Concentric Circles: Traditional Forms in Contemporary Performance

Celeste Miller (left) in "Hallelujah; Stones Will Float, Leaves Will Sink, Paths Will Cross," the Los Angeles “Hallelujah”

When Liz Lerman met with Nobuko Miyamoto, our Los Angeles collaborator for the "Hallelujah" in that city, one of the first ideas they discussed was the Bon Odori. This is a tradition of religious folk dance associated with the Buddhist Obon festival, which takes place at summer harvest in Japanese farming communities. Immediately, Nobuko and Liz began to consider the Bon Odori form as a choreographic structure for the project. This tradition, which Nobuko has helped to perpetuate on American soil, seemed to resonate on several levels. Bon Odori offered a strong image for Nobuko's community and matched a theme of the Los Angeles "Hallelujah," the evocation of the souls of departed ancestors. Inclusive in spirit, Bon Odori has a history of adaptation. It has expanded its subject matter from reflecting work styles of its rural roots (mining and fishing) to include contemporary themes. The connections to Dance Exchange practice and our own questions about the who, where, what and why of dance, seemed both obvious and rich with possibility.

Dance Exchange company members and local participants of the L.A. "Hallelujah" learned some Bon Odori dances at Senshin Temple, a regular gathering site for the project. The Senshin Bon Odori group was excited to put on the Supremes' "Stop in the Name of Love" for one of the dances. Often our teacher was Harry Sawada, self-defined as the janitor at Senshin Temple, but honored by us as one damn fine dancer.

The Bon Odori dance structure became a choreographic device for the L.A. "Hallelujah." It was used for a section for the religious leaders taking part in the project, and in one rehearsal Harry began composing, on the spot, a new Bon Odori dance to help tell the story of a courtship between a Japanese railroad worker and a white Mormon woman, two of the ancestors invoked by this "Hallelujah." Moreover, this "Hallelujah" opened with a large ensemble in Bon Odori form: two concentric rings of people moving together. Inner and outer circles moved concentrically. Some movements came from early workshop sessions in various community sessions, prompted by the question "What is a small "Hallelujah" in your life?" The responses included images of a river full of fish, candy dropping from the sky and the swirl of a prayer shawl.

The circular shape and the steady, grounded footwork were Bon Odori elements. Contemporary dance contributed tempo shifts, a change of levels that contrasted the inner and outer circles, and a break of the unison movement into theme and variation. The musical accompaniment included Japanese taiko drum and shamisan, Afro-Cuban percussion, Native American flute and western classical cello.

This remarkable spectrum allowed the Bon Odori dancer and the modern dancer to understand the line that contains them both. In a single moment, we all shared the dance, the dancers and the audience. The audience was invited to be comfortable (or comfortably challenged) in watching traditional forms become transfigured in contemporary stage work. Of course it raised questions, ones that we had been asking throughout the project: Who has the right to borrow, or lend, a tradition like Bon Odori? What gets sanctified or secularized when you adapt religious observance to the stage? Where else would this dance be appropriate or inappropriate: in a public plaza in central L.A.? In a distant community with no resident Bon Odori dancers?

These questions came up at other "Hallelujah" sites where traditional forms infused the fabric of the performance: Native American ritual and Mexican Folklorico dance in Tucson, Southeast Asian dance practiced by Hmong teenagers in Minneapolis, and gospel music and church-based praise dance in Detroit/Ann Arbor. But in the simple act of dancing of each other, by each other, for each other; inspired by mutual respect and collaborative craft, the results offered one answer: An eloquent whole that transcended the sum of its parts.

This article was excerpted from "Hallelujah: The Extraordinary Essence in Ordinary Life," published by Liz Lerman Dance Exchange and the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center at Maryland on the occasion of their August 2002 co-production of ""Hallelujah"/USA." Copies of this 32-page, full color publication are available for $10 each plus $3 shipping and handling, from Liz Lerman Dance Exchange, Attn: John Borstel, 7117 Maple Avenue, Takoma Park, Md. 20912.

Celeste Miller is resident artist at Liz Lerman Dance Exchange and project leader for the company's upcoming "Epiphanies" project.

Original CAN/API publication: March 2003