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| Sara Fay Goldman |
This year, we are welcoming the cast of our Day of the Dead celebration, Raíz, to share their experiences in rehearsal with all of you. Today, we hear from actress Sara Fay Goldman, last seen onstage in our 2010 Day of the Dead production, ¡Viva Don Juan!. Be sure to visit the Milagro blog frequently for more updates from Sara Fay and other cast members, as well as interviews with performers and designers, photos, and more!
For the past two Saturdays in the Miracle rehearsal room,
Kelly Carlos, dancer and teacher, has been choreographing the cast of Raíz in a traditional Aztec dance to be featured
in our production. Having been a spectator of such dances (at cultural events
like corn festivals in the Southwestern U.S.) I was struck by the power of
participating in such a ritual. The persistent beat of the drum and repetitive
form had always hypnotized my
uninitiated mind as a child, but the focus required to memorize the chapters as well as understand
the significance of a narrative dance kept me well out of a blank trance. The
results of my efforts were more like what eastern traditions refer to as walking
meditation.
Whereas a seated meditator strives towards peace and focus
by way of stripping away internal stimuli and disciplining the mind to remain
on one theme, a walking (or dancing) meditator takes the opposite approach,
warding off distraction by occupying the mind and body with organized and
sometimes intense tasks. In this case, gathering with a group of supporters,
stimulating the senses of hearing and sight, exhausting the muscles, and
demanding continuously evolving attention to memory, body mechanics, and
gratitude.
This is not to say that a spectator is barred from the
profound experience of the dancer. Quite the contrary: the dance first demanded
I fully invest my body and attention on the narrative because I was learning
something new, but as Kelly pointed out, veteran dancers — whose leg and back
muscles have developed even around this choreography — they may take wrong
steps because they know the dance too well, and slip into muscle memory.
Our choreographer advises us to ward off distraction by investing in the
significance of the dance. These are not to be appreciated as abstract forms
but cultural narratives. In the hope that the reader will participate in our
Day of the Dead festival more fully with some of this knowledge, we share with you here symbolic meaning of the steps which
comprise our dance for Raíz; the dance of the earth.
* * *
The first section, punctuated by a break in the drumming and
a pause from the dancers, is a ritualistic request for permission from the
earth to dance on her surface. You can see the dancers appealing to the earth
in four cardinal directions first with the right foot, then caressing the earth
softly six times with the left, and then pointing to the cardinal directions
again with the left. The request for permission as well as the dance culminate
in kneeling poses: gratitude from the women and power from the men, in the form
of a raised bow.
The dance that follows consists of a base, like a chorus,
alternating with different verses, or flowers, each repeated twice. All together,
the pieces of the dance describe different stages in cycle of the earth’s
power, depicted by a serpent.
In the base, dancers take up gestures of a warrior, miming
holding a shield and weapon. The strong stomps serve to raise heat and energy
in the circle.
The first flower features hopping forward and back in a
gesture of thanks, often indicated by a soft arm, raised palm-up.
The second flower depicts the earth as a life-giving source
of water, shown in cupped hands raised from the earth to the sky.
The third flower mimics the second but the hands follow the
path of a serpent, the embodiment and path of earth’s energy, further
generating heat and energy in the circle.
The fourth flower spins the heat created by the group, and
you may hear yells from the dancers sharing the energy they’ve generated with
each other.
The fifth flower depicts a clay pot used to hold burning
embers, fire being the result of generating energy.
The sixth flower depicts birth, the consequence of
concentrating energy.
The seventh flower is another reminder of the serpent, this
time drawn by the path of the feet, and offers it thanks.