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Martin Keogh
Independent Scholar
Field: American (U.S.) Studies - Dance
Host Institution: National School of
Fine Arts, Universidad de la Republica (University
of the Republic, and La Pista Dance Center,
Montevideo, Uruguay
Dates of Grant: December 3-19, 2004
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| Tamara Cubas, Santiago Turenne, Dolores
Rovira, and Florencia Varela reporting their
findings to the class. |
The Uruguayans have names for the winds that
arrive from different directions-the pampero
brings storms; the sudestada brings breezes;
the wind from the north el viento norte, carries
hot air and is referred to as el viento de los
locos, the crazy-making wind. When the winds
switch quickly, they call it la virazón.
The capital city of Montevideo dwells along
the Plate River and is intimate with these winds.
I'm sitting in a courtyard cafe with goldfish
flitting in a fountain and one lumbering bottom
feeder. Looking up, I see layers of clouds conveyed
in various directions. I'm about to walk next
door to lead a class for the dancers at the
National School of Fine Arts. We will improvise
with the images of the different winds of this
city as I teach the dance form, contact improvisation.
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| Martin Keogh and Catalina Chouy practicing
contact improvisation. |
Contact improvisation is a form based on the
spontaneous interaction between two people playing
with the physical forces that govern their movement.
Sometimes it's slow and meditative and other
times it's athletic and acrobatic. Weight and
velocity are communicated through a point of
physical contact that involves mutual support
and sensitivity.
From the top floor dance studio in the Instituto
Nacional de Bellas Artes (National School of
Fine Arts) I hear musicians practicing opera
and tango, along with sporadic gusts of Beethoven.
Occasionally, the fragrance of oil paints wafts
up from the art classes below. I'm teaching
in Spanish here. My voice is lower and not so
recognizable to me. While teaching in a different
language, I find that my material comes out
in ways that often surprise me. English is more
a language of verbs and Spanish is more imagistic.
Where I use the word "core" in English,
I use "medula" in Spanish. The literal
translation of medula is "marrow."
Asking my students to invoke the image of marrow
generates a visceral response that leads them
to quickly access the strength and mobility
found in the body's core.
After class, Carolina Besuievsky, who requested
the Fulbright Specialist grant, and Florencia
Martinelli, my host, take me for a walk along
La Rambla. This riverside shoreline of beaches,
walkways and rock outcroppings runs the length
of Montevideo. All kinds of people are here-teenagers,
families, couples-some in bathing suits and
some in business suits. Almost every group has
a thermos and small gourd called a mate from
which they drink yerba mate, the mildly stimulating
tea popular in South America.
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I look toward the city and see potluck architectural.
Buildings are constructed of brick, stone, concrete
and wood. The roofs are tile, cement and thatched.
While this country has just over three million
people, the infant-mortality rate the lowest
and life expectancy and literacy rates are the
highest in South America. The men and women
kiss cheeks when they meet here. In contrast
to my years living in Mexico, where men never
kiss each other, it took some getting used to
kissing new acquaintances.
I am struck by the amount of live music in
this culture. I often see people carrying instruments
and hear live music in many restaurants. On
weekends, neighborhoods are filled with the
pulsation of drums in preparation for carnival,
the evolving tradition of African slaves who
were brought here in centuries past.
Most cars are small-I've only seen two SUVs
and pedestrians do not have the right of way.
Today I was grateful for my dancer's reflex
as I leapt out of the way of a turning bus.
There are no lanes. Cars weave between each
other, and I've often disembarked from a taxi
with my knuckles blanched white. There are horse
drawn carts driven by people who are humilde,
indigent. They go through the city's garbage
and collect the recyclables for their livelihood.
Some of the horses express their owner's personality
with an elegant or oddball hat.
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People here, true to their reputation, have
been magnanimous. Patricia Vargas, my Fulbright
Program Officer, took me to lunch on Bacacay
Street in the pedestrian mall of the old city.
We heard the doors and windows slamming in the
wind, a familiar sound in Montevideo. After
our table umbrella nearly blew away, we settled
into the calm of the restaurant's interior.
We talked about culture, politics, history and
our children. She has a two-year old and a ten-month
old waiting for her at home. She said the great
pleasure of her work comes from how humble and
generous the "expertos," the Specialists,
are.
The food has been remarkable, particularly
the dinners where I felt I was immersed in the
culture and not skating over it like a tourist.
We never ate before 10 p.m., with 11 p.m. being
more usual. Once we did not sit down to eat
until 1 o'clock in the morning. I'm partial
to this lifestyle where the food you prepare
you buy that day from the produce stand, baker
and butcher. All of which can be found within
a block.
One night we had cheese soufflé at 11:30.
The sudestada breeze was passing through the
dining room. Over dinner, the hostess, Florencia,
began to tell me of the days when she was a
girl living under the military dictatorship
in the 1980's.
I've heard accounts from Chile and Argentina,
but did not realize that Uruguay also has its
history of incarcerations and disappearances.
She told me about how every citizen was classified
as "A", "B" or "C."
The "A's" could go about their business
as usual. The "B's" were watched and
many lost their jobs. The "C's" were
jailed. Florencia's parents were classified
as "B." Both were attorneys, and her
father represented the people who were jailed
for their political beliefs. Because the families
of the political prisoners often had no money,
they would sometimes give Florencia's parents
gifts of hand-woven ponchos or other crafts.
I arrived in Uruguay four days after the election
of president Taboré Vasquez. This is
the country's first socialist government. Now,
there are left leaning administrations in Uruguay,
Argentina, Chile, Brazil and Venezuela. Many
people here are keenly watching Chile because
their military has just apologized for the atrocities
of the 1980's and a pension has been granted
to the survivors.
After my first week of dancing and teaching,
my hosts took me to the countryside near Punto
del Este for a much-needed rest. Uruguayans
have a remarkable talent for simply hanging
out. On both days we chatted, ate quail eggs
like popcorn and finally, around 4 p.m., someone
would ask, "anybody want to go and do something?"
We went to the beach and later toured the town.
It's a good thing that we did not go to the
seaside earlier. Though Uruguay is one of the
least industrialized nations, they sit squarely
under the ozone hole, making the sun brutal.
We slathered on 60 SPF sunscreen despite being
on the beach so late in the day.
At the end of our weekend respite, another
dancer and I were dropped off in the countryside
to catch the bus back to Montevideo. After a
long wait, we learned that the bus had broken
down, and it was not clear when the next one
would arrive.
Sitting by the side of the road in this state
of not knowing, I found myself gazing at the
stars. I noticed how the constellations are
different than those in the northern hemisphere.
On this windless night, the Milky Way cast a
shadow. It had been years since I experienced
a night sky this brilliant. I reflected on how
my Fulbright Specialist opportunity has
allowed me to be immersed into another culture
and environment. As my senses have been stimulated
in new ways, I've responded with equal diversity.
My perception of the world and how I relate
to others have changed, allowing new doorways
to open in my work.
The bus arrived a little before midnight.
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| Tamara Cubas, Santiago Turenne demonstrating
for the class. |
During this final week of classes, we have
investigated how we can dance while in the act
of falling. There have been many shouts of excitement,
fear and glee as we've worked in the adrenal
moments just before the resolution of a fall.
On the last day of working together, I could
see that each dancer had a newfound trust and
connection to themselves and to their partners.
At the end of class a group of students came
up to me, and one, in perfect English, thanked
me for my work. She said, "We have been
talking, and agree that while we have teachers
come here who teach many styles, what makes
you different is that you make us feel so good
about ourselves." That was the kindest
acknowledgment they could have given me. I'm
grateful to both the Fulbright commission here
in Uruguay and to CIES for making this kind
of opportunity possible.
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