The last faint notes of music are washed out by applause as the lights are killed. People onstage quietly rush off, making way for the next act. They are sweating, gulping air, already thinking about their next combination. They have been throwing themselves around the stage for several minutes, and they must be flawless for the audience’s gratification. They are dancers.
Oct. 13 is opening night for Allan Hancock College’s “Dimensions in Dance,” a show that’s run annually for the last 35 years in the Marian Theatre. Dianne McMahon said the premise is to present an eclectic selection of dances. The audience will be treated to everything from hip hop to folkloric.
The dancers bringing the show to life are as variable as the dances themselves, and include former athletes, such as Jowey Koltes, and the children of dance instructors, such as Rachel Humbles. Jamal Winder comes from a family that makes every effort to support him, while other performers have parents who say they only come see their kids dance because they have nothing better to do.
Some of the dances are loose and flowing, others tight and explosive, violent and breathtaking. But it’s a display fewer and fewer people are seeing.
Times are changing, and whether it’s lack of interest from the public or just another effect of the economic crunch, attendance is down. Larissa Nazarenko, a dance instructor at Allan Hancock College, laments the fact that 20 years ago almost all of the “Dimensions” performances sold out quickly. For the last decade, students and staffers have been left biting their nails, wondering if they’ll have to cancel a showing due to insufficient sales.
Years ago, the show opened on Wednesday night, but that weeknight’s performance was cut when its audiences dwindled. Organizers replaced the cut showing with a Saturday matinee, though that, too, is now struggling.
Despite the clouds of uncertainty, students and staffers commit themselves to the project with zealous fervor. From auditions to final curtain, the show is an eight-week avalanche of activity.
It begins with the choreographer’s vision. Prospective dancers submit their paperwork, are photographed, and attend orientation, just to make sure they know what they’re getting themselves into for the next eight weeks.
Then they start to move.
Dancers are expected to display competency in hip hop, jazz, ballet, and modern dance styles—and, if necessary, tap and folkloric. For 2 1/2 hours, they labor under the gaze of the choreographers looking for that special something, that life, that style, that energy a dancer can bring to a piece.
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“The worst part of auditioning is being nervous,” said Chris Cortez.
Selected dancers begin learning their combinations. They’ll often have two, three, or even four combinations to learn while still being committed to jobs and school.
Cortez is dancing in four of the pieces while taking four classes and working 20 hours a week. Diana Aguilara is studying to be an aeronautical engineer. She has nine hours of rehearsal a week, four units of dance, and 24 educational units on top of that.
As the opening draws nearer, the dancers are given another burden: tech calls. They’re tasked with a long list of to-do’s, including laying the floor, prepping props, hanging posters, sewing, ticket sales, and mini performances.
“You get really used to being exhausted,” Emily Myers said while working on Hannah Elston’s hair.
One thing audience members should know is that they’re in for a special treat. The Marian Theatre is a three-quarter-thrust stage, which means the audience surrounds the show. Viewers are up close and personal with the dancers. The choreographers have to keep the layout in mind as they design their combinations; nothing is ever out of sight.
And that’s not just because of the type of stage.
“Dancing is how I express what I’m feeling when I can’t say what I’m feeling,” dancer Humbles said.
“All those words that you can’t express, you can through movement,” Courtney Winder said while watching a recent rehearsal. “This is the only way you can reach people without words.”
This year’s show boasts 58 dancers and upward of 30 non-dance crew members dealing with lights, sound, photos, print shop, and costuming. All of it comes together in a whirlwind.
After seven weeks of punishing effort, the show opens. Fatigue and the pain of injuries, hunger, worries about grades, relationships, and financial struggles are washed away by pressure and adrenaline. The curtain rises, they step on stage, and there’s no time for thought. It’s pure, undefiled motion.
“I think that I am physically addicted to dancing,” Elston said.
With pieces ranging from alien beauties to birds in business suits, this year’s “Dimensions in Dance” has something for everyone to enjoy.
While the dancers aren’t competing against others in a sport, they are living out that verb in one sense: to wear or display. Though they’re costumed, they bare their souls for all to see as they display grace and beauty, strength and flexibility, coordination and timing, along with years of dedication.
Intern Michael McCone bared more than his soul for this week’s lead art story. Contact him at intern@santamariasun.com
This article appears in Oct 13-20, 2011.