I first heard of the International Day of Dance little more than two months ago. It was Chrissy who told us of its existence and said, “Maybe we should do something about it.”
So we did.
Anji and Jan at the Arts Council hadn’t heard of it either, but they thought it sounded like a good idea.
“If you get something organised, we will see what we can do to help you, “ they said.
It took a lot of doing. First we had to find out if any other dance groups were interested. This took time but it wasn’t too hard: some of us belong to more than one group and all of us have friends. Gradually the answers came back. Perree Bane and the Manx Folk Dance Society were interested, Polly who teaches the Bollywood dancing was interested too but unfortunately would be away, Ron and Elizabeth Sibthorpe would love to take part. Then there was a venue to find. We needed somewhere central, open to the public but at least partly sheltered from the always-unpredictable weather, and with a good level surface to dance on. Several places were suggested, and we finally settled on the bandstand in the Villa Marina Park. There was a problem. (There is always a problem.) The Villa Marina itself would be in use that day, hosting the final day of the Manx Music Festival. Some of our dancers would in fact be competing there during the afternoon. We decided to go ahead anyway. A PA system was borrowed, (many thanks, Anji!) an extra long cable bought, and a dance floor hired. And that was just the start of it.
A programme needed to be decided on. Some groups wanted simply to give a display, others, including Hediya, suggested also inviting members of the public up to take part in a brief workshop. The running order was dictated by the times people could or couldn’t be there. Chrissy and Karey made dozens of phone calls and finally got it all sorted out.
Then there were the rehearsals. Hediya had opted to do two group choreographies, one being Alison’s “Walk Like an Egyptian” in of course, the modern Egyptian style. The other was an American Tribal piece first devised by Michelle but much adapted. There were also a couple of duets and solos, and Chrissy offered to end the programme with a couple of Gypsy dances. And all of these needed practicing. There were tears and tantrums, sore heads and sore feet, but finally several very finely polished pieces emerged. And since costume is also very important, a great deal of fun was had dressing up, not to mention making, borrowing and lending.
So Saturday arrived at last, overcast and with a chilly breeze blowing in from the sea, but dry. We met early and began the work of hanging up the brightly coloured drapes, and setting up the PA system. The wooden dance floor was already in place. Slowly but surely, with string and safely pins, it all began to take shape. The cable was linked up, the power was switched on, and music began to play. People began to wander over to see what was happening. At twelve o’clock Chrissy and Adrienne took up their positions, and Julia announced the start of the show. Then she said, “Excuse us a moment while we get the PA system working.” And work it did, and continued to work almost perfectly until nearly the end of the afternoon.
Chrissy and Adrienne danced their Spanish-Arabic veil dance, very colourful and dramatic. The small but growing crowd cheered enthusiastically. As they left the stage, Alison and her group of Egyptian dancers wandered on, casually, dressed in several different versions of “street clothes”, plus coin belts. They moved smoothly (I hope!) into their version of “Walk like an Egyptian”, after which Alison invited members of the audience to join us on stage and learn the steps to “Kiss Kiss”. Quite a number of them did.
This was followed by a late but very welcome entry, the Dublin City Morris Dancers. Now the word “Morris” quite possibly derives from “Moorish”, that is Arab, and some of the stick work does indeed resemble the Saidi stick dances. But Morris dancing is a very English art, so in the space of the first three items we have touched on at least four different countries, not bad for a mini international festival.
Next came the two Manx troupes. They were already there, of course, in full costume, and seemed to be quite happy to have a final run-through of their competition pieces in front of an audience. The performances were polished, the costumes were beautiful. The children of Perree Vane deserve a special mention for their sheer enthusiasm and enjoyment of the dance. Then someone called, “Hurry up, we’re on next!” and they all disappeared into the Villa.
Fat grey clouds wandered overhead, but no rain fell. The wind picked up a little, causing our backdrop sheets to flap alarmingly. On stage, as a complete change, Ron and Elizabeth were dancing an Argentinean tango. It looked very smooth and rather complicated. Then they invited us all up to learn some salsa steps. This was fun. Ron gave us little bits of history in between shouting instructions: “Step forward, step back, squash that cockroach….” Just as we reached the grand finale of the piece, a cord broke with a loud bang and part of the backdrop fell down.
“We’ll use a thicker cord next time,” said Karey, repositioning speakers and re-fastening pins.
As if to add insult to injury, the sun came out.
The last part of the afternoon was all Hediya, but face it guys, we are a versatile crew. Adrienne, Chrissy and Karey danced the famous sword dance, looking magnificent in full tribal gear. Julia danced a most beautiful solo, then the Tribal team processed back onto the stage for their choreography. At the end of it an invitation was issued to the audience for the third time, and the stage filled up one more. I found myself standing next to one of my daughter’s friends from school, with no time to say anything except, “Left foot first” and “Step forward, step back, and turn!”
Finally, in no particular order, there was a Gypsy dance and some Greek dances led by Chrissy, a solo by Madeleine, and a reprise of some of the Egyptian and Tribal group choreographies. After that the PA system went on strike, and with the weather worsening, it was time to call it a day.
It had been a good day. I really appreciated the chance to see some other dance groups in action, and to learn a little more about their styles. It had involved a great deal of hard work, particularly by Karey and Chrissy, and also by everyone else involved. But my own feeling was that it was worth it.
As one small girl explained to an equally small friend:
“I’ve been belly dancing, and it was well ace!”