On Move and Movements

The essential Kariamu Welsh demands more from her dancers (and her audiences).

by Deni Kasrel

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Published: Jan 16, 2008

Michael T. Regan TOUGH STEPS: Welsh's self-styled Umfundalai technique is wrought with physical challenges. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

On a Monday evening, in Temple University's Pearson Hall, Kariamu Welsh rehearses her company for a February dance concert. As two conga drummers pound out polyrhythms, the performers run through phrases that embody elements of authentic African dance — foot stomping, rippling torsos while slowly swiveling the hips, and ululation — integrated with elements of modern dance plus a smattering of more theatrical scenarios.

The movement, based on Welsh's self-styled technique called Umfundalai, is clearly wrought with physical challenges. During breaks, Welsh counsels the dancers. Regarding a section where everyone needs to undulate their torsos, she advises, "You gotta let those backs go. You can't freeze up. ... You can't be afraid, you've got to take chances."

While demonstrating an upper-body gesture, Welsh tells a dancer, "You've got to make a statement."

Later, she elaborates: "There are all kinds of approaches to dance, and for me I want them to take the movement that I give them and give it back to me in a way that they've invested something in it. I don't want it to be just there, or just pretty. ... I really want it to be their voice. It's to take what I give them and for them to own it."

A self-described child of the late '60s early '70s, Welsh notes that in the beginning, Umfundalai — which in the Kenyan language of Kiswahili means "essence" or "essential" — was influenced by the prevailing mode of the times. "That was the whole 'know who you are, know your roots' era. I was introduced to African dance and I loved it instantly. But I'm not a traditionalist. I like using African movement vocabulary, but in a contemporary way."

Trained in modern and jazz technique, Welsh has also studied dance in various African countries including Zimbabwe, Nigeria and Senegal, and she even lived on the continent. And while she says that "helped put the movements in my body" as well as turned her on to "differences that many people are not aware of in African dance," these experiences affirmed to Welsh that she was not cut out to be a purist. "If I saw something that appealed to me from the Wolof culture and then I saw something that appealed to me from the Zulu culture, I wanted to put those things together. I wanted the freedom to mix and merge and blend and stylize, and that's really taboo. You don't do that if you're a traditional dancer."

Although it's derived from a very personal vantage point, Welsh wants Umfundalai to touch others, and that is surely the case for many of her dancers. C Kemal Nance, a longtime member of Kariamu & Company, asserts, "It mirrors my experience. It is not one specific aspect of African dance. It celebrates the multiplicity of African cultures. As a North American African-American, because we don't necessarily know our direct linage to a specific tribe in Africa, we can claim all of Africa. That's important to me personally, politically and spiritually, and that's why I feel so fulfilled by Umfundalai."

Others enjoy how delving into Umfundalai involves more than simply learning a dance technique. "I love the philosophy. It's holistic in the sense of community," comments Dina-Verley Sabb-Mills, who notes that Welsh's method melds story, legend and history with movements that layer "texture, flow, stillness and fastness on all kinds of levels. It's extremely intricate in terms of the way she uses space."

Kariamu & Company's dances generally concern social and political issues that affect black people. The motif for one work premièring on the upcoming program Antebellum Blues is about slavery. Double Dutch Chronicles reflects on a common pastime of inner-city children. "It's really about a rite of passage for young urban black girls," Welsh explains. "It's about going from being youthful and carefree and then all the things that go with being a young woman."

Another piece on the program, Raaahmona!, features poetry to help give voice to the central character, based on Ramona Africa. A member of the radical group MOVE, Ramona Africa was deeply affected by the notorious event of 1985 when an entire block in West Philadelphia was destroyed, and 11 died, due to a firebomb dropped from a police helicopter. Even today that incident can carry significant, often controversial overtones. However, Welsh says, "It's not my intent to make people MOVE sympathizers. It has nothing to do with that. The piece is about the strength and commitment of a woman who believed in something so strongly that she would go to prison for it. I had just come to Philadelphia when it happened and it stuck with me, not because of MOVE, but because there are so many people who have gone to prison based on their beliefs."

The narrative element in Welsh's work is frequently conveyed in an abstract manner, making it intentionally open to interpretation. "I try to plant seeds, but how those seeds grow is completely out of my control," she states. "People have to think for themselves."

"My art is aesthetic, but I also want to inform," says the choreographer, who emphasizes that she takes care to "not hit people over the head. I don't believe in that model. I want to be more subtle and sophisticated."

Whatever the impetus behind a piece, ultimately the Umfundalai technique, and by extension each Kariamu & Company production, is about creating transcendent spirit. Welsh wants her dancers to be dynamic and to emote enough intensity that the movement goes "beyond their bodies and reaches the audience ... so that everyone feels it."

As Sabb-Mills observes, it's all about "dancing from the inside out. She's not just interested in the steps. It requires the dancer to find another connection other than just the physicality ... you must say who you are, as a dancer, from your soul."

(d_kasrel@citypaper.net)

Kariamu & Company, Thu.-Sat., Feb. 14-16, 8 p.m., $13-$15, Conwell Dance Theater, Broad Street and Montgomery Avenue, 800-298-4200, liacourascenter.com.

 

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