(845) 246-6944
· info@ArtTimesJournal.com
By
Dawn Lille
|
|
Catalonia, a geographical area in northeastern Spain just across the border from
France, and one of the four largest autonomous regions of Spain, has its
own language, Catalan, and a long tradition of folk music and dance. Of the latter, the Sardana, a circle dance
of unknown origins (some have suggested it dates back to the Phoenicians
who at one time occupied parts of this land on the shores of the Mediterranean)
is the best known.May
Catalan
as a language has some words that resemble Spanish, but is more akin to
the tongue of the Provencal region of France and the origins of both are,
basically, unknown.
Barcelona,
the exciting port city that is the heart of Catalonia, is also the center
for the Sardana, which is danced in many of the towns and cities of the
region, especially during festivals. During much of the fascist regime
of Franco (1939-1975) the teaching of Catalan and the publication of literature
or official documents in the language was suppressed, due to Franco’s
desire to create a highly centralized government. Yet, contrary to what
some later reported about the Sardana being banned, it seems to have been
the one manifestation of Catalan identity that was allowed. Possibly,
this was because it was considered a regional dance that contributed to
the depth of Spanish folklore and unity.
Some
traditions are rediscovered and/or reinvented at different periods in
history and for varying purposes.
I first heard about the Sardana in Barcelona and its appearance
in front of the Cathedral every Sunday over 35 years ago, when Franco
was still in power. Due to what is often referred to as “Spanish time,”
my Iberian hosts never got me to a performance. Hence, this was a determined
goal on a recent visit to the city.
|
|
During
the past 15 years the sense of Catalan identity has increased. It is the
first language taught in schools, signs and many brochures in the region
are in Catalan and Spanish, supertitles at the opera are in the former
only. The Sardana has, increasingly, become a symbol of Catalan identity
and pride in a region that considers itself distinct from the rest of
Spain. There has been a campaign for an independent Catalonia for over
100 years. The New York Times reported on March 30th that the
lower house of the Spanish Parliament had agreed to give new powers of
self government to the region.
Thus
it is not surprising that for the past 29 years free lessons in the Sardana
have been offered to children from 6 to 14 years of age. This year the
series of 14 classes, sponsored by a national chain of department stores,
are scheduled every Saturday, March until June, from 10:30 AM to 12:30
PM, in the center of the Plaza Cataluyna in Barcelona. During my visit,
the large inner area of the plaza was roped off and fourteen different
groups, based on age and experience, each with their own instructor, piled
their belongings in the center of their circle, practiced and then danced.
The
Sardana is always performed in a circle, which, when it gets too large,
breaks down into one or more concentric circles, consisting of males and
females. Sometimes these are all male, all female or mixed couples. Arms
are held high, hands clasped, for some sections and lowered for others.
Everyone follows the leader in regard to movement and timing.
The
basic step is small, concise and fairly simple, consisting of an introductory
phrase, then a pattern of stepping and crossing, followed by a light,
rebounding tap of one foot. To
this tap, called a point, is then added a light bounce achieved by raising
and lowering the heel. The bounce can become increasingly higher and a
quickening of tempo, plus different variations of steps, taps, tempi and
directions produces a mathematically complicated work.
The
dance is solemn and elegant. Consisting of ten parts, it is divided into
short steps (cortos) and long steps (largos) and moves alternatively left
and right. The dancers must finish each musical cycle in relation to the
direction in which they are moving and each sequence must end on the correct
foot.
Movement
begins only after the group has listened to the music so that that all
know how many measures it contains and can then follow the leader in ensuring
that the steps coincide with it. The accompanying ensemble, the Cobla,
is a group of eleven musicians that includes a flaviol (a one-handed flute)
that is the lead instrument, a tambor (drum) that sets the rhythm, and
reed and brass instruments that include an oboe and a bagpipe. The meter
varies between 2/4 and 6/8, the tempo between slow and fast, and, stylistically,
the music resembles that of Provence rather than Spain. It is subtle, however, and the dancer must get the basic beat
into his/her own body.
The
official four-page flyer announcing and delineating the lessons is very
exact in giving the rules regarding attendance and lateness. It also gives
a brief description of the ten parts (in Catalan and Spanish) and then
the odd and even steps that comprise the variations. They are mathematical
in organization and very precise. The order and behavior implied here
is carried out in the dancing, where it is not part of accepted etiquette
to join a circle in mid-phrase or to separate partners.
In
the circles of the younger children in the Plaza the leaders had them
listen to the music played on the loudspeaker, then clap the rhythm and,
finally, walk it. They also practiced the touch and quick rebound of the
foot that was to become so important in later steps and in the body as
a whole. The more advanced groups of older children were learning some
of the variations. At the end, the instructors, all members
of the Union of Sardana Groups of Catalonia, gave a demonstration. Here
could be seen the fast, light footwork and levitating bodies and the complicated
variations that could barely be followed by the inexperienced eye. There
was a sense of unity, sureness, daring and exploration – all indicative
of why the Catalan movement is embracing the Sardana.
There
is much other dance in Spain and in Barcelona. There were signs hanging
from lampposts in different neighborhoods advertising performances by
the Batsheva Dance Company of Israel and Tashigawara from Japan, as well
as future events such as Giselle and the great flamenco dancer
Sara Baras. In the old Gothic
neighborhood there is a dance center that offers classes in everything
from Oriental to African and includes hip hop, modern, ballet and contact
improvisation. My teacher for a course in Catalan cooking, Alicia Juanpere,
is a former dancer with the classical ballet company and ran her own school
for many years.
There
was also dancing in the streets: buscars who were breakdancing and one
man on a small platform who was tapping while juggling balls. Additionally,
the Sardana has been immortalized in many works of art. There is a Sardana
monument on Montjuic in Barcelona, a rendering of five dancers in black
surrounded by a white glaze on a ceramic “Jarra,” dated 1956, on view
in the Picasso Museum and a painting by Dali which features the circling
dancers, among numerous other depictions by other artists.
The
Sunday set aside to observe the dancers in front of the Cathedral I arrived
to find a consumers' fair in progress – and no Sardana. There was
a stage on which a wonderful trio of musicians played everything from
jazz to pop, the latter accompanied by five “bopping” girls. More fun
was the very elderly, frail woman, who danced around the plaza without
stop, enticing different young men to join her and causing a circle to
form around their Sardana-like movements. Next time I’ll see them in their
Sunday performance. But how wonderful, as a dancer, to know that dance
can be a political force!