Last week, an announcement was made in my African Dance class that Nora Chipaumire, a contemporary award-winning dance artist and Zimbabwe native, was teaching a workshop on the Tempe campus that weekend. In my excited decision to attend, I was fortunately unaware of her status before or I would probably have been too intimidated to take the class. In this case, ignorance proved to be bliss.
Arriving at the class Saturday afternoon, I realized I would be the most inexperienced dancer, which I optimistically convinced myself as meaning I had the most learning potential. Lucky (and sometimes embarrassing) me!
There was a lot to absorb in the three-hour workshop. The first thing to work on was the posture. Dance from Zimbabwe is known for its bend at the waist and knees to allow for easy flow from one move to the other. There is a very downward, earth-bound orientation with the shuffling foot movements, and to add to the fluidity of the dance, it’s best to move the neck and chest instead of the shoulders.
Chipaumire would emphasize the connection between the dancer and the earth more than anything else. Weight was what gave the dance meaning—to draw energy from the ground instead of pushing against it.
The words that came to mind when seeing Chipaumire move were control and complexity. Though it seems that African dance is wild, Chipaumire danced passionately but with accuracy and exactness. The precise rhythms and movements was how she cultivated and projected her energy.
Seeing this reminded me of what my African dance instructor, Greg Wilson (students respectfully call him Sule), said, “Binding tight does not show mastery; specificity within fluidity does.”
When Chipaumire danced, it was easy to recognize her strength and power. Her body actively communicated emotion and history, though her face was serene and stoic.
Towards the end of the workshop, all of us (the drummers, musicians, dancers) talked about our opinions on cultural, political, and economic identities and how it related to dance. It was clear that Chipaumire was very keen on the collaborative process and meanings of her dance, and though she was knowledgeable, she was very curious about what everyone else thought. Each person had a particular worldview, which they hoped would show through in their art.
Nora said of her own culture later, “Dance is generally the way most Africans worship [and practice animism], and dance is therefore a vital means with which to commune with god, ancestors and one's world.” (Animism is the belief that non-human entities are spiritual beings--there is no separation between the spiritual and physical world)
After the workshop I still had questions, so I asked Sule what he thought people should understand about African dance. He told me, “I wish people understood that African dances, music, dress, and you-name-it are, first and foremost, languages--ways of speaking with vocabulary, syntax, and rules as specific as any other language.” He added, “proper execution…demands as much discipline and specificity as any other form--be it French ballet, Tai Chi or downhill skiing. Control is demonstrated by letting go.”
