| Students embrace on Elizabeth Baker Theatre's stage before a recent dress rehearsal. |
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Assistant Professor Travis Gatling demonstrates a move in a
Putnam Hall studio.
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They've seen this piece before - an African dance driven by drumbeats - but they remain transfixed by the way their classmates lunge, reach, jump, twirl and internalize the music. Scott keeps pace with the wild beat by nodding her head. Then the music stops, and the dancers freeze in silence, exhaling their exhaustion through heaving chests.
Students form a back-rub chain.
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Although students and professors are immersed in the daily grind of technique classes, choreography training and rehearsals, they share a mutual respect for each other and the reputation they embrace as part of the Ohio University School of Dance. The tight-knit school, made up of about 80 modern dance majors and seven full-time faculty, has a long tradition of producing dancers with strong individual styles and endless stores of creativity.
Sophomore Colin Shelton stretches.
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As it celebrates its 30th anniversary this year, the School of Dance boasts a reputation as one of the nation's premier dance programs, consistently ranked among the top 10 undergraduate schools in the country by Dance Teacher Now magazine. Student choreography has been recognized 19 of the past 20 years at American College Dance Festivals. This spring, senior Chia Chi Chiang will become the first Ohio University student in six years to have her work performed at a national dance festival.
Madeleine Scott advises junior Sinead Kimbrell, who spent the winter
performing with the Trinity Irish Dance Company.
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The qualities that make the school so reputable also require faculty to wield a heavy hand when it comes to admissions. Of the 80 applicants who audition for entry each year, only 30 are accepted - because professors want quality students, studio space is limited and, most of all, faculty want to maintain the intimate atmosphere that prevails in their Putnam Hall home.
"We're developing artists going into a field of personal and cultural expression," says Associate Professor of Dance Mickie Geller. "You need to deal with individuals. Anonymity doesn't work here."
Dancers kick high at rehearsal.
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An associate professor of dance, Van Pelt organized the school's Winter Dance Concert in March. But the title of concert coordinator hardly seems encompassing enough for Van Pelt, who spends long hours in rehearsals while juggling her regular classes and caring for her son.
Snatching one of Lyle's fuzzy socks off her freshly washed T-shirt, Van Pelt rushes toward the dance studio. With baby in tow, she calls a quick "hi" to freshman Lena Lauer sitting in the hallway. Lauer casually watches Van Pelt hustle to class as she leans against a concrete-block wall, a pile of homework in her lap.
(from left) Junior Susan Miller, senior Sean McMahon, junior Maret Propes and senior
Ross Sandler perform Gladys Bailin's "Give My Regards."
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Just days into her first quarter as a dance major, Lauer realized she'd entered an intensely personal environment. Professors spend lots of one-on-one time with students, in dance instruction and advising.
"Dancing is pretty exposing," Van Pelt says. "We probably know more about our students than they think we do."
On a first-name basis with most of the faculty, students are comfortable confiding what's happening in their lives. Whatever they're struggling with - family, academics, low confidence, relationships - inevitably bubbles up during the strenuous learning process.
Faculty members Travis Gatling and Lisa Ford Moulton present "Give and Take."
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Gladys Bailin, who recently retired after 28 years with the School of Dance, has guided many students through the stages of self-discovery.
"You have an encounter with yourself," she says. "It's because the mind and body are working together. You have to think."
The source of students' soul searching comes from the tremendous emphasis professors put on choreography. Every quarter, students not only learn dance technique but delve into the process of creating their own work. For most students, mastering choreography is the most frustrating - and invigorating - element of the program.
"Sometimes I'll go to the studio and lie on the floor for a half hour, just staring at the ceiling trying to think of how to begin," says sophomore Erin York of Dayton, Ohio.
(from left) Sophomore Abby Harris, Maret Propes and sophomore Meghan Dunne are
caught in mid-air.
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"The hardest thing is keeping the right attitude -doing it day after day," says sophomore Nick Cappel, one of 11 men in the school. "Sometimes you don't want to go to an intense class, but that's how you learn."
The school's choreographic mantra has produced many talented alumni. Linda Sohl-Donnell, a 1975 graduate who is the artistic director and founder of the Los Angeles-based dance company Rhapsody in Taps, credits Bailin with sparking her interest in choreography. She has used her creative skills to develop experimental tap pieces for her dancers, including such famous artists as Gregory Hines.
"She got me excited about creating, and I spent all my time in the studio," Sohl-Donnell says. "I'll always associate that as a magical time for me."
Freshman Molly Schneider of Pittsburgh likes telling her dad, a former high school football player, that if he thinks football is intellectually challenging, he should try remembering three or four dances at once. She compares the mental struggle to reading several books at the same time - it's easy to get the plots mixed up. Sitting on the floor of the studio eating a sandwich, she inadvertently pokes at a hole in her worn sock as she talks about her choice to major in dance.
(from left) Maret Propes, Abby Harris, Meghan Dunne, Susan Miller and senior Gretchen Pallo
stretch across the length of the stage in "Give My Regards."
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Assistant Professor of Dance Travis Gatling is familiar with the presumptions people make about a dancer's life. Most folks are surprised to hear that for every minute of dance in a performance, 10 hours were spent creating and polishing it.
"These students make sacrifices of time that cut into a large portion of their social life," Gatling says. "People don't realize the sweat and tears that go into it."
Gatling, in his second year of teaching at Ohio University, identifies with sacrifice, especially the kind students make when they pass up a more traditional major for dance. Several years ago, Gatling quit his job as an English professor to start over as a dance student.
Students use the cozy Virginia Hahne Theater as a makeshift dressing room
during concerts.
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The main office in the School of Dance is wallpapered with vibrant posters of leotard-clad
dancers spinning, crouching and soaring. Scribbled words on postcards tacked to bulletin boards
tell of graduates' latest performances, where they're living and when they're getting married.
The walls serve as a visual sanctuary for prospective students and current dancers who need a
little motivation. Scott also uses it for inspiration. Sometimes, classrooms get overcrowded,
studios get hot and facilities in 74-year-old Putnam Hall, a former elementary school, aren't what
the director envisions as an ideal space for dancers. Renovations should begin within the year, but
Scott holds out hope for the eventual construction of a performing arts center. In the meantime,
she looks forward to projects she and her colleagues are working on to enhance the curriculum.
Dancers warm up before rehearsal.
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"I think it's so important to incorporate technology into the classroom, and interacting with students hundreds of miles away is an exciting concept," she says.
Closer to home, students and researchers have a new opportunity to learn about modern dance history through a recent donation to the school's archives. Last year, world-renowned choreographer and dancer Murray Louis designated Ohio University as the repository for his artifacts and those of his mentor and lifelong partner Alwin Nikolais.
Covering half a century of modern dance, the collection includes props, videos, music scores, photographs, flyers and programs. Nikolais, who died in 1993, was founder of the internationally acclaimed Nikolais Dance Theater. Louis chose Ohio University, in part, because of his relationship with Bailin, one of his former dance partners.
"The tradition was begun and built with Gladys Bailin," Louis says. "It was just natural."
(from left) Junior Sarah Sass, graduate student Caroline Quinlan and junior
Jennifer Chmiel perform whimsical interludes during a recent concert.
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"I like to have a good time, and I thought it would be a great way to end the piece," says Bailin, 70, who retired in March. "I'm just saying so long for a while - not forever, but for a while."
Bailin has been a mainstay of the School of Dance since 1972, when she came to Athens to teach after a successful career as a performer and choreographer in New York City. Having served as school director from 1983 to 1995 and instructed hundreds of students through the years, she has left an indelible mark on the program.
"It's been incredible," says Bailin, who plans to stay in Athens and do consulting work across the country. "I can't think of any other place I've experienced so much joy."
More than anything, she's enjoyed nurturing young dancers, giving them the poise to express themselves on stage and the skills to succeed in life.
"It's a very intense program, and those who stay with it leave with something really solid," she says. "They're able to lead good, sound lives on their own, whether or not they go into dance. They learn life lessons."
And students seem to know that. During one of her final classes before retirement, a group of freshman dancers sought her advice on building confidence.
"Everybody is insecure, and you have to remember that," Bailin told them. "You just need the desire to do it and the willingness to take a chance."
Bailin, her colleagues and students have taken that chance, and it's carried them to new heights in their quest to express the human experience.
"When you get to that level, it's a revelation," she says.
Sidebar Story: Collaboration brings two worlds together
Melissa Rake is assistant editor of Ohio Today. Gary Kirskey is an assistant professor of
photography and Megan Stark, BSVC '01, is a student in his Advanced Photo Illustration class.