by Claudia Bauer

via InDance

San Francisco’s Sean Dorsey Dance has racked up a nice trophy case: a Goldie, a pair of Izzies, a “Best Dance-Performance Company” nod from SF Weekly, a 2010 Dance Magazine  ”25 to Watch,” and major national commissions for The Secret History of Love, a groundbreaking dance-theater production about the life experiences of LGBT people in decades past, and how those courageous elders found love against sometimes terrifying odds.

But the secret of Secret History is that it’s about all of us: our vulnerability, our deep need to connect and the risks we take to do so, how we’re all in the same rickety little boat, hoping to navigate to safe harbor. It’s also about well-constructed dance, compelling storytelling and laugh-out-loud humor.

Dorsey spent two years interviewing elders across the U.S. and perusing archives to garner material for the show, which incorporates contemporary dance, spoken word, voiceovers and live music. Performed by Dorsey, Juan de la Rosa, Brian Fisher, Nol Simonse and Shawna Virago, Secret History premiered at Dance Mission Theater in March 2012/ Then the company piled into the Sean Dorsey Family Van for a nine-city tour that succeeded far beyond their expectations.

The show returns to Dance Mission March 28-31 before heading out on a fifteen-city tour. It turns out that America can really relate to Secret History. Dorsey sat down with Claudia Bauer to talk about how queer, and wonderful, that is.

CB: Secret History is not the typical dance performance. How were you received?

SD: We visited an incredible range of cities, from downtown Miami to rural Wisconsin. We were so blessed to visit a real range of communities, some of whom are steeped in amazing access to dance and art and culture and LGBT community, and some of whom have literally no access to LGBT arts and very little community support.

CB: Did you feel in danger at all?

SD: We were definitely aware of our safety. Everyone in the company is LGBT, and so we were conscious of ourselves as pretty visible. But it was also amazing—walking into a small-town restaurant where the flamboyantly gay waiter came to our table. It made me so mindful of how, despite the daily threats of violence and economic marginalization so many trans people still live within the Bay Area, how much of a beautiful pink bubble we live in here. In Whitewater, which is in rural Wisconsin—Romney signs everywhere—when we got to the theater I said to the company, “We may have forty or fifty people show up, and that is okay because this work is important and beautiful. Know that those forty or fifty people in this thousand-seat theater are going to really connect with the work and take it home with them.” And then we had 500 people come, which was absolutely mind-blowing.

CB: Do you think they were drawn by contemporary dance or by the LGBT theme?

SD: Both. There were young queer people, young trans students, there were middle-aged straight dance enthusiasts. After the show all kinds of people lined up to talk to us, including a young straight couple who came up to me, and the guy, kind of a jock, said, “My girlfriend is interested in dance, and this was the first dance show I’ve ever seen. Thank you, this was really cool and interesting and powerful.” That’s so beautiful, to have people who I would never expect to wait in line to give us feedback and love.

CB: My sense is that anyone who is in touch with that vulnerable part of themselves can relate to Secret History.

SD: I think that’s why the young transgender person who has never seen dance before will respond to the work just as strongly as the person who doesn’t know any trans people at all. My ultimate goal is for the work to be really human and universal—about our fears of being different or of isolation or taking risks, the vulnerability of relationships. We all feel that.

CB: Boston was a huge moment for you, because that’s where this all began.

SD: I’d worked with Boston elders’ life stories and voices for two years by the time we returned for the East Coast premiere last May. Many of those elders attended that show, and for us there was a great anticipation and excitement, and also some anxiety: Did we do these people’s stories and lives justice? It’s such an incredible responsibility to first witness and hold someone’s life story, struggles and joys and pains, survival—and then to embody it on stage. 

       The theater sat about 200 people, and all four show sold out. At every show there was at least one elder who was a part of the oral history project, and we would invite them up for the bows. They were all in tears, and every single elder expressed that they felt that their story and their voice was so deeply honored; I am proud of that. These elders are the ones who opened the doors, endured police harassment, sexual assault and beatings and bar raids, lost custody of their children, survived horrors… but they also fell in love, organized, started the bathhouse scene, sparked the sexual revolution, accomplished so much. Our culture dismisses our elders, desexualizes them, stops listening to them and taking them seriously. So these elders felt that their struggles and victories were finally being seen. The core theme of the show is that despite all the struggle and pain, human beings still have a capacity for joy, love, beauty, healing, resilience, adventure.

CB: That strength to keep trying is profoundly moving. I don’t know where that courage comes from.

SD: Even though there are more school-based support groups in larger cities than ever before, in every single city that we toured to, we still hear  LGBT youth say, “This is the first time I’ve seen someone like me onstage.”

CB: Why is it important to see ourselves reflected in culture?

SD: Art allows us to dream and imagine our futures. It feeds us and sparks our hunger for beauty and justice. Seeing ourselves in culture is affirmation that we exist, that we matter; when we’re excluded from it, it sends us a very strong message that we don’t matter and that our bodies aren’t beautiful. 

CB: How does Secret History address that?

SD: Showing LGBT people that they are part of a lineage of powerful, strong, daring, loving people and ancestors who made our lives possible is a very powerful thing. Most of the time, transgender and queer people never, never, never get to see themselves reflected in culture. And if we ever are represented, we are pathologized. Much of the country hasn’t thought about that reality.

CB: You did a lot of outreach on the tour as well.

SD: Whenever we tour we do a residency, which might include teaching dance classes or leading a community conversation or a panel on arts and social justice. One of my favorite things to do in these residencies is a dance workshop that welcomes absolutely terrified beginners and that is transgender-friendly and queer-friendly. Almost all transgender people will never set foot in a gym or a yoga studio or a dance studio because it is profoundly unsafe and unwelcoming for them, so being in a room full of people who are able to access physical expression for the first time, and then dancing my choreography together, always brings me to tears. It feels absolutely, spectacularly amazing. 

CB: So now Secret History returns to San Francisco. Is it the same show, after all these experiences? 

SD: I feel like the work is inhabited now by so many more people who the work touched over the past year. It feels like this jam-packed, buzzing room full of voices in the work. Brian, Nol, Juan and Shawna are all such brilliantly gifted performers, and we all had such profound experiences on tour this year. The emotional response that the work has gotten is going to inhabit and charge the work and its gesture and touch and partnering in a new way… all those things get embodied in the dance, and the show evolves.

CB: What has this meant to you as an artist, as a person?

SD: Getting to sit across a table from transgender and queer elders across the country and experiencing their generous vulnerability and openness about their life histories, and to have such amazing dancer-performer collaborators, is such a gift. When I researched in the archives, I put my hands on people’s real love letters, even love notes on cocktail napkins. What inspiration! The project also kicked my ass and pushed me in a lot of ways, and absolutely changed my life and my career. It brought national visibility and acclaim for my work. We have tours booked through 2014! It has been a life-changing blessing.

CB: What’s next?

SD: I’m launching my new project, The Missing Generation and the Source of Joy. What became painfully clear in my last process were all the voices that were absent, all the people we lost to AIDS who would have been my elders, my teachers, our friends and peers and lovers. To create the show I will jump back into archrival research, and I am launching an LGBT Intergenerational Oral History Project in which I will bring youth and elders in conversation with each other.

       Starting in the 1950s, Drag Mothers, Butch Dads and the Ball scene’s House Mothers played such an important familial role for youth and provided mentorship, support, housing, lifesaving relationships… and all this changed so radically when we lost much of an entire generation to AIDS. We’ll premiere part one of the show in March 2014. I’m very excited about this project. 

by Claire F. Meyler

via indance

As the first high notes of fiddle fill the air, a group of twelve men in jeans and flannel shirts begin to clap rhythmically. A banjo joins the fiddle, and the men are off—stomping out a strong beat against the wooden floor, their toes and heels hitting the boards in a driving thump-clackity-thump as legs fly merrily. These are the Barbary Coast Cloggers, an all-male clogging ensemble known for their energetic and upbeat performances.

If America is, as the saying goes, a “melting pot,” then clogging is one of the earliest fusions drawn from that steaming cauldron. Once known as “American step dancing,” clogging is the first folk dance form of the United States. Ian Enriquez, Artistic Director of the Barbary Coast Cloggers, explains, “When the country was first formed, people from different countries would play instruments together, and you would have this blend that included Scottish and Irish fiddles, German mandolins, and African banjoes.” Immigrants and Native Americans mixed disparate musical styles, instruments and dance moves, teaching each other steps and notes as they went. From this mixture, our ancestors created bluegrass music and clog dancing. Contemporary audiences may be more familiar with tap-dancing, clogging’s highly syncopated off-shoot. Clogging, born in the Appalachian Mountains, retains a more relaxed, bucolic feel. Musing on the dance’s early formation, Enriquez says, “In a national history loaded with division, slavery, and discrimination, it’s uplifting to imagine people from such different backgrounds and cultures coming together and partying.”

In this respect, the Barbary Coast Cloggers remain true to the roots of the genre: the group itself is composed of men from diverse backgrounds and age ranges. The guys who perform in the Barbary Coast Cloggers ensemble have a wide range of day jobs: therapists, school principals, police officers and even piano tuners. But, like those early Appalachian cloggers, these men are brought together by a shared love of music, dance and camaraderie.

The Barbary Coast company is unique in that it is the only all-male traditional clogging group in the country. They began performing in 1981, an off-shoot of The Foggy City Squares, a gay square dance group dating back to the ’70s. Though the current company is a mix of gay and straight men, the group’s all-male cast remains a part of their appeal. Audiences love the Barbary Coast Cloggers, says Ian Enriquez, because they’re responding to that boisterous masculine energy. Whereas some choreographers may portray masculine “strength” in dance using anger or violence, Enriquez is inspired by the “joyful and rambunctious” spirit of male dancers like Gene Kelly. For the cloggers, Enriquez says, “Everything we do is about the joy of dance, and the audience responds to that.”

If the men of Barbary Coast Cloggers have an obvious love for dancing, then it’s no surprise that they love to share this joy with others. Though winter is generally a quiet time for the company, they regularly participate in several festivals throughout the year: the San Francisco Ethnic Dance Festival in June; the Bay Area Tap Festival in August; and the San Mateo Harvest Festival in November. 

Year-round, the Cloggers also teach classes, open to dancers of all ages and walks of life, ladies included. Clogging is an easily accessible dance for newcomers: the distinctive metal taps can be glued to any comfortable pair of shoes. Sunday nights at the ODC Dance Commons, Ian Enriquez leads a two-hour lesson that gets progressively harder, encouraging students to push their skills and learn from advanced dancers. In the new year, the company will expand their class offerings, leading advanced classes on Monday nights at City Dance. Enriquez explains, “People like to have their weekends free. With weeknight classes, we can serve more working folks. I’m looking forward to teaching more people how to clog.”

The group also shares a dedication to charity work, and has been acknowledged by the City and County of San Francisco for its charitable contributions, which have helped raise thousands of dollars for local causes, including AIDS support organizations, MS and breast cancer research and the arts. Since its formation, the Barbary Coast Cloggers have focused their time and energy on providing entertainment at fundraisers in San Francisco, including a commitment to the Sundance Stompede and the Richmond-Ermet Pediatric AIDS Foundation. For one memorable show, the Cloggers donned Santa suits and joined Nancy Sinatra on-stage for “These Boots are Made for Walking,” a number that brought the audience to their feet. As Enriquez puts it, “We don’t turn down gigs for non-profits. It’s just a matter of two things: if we have enough dancers available for the evening and they have a good dance floor, then we can do it.” Of course, it’s a special bonus to perform a show that both entertains and educates, allowing the group a chance to speak about clogging’s rich history.

Clogging with a modern sensibility

Though clogging has a long tradition in bluegrass music, the Barbary Coast Cloggers recognize that folk dance is a living tradition, with room for growth. In addition to their traditional repertoire, the men of Barbary Coast dance to many types of music, from contemporary hip hop to pop hits, and even tunes from other parts of the world, like Hawaii and Algeria. As Artistic Director, Ian Enriquez welcomes the challenge of honoring the company’s traditional heritage, while also experimenting with the art form. In a daring move, the group performed to “Gangnam Style” at this year’s Harvest Festival. A pop music phenomenon from South Korean rapper PSY, the video for this song has given new meaning to the phrase “viral video.” With its immense popularity (garnering the highest single video viewing count on YouTube, at 867 mililon, as of November 2012), Enriquez says, “It was a lot of pressure, to do our own version. But the crowd loved it.”

Under Enriquez’s leadership, the Barbary Coast Cloggers have performed contemporary pieces at the Fresh Meat Festival and at the Nations of San Diego International Dance Festival. Enriquez admits that it can be nerve-wracking to walk the line between traditional and contemporary folk dance. But, bolstered by warm responses from festival producers and audiences, the company—and the dance style—will continue to evolve. Enriquez says, “I have challenged the artform, but that’s part of the tradition: to bring in other forms of movement and combine dance steps from mixed backgrounds.” While the group will continue to honor the company’s traditional heritage, Enriquez is encouraged by the success of their modern pieces. “It’s fun to celebrate all the different things we can bring in and help it grow.”

Always looking for a new inspiration as a choreographer, Ian Enriquez has found insight in the emotionally rich music of Los Angeles composer Shawn Kirchner’s Meet Me on the Mountain, a suite of bluegrass and soulful country inspired by the movie Broke Back Mountain. The Barbary Coast Cloggers have premiered dances to two of these songs, wherein Enriquez pushed himself to create more square dance formations. With these successful works under his belt, Enriquez faces a unique challenge. Unlike the other songs on the album, the final song best suited for clogging directly addresses gay marriage. For this reason, Enriquez is understandably nervous. The company’s history is closely connected to the gay community, yet their work remains non-political, and definitely non-romantic. With an all-male company, the Barbary Coast Cloggers rarely do “partner work.,” like one sees with co-ed groups. Instead, the company changes partners without end, switching and pairing only briefly. The prospect of creating male-to-male partner work for Kirchner’s song is both exciting and terrifying. Enriquez is ready for the challenge, saying “We just have to confront it and perform it and see what comes of it.” With a track record of crowd-pleasing and critically-acclaimed performances, it seems likely that the Barbary Coast Cloggers will rise to the test with their unique brand of joyful exuberance. To learn more about the Barbary Coast Cloggers, visit their website at www.barbarycoast.org.