As a child, former New York City Ballet principal Jacques d’Amboise was an unruly street kid with a hyperactive streak, but his sister’s ballet teacher recognized a natural mover and cajoled him into her classes. Eight months later, the humble Madame Seda told d’Amboise’s mother to enroll him in the School of American Ballet, where he could study with “better teachers,” and the rest is history.

It’s telling that this is the teacher whom d’Amboise credits with launching his career—rather than the famous masters with whom he later studied. And he isn’t the only one; the biographies of dance luminaries are rife with early teachers who spotted their innate talent and encouraged them to pursue the artform.

Even more so than Madame Seda, K–12 educators are uniquely positioned to introduce dance to kids who otherwise might never discover it. These teachers know better than anyone how dance can positively influence children socially, emotionally and intellectually—whether or not they become the next d’Amboise. But arts education expert Barry Oreck says K–12 dance teachers’ responsibility goes beyond simply exposing kids to dance. He feels they also have a duty to identify students with natural talent, and make sure those children have access to further study.

“There is so little dance in schools that the idea of offering advanced instruction seems like an either-or decision—either you have a dance
company for highly interested kids, or an introductory exposure for all kids,” admits Oreck, who has worked extensively in NYC schools and is currently an adjunct faculty member at several universities and a consultant for school districts and arts education organizations across the country. “Of course, there should be both. But if we don’t challenge kids who are ready, and give them specialized training that they may not know how to find or afford, then we’re failing potentially talented kids.”

Eighteen years ago, Oreck helped develop a system for assessing dance
talent in public schools. His discoveries tell us a great deal about talent and how to identify it, while challenging some
previous notions about what makes a good dancer. Below, Oreck talks about the process and how to put it to use.

Birth of an Idea

It began when Oreck discovered the Schoolwide Enrichment Model, developed by Joseph Renzulli at the University of Connecticut and widely used in gifted education. Then director of in-school programs at ArtsConnection in NYC, Oreck was assessing an audition-based program that offered public school students weekly dance classes at professional studios. He saw that the program had a high dropout rate, and looked to Renzulli’s model to explain his findings.

“One of the program’s goals was to help students improve in school by offering them special training in something they loved and excelled in,” Oreck recalls. Those selected for the program exhibited creativity, high energy, physical responsiveness and emotional expressiveness—qualities that, while valued in a dance class, can cause trouble in an academic setting.

The students who took dance did not improve in school, as hoped. And as Oreck continued his research, it became clear that “without support from classroom teachers, transferring success from arts to academics was unlikely to happen.”

So, starting in 1990, with a U.S. Department of Education Gifted and Talented grant, ArtsConnection researched and created a new, systematic assessment process based on the Schoolwide Enrichment Model. The system, called the Dance Talent Assessment Process, differed critically in that it included classroom teachers in the selection process. As he observed DTAP in action, Oreck found that many of the students identified as talented made improvements in the classroom. “We altered the teachers’ way of looking at these children,” he explains. “Now they saw them as people with dance ability as opposed to just squirming all the time.”

Defining Dance Talent

Renzulli’s Schoolwide Enrichment Model defines giftedness as “a set of behaviors, not a permanent state of being defined by a test score or other single measure.” It is represented by interlocking rings—above-average ability, creativity and task commitment—with giftedness emerging where the rings intersect. In movement, for example, a child with average natural rhythm and agility, but a beautiful quality of and commitment to movement, as well as a strong work ethic, may be gifted in ways that do not fit traditional definitions of dance talent.

In order to develop procedures and criteria for DTAP, a diverse group of professional dancers and dance educators representing a variety of genres were invited to help define what makes an outstanding dancer. Like Renzulli, they based their criteria on behaviors rather than traditional technique (like turnout), and decided that assessment required a range of activities that allowed every child to show what he or she could do.

The expressiveness category, for instance, includes “shows pleasure in movement,” “performs with energy and intensity” and “communicates feelings.” Other categories include spatial awareness (“adjusts to other dancers and the space”) and perseverance (“doesn’t give up, improves over time”). These descriptors help observers discard “limiting ideas of what a dancer looks like,” Oreck says.

Interest is Key

Oreck downplays the word “talent,” and instead focuses on who is ready for more challenging instruction at a
particular time. There isn’t a “one-to-one correlation between interest and talent, but it’s pretty close,” he says. “We tend to be drawn to the things we’re good at.”

Other people can be interested in something but have little talent for it. This is often indicated by loss of interest and quitting as instruction advances.

Most of the children Oreck assessed in public schools had no formal dance training. With that in mind, the broad range of skills outlined in DTAP’s criteria could be assessed only through full involvement in several dance classes. He says it ideally takes several weeks to evaluate everyone equally.

“A small number of kids you’ll notice in the first 10 minutes; you’re drawn to them,” Oreck says. “Some things are obvious—coordination, rhythm, ease of picking up movement. But children who have different sorts of abilities, interests and backgrounds take longer to notice.” After a few weeks, some students are ready for greater challenges, while others, even those who meet some of the criteria, would just as soon quit. Thus, the in-depth, multi-week assessment structure is a better predictor of success in a challenging dance program, and has been shown to boost retention.

Even so, Oreck emphasizes that DTAP is only a “strong indication” of talent, adding that “it takes a year or two of instruction before a student’s full potential and desire is developed.”

Putting Assessment to Work

As any dance teacher who has tried to conduct systematic assessment knows, it’s difficult for one person to both lead a class and assess at the same time. Ideally, two artists—one teaching, one observing—along with the classroom teacher, conduct the assessment.

Since this isn’t always possible, teachers who work alone may choose to assess over a number of sessions, concentrating on a few children on any given day or for a particular activity. The key is to structure the assessment activity to be able to watch, rather than having to lead at all times.

Some school-based dance teachers have collaborated with other in-school specialists—a music or drama teacher, the gifted education specialist or a classroom teacher with a dance background—to help.

When assessment reveals a group of talented dancers, it may motivate some schools to create a dance club or a
student dance company as an elective. Short-term workshops that rotate throughout the grades may be developed to serve those not initially selected for advanced instruction, and students should have the opportunity to be re-evaluated in subsequent years.

In addition, Oreck notes, “we found that nothing motivates parents more than knowing their child is talented.” It begins at parent-teacher conferences with the classroom teacher explaining, “Your child is good at dance. This is something you can help support.” Once the assessment is explained, children are more likely to enroll in local studios or other dance programs.

Other Benefits

School-based dance teachers see hundreds of kids a week, and it can often be hard to learn names. In Cleveland, dancer Tom Evert taught for a year in two schools. In one he used the assessment process, and by the end of the year, he knew all the children by name and was able to easily pick who he wanted to participate in a professional performance. At the other school, he admitted, the kids were a blur.

DTAP criteria can also be used to create a grading system. While grading in the arts is always tricky, DTAP’s observable, defined criteria allow teachers to confidently produce performance-based assessments of their students rather than resort to traditional, but perhaps less relevant, academic methods.

Another important benefit of this process is how it changes classroom teachers’ perceptions of their students. “The teachers were actually very good at being able to observe and identify kids with dance talent based on the carefully designed lessons,” Oreck recalls. “It took a few sessions, but they got very close to the professionals in terms of their observations and vocabulary. And when teachers saw how
successful some of their struggling students were in dance, they were much more open to using some of these techniques in their own teaching practice.”

Oreck is skeptical, however, of much of the research suggesting a direct transfer from learning in the arts to improvement in other academic areas. “There are lots of ways that dance can help kids understand things, but I don’t think that learning in dance inevitably translates to improved math or reading,” he says. Rather, arts integration—the blending of the arts and curricular subject matter—only works when it helps make links. And the classroom teacher is critical to making those links, which is why bringing teachers into DTAP was crucial to the success of the process.

A Lasting Impact

Though the grant ended in 1996, DTAP continues to be used in several interesting ways. ArtsConnection has used it to help classroom teachers understand and appreciate the kind of learning that takes place through dance, and another program is using dance to examine language acquisition.

In this model, a teaching artist works with students while classroom teachers observe, using a checklist of characteristics and behaviors to understand more about how children acquire language skills.

Meanwhile, districts across the country have adopted the process to select students for arts magnet schools that want to attract those with and without formal training. The state of Ohio has adapted DTAP as its official dance screening for identifying children for gifted and talented programs.

There’s no question that arts education is a limited resource. But Oreck seeks to assuage critics who fear that talent assessment may result in limiting access only to those with a natural aptitude. “Of course all children should have dance, but for some it’s an essential part of making them successful in school, and making school a place where they want to be,” he says. “I don’t want to limit instruction to a general, introductory level. Just like advanced math or reading, I’d like there to be some advanced dance in school.” DT

Teaching artist Carrie Stern, PhD, writes “Dance Brooklyn” for the Brooklyn Eagle. 

When Diane Jacobowitz launched a preprofessional New York City troupe called Kids Company, for ages 12 to 18, she invited choreographer Mark Morris to mount excerpts from his piece L’Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato. Morris was astounded by the young dancers’ response to his choreography. “I want every member of my company to see this,” he announced after watching them perform. “They need to dance with this same innocence, simplicity.”

Since then, the members of Kids Company have worked with such choreographers as Bill T. Jones, Doug Varone, David Dorfman and Twyla Tharp—pretty serious territory for tweens and teens, some might say. Yet the idea that youngsters are capable of working with sophisticated material, and hungry for meaningful experiences, is central to the vision behind Dancewave, the Brooklyn-based organization Jacobowitz has been building for more than a decade. “Kids can go to a really deep level,” she says. “It’s an incredibly exciting process, one that children are capable of at an earlier age than we thought. This is the magic of Dancewave.”

Kids Company is just one facet of Dancewave, which Jacobowitz founded in 1995. While not all of its programs are geared toward dancers with professional aspirations, it strives to offer all students the same challenging yet supportive atmosphere that has made Kids Company so successful.

Dancewave’s other initiatives include Kids Company II, Kids Café Festival, summer intensives, an after-school program and an arts-in-education program called D-Wave in Motion. And this past spring, after years of searching, Dancewave found a permanent home. The Center at Dancewave, located in Brooklyn, houses the organization’s numerous programs, as well as a full schedule of classes for ages 3 through adult, including creative movement, modern, ballet, tap, jazz, hip hop, yoga and Pilates.

Seeking a Deeper Experience

It all began when Jacobowitz, a dancer and choreographer, was teaching at Long Island University, running her own dance company and caring for her 2-year-old daughter. She realized she couldn’t devote her full attention to both parenting and the company, and let the troupe go. She started teaching dance at a private school, but something was missing. Then, in a “eureka” moment, Jacobowitz knew what she wanted: a place where young, diverse dancers from all over the city could gather for a “professional experience.”

The Kids Café Festival came first, in January 1995. Open to all interested students and youth dance groups, the annual event produces works by and/or for children. Its diverse lineups of performances and workshops have drawn young dancers from all over NYC and as far as Germany. Each festival’s theme is tied to a host company that leads a workshop and performs in afternoon concerts; recent hosts have included hip-hop company Rennie Harris PureMovement and Afro-Brazilian dance and music ensemble OGANS.

Jacobowitz noticed that many students returned to the festival each year, eager for what it offered. “They were hungry for a deeper experience that I didn’t see anywhere around me,” she says. Convinced of the need for more challenging opportunities, she conceived the idea for a company of children
modeled on a professional dance troupe.

Nurturing and Challenging

Enter Kids Company, in 2000. “They’re working on a professional level, but they’re learning life skills as well,” Jacobowitz explains. “It’s an immersion program where dance transforms heir lives.”

This immersion in professional work establishes an environment in which sophisticated dancing is the norm. Jacobowitz thinks it helps that, unlike adults, young dancers “embrace physicality without thinking. They become sophisticated because they experience a huge array of different artists all the time. The exposure is mind-opening.”

Jacobowitz sees Kids Company as a link between modern dance’s past and future, and wants to make sure her dancers know that history not just through reading and lectures, but also with their eyes, ears and bodies. Dancers and parents go on field trips to see
concerts by the choreographers they work with and by the canonical founders. “I tell them, modern dance is like a folk art,” Jacobowitz says. “The history is in the body.”

Auditions are required for Kids Company, though Jacobowitz already knows most who try out. Those she doesn’t know she watches carefully, looking not only for technique but to see if “their hearts speak through dance, if it’s their passion. That’s what drives dancers to become great. If they want it, I’ll be there for them.” She makes a point to know not only her young dancers, but also their families. If she sees a child losing commitment, she tries to find out why. About a third of the company is on scholarship, as are many in Dancewave’s other programs.

“It’s the right measure of nurturing and challenging that are the ingredients for success,” she says. “Kids need to know you believe in them. They’re so vulnerable at this age, insecure about their bodies, their peers. The first hump is to get them in the room, to make them feel empowered; it’s all easier after that.”

Still, she says, the company isn’t for everyone. “For some the program is too rigorous, but most stick it out. They grow up with me. It’s moving.”

Looking Ahead

Jacobowitz is still waiting and watching to see how the alumni of Kids Company will fare in the professional world. To date, one student was invited to join DanceBrazil immediately upon graduation. Most go on to college and find a way to dance, whether or not they choose to major in it. Chafin Seymour, a graduating member of this year’s Kids Company, created his first professional-length work for the company’s spring concert. He’ll enter Ohio State University’s dance department this fall. Jackie Dodd, a 2005 graduate, is a dance and anthropology major at Washington University.

Meanwhile, Dancewave continues to grow. Recently, Jacobowitz added Kids Company II, a less intensive group for children not ready to make the commitment to Kids Company. The troupe performs works by up-and-coming choreographers like Andrea Woods, artistic director of Brooklyn-based Souloworks, and Astrid von Ussar, a well-known choreographer in her native Slovenia who now teaches and choreographs in the U.S. Participation in Kids Company II requires only a recommendation from an instructor.

Dancewave also sponsors a popular summer intensive that focuses on technique and composition. This year’s session (for 10- to 18-year-olds) is scheduled for August 18–29; a new, advanced intensive will take place August 11–22.

Today, many studios offer high-quality performance opportunities for students; some even follow Dancewave’s model, asking professional choreographers to create works for their young dancers. But it was Jacobowitz’s vision that proved this was possible. After 13 years, she is still excited by the process. “I guide the dancers,” she says, “and they continue to teach me, to enrich my life.” DT

Teaching artist Carrie Stern, PhD, writes “Dance Brooklyn” for the Brooklyn Eagle and other publications.

Photo by Maribel Arce.

Erick Hawkins (1909–1994), the first of several major choreographers in what is sometimes called the third generation of modern dance, created a radical body of work known for its free-flowing vocabulary and an  effortlessness that belied the rigorous training underlying it. Highly literary, Hawkins left behind writings that detail a comprehensive, cohesive theory of dance and related arts. In his major work, The Body Is a Clear Place, Hawkins calls modern dance “a voyage of discovery . . . to somewhere we have never quite been before.” 

The son of an inventor, Hawkins began his dance voyage at age 15 when he left Trinidad, Colorado, for Harvard University. Tall and slender with a hawk-like nose, he majored in Greek literature and art, which would become lifelong choreographic inspirations. At 17 he fell “tenderly, ardently” in love with a picture of Isadora Duncan. The photograph spurred him to attend a New York concert by the German Expressionist dancers Yvonne Georgi and Harald Kreutzberg, which changed his life. 

After graduation, he enrolled in the newly established School of American Ballet, joining both the American Ballet and Ballet Caravan, predecessors of New York City Ballet. These emerging institutions exposed Hawkins to legends such as Lincoln Kirstein and George Balanchine. In the summer of 1935, Hawkins met Martha Graham when their companies were both in residence at Bennington College’s first Summer School of Dance. Two years later, Graham asked Hawkins to join her company, the first man invited to do so. During his time with the troupe, Hawkins originated several iconic roles,   such as Ringmaster in Every Soul Is a Circus and the Husbandman in Appalachian Spring. They were married in 1948 but separated in 1950.

Hawkins’ philosophy about dance can be traced as much to the great Indian dancer Shanta Rao as to ballet and his time with Graham. Watching Rao, he recognized a fierce, almost reckless essence in her movement—a quality he did not find in ballet. “[Ballet] was too much like a diagram,” he wrote in The Body Is a Clear Place, “and, for me, too much of the indescribable pure poetry of movement had to be left out.” He attributed this schematic quality to the fact that ballet was developed in a culture that emphasized theory and held “unsensuous” attitudes toward the body. 

Hawkins’ own attitudes toward the body were anything but. With his insistence on simply costumed, barelegged dancers, the sensuousness of the human body was on prominent display. Hawkins’ Greek Dreams, with Flute (1973), for example, portrays topless nymphs in sheer, pale-blue pleated Grecian tunics and nearly naked satyrs and athletes. Like much of Hawkins’ work, Dreams plays on contrasts between male and female bodies in motion. Exuberant men display the beauty of their bodies in Hawkins’ wide-armed, bent-legged leaps. Sinuous women contract, then open to flow along curved paths. “Beautiful dancing,” he said, is always about the “physical and psychological delight of men and women together.”

Despite the soft, fluid, serene, almost effortless look, Hawkins’ movement required substantial strength and specialized technique. Taking a released and sustained approach to the basics of Graham technique, he created a technique known for its “directed, free flow of movement initiating from the center,” according to Renata Celichowska, author of The Erick Hawkins Modern Dance Technique. Occurring “in measured time, its hallmarks are lightness, varied dynamics and clarity. Putting these qualities together is Hawkins’ great contribution to dance training.” 

A cluster of fundamental principles underlies the technique, giving the choreography its unique look. The key concept—and the secret behind a Hawkins dancer’s unbound, soft muscled quality—is contraction and de-contraction. This does not imply movement that is not performed fully; rather it suggests using only the effort required to perform efficiently. “Tight muscles cannot feel,” Hawkins often admonished. “Only effortless, free-flowing muscles are sensuous.” 

Other Hawkins principles include initiating and controlling movement from the body’s pelvic center of gravity; swinging the legs from high in the hip socket to activate lightness and freedom; finding the body’s midline through the spine’s four curves—cervical, thoracic, lumbar and sacral—allowing for efficient spinal alignment; pelvic pathways following under and over curves; and momentum recognized in curves, loops and spirals. These unique principles develop dancers who, even when not literally leaping, soar “indirectly, through furtive delicacy based on asymmetrical patterning; balances that look natural yet are not taken for granted; an energetic attitude of being held in suspension,” notes critic Molly McQuade. This sensation of flight, shared with the audience, is a Hawkins signature. He explored the theory of “coenesthesia,” or a commonly felt state of sensation which he discovered in the writings of French philosopher Hubert Benoit. For an audience to both see and feel a dance, Hawkins believed dancers themselves must be totally immersed, honestly inhabiting their sensation, feeling the air as they move. 

Like Graham, Hawkins was interested in classic themes and “pure movement poetry.” Intense, dramatic, streamlined and often ceremonial, his works reflect the iconography of the American West, Greek Classicism and Asian cultures. Classic Kite Tails (1972) plays on the floating, darting qualities of flying kites. In the mythic Plains Daybreak (1979), masked dancers portray abstracted incarnations of the dawn denizens of America’s Great Plains. Hawkins’ exacting attention to production values—live music and original, artist-made sets and costumes—led to lifelong working relationships with many famous 20th-century artists. 

In addition to his choreography, Hawkins left a powerful, varied living legacy in the dancers and choreographers whom he influenced. In 1951, he established a school that lasted until his death and a company that is still operated by former company dancer Katherine Duke. His yearly workshops, run with his longtime musical collaborator and wife Lucia Dlugoszewski, whom he met and married after his divorce from Graham, encompassed technique, repertory and composition and created a safe space for each dancer to discover his or her “inner dancing self.” Among the dancemakers who passed through Hawkins’ company was African-American choreographer Rod Rodgers. Choreographers Nancy Meehan and Gloria McLean, lead Hawkins dancers and teachers, both adapted Hawkins’ aesthetic to their own, very different work. Another company dancer, Jim Tyler, founded Mangrove, a seminal contact improvisation group in San Francisco. 

Many Hawkins dancers and students, influenced by his methods and ideas, segued into careers in bodywork and healing. Injured early in his career, Hawkins concluded that something was wrong with Western dance training. If America was to usher in a “new dance,” he wrote, “it must be based in science.” From kinesiology, as well as the work of Mabel Todd and the Chinese concept of yin and yang, he recognized that a hard-working body works better, with less risk of injury, if it learns to rest. Hawkins’ ideas inspired former company dancers Andre Bernard, a founder of ideokinesis, and Bonnie Cohen, the developer of the Body-Mind Centering technique. Michael Moses, motivated by Hawkins’ statement, “how your body feels affects how you feel about life,” became a physical therapist. Trained in Laban Analysis, former company member Brenda Connor works as a movement analyst for the Department of Defense. “Erick’s ideas profoundly influenced how I understand the link between movement and the behavior of leaders all over the world,” she says.

A month before his death, while still choreographing, Hawkins received the National Medal of Arts from President Clinton. “Erick knew that humans need beauty,” writes McLean. “His greatest hope was that through dance, humans could understand their humanity.” Alan Kriegsman, former critic at The Washington Post, called Hawkins “a performer of extraordinary magnetism and power, a maker of a body of dance-theater works of indelible originality, beauty and poetic incandescence.” His most powerful legacy, however, resides in the bodies and minds of his dancers and students. DT

The Erick Hawkins Dance Company continues to perform under the direction of Katherine Duke, a member of Hawkins final company. Hawkins technique is taught at the 92nd Street Y in New York City.

Teaching artist Carrie Stern, PhD, writes “Dance Brooklyn” for the Brooklyn Eagle and other publications. 

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