From The Nutcracker to synchronized skillets, Knoxville's dance scene is surprisingly diverse—and mostly healthy.

by Adrienne Martini

As you descend the carpeted stairs, the sound of the Vince Guaraldi Trio's "Linus and Lucy" wafts up. And giggling. Lots of giggling.

The "Under Fives" are on the Dancer's Studio rehearsal stage, which is really nothing more than a big basement room with a suspended wooden floor, white walls, a few barres, and overhead fluorescents. Instructor Irena Linn is putting them through their paces, when she can actually get the attention of this room full of little girls. The girls are decked out in standard dance wear—tights, leotards, and wispy ponytails—and are cute enough to make any child-phobic want to adopt one of them. They pair up, with an older child keeping track of a younger child.

Irena herself is a ball of energy, almost as if the electricity of her young charges rubs off on her. She looks like the prototypical dancer with her gray hair pulled back into a neat braid, dressed in a black leotard, white tights, and voluminous long black taffeta skirt.

When she claps, which she does frequently and rhythmically, the girls concentrate for as long as they can. This is where dance training and a lifetime love for the form starts, with kids skipping and galloping and running in a small studio, coached by an instructor who lives for her job.

"They are the heart of the matter," Linn says, her German accent lending a crisp punch to her words.

While these young dancers may be what keeps fresh blood flowing into the performance dance scene in Knoxville, it is difficult to get a clear picture of the extremities they provide nourishment to. This city is rich in dance opportunities, with over a dozen companies that have specialties ranging from classical ballet to experimental modern. But these dancers thrive in only small pockets; most Knoxvillians probably would be stumped if asked to name more than one production that has taken place in the past year (and that show would probably be The Nutcracker.)

Still, there are companies out there that provide outlets for the Under Fives—whether they grow up to dance professionally or evolve into audience members. But they can be hard to find for the uninitiated. What would seem to be missing from the scene is a good dose of PR to introduce the public at large to the forms of dance that go on in local studios and debunk the perception that dance is dull, high-brow fodder.

There are many companies producing wonderful work, like the Appalachian Ballet whose Nutcracker opens this weekend, or UT's Cultural Attractions Committee, which brings in tours like the River North Dance Company. But an examination of four producing bodies (The City Ballet, Tennessee Children's Dance Ensemble, UT's dance program, and Circle Modern Dance) provides an interesting, and at times disheartening, cross-section of all the challenges and triumphs dance as an art form faces in Knoxville.

The Prima Ballerina

"One thing that I have always found interesting about Knoxville," says Ginger Cook, executive director of The City Ballet, "is that we have probably the best arts in the region and we don't tell anybody about it. We tend to take it all for granted. What we don't realize is that it is incredibly expensive to do these art forms that add so much to the cultural vitality of our community. We are very lucky to have all of this stuff."

For the last 11 years, The City Ballet has produced three full-length classical ballet productions per year. This season is chock-full of the standards: the perennial The Nutcracker runs Dec. 11-13, Cinderella plays Feb. 20-21, and the cornerstone of old-school ballet Swan Lake is March 27-28. Classical ballet is a big-budget affair, full of mammoth sets, extravagant costumes, and high-maintenance ballerinas. It takes an army of people to bring these productions to the stage, and Knoxville does not have the resources to provide all of the required soldiers.

But Tulsa, Oklahoma does. Tulsa Ballet is a dream of a company, full of international dancers and a talented artistic director who is willing to share. All of The City Ballet's performances are developed by Tulsa support staff and performed by Tulsa dancers. All Knoxville needs to do is provide some additional support.

"Our total annual operating budget is about $580,000," Cook says. "Tulsa Ballet's is $2.5 million. But they do five productions in Tulsa, and we do three productions here. And I think we're getting a lot better deal.

"Most of that money goes into the community here, because we have to pay the orchestra, the stagehands, the auditorium, wardrobe, advertising costs—all of those things. We spend $22,000 per year at the Hyatt Hotel. Of our total budget, a little over $400,000 goes to production expenses here.

"It's really very economical because we could not afford to support a $2.5 million ballet company in Knoxville. It's a good way for us to have professional ballet in Knoxville, and it helps Tulsa increase their yearly contract with their dancers, so they're able to go out into the international community and hire really quality dancers."

It is wonderful, granted, that classical ballet is getting big productions, most of which are housed in the Civic Auditorium, in this mid-sized town. But, due to rehearsal constraints—after all, the principal dancers are only in town for the week before the performance—local dancers only really have the chance to dance in The Nutcracker, and then only if they are children.

And are the ballets that company chooses really the ones people most want to see? Sure, they have name recognition, but they neglect the modern compositions that have kept the form vital and alive.

Dorothy Hirsch is a lover of dance. She grew up in New York City and retired in Knoxville over 11 years ago. While she may not be a leading expert in the field, she has seen almost every major performance to come through this town since she has been here. She praises what The City Ballet has accomplished, but still feels that it could provide more.

"I wish that they'd come another time," Hirsch says, "instead of three weekends I wish they'd come four weekends, and that in the fourth weekend they would present ballet from the 20th century. I like the 19th century, I love it. I mean, Tchaichovsky's score to Swan Lake is some of the most beautiful music ever written in history, but I think that people would be astounded if they saw a Balanchine ballet. A Jerome Robbins ballet. Twyla Tharp. They'd think 'My God! This is really great!' But they never get a chance to see it. All they do is bring the 19th century story ballets."

There may be, however, some method to The City Ballet's safe choices. Given that 53 percent of its income comes from ticket sales, it is in the Ballet's best interests to provide what most of the people want most the time. The Nutcracker is the bread and butter of their season and generally sells so well that, this year, a fourth performance has been added. And, despite recurrent rumors of financial instability, The City Ballet has operated in the black for nine of its 11 years, according to Cook.

So why should anyone come see what The City Ballet has to offer? Cook offers this response: "There's a quote that the founding artistic director of the Tulsa Ballet has used, she said that 'dance is the breath of life made visible.'" Ballet, however, is also the foundation of dance made visible. Most Western forms spring from the rigid positions and glamorous leaps of ballet, techniques that dancers spend decades perfecting.

Above all else, ballet live is a completely different animal than on a PBS special. In performance, in person, you can see the work that goes into each spin and lift, hear the hard thump of wooden-toe shoes hitting the wooden stage, and watch the sweat run off of a doll-like ballerina. It's almost like an artistic football game set to music and full of extravagant beauty.

A Success Story

Judy Robinson, managing director of the Tennessee Children's Dance Ensemble (TCDE), is crammed behind a long folding table in the company's offices, which are tucked behind a health food store on Sutherland, above the Dancer's Studio. Posters from past shows, framed awards, and casual snapshots line the walls. Most of the garage sale-esque furniture is buried beneath bags of costumes and left-overs from the previous night's fund-raiser.

The surroundings belie the fact that the TCDE is one of the more successful dance companies in the state and was named Goodwill Ambassadors by Gov. Ned McWherter in 1982—a distinction the company still holds. But many folks still aren't aware of TCDE's existence.

"We are the best kept secret in Tennessee," Robinson says.

The company was founded in 1981 by Dr. Dorothy Floyd and its first big performance was at the 1982 World's Fair. By the mid-'80s, the troupe had traveled internationally, giving performances that were well received. ("One of the first things we did is we toured Japan," Robinson says. "We were just a huge success. It was like being with Elvis Presley.") Floyd's followers speak of her in almost reverential tones, the kind generally reserved for great leaders.

"Dr. Dorothy Floyd, who is the artistic director and the lifeblood and vital force behind the company, believed that children could achieve artistic excellence equal to adults. At that point, everybody thought of children as recitals and what we laughingly call toe, tap, and baton. You have these preconceived ideas from where you been drug kicking and screaming to a recital that lasted six hours, where they locked you in and wouldn't let you out. We've had a lot to overcome over the years," Robinson says.

"Our name, I think, is the worst, it's been a hindrance as well as a help. People think 'Ah, Tennessee children...it's a recital. Or cloggers. Over the years, our reputation has preceded us and people know who were are," Robinson adds.

Currently, the company is made up of a couple dozen kids between the ages of 8 and 17, all of whom—according to the group's charter—must be Tennessee residents; as a practical matter, most live within 60 miles of Knoxville. The kids take three company classes, which are essentially rehearsals for upcoming performances and drills on technique, per week. They perform over 40 times a year, including a series of spring shows at the Tennessee Theatre, and are popular enough to book their gigs a year in advance. Funding comes from grants through the Tennessee Arts Commission, the City of Knoxville and Knox County, as well as ticket sales, private donations, and fund-raisers. Despite its success, the company keeps its overhead to a minimum, as evidenced by the crammed offices and staff of four.

"You've got to do it because you love it," says Robinson, who also has a degree in law and practices part-time. "It's not something that's going to make you rich. If I wanted to be rich, I'd practice law. We have a fire and a love for what we do and a belief that it really makes a difference. Everywhere they go people think differently about Tennessee and her cultural resources. They think differently about what children are able to do."

What these kids have been able to do is evident in their performances. The TCDE specializes in modern dance, which looks somehow earthier and more organic since it does not have the strict forms of ballet and seems to flow like mercury from one position to the next. And TCDE's performances capture the giddy excitement of the young dancers while maintaining impeccable technique. This is dance that is accessible, partially because of the company's choice of music and subject matter; some pieces in their repertoire include An Ode to Janet Jackson and Square Dance, as well as numbers choreographed to mountain songs and Mozart compositions.

"I would say you should go see the TCDE because it's going to blow you away," says Robinson. "It's going to destroy any preconceived notions you have about children and any preconceived ideas you might have about modern dance as being high-brow or boring. We have a guarantee. If you go and you don't think it's wonderful, I'll give you your money back. We've never had a taker."

A Vanishing Tradition

While Knoxville has at least one great outlet for kids who dance, adults who dance or love to watch it are often left out of the loop. If a grown-up wants a place to perform or continue her or his training, where can they go?

Usually, the most obvious avenue for continuing education would be an institute of higher education. But, even though we have a big one in our own backyard, it is no longer offering a dance major. Head of Dance Dr. Gene McCutcheon explains why:

"The university said that we were not graduating a large number of students. With 35 majors, you're only going to graduate maybe three or four, maybe five a term. If you're not graduating 50 students or so, they don't think it's enough. They don't understand the arts very well," she says with a laugh. Her office is a veritable museum of UT dance, from certificates of appreciation to current class schedules. Two bumper stickers are jauntily slapped to a metal filing cabinet—"Emotion in Motion" and "I'd rather be dancing."

"I get calls to find out if we have a dance major, which we do not have right now. We had one from 1979-88," she explains. "We're hopeful and we have about 35 dance minors at the present—a large majority of those would be dance majors, if we had a dance major."

The university, however, is able to fill some roles in the Knoxville dance scene. Individual classes in jazz, ballet, and modern are offered and McCutcheon herself is a great resource, since she has been teaching and dancing for the last 27 years. She can still speak to what UT does have to offer adult dancers in the community.

"I think we [UT] have a number of different roles as far as dance is concerned. One, of course, is education. Most students who come to the university and take dance classes have had dance in studios previously, and they want to continue their dance education. Some of them may be going for some type of profession involving dance, or just because they enjoy it. "

"Our facilities are used by a lot of groups in the community, like Circle Modern Dance. Of course, that is ending now because of the building being closed."

Currently, what is left of the dance program is housed in Alumni Gym, which will be closed in the next few weeks so that the building can be renovated. The studio of which McCutcheon speaks is a great, airy space with plenty of room for dancers and performances, and will cease to be a usable space until the renovations are complete. At this point, the dance department is unsure of just how much space will be available once they move back in.

"At this university, I've often wondered—there are a lot of people, a lot of faculty here at the university that are very supportive of dance and feel that dance should be fully funded. Of course, some people take the attitude of, 'This is a research university in the sciences.' And then they turn around, 'Well, yeah, music is important. And art's important.' But they don't seem to be as important.

"Well, yes, science is important but you need other things. You need the arts. Do we train people and teach people and lead people into the arts? We don't do that. I think we should," McCutcheon says.

Despite the bleak prognostications, there may be a small ray of hope peeking over the horizon. This spring, a cadre of UT dancers led by instructor Melinda Brown performed at the Kennedy Center as part of the National College Dance Festival. The evenings of dance were presented by regional winners, an honor that Brown and company won at the Southeast festival in Birmingham. Since the announcement of this honor, the department has received some small financial grants and mentions in the press—all of which helps boost the visibility of UT Dance's situation.

The avant-garde

The stage could be anywhere—A-1 ArtSpace, the Clarence Brown or the Laurel Theatres, or a local dance studio. A woman moves with a frying pan while a film plays over and around her. Discordant images compete but somehow a gestalt is reached. This is grown-up modern dance, the type that can scare off the uninitiated with its bold ideas that don't always reach fruition. Still, it is all grounded in fluid movement and practiced locally by Circle Modern Dance.

Circle got its start with one show put on by a few UT grad students over nine years ago, to fill a perceived lack of modern dance opportunities in Knoxville. After testing the waters with the production, "it just kind of kept going," executive director and dancer/choreographer Mark Lamb says.

Now, Circle does at least two major shows per year, tours throughout the region, traveling from Chattanooga to Jonesborough and points in between. There are eight core members and three artistic directors who also choreograph and dance for—under the aegis of Circle—the Knoxville Opera Company and the Tennessee Stage Company. The company also holds classes and, this spring, they'll be producing a site-specific work for the Dogwood Architectural Tour. Like many dance troupes in town, the biggest challenge is economic.

"I think the dancers are definitely committed. I think the audiences are there. But right now, we don't have a space to rehearse in. We rehearse at UT, we rehearse at the Y, we rehearse at private studios wherever. But it would be nice to have our own space. And that takes money. But I think that would take us to the next level that we need to go to, is to have our own studio," Lamb says.

"My dream is to have a Culture Center, with studio space, somewhere in the inner city where there could be dance classes and art classes and music lessons for the Knoxville community, including targeting inner city children."

Mickey Foley, the executive director of the Knoxville Arts Council, agrees. "In a perfect world, a performing arts center is what dance and all of the arts needs. With all of the new development, this is the perfect time to start thinking about it."

"But," she adds, "the dance landscape in Knoxville really is healthy."

Certainly Circle adds to this health. Lamb and company's work varies from more traditional forms of dance to more experimental, like a recent multi-media piece about iron skillets that used films, slides, and text as well as dance to tell the story. This range of styles, Lamb believes, is also echoed in the dance community itself.

"There's really a lot of diversity. With the Tennessee Children's Dance Ensemble—I'm continually amazed by them, how incredibly professional they are, how their work is so clean, almost perfect. After the first piece, I forget they're children. It's just amazing. Whenever I travel, I have to talk about how great they are."

But dance is not something you have to be trained in to appreciate or understand. All you have to do, Lamb contends, is remember your own childhood.

"For me," he says, "everyone is a dancer. It's the most primal form of communication and it's within all of us. When I do workshops, I talk about my nephew, when I first started taking dance my nephew was a little bitty baby. I remember putting on music and he immediately began to move. I think it's just in you, whether you're taught movement or dance or whatever, it's in you.

"If people go and see dance, the more they're going to appreciate it. People have a conception that maybe it's just little recital things in tutus—and that has its place—but there's so many different forms now, especially in modern dance, that something is going to touch you. Especially with Circle. That's something I'm really proud of, that I've had people come to a concert and be just violently opposed to one piece and the next piece they're like, 'That piece just changed my life.'"

Fortunately, there is an audience here that is willing to meet the idea of dance halfway. Despite the day-to-day economic worries that Circle—and every other group in Knoxville—has had, there is still something about this city and her audiences.

"The best. They're the best. It's amazing," Lamb says. "The City Ballet comes in and they do their thing. I've spoken to some of their dancers and they love Knoxville because they're very receptive, they're very warm. When we go other places, I know, it's going to be harder. Here, we've established a following.

"I think we appreciate the arts here. A lot of people may not have that view but I have the view that if you get them there—the hard part is getting them there—but once you get them there, they're hooked. You've got them. But it's getting them there that's tough. You got to schedule around the football and all of this other stuff," he opines with a laugh.

So how do you draw more people into this art form and encourage them to support it? Dance lover Hirsch offers this advice:

"Just a few months ago, I was talking to my cousin and her husband who had never gone to the ballet. My cousin loves music. I said how can you not feel compelled to see what it looks like? It crystallizes the music for you. How can you not like it? And if you hate it, you can always close your eyes and listen.

"Don't be afraid. Just go and enjoy, just see how nice it is for people to move to music. When you go to a good performance and you leave, you should almost feel like you could fly across the street. It's very exhilarating.

"There is a song in A Chorus Line, about everything being beautiful at the ballet. And when they sing it, the person who's singing it has really had some traumas in her life, and she's singing about what happens when you go to the ballet: all of the heroines are beautiful and all of the heroes are gallant and the music is marvelous. It's such an exhilarating, wonderful fantasy and escape—it doesn't have to be a heavy thing that you understand."