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Afropop producer Sean Barlow went to the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) to talk with the legendary Chuck Davis, dancer, choreographer, teacher as well as founder and artistic director of DanceAfrica that comes to BAM for its 32nd SB: Before you go on, give us a word picture of what SeèWè looks like. SB: He called them white when they’re just light skinned? ![]()
SB: You’re in your 32nd year now; besides your growth in size, what has changed in terms of presentation, the dynamic of doing it, or maybe the awareness of your audience? SB: Would you say you have a target market, for who you’re reaching out to, and who you want to come to DanceAfrica? ![]()
SB: Why is that? SB: I know the main stage performances, of course, but do you also do after hours dance bands? ![]()
SB: You mean pop bands? SB: Congratulations and thank you, it’s not easy to keep things alive. ![]()
SB: So here we are, it’s 2009 last time I checked; what would you like to see at DanceAfrica ten years from now? SB: What’s your perception on the shift in understanding about Africa amongst the common general American population since Barack Obama, who is half African, came to the campaign and then the presidency? How is Africa perceived differently? Chuck Davis Interview for DanceAfrica 2009Interview by Sean Barlow SB: I’ve always said: he is not going to want to appear to be favoring Africa because he is African. So he’ll go to Europe first, then Asia and he’ll go to the Caribbean, but when he gets to Ghana, a million people will be there… ______________________________________________________________ Chuck Davis Interview Part 2 SB: Congratulations on all your achievements and awards. I’m curious about your experience of growing up and the moment when Africa entranced you. And regarding dance, how did you become so captivated to want to devote your life to this? CD: I am brother Chuck Davis, Artistic Director of the African American Dance Ensemble based in Durham, North Carolina. Before, as a result of the Chuck Davis Dance Company which was founded in 1967 in Harlem and the Bronx, came DanceAfrica. Because we were scheduled to be here and we were surrounded by some of the most fantastic artists in the world, we just decided to unite and DanceAfrica was born. I come from Raleigh, North Carolina. And to make a very long story short, I came through, born and bred in what some might call a poor neighborhood in the city. They said we were poor, but we never knew because we had nothing to compare it too; it’s not like you had oodles of money and all of a sudden you had none. We were making due with the land, I raised chickens and ducks and we had our own garden. I was in the Baptist church, and we had a dynamic minister who encouraged the youth to get involved in their school studies, Because we loved him, I think every teenager in the church graduated, none quit school. From then and when I was in school, I really got involved with the drama club. No dance; there were dance studios in Raleigh, but only for the white kids, black kids didn’t have dance in our school. We had the Jabberwock and cheerleading and things like that, but no formal dance classes. From there I went into the Navy, and while in the Navy my interest in dance, other than social dance, began to take shape. SB: Because you were traveling and seeing the world? CD: No, I was a dry land sailor, from Bainbridge to Bethesda, and it was just those two ports of call. And while in Bethesda, I used to go into DC and back in the 50’s we had segregation. So I would go up to U Street which was a black part of town, and that’s where I was at The Dunbar Hotel and experienced Latin American dance with Roland Kave and his Latin-American Allstars, featuring Maria Rodriguez. Mambo and Cha Cha Cha and all of those beautiful dances of that era moved from the Dunbar to the Casbah, and while at the Casbah we formed a small dance troupe, a dance company to perform. And it makes a wonderful story; I wasn’t a member of the troupe, but because I was off duty being a Hospital Corpsman and stationed at Bethesda, I would go in and watch the dancers rehearse and I got to know the artists. The night of the premiere all of the ambassadors from the different embassies had been invited, and most had accepted because the Casbah was really a wonderful nightclub featuring Latin American and Jazz. Then the director had a car accident en route, but the show had to go on because of all the publicity. I was there, so they said “Chuck, you were here, remember that section that Rudy did where Ernestine would leap through the air and he would spin her around and the Pas de Deux” I didn’t know what Pas de Deux meant at that time but I said “Oh yeah I remember that because I was sitting right here.” And they said “Well, you just stand there as a part of the scene, and as Ernestine leaps, you just hold her and just turn around and exit.” They needed the numbers on the stage. But they’re talking to a Capricorn, Ernestine came bounding over, leapt through the air, I caught her, I spun her around and I did a few movements with my shoulders and I set her down, and instead of casually walking off I did whatever I did, but it got applause and that was the wrong thing, or the right thing depending on how you look at it. And so afterwards when the show was over, everybody was talking about it, saying “You’ve got talent.” I felt very good but I returned to the base, and when I came back the next time they said, “We want you to join us.” And I said, “Me? Join you? You all have studied dance, I just went on blood and guts.” They said, “You have something.” And I’m the type, if I want to get involved I have to know what I’m doing. To make an even longer story short, I went and studied some at the Northeast Dance Academy; I studied jazz with Clara Harrington, and classical ballet at the Northeast Dance Academy. SB: This is after you left the Navy? CD: I was still in, but I was a senior corpsman; senior corpsman pull duty once every 34 days from 8 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon, and once that’s over the remainder of the time you were free. So I would rush over to the barracks, change from my uniform, and then jump in my civilian clothes, jump on the bus and go in. I mustered out when I was in Bethesda and I decided to stay in DC. And it turns out; I was working in George Washington University Hospital and I said, “Maybe I would like to be involved in medicine.” So while I was there I was preparing to take classes at Howard in nursing and still working with the dancers, and that was probably my undoing because we formed a trio and we were making big bucks, we were making—back in the 50’s—two hundred, three hundred dollars between Friday and Saturday night. And it was while dancing with the troupe on the day of the march on Washington, we invited Babatunde Olatunji's after the march to come see us. He walked through the door and we danced out behind; it was the La Dalemo Trio—we didn’t know what to name ourselves so we used La to be exotic, and we took the first two letters of our last names, so DA for Davis, LE for Lewis, and MO for Moss; Dalemo Trio—and we had a beautiful reputation all over the city, one for being on time, and two for putting on an exciting show. We had Billy Stewart, God rest his soul, he’s passed on, we had Cool Hands, the drummer and we had Suicide, who was also a musician. On the extra activities, Suicide was a motorcycle racer, and he used to lean on his motorcycle and pick up a handkerchief and things like that, thus the name suicide. But they were our musicians and we did put on a very good show. But Tunji came in, saw us, and said “Okay, you come to New York, you’re hired.” Ronnie had just met a new partner he said he wasn’t going anywhere, and I’m glad he didn’t because he and his partner became real estate barons, and they owned 15-20 houses. Ernestine was a grade six in the government, and she said, I’m not losing my benefit. So that left me, and I don’t know if you’re old enough to remember the Jewel Box Review, that was a female impersonator show that traveled all over the country. But I decided I was going to New York, and one of the stars of the Jewel Box Review was the best friend of one of the African dancers that I knew. So they met me at the Trailways terminal, everyone was helpful getting me setup in an apartment in Manhattan, and I went to rehearsal with Olatunji. And my first performance in New York with Olatunji Dance Company was in front of Malcolm X, because Olatunji used to open for the Nation of Islam’s rounds. SB: What year was that? CD: This was 1963? The same year as the march on Washington, either in October, November. SB: How did Malcolm X react? CD: He loved theater and dance and music, but I’ll tell you how he acted; I was in the dressing area getting ready to go on, and I broke out into hives. I was standing there and I was shaking, nervous. And there are other people in the area but I was shaking and an arm went around my shoulders and said “Okay my brother, everything’s going to be alright.” And it was him. SB: Malcom X? CD: Yes, and that was my introduction to the world of professional dance in New York. I was teaching as time went on at 117 Street, which is very near 117th and Lenox, and very near the mosque. At PS 117 there, Malcom X and later Minister Farrakhan used to come by and watch the class. I refreshed his memory and he laughed he said, something to the effect of “Between then and now you’ve blossomed and grown” or something like that. I went on with Tunji and after I did the world’s fair and it was wonderful, fabulous. We used to go onstage out front, Dabarker was there and he was extolling people to come in and see the fierce warriors. I was dressed as the Ntore or the Watusi, and we had a Zulu, Spike Mafata was representing the Zulus and Marsha Allen was representing the mask from Côte d'Ivoire. We had these powerful warriors there, and one day we were onstage and he was telling everybody about the fierceness of these African warriors. We were standing there with our attitude and we noticed the audience took one step back—he was still talking— they took another step back and then we noticed they weren’t really paying attention to us. Something was happening behind us, which didn’t really phase us because occasionally the dancers would come out and they would be standing upstage or right behind us. Then they began to retreat a little bit faster, so I just casually turned around and as I’m turning to look it was as if a signal was given, all of us turned around and looked. There was a cage with a leopard, and that leopard was coming through the bars! He had gotten about half way through; when we panicked, everybody panicked. I had on my Ntore, that’s the royal Watusi, my headpiece was stuck straight out behind me; you come to see the mighty Zulu warrior, he was moving so fast his ostrich plume was behind him, he passed me as if I was standing still. And later we learned that a little old lady, a grandmotherly type had an umbrella, she went over and hit the leopard on the nose and it retreated back into the cage. But we did not wait, and we were there at the World’s Fair so I had a chance to meet so many artists, musicians, dancers and politicians and all from so many different countries and cultures. My interest had already been peaked by dancing with Tunji, and it just got larger and larger. I left Tunji and began dancing with Eleo Pomare, God rest his soul, he passed this year. Also John Pogs—Alvin Ailey’s lead dancer—Miriam Greaves and Dolores Vanison-Blakely formed the dance company Movements Black, and we work in modern dance but with African influence. That moved on and then I began to teach at the South Bronx Community Action Theater, and while there I met Bess Pruett, who became my manager and confidant. Momma Bess— as we used to call her—was insistent on me starting a dance company. I said I did not want the headaches, because I knew what headaches we as dancers had given Tunji and Eleo and everybody else. It was that one Sunday that we had finished a performance; I went home and sat watching TV and that movie on Tarzan came on, the one where the cast was saying “Ooga booga.” You could see the white in the eye because they had put on Negro Number 3 makeup, and that’s when I decided. It was time to tell the truth about dance and about life and Africa and that it was not “Ooga booga,” and the history of the various dance cultures and cultures and music and on and on. That’s when the Chuck Davis Dance Company was founded at the South Bronx Community Action Theater and we moved from there to the Church of the Master, all in Manhattan and Harlem. And regarding the Church of the Master, Arthur Mitchell had been there first, with Dance Theater of Harlem. He moved up to Saint Marks, and we moved there right after him because the Church of the Master space became too small, and then Saint Marks became too small! Finally we were into The Minisink Townhouse at 142nd and Lenox, and from there it just mushroomed. Then Bronx Community College picked us up and Dr. Roscoe Brown gave us space, and that’s where we were when we were selected to represent the United States at FESTAC, which was held in Nigeria (in 1977.) We were all prepared to go and at the victory party, instead of us celebrating the fact that we leave the next morning, the telegram came that they had messed up the scheduling and we would not be leaving until the following week. If we left the following week—which the company did—I could not go, because we had signed a contract saying as soon as the company returned, we would go to Texas. They said “No, because we have you on the calendar,” so I took the 2nd unit of the dance company to Texas while the first unit was in FESTAC. Andrew Young used my dancers to accompany him as he went around to various venues, and something there happened because one the United States was accused of cheating, by getting a company from Nigeria to represent them and saying they were Americans. So he and the elders came backstage and had all of my dancers talk so he could make sure we’re Americans, and they were so surprised because everything was authentic, the singing and so forth. We were doing a tribute to Nigeria and they could not believe that we were as authentic as we were; so as a result they gave us the 16 Kola nuts. Every morning while they were in FESTAC I was in Texas crying. But they say, when one door closes, another will open. So that was in January and February; in October I made my first trip to Africa because of Hazel Bryant who danced with the International African American Ballet. Hazel’s mother worked at an office building. In this office they had a reception for tourists. Senegal was opening its doors and inviting tourists to come in, so they had this big reception, and two operators were given the chance to come to Senegal. So her mom gave us the flyer, we found the contact and we decided that we were going to Africa. We went to Africa. SB: We meaning your company? CD: No, just Hazel and I, one of the dancers. And I went to Africa for one whole week; we had breakfast, lunch and dinner, we stayed at a tourist encampment where all the dwellings were like huts, but inside they had hot and cold running water, and air conditioning designed for the tourists. We were there for a whole week, roundtrip airfare for 345 dollars. And with my feet touching the soil, I made a pact: every year I’m coming back. Every year since then, thanks be to the All Merciful Creator, I have been to Africa two or three times every year since then. Because I began working with Jim Gross—and his was the Art Safari—when Jim decided to just work with the government and be a tour guide for politicians, I continued and said “It’s going to be the Cultural Art Safari.” I took dancers, musicians, teachers and everybody to Africa to study dance and music, and to find out the origins of many of the rhythms and dance styles that were so popular here. Time went on and on, and its 1977, the time when Chuck Davis Dance Company founded Dance Africa. Everything shifted and worked and we went on celebrating; the original DanceAfricas were to celebrate the fact that we have dance companies, musicians, artists, administrators and everyone here, who were dedicated to maintaining and preserving the traditions born on Africa and spread throughout the world. So we would come together, and (Former Bam President) Harvey Lichtenstein gave us permission to carry it forth here with BAM and it’s been an institution ever since. We have people now who plan their vacation around DanceAfrica. I think it was 1987, ‘88 when we brought in the first dance company from Africa, because up until that point it was all Americans. SB: Which company was that? CD: If I recall correctly it was Rose Marie Giraud from Coite D’Ivoire, then out of that we just went berserk. We’ve had companies from Togo, from Ghana, from Guinea, from Sierra Leone, from Zimbabwe, from Uganda, from South Africa, from Senegal, from Gambia, from Benin, and it has been absolutely fantastic because naturally, when they come in they bring in their culture. We always did the best we could to make sure they were not Paris orientated, wherein they had the Parisian slickness— we wanted a bit of the rawness. They were professional in their attire, the different dances, the history, and they were able to articulate their culture. And then about 12 years ago as a visiting artist came in, we developed a relationship with the Bedford-Stuyvesant Restoration Theater and their youth program. Every company coming from a foreign soil worked with the youth, and the youth would perform with them in DanceAfrica—it was a fantastic union! Sister Peggy, Aunt Karen, and Pat Dye and all of them had maintained that energy and that tradition. Also I left out, not only were we bringing in troupes from Africa, but we brought in a company from Brazil, from Cuba, from Haiti; those were the main three. And in Chicago we had companies from Puerto Rico, and it was just absolutely wonderful. SB: Every year? CD: Every year. And now we are into this economic crisis, so this year here at BAM, instead of bringing in a company from Africa, we are dealing with companies who are extremely authentic, but based here. We have Seéwé, they could walk into any town in Guinea and be accepted, that’s just how strong they are. Farafina Kan has chosen Côte d'Ivoire, Burkina Faso and Guinea, Conakry, as their field of study and research and preservation. We have Ron Brown, ‘Evidence’ to show the contemporary side of traditional dance and of course the kids of Bam/Restoration Danceafrica Ensemble are learning from Abdel Salaam who is the Artistic Director of Forces of Nature Dance Theatre. Abdel took over for me when Duke University in Durham, North Carolina made me— back in 1980—an offer I couldn’t refuse; I moved to Durham to start the second unit of the Chuck Davis Dance Company. Sandy Burton, who is now the director of dance at William’s college, Abdel Salaam, and Normadien Gibson-Woolbright, who since then moved to Durham and is now the assistant stage manager for DanceAfricas all over the country. SB: So when you say DanceAfricas, you mean a festival like this? They’re all over the country? CD: Right like this, they are in Chicago, Dallas, Texas, Washington DC, New York, and they have been in Hartford, Connecticut, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Newark New Jersey, Red Bank, New Jersey, and New Haven. SB: Is it the same principle, where you have companies from all over the United States and sometimes from Africa, bringing them together for the weekend, and have an educational component? CD: Oh we have to have them for at least a week. They always share parts of their tradition with a local troupe. My favorite is to pull a few from each group in the city, let them learn, return to their family or company units, and share, so its not one company receiving all of the knowledge. But it is about sharing, it is about recognizing that it takes more than one person to make the world go round, and that we all can benefit as long as we close our mouth and open our eyes and ears, open our hearts and move forward. And when we go into the villages in Africa or in Cuba or wherever, I go to learn or to audition companies, I don’t walk into a community unless I connect with the elders first. SB: And make sure you greet them properly. CD: Greet them properly, and the world is yours, from then on. And I learned this way back when I first got into it. I knew what to do, but when I got to Africa I made sure that I was always on the case. Because of this, at one point I received more than expected; I had taken the time to learn that this is the way you greet the elders when you come into this community, even though they had elders five miles away who did it differently. But in this community, this is the way it’s done. You need to make sure the elders are well aware of your presence and why you are there. The same thing happened when I was in Nigeria, we were in an area called Epitomodou, and I went in and I greeted the elders properly; I fell down on the ground and the dust—and I’m an American but I knew the traditions, I had no qualms about going because that’s the way you greeted the Oba in that area. When I got up from there, then I was invited to sit next to him. Because I was seated next to him, I had the benefit of his linguist, so everything that was happening, his linguist was explaining to me. I was sitting there wide eyed because I was getting knowledge that I hadn’t even expected to receive. And those type of things, and going there and having that hands on experience was just fantastic. We were in the Gambia; we went to Juffree, where Alex Haley (Roots) gathered all of his information. We were there with Bintu and the other members of the Kunta Kinte family, and from there we went to Theatre Daniel Serano in Dakar, and as you know, many of the famous musicians now, Youssou N’Dour, and Salif Keita came through there. So it’s wonderful. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |