Dancing Queen

Graceful, multitalented, and trailblazing are just a few words to describe legendary choreographer and pioneer of modern dance Dianne McIntyre. Hailing from Cleveland, McIntyre has been an influential figure in the world of African-American dance and theater, having garnered acclaim for her choreography for Broadway, television, the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, and Sounds in Motion—the dance company she founded in 1970. Not only a choreographer and dancer, but above all also an artist, McIntyre has been involved in putting some of the most seminal African-American texts— from Their Eyes Were Watching God to for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf—into motion. As Black Heritage Month wound to a close, DUNNI ODUYEMI spoke to McIntyre about her achievements and what dance means to African-American culture.

What inspired you to start dancing? What, or who, brought you into modern dance, specifically?

My parents told me I always danced. I heard music on the radio and created dance that looked like the music. So when I was four, my parents took me to study ballet with Elaine Gibbs (Redmond), who was the primary dance teacher for black children in Cleveland in the 1950s and ’60s. At age five or six, I saw the amazing Janet Collins perform with the Metropolitan Opera on tour in Cleveland. She was brown, like me. I was transfixed watching her—I knew I wanted do that with my life—dance! At age eight, I was introduced to modern dance in our after-school arts program. I studied with Virginia Dryansky, a beautiful dancer, who worked with the multiracial Karamu Dancers. We danced to freedom songs and other progressive, socially conscious music of the day. I studied with these two women through my teen years until I became a (modern) dance major at The Ohio State University.

What was it like being an artist around the time of the Black Arts Movement? Did that influence your work at all?

I was not an artist professionally during the Black Arts Movement—I had not entered the scene yet. However, I immersed myself in the poetry, saw the plays, heard the music, and was swimming in the black social/cultural/political movement—so it was hard for me not to be influenced by the Black Arts Movement. Before I came to New York, I worked with a theater director, Chestyn Everett, older brother of Maulana Karenga. Professor Everett was a social activist through art. He instilled in us the understanding that one’s art was to be in service to black social consciousness—to educate, motivate, and expand the collective vision of a society. As a result, as I began my professional dance work in the 1970s, I was definitely an offspring of the Black Arts Movement.

You’ve choreographed a lot of African-American literary narratives, like Toni Morrison’s Beloved and Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf. How do you “translate” these narratives into dance?

To translate literary narratives into movement, I begin by reading and reading over and over again—researching and diving into the deepest essence of the words. I hear the words as music. Then, I try to allow the movement to become another voice—a harmonious voice—with the words. This visual can sometimes fully expose an element only implied or that is an underlying intention of the author. In the end, I choreograph what I hope the writer would have choreographed—had that been her/his discipline.

Dance has been a hugely important part of many Afro-diasporic cultures. Were you always conscious of that? Has dance ever been a political or cultural expression for you? You famously reconstructed “How Long Brethren?” which is a protest dance, isn’t it?

I guess I intuitively knew that dance was a central part of all cultures of black people. Everybody I knew danced—young and old—for every occasion. As far as concert dance goes, I thought black people invented modern dance until I studied dance history in college. On the other hand, through dance history class, I discovered dance was necessary for the well-being and survival of communities worldwide among people of color. It was when I learned of the power of dance to uplift and sustain a people that I committed my life to the field of dance. A lot of my dances are a cultural expression—sometimes political. My company Sounds in Motion was known for the expression of ideals, ideas, history, joys, sorrows, and beauty—springing from black dancing musicality. “How Long, Brethren?” which I recreated from Helen Tamiris’ original choreography, is based on the Negro songs of protest by black laborers in the 1920s South.

What was it like choreographing for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater? I took classes there as a child, and I remember being blown away by Revelations. It must have been special to choreograph for a company that really made a name for African-American dance.

Yes, I was fascinated choreographing for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. The company inspired me and countless individuals—dancers and dance lovers throughout the world. My first piece for Ailey II Company was Deep South Suite—a lively work revealing some realities of the South in the 1940s, with music by Duke Ellington. Another piece later needed a lot more time for me to develop it. Had I created it first in another group—say, my own company, Sounds in Motion—I feel it would have been a more solid contribution. However, the joy of that experience was having the chance to learn from and watch Alvin Ailey in action. He was a giant in the world of the arts and a generous man in his everyday being. He introduced me to Romare Bearden who, like Mr. Ailey, encouraged me greatly in my work. I look forward to developing another work for that company one day.

Do you have any upcoming creative projects? I know that you’re a mentor and an idol for a lot of modern dancers trying to follow in your footsteps.

For dancers coming up I say: Dare to dance, though it is not easy trying to make a “good living” in the field. In this country, it takes a lot of ingenuity to be an artist. Not because you need to be at the top of your game—just because you have to figure out how to pay bills, make a living, and be an artist. It is possible—do research and let the art lead you to the solutions. If you study intensively, know all you can know, and then learn some more about your dance or arts field, about business, about those who have come before you, and about related fields—then, you can do well. It is a field of tremendous rewards. You do not want to look back and say, “Whoa—could I have pursued dance?” Try, maybe you’ll like it—and maybe it will lead you to another main focus. In any case, go where your heart is.