"Dance Gave My Life Meaning Before I Knew I Needed Meaning in My Life"
Apparently, it all started at a pizza shop in New Hampshire. I was monkeying around, brimming with nervous energy. A stranger approached my mom and said, "You know, you really ought to put her in some dance classes."
I was born on Oahu to a Hawaiian-Filipino father and an Aussie mother. My late father would play the ukulele in his spare time, while I'd imitate whatever form of hula I could grasp at that point. He unknowingly taught me about rhythm and music, and is a big part of why I gravitated towards dance.
We moved every couple years across various states. I did whatever activities my mother could afford, trying out gymnastics or soccer. Being one of six kids, we mostly just had each other and lots of housework. I craved consistency and a place to feel rooted. I developed anxiety, literally pulling my hair out while obsessing over small things, which I suppose helped me feel like I had a sense of control. Looking back now, I see how lost I was.
Pantastico in Jerome Robbins' Opus 19/The Dreamer.
Angela Sterling, Courtesy PNB
Then at 11, I started attending the renowned Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet. Nothing had come close to how dancing made me feel. The late director Marcia Dale Weary gave me structure and positive reinforcement, with goals to be better. She made me see and hear beauty daily, things that I hadn't felt consistently since my Hawaii days. Dance gave my life meaning before I knew I needed meaning in my life.
Dance has always made difficult times more bearable—without question, saving my life. I have several years left before I hang up my shoes, but now I'm finding other ways to contribute to the art form. I formed Seattle Dance Collective with James Moore to create opportunities for artists to come together. I have a bucket list of choreographers I'd like to work with (or work with again), and if my own list doesn't get fulfilled, then at least I can provide these powerful encounters for others.
Pantastico and Seth Orza in George Balanchine's Stravinsky Violin Concerto.
Angela Sterling, Courtesy PNB
We need art in our lives to survive. It's something primal. I see it when people listen to music or look at paintings. When people are being creative. When people dance. I feel very lucky to give back to an art form that has shaped my existence so beautifully.
Yvonne Rainer's Parts of Some Sextets (AKA "the mattress dance") hasn't been revived since it premiered in 1965. Nor has Rainer had any wish to do it again, to ask performers to heave 10 mattresses around while carrying out 31 tasks that changed every 30 seconds. It was an unwieldy, difficult dance. (Even the title is unwieldy.) But Emily Coates, who has danced in Rainer's work for 20 years, became curious about this piece and was determined to see it again—and to dance in it. She will get her wish November 15–17, when the mattress dance will be performed as part of the Performa 19 Biennial.
Back in 2011 when Joe Lanteri first approached Katie Langan, chair of Marymount Manhattan College's dance department, about getting involved with New York City Dance Alliance, she was skeptical about the convention/competition world.
"But I was pleasantly surprised by the enormity of talent that was there," she says. "His goal was to start scholarship opportunities, and I said okay, I'm in."
Today, it's fair to say that Lanteri has far surpassed his goal of creating scholarship opportunities. But NYCDA has done so much more, bridging the gap between the convention world and the professional world by forging a wealth of partnerships with dance institutions from Marymount to The Ailey School to Complexions Contemporary Ballet and many more. There's a reason these companies and schools—some of whom otherwise may not see themselves as aligned with the convention/competition world—keep deepening their relationships with NYCDA.
Now, college scholarships are just one of many ways NYCDA has gone beyond the typical weekend-long convention experience and created life-changing opportunities for students. We rounded up some of the most notable ones:
"The show must go on" may be a platitude we use to get through everything from costume malfunctions to stormy moods. But when it came to overcoming a literal hurricane, Houston Ballet was buoyed by this mantra to go from devastated to dancing in a matter of weeks—with the help of Harlequin Floors, Houston Ballet's longstanding partner who sprang into action to build new floors in record time.