian dancer in New York studying dance and neuroscience.

At Skidmore, I took my first modern dance, jazz and improvisation classes. I continued with ballet, joined the hip hop group on campus, and performed works by Professor Mary Harney, etudes from Donald McKayle “Rainbow Etude,” as well as works by Isadora Duncan, José Limón and David Parsons. Dancing at Skidmore was exciting. The style of the department was new, challenging and fun. I was a teacher’s assistant for improvisation and dance experience, which was a class dominated by students from other departments taking dance to fulfill their arts requirement. I appreciated the opportunities to see other dance companies. The most memorable of all performances, and possibly my favorite work to date, is In The Upper Room by Twayla Tharp, performed by American Ballet Theatre.

When I graduated in 2015, I had the option to further my studies in Movement Therapy in New York or Chicago, or to return to Namibia where I was going to start working on the bigger dream. It has been my life goal to found Namibia’s biggest, most acclaimed, celebrated and internationally recognized dance school. But first, I wanted to just dance. Unfortunately, dancing as a career in Namibia is almost non-existent unless you are part of a traditional performing group. I returned to Namibia after graduation to start working on my dream and with the goal of refocusing my training in traditional and local street styles. I briefly joined a Tswana cultural group called Makgona Ngwao, which my traditional dance teachers come from. This inspired me to fuse traditional dance with contemporary, bringing fresh entertainment to our local audiences. My style sets me apart today and has exposed me to the best performance opportunities in the industry, which include being the co-choreographer of our Independence Day mass performances.

What was the impetus for initiating Nikhita Winkler Dance Theatre?

Nikhita Winkler Dance Theatre (NWDT) is a childhood dream that is driven by my passion for dance. Coming from a middle-class family and raised by a single mother, I could never have afforded the education I received from the best schools in the world. I was blessed with opportunity, and I was prepared for these opportunities. NWDT is my way of giving back to Namibia, to Africa, and to the world. The impetus comes from a very deep feeling of gratitude for the life I have been blessed with. NWDT stands for the empowerment of dreams.

Nikhita in Oshiwambo traditional ondelela dress, Photo by Karl Leck

How is it organized? What kinds of classes do you offer and how often? What communities do you work with?

NWDT is a dance school by day and dance gym by night. The studio supports skilled but practicing and professional artists/dancers/teachers to further develop their skills in dance teaching, training and/or choreography as well as a platform for already established classes to grow their clientele.

The day training program is for children ages four and up. We have classes in contemporary, hip hop and traditional dance. Our youngest group is age four to seven, and we call them Grassroots. It is mandatory for this group to take all three genres offered in the first year of their training, after which they can specialize. Hence, Grassroots have class three times a week; Monday hip hop, Wednesday contemporary, and Friday traditional dance. We value the variety of classes we offer at NWDT, a unique component of our studio. Through the Grassroots model, we educate our youngest about dance in its diversity and we shape our students into eclectic bodies. Enrollment into this program is twice a year, ending with a year-end celebration performed to local Namibian or originally produced music.

In the evenings, we offer a variety of dance fitness classes such as twerking, heels and African dance classes for adults. Our classes mostly accommodate women but are not closed off to men. The studio operates like a gym wherein members can pay a monthly fee for unlimited access, a drop-in fee, or a 10-class pass. Saturdays we are available for any dancer who wants to offer an open class like improvisation, acrobatics, etc.

We recently started the open class/evening program to empower dance instructors to teach without the weight of paying high studio rental costs and doing administrative work; to employ dancers; and to support the dance community to work on developing their individual brands while building their own following.

Our community projects, which are youth empowerment initiatives, operate under the Nikhita Winkler Dance Project (NWDP). The project was established in 2017, a year before we opened the Dance Theatre. Since 2017, we have been teaching dance in an underprivileged community in Windhoek called Otjomuise. We work with vulnerable children to teach life skills through dance such as discipline, respectful and positive communication, leadership, confidence, teamwork, self-care and nutrition. We also expose our students to other dance related events by taking them on day trips and performing opportunities, for which they can get paid.

Our other community project is a dance workshop that takes place once a year and which aims to draw talent from all corners of Namibia, empowering the youth to reconnect with their stories through a therapeutic movement workshop. The project is called Street Style Stories (SSS). It challenges dancers to explore meaningful expression and reflect on the journeys of their individual and collective lives. SSS develops the dancers’ skills to express poignant narrative through movement while encouraging them to explore the parameters around more natural versus choreographed ways of traditional/classical movement.

NWDT extends all performance and work opportunities to this pool of talent from our projects, open classes, training program, and teachers, selecting the best performers or those who show potential and ability to perform. Hence, performance opportunities – ranging from commercial to government to corporate to music and theater concerts – are shared with students as young as four years old.

Traditional dance performance by NWDT students from the Otjomuise program for 2019 year-end celebration

How would you characterize the dance scene in Windhoek, and how does your work fit into that scene?

Our dance scene is emerging but almost stagnant due to a lack of educational, funding and work opportunities. Most dancers are freelancers finding informal employment in the music industry. We only have one professional company that is also dependent on funding sources, and quite a few dance studios that train young students. There are hardly any opportunities for professional dancers to train, so professionals are forced to find opportunities outside of the country, to create international networks and partnerships that can support events such as the Windhoek International Dance Festival. Dance in theater needs to explore new ways of engaging artistry and collaboration, or dancers need to expand their skills to penetrate the theater scene.

The work that I do aspires to bring stability to the dance scene by providing employment opportunities for young adults from which they gain practical management, leadership, teaching and professional skills. Our main challenge is finding support for projects and creating a strong network to become more independent from government and/or private funding. Therefore, my goal is to inspire innovative thinking and collaboration across industries, as well as create partnerships that can benefit from our skills. NWDT is a model for diversifying profitable opportunities within dance, employing artists, training children and adults, and collaborating with other dance schools, crews and professionals to share opportunities and strengthen our isolated community.

Can you share more about the Ambassadors of Dance program?

The Ambassadors of Dance is our school’s motto. It reminds us of where we are going, why we continue to challenge ourselves and strive for excellence, and that we are in the process of shaping disciplined role models in our communities, as well as representing Namibia on a national and global platform. Currently, our teachers – myself and the traditional dance teacher, Onaleena Mogotsi, leader of Makgona Ngwao cultural group – have either toured, performed or taught classes internationally. In 2018, one of our students from Street Style Stories competed in the World Championship of Performing Arts in Los Angeles and returned home with three gold medals. In 2019, we selected another student from SSS to represent Namibia as an Ambassador in Zambia for the launch of Multichoice’s Talent Factory.

How would you like to expand/grow your work in the future?

I have envisioned the growth of my work for the next two decades. First, we need to ensure that all our projects run annually and are sustainable with secure funding and branching throughout the country. We still need to buy and develop curriculums for our training program and become accredited and approved by the government as a training institution so that we can train more dance teachers to start teaching dance in schools. I would like to open a dance shop and design my own dancewear. Sooner than later, I would like to start a YouTube channel and develop the school’s website and booking system. There’s obviously a lot of planning that goes into a project of this scale and it will take time to grow in Namibia because we have a population of 2.5 million people, 325,000 of which live in Windhoek. I am still in the beginning stages of transitioning from an artist to an entrepreneur/art-trepreneur. Most important right now is finding the right minds who are willing to work together and who have the skills to help the dream unfold.

Dewen Gariseb, a dancer from Street Style Stories

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To learn more, visit www.facebook.com/nwdancetheatre.

The post Namibia’s Ambassador of Dance appeared first on Stance on Dance.

Meet our director and editor:

Emmaly Wiederholt is a dance artist and arts journalist based in Albuquerque, NM. She founded Stance on Dance in 2012. Emmaly earned her MA in Arts Journalism from the University of Southern California and her BFA in Ballet and BS in Political Science from the University of Utah. She further trained at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance and performed extensively around the Bay Area. Her first book, Beauty is Experience: Dancing 50 and Beyond, was published in 2017, and her second book, Breadth of Bodies: Discussing Disability in Dance, was published in 2022. Emmaly is also a master DanceAbility instructor and facilitates movement groups at the UNM Hospital adult psychiatric ward, as well as is a founding member of the dance advocacy nonprofit ABQ Dance Connect. She continues to perform throughout the Southwest.

Photo by Allen Winston

Our contributors have included:

Snowflake Arizmendi-Calvert, a performance artist and organizer in the Bay Area.

Gregory Bartning, a photographer in Portland, OR.

Liz Duran Boubion, the director of the Festival of Latin American Contemporary Choreographers in the Bay Area.

Liz Brent-Maldonado, an artist, writer, educator, and producer in San Francisco, CA.

Michelle Chaviano, a ballet dancer with Ballet North Texas.

Bradford Chin, a disabled dance artist and accessibility consultant in Chicago, IL, and San Francisco, CA.

Shebana Coelho, a writer and performer currently studying flamenco in Spain.

breana connor, an interdisciplinary artist, facilitator + healer in Albuquerque, NM.

Lauren Coons, an interdisciplinary artist, performer, healer and educator in Albuquerque, NM.

Julia Cost, a painter, textile designer, sewist, and dancer in Maui, HI.

Sophia Diehl, a dancer in New York City.

Bonnie Eissner, a writer in New York City.

Katie Flashner, a.k.a. The Girl with the Tree Tattoo, a World Champion ballroom dancer and author in ME.

Micaela Gardner, a dancer and choreographer in Baja, Mexico.

Sarah Groth, an interdisciplinary artist from Albuquerque, NM.

Cherie Hill, a dance educator and choreographer based in the Bay Area.

Lorie House, a dancer, choreographer, and lawyer in NM.

Silva Laukkanen, a dance educator and disability advocate in Austin, TX.

Mary Elizabeth Lenahan, the director of Dance Express in Fort Collins, CO.

Shannon Leypoldt, a dance artist, teacher, and sports massage therapist in Berlin.

Erin Malley, a dance artist and tango teacher based in West Michigan.

Julianna Massa, a dance artist in Albuquerque, NM.

Aiano Nakagawa, a dance artist, educator, facilitator, writer, and event producer in the Bay Area.

Jessie Nowak, a dance artist and filmmaker in Portland, OR.

Kevin O’Connor, a multidisciplinary artist in London, Ontario, and the San Francisco Bay Area.

Bhumi B Patel, an artist/activist based in the Bay Area.

Stephanie Potreck, a sports nutritionist and health advocate who currently resides in Germany.

Jill Randall, artistic director of Shawl-Anderson Dance Center in Berkeley, CA.

Kathryn Roszak, a choreographer, filmmaker, educator, and activist in the Bay Area.

Donna Schoenherr, director of Ballet4Life and Move into Wellbeing in London, UK.

Maggie Stack, a dancer and teacher in Reno, NV.

Camille Taft, a CO front range-based mover and visual artist.

Mary Trunk, a filmmaker, choreographer, and multimedia artist in Altadena, CA.

Diana Turner-Forte, a teaching artist, healing arts coach, and writer in NC.

Ana Vrbaski, a body music practitioner in Serbia.

Nikhita Winkler, a dancer, choreographer, and teacher from Namibia who currently resides in Spain.

Erica Pisarchuk Wilson, a dance artist, visual artist and poet in Albuquerque, NM.

Rebecca Zeh, an interdisciplinary artist in Sarasota Springs, NY.

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Our board:

Snowflake Arizmendi-Calvert

Cathy Intemann

Alana Isiguen

Courtney King

Malinda LaVelle

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