My Days as a Dance Groupie: International Day of Dance in Dublin

Before my legs could recover from the Croagh Patrick hike, it was D-day. I’m not talking about the invasion of Normandy, but one of the “ds” mentioned in my playful alliteration above: dance. After I had already committed to the hike, I found out there was a free dance workshop the following day. With classes in Irish dancing, contemporary, hip-hop, and whatever in the world “gaga” dancing was, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

I excitedly put on my tights and leo and made my way into city centre. The location of the theatre the classes were at was close to where I had been going for Greek dancing in Temple Bar, or so I thought. The rainy gates of the Smock Alley Theatre were closed and my hopes of dancing again were shot down. 

I thought back to the website and tried to remember which day it said classes were on. With some luck, I found an internet shop and found out I had been to the wrong location. I missed the first class, but found the Dance House in time for a contemporary class. The class was a lot more low key than I thought, more like a modern class. We did leg swings and floor exercises which wrung out my aching muscles and prepared me for the next class.The studio space was complete with wide windows which overlooked the streets, making the experience more inspiring. While I had planned on taking hip-hop, I decided to attend contemporary and Irish dance fusion to make up for the first Irish dance class I had missed. I had seen a bit of this style at the Ceili festival, but still didn’t know quite what to expect. What I got was a wide-eyed instructor who’s accent I was proud to identify correctly as from Northern Ireland. 

She began the class by having us lye on the floor and work through different levels before reaching the standing position. I’ve never been a fan of floor work, but this exercise helped me to feel more comfortable exploring different levels of space. Instead of teaching us a combination, she had us do some more exercises which helped develop our creative movement. She had us move from a dance technique we considered “home” and when she said “adventure” we would have to stray away for that to create a new sequence. We also wrote down an Irish dance combination and took the words we used to describe the movement to create something else. I felt this helped me open up my improv more, which was exciting. The last class I attended was even more of a stretch. Much to my surprise “gaga” dance had nothing to do with the pop stylings of Lady Gaga, but rather had its roots in the Middle East. The whole thing felt a bit like a meditation session with the body moving. If I hadn’t just done contemporary dance before, I probably would have been a bit freaked out. Everyone around me was really into it though, so I shut my eyes and played along with the teacher’s instructions to “move the body through water,” and to “swing your arms like a rope.” 

The next day I saw a few faces from class again throughout the streets of Temple Bar. After spending some time at my internship, I made my way over to the “artist trail” for International Day of Dance. The first stop was at an art gallery. There were small spools of yarn strewn across the floor and before I could ask what was going on, a dancer began playing with the space down a staircase. The other performers used the variety of spaces in creative ways. Some were accompanied by live music, the massive cello and quirky banjo nonetheless, while others used recorded beats. Dancers popped up everywhere from a table at Connolly’s Books to the dance floor at the Stag’s Head pub. Each dancer brought their own style to the various forms of modern dance, performing everything from long extensions and curves to fast-paced locks. 

The best part of the experience was that because the crowd was rather small and mostly consisted of other dancers in the coalition, I was able to talk with them. They told me it was a bit of a struggle to find work in Ireland, many leaving for other European countries after receiving a degree.  The level of dance education, they said, was also not quite up to pare in the area. Although Irish dancing is what leads the country’s claim to fame, it seems it was a struggle to find work for dancers outside this form. Talking to actual “struggling artists” and seeing their work gave me some perspective on what it’s like to live off what you create (something I will have to deal with one of these days...) 

The way globalization and modernization have affected how dance is performed and taught really hit me through the whole experience. Through modern dance, these performers were questioning the merit of traditional style and technique. The fact that I had done some of the same exercises across the sea also reflects this global influence. While each country holds its own form of traditional dance, the organic movement done performed by these dancers was similar to what I had choreographed in my bedroom. As I have learned different traditional forms, the footwork and placements sometimes overlap. Dance really does break down these barriers by allowing every tradition to hold on to its voice and showcasing the similarities between them. 

International Dance Day helped re-inspire me to keep dancing and to learn more about the thousands of dance forms out there. 

A Slow-Growing Love: Dublin Week 12

     Some places you go to and the beauty of the atmosphere hits you with a sensational high and you immediately are enamored. Pulling into the overcast skies of Dublin’s city centre for the first time on a double decker bus, which seemed so foreign to me at the time, I don’t recall having this connection. There were no green fields or smiling leprechauns to greet me, but rather cold, rain and strangers. 

Now not only has the sunshine peeked out of its cover of clouds, the culture and life of Dublin and Ireland has shown itself in its subtle manner. 

     Walking around city centre I can easily navigate the streets while still finding hidden gems. One of those is a pocket of space called Smithfield. I had been to a pub in the area before, but hadn’t really gotten a proper look around. The light-colored cobblestone seemed to complement the spacious buildings. The area was once hustling with live stock and crowds for an open market and held a horse market until recently. It now stands still and beautiful from a renovation project in the 90s. It didn’t quite live up to its potential of attracting new crowds, but its quiet anticipation fosters enough space for a cultural district to grow. The dodgyness of the low crowds and unlit overshadowing lights make its merits debatable. Yet I can’t help hope the abandoned amusement park will find its life in days to come. 

Below the tall empty warehouses, is a movie theatre which offers a selection of independent films. As part of my duties as entertainment editor for the student website oxygen.ie, I was invited to a press screening for a film shot in Northern Ireland. Although I had an essay to write, I decided to take a break and see what the film had to offer. I wasn’t expecting much, all I could find with my research beforehand was a trailer, but was sucked in by the movie’s suspenseful journey and creative storytelling. Its message of hope in the darkness of the streets of modern day Derry was very touching. The way it moved me reminded me of this underrated attractiveness Ireland seemed to have. With the locality and small size of the country, great works of art were very accessible. 

      The humble humour of the people also made enjoying this place easier for an outsider like myself. Working together with my group of Irish students on a news bulletin proved this point. When we discovered there were no wireless mics available for the news reader, we used a handheld covered by a laptop, which as my friend commented, made it look like we were producing a bulletin from our basement. When we were struggling to get the green screen to work for the weather segment, we decided to move the camera around to make it look like I was flying around Ireland. Overall we ended up with a fair grade and a finished product produced with many laughs. 

      I’ve definitely learned to enjoy the journey rather than the final destination through my experiences of exploring. After another session of Greek dancing, my friend and I walked to the North side of city centre to try and find a drumming circle I had found on facebook. On the way we saw the sun setting over an old cathedral, different variations of street art, and the prettiest house gardens with amazing smelling flowers. The address we were after took us to an alley way where children were playing outside and my friend said looked like “the projects,” but was thankfully by a bus stop anyways.

The next day we joined DCU’s interfaith center staff and others from the university in hiking Croagh Patrick. The mountain is legend to have been where the saint spent 40 nights in prayer before expelling all the snakes out of Ireland. Some religiously devout climb it barefoot as a pilgrimage and penance at the end of July, but we found even with our shoes on the journey was quite daunting. I was making good pace, teasing my friends who were making frequent stops behind me before we made it to the steepest part of the hill. There were people making their way down with walking sticks as we tried to choose wisely which rocks to trust for the climb. When we did finally make it to the top, the cold wind sent us wanting to head down again. Daleria set in and we were contemplating why “prof pic” was pronounced with a short “o” when profile sounded more like the long “o” in professor. (I know mind blowing stuff). We were as they say “absolutely wrecked” by the time we reached the bus. Luckily the 5 hour hike ended with a 4 course meal and plenty of water. 

       Like the journey up and down the mountain and the suns subtle ascent into Spring, Ireland has taken me down its rocky paths into its warm embrace.