The Seattle Fandango Project

Flor, Canto, Palabra, Gratitude

2010-03-04T09:34:00.000-08:00

Fotos de atravesando fronteras, compartiendo tiempo, espacio, y belleza.

I wanted to offer gratitude to all of those who helped put together and participate in the "Flor y Canto" event this past week. I think these photos capture a bit of the spirit and energy that was abundant that evening.

I am continuously humbled by the many forms that people use to resist, respond, and decolonize. I can say, on behalf of our danza circle, that we were so happy and honored to share that space with everyone present. It was obvious that we all bring much love and heart to our crafts and the movements behind them. In hind sight, there was so much I left out of the brief time I spoke. When I am dancing in that ceremony, my mind is in a different place and it is challenging for me to step into an intellectual mode. Though I think the words spoken by Mark Gonzales and members of the Seattle Fandango Project reflected much of what I would have said. This is part of what I believe to be so powerful...these threads that bind us in our efforts even if they take different forms.

I decided that I would share a bit of reflection here on what we were unable to share in that moment. What really resonated with me was when Martha was speaking about how community gets built: people just show up, learn these protocols by participating, and then soon all grow to love each other; "we become family". The same is true with our circle. Like fandango, for our form of danza azteca you don't have to be a talented or professional dancer. You just show up with desire and respect to learn and share. That is why we don't consider ourselves "performers" in the traditional sense. We come together in this old way to preserve what was believed to have been lost and we transform it into something new. When we share it with the public, we demonstrate how we are embodying elements of the past, present, and future. And we do this without shame for how our bodies look or move. We are simply proud to be who we are...as a circle, community, people and we hope this pride emanates outward to be experienced by all.

Martha also spoke of the ways which fandango is transformed by its movement within community. One of the things that we talk about in our circle is what it means to preserve what is ancient and necessary while we release that which no longer serves the needs of the community. It's a difficult balance but if we really pay attention to the most sacred and important elements (i.e. the drum, the ayayotles, sonajas), we can easily find what we must keep to maintain the integrity of the form. We can also then free ourselves to look carefully at what aspects don't fit and are ok to release (i.e. militancy, patriarchal hierarchy, authenticity tests through rigid protocols). This is what makes these historical forms relevant for today. This is how we ensure that they come from a foundation of care. I believe that if we fight to hold onto something only for the sake of holding onto it, then it loses its spirit. Culture and cultural forms are and always have been fluid. We can be reverent, respectful, and critical all at the same time...and this, along with sharing the beauty of the steps and sounds is the heart of "decolonizing".

I regret that we didn't have time to invite the children to learn a short danza with us or to take and respond to questions as a group. I hope that as our communities grow closer and stronger and as we continue to create these spaces, we will have the chance to do that.

Thank you again to everyone for such strength, care, and beauty. We look forward to more of these opportunities. I hope you enjoy the photos.

Ometeotl.

Ramona Beltran

A few more thoughts on learning how to dance

2009-12-19T09:16:00.000-08:00

Creating Space
My language skills are very limited. I know a bit of Turkish and I studied abroad in Istanbul (at an English language, American founded university) where I was sometimes able to use this knowledge. Mostly in ordering food that I wanted to try and avoiding food I didn’t want to eat. As for Spanish, I can say a little less than one can learn from watching Dora the Explorer for a summer. Because I was not part of the language space of the fandango, I found its importance enunciated. The sons craft part of this space. It is immensely frustrating being able to understand why a son is considered beautiful without being able to fully comprehend why. Spanish is the language most commonly spoken at the fandango and at the workshops, both in communicating how . It is a tool in constructing a safe zone, for heightening bonds with, and determining how much a person is part of the community. Spanish is the language of the fandango. Roles, sons, steps, and philosophies of fandango are Spanish. Without knowing what “con fay co“ means beyond what my feet are to do, I am not able to fully understand the space it creates.

Learning to Dance
Through the Seattle Fandango Project’s workshops, I observed the zapateado dance style being learnt in two (very) different ways. The more formal instruction by Rubí at the workshops provided an excellent base of knowledge to build on, introducing the steps to many of us who were just beginning to learn the dance. The real learning, though, takes place on and around the tarima. In the words of one mother to her daughter as she was pushed onto the tarima “It’s the only way you learn!” By the end of the night she had spent the most time out of anyone dancing. Novice dancers, like myself, review the basic steps with each other towards the back, helping each other become more proficient at the dance. More advanced dancers explore more complex rhythms and moves together while waiting for their turn to dance. And everyone watches everyone else, mimicking, trying, and learning from watching what they do.

Hearing Music
Of course, in order to be able to do any of this, one must first learn to hear music and be part of it. The dancers are part of the music making, they are musicians. I’ve allowed myself to cultivate a persona of the anti-musician, tone deaf and walking without a sense of sense of rhythm. By the end of my first workshop I realized that I had to throw this persona out the window if I had any hopes of being able to even start to get the most basic steps down. I found myself during this process shifting between simply listening to music to actually hearing it, which changed how the music itself sounded.

Foot-Ware
The proper foot-ware is vital, sort of. The only real requirement is that the shoes make noise. Those usually worn by the female dancers have a rather substantial heal, being anything from flamenco shoes to a pair of Steve Maddens picked up a department store. Too thin of a heel (as I learnt) makes one rather wobbly. Platform shoes can work. Whenever wearing a pair of shoes without clear definition between the heel and the rest of the foot, it becomes more difficult to enunciate some of the footwork. The steps become clunky. Dancing in boots for long periods of time makes one’s legs beastly hot. I managed to learn that one twice. After having worn every pair of shoes I own (flip-flops included) to the workshops, I finally decided that the only solution was to go an buy a pair of proper dance shoes. I made my way to a dance store in the U-District to find, as was recommend by a dance-student at the workshops, a pair of character shoes. An hour into the fandango at the Vera Center, I discovered (to my horror) that although the shoes seemed to fit fine in the store, they were a smidgen too small and extremely painful.

-Valerie Grabski

2009-12-16T15:24:00.000-08:00

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Seattle Fandango Video

2009-12-08T07:39:00.000-08:00

Seattle Fandango from Scott Macklin on Vimeo.

Sketches From the Fandango

2009-11-10T21:13:00.000-08:00

Here are a few of the sketches from the Fandango two Fridays ago, drawn before the dancing started. It's pretty difficult to sketch when wanting to join in the festivities.

Rubi
Juan
Paris

KEXP Sound Documentary

2009-11-08T19:50:00.000-08:00

Hey,

You can check out Michele Myers' Sound Doc on SFP here:
http://blog.kexp.org/blog/2009/11/05/kexp-documentaries-%E2%80%93-fandango/

A Beginning Experience

2009-11-06T14:40:00.000-08:00

A Beginner’s Reflections on Fandango

Wow! Son de Madera is coming, and I have the opportunity to do some community building through music and dance. Perfect! I check my schedule, and I see that I can attend one workshop to do music, one to dance, and a lecture/concert as well. Sounds good!

Day one - A Music Workshop

I packed my fiddle on the bus and headed down to the Main Campus. I have experience playing a little Bluegrass, and a lot of Scandinavian music, but nothing else. I wonder what will happen, will I be able to play with everyone else? What if I don’t know what to play? What if I sound awful? I don’t know anyone either…maybe no one will talk to me, and I’ll feel left out. With nothing to but try, I walked into a very noisy and busy classroom.

There were a group of musicians crowded in the front of the room, noodling on small guitar like instruments. There was another lady with a fiddle - now that was exciting! There were some strange instruments on a table. One looked like a set of jawbones, complete with teeth, of a large animal. I had no idea what it was. Some people took down a large wooden platform and placed it in the middle of the open space of the room. What about that? Not knowing what else to do, I sat down, unpacked my fiddle, and waited.

The next thing I know, music has started, and all of a sudden a group of women were standing in front of the platform, and they were dancing. Their feet made clacking noises in different rhythms as they banged their heels on the floor, with lively changes of weight. The patterns of the footwork changed, but I couldn’t see a pattern as to when they changed. I was so engrossed in watching their feet, that I did not realize that Ramon was playing the other fiddler’s instrument showing her what to do.

My attention shifted to Ramon. He gave her back her fiddle and came to me. He played for me, a simple repeating pattern that was easy to grasp, but then he took off, improvising through the range of sounds possible on that instrument. He used different bowings, changing the speed and the length of bow, creating many different colors of sound. Then he smiled at me and handed back the fiddle.

With no hesitation, I started to play. It was an amazing experience. I just played the little pattern, and then tried to think about what Ramon had played, and out came music that worked within the group. People were smiling - at me - as I played. Wow! What great fun!

And so I began to understand ‘convivencia’ or conviviality. It’s about living music together, dancing together, sharing a communal experience. Within this circle there is no judgement, something that I found utterly astonishing. There is no division of those who are able to play and those who cannot, because everyone can. Someone will show them, start them off, create a connection. I had never experienced anything like that.

And what about the bones? Aha! The jaw bones were from a horse, and the teeth are loose. It is a percussion instrument. You hold the bones and bang them with your palm. They vibrate, making a sort of humming sound, and the teeth rattle making a second percussive sound. When I asked about them later, it was no problem to try them out. It was not as easy as it looked, but it was certainly interesting.

Through the hour and a half of music and dancing, I noticed that tunes are often put together in layers. One group of instruments would start, another join, then another, until finally all the musicians were playing. There were breaks as well when the singers sang verses, the dancers danced, and some of the musicians were quieter so that the singer might be heard.

By the end of the workshop, I had become clear that I wanted to try to dance. On my way out, a young woman came to me and asked if this was my first experience of Fandango. I said yes, somewhat shyly, and she commented that I had played incredibly well. Wow. It was wonderful to have such a comment at the end of my first attempt. I left feeling that I had indeed experienced “convivencia.” And I was dying to try the dance!

Day 2 - The Concert and Discussion

Now I had some concepts about the Fandango, but I really was curious about the roots and underpinnings. As I sat in the hall, Ruby came out and began to talk. Things began to be clearer.

There is a Fandango, a coming together of community, a process of living music together. At the heart is “convivencia” or conviviality. This is a tradition passed from person to person, self nuturing, intergenerational, communal. It is very much a living tradition, sharing the knowledge and practice so that it continues. It is expected that if you come to a fandango, you participate. Just standing around is not part of the scene, and is a social blunder.

There is poetry, lyrics, set to the music. Traditionally, people sang about the things that effected them, love, land, sadness, heartbreak but also injustice, contamination of the land, conditions in some urban environments. Because the lyrics were originally rooted in colonialism, the lyrics were a way to express resistance, to protest, to raise questions about the church, the state or both. This kind of tradition continues. In fact, fandango was outlawed in Mexico by the church during the colonial period. It was said to be dangerous, and any form of uprising, of which fandango was considered one, was outlawed. Actually, it was outlawed again in the 1940s, but brought back to live, revived, in the 1970s.

A question arose from an audience member that was of interest, asking if the footwork of the fandango dancing was related to flamenco. The fandango is actually older, it was explained, and the origins are not Spanish. This is clear because the footworks, the patterns, also exist in dances performed by the indigenous people in Mexico.

All of this information, plus many wonderful tunes, was alive in my head as I went to my next workshop.

Day 3 - Dancing Feet

On a rainy Saturday I headed down to the Youngstown Cultural Arts Center. I had my dance shoes, and I was ready to explore the Fandango afoot.

Arriving late, I walked into the room to see a crowd of musicians in the back part of the room, working on some music. At the same time, toward the front, was a row of people, men and women, working on dance footwork. I changed into my shoes and went to join them.

My feet were very confused. Some how Ruby kept ending up on alternating feet at the end of the pattern, and I ended up on the same foot every time. I stopped moving to count. Another participant came up and explained that I needed to shift my weight faster in order to be able to accomplish the speed of footwork, get one more tap in, and then my feet would not be having the problem. Oh, that’s all? Not a chance.

As the afternoon went on, I began to have a better feel for the rhythms and patterns, which were quite different from any of the northern European or Israeli folk dancing that I had experienced. Stepping up onto the tarima (the dance floor) I was nervous, but Ruby just smiled and communicated that I should keep going. After an hour and a half of dancing, I was pooped! But, I also could see what fun it would be to dance in a huge group of people going on and off the tarima, showing off their footwork, flirting a little.

We took a break, and the pattern of the dance was explained. Actually, in terms of footwork, there is no prescribed sequence, but there are ways to break up the rhythms, for example by a stop, that give a little more texture. I also learned how the movement on the tarima works.

There are usually four people on the tarima at a time. Each person dances with the person across the tarima from them. Dance with, in this case, means you look at that person, you may trade places with that person, you may or may not coordinate your footwork, depending on whether or not you are trying to impress them or not. When the music reaches a new repetition, then other people may tap you on the shoulder to show that they would like a turn on the tarima, and you step off. There are people who go on the tarima and do not want to come off, but eventually, it was explained, they get tired, and then you can have a turn!

In the middle of all of this, two workshops going on simultaneously in one space, there were also people coming in and out, and a group of children playing. You might think it was chaos, but actually, it was joyful sound. Everyone - children, musicians, dancers - tacitly agreed that we were a community together, one that had tolerance and flexibility in order to encourage the participation, at any level, of all of the other members of the community. This was something amazing. I wondered about how neighborhoods would change if people were so flexible, how politics would change, and indeed, how the world might be changed.

This has led to a larger consideration of music and dance in my life. How can I make change using those tools? What makes community building happen? What makes people feel welcome and empowered to participate? I don’t have all the answers yet, but through this experience the questions are beginning to bubble up.

Reflection on Gender and Body in the Fandango

2009-11-05T17:15:00.000-08:00

From what I understand, in a traditional Fandango context one would most commonly see men playing instruments and singing while women dance the zapateado. At the panel discussion “El Alma En La Tarima” Rubi explained that traditionally there are two types of dances on the Tarima. There are dances of courtship in which males may also participate, and there are dances of spiritual female bonding. The panelists argued that women play an empowering role for multiple reasons. Being the Bailadoras offers a level of control. The women maintain the rhythm and also may change it at will. It also offers the opportunity to communicate through bodily movement rather than through words. But more importantly it is empowering to be the Bailadora because it provides them with a passageway for spiritual transcendence. Hence, the handout at the panel discussion explained that “ ‘Dejar el alma en la tarima’ is an expression a woman utters when she has exhausted herself physically in zapateado and all at once senses a near spiritual moment in the process.”

Throughout history women have been regarded as the more bodily gender due to the fact that they give birth. They are therefore regarded as being more in touch with nature, and natural processes, and more comfortable with embodiment. Men on the other hand are represented as more cognitive. As a result mental capacities have been given immense privilege over bodily capacities, especially in Western civilization. This cultural assumption has been the source of oppression towards women for centuries, which is why I understand the zapateado to be an activist measure for reclaiming the significance and importance of the female body, especially as a medium for spiritual transcendence.

While it brings me great joy to witness this reclamation of the body as a source of wisdom, it concerns me that it is something reserved mostly for women. While this practice clearly breaks cultural/ideological boundaries I feel that it also reinstates them to a certain degree. The most bodily performance method in a Fandango is the dancing because the body is the sole medium for communication. Women fill this role because they are considered to be the more embodied gender. Women have been oppressed for centuries because of this assumption. In other words, the power of the body has been repressed because it has been viewed as something exclusive to women, and therefore a threat to male power. I think it’s perfectly logical to fear a method of power than one feels they could never experience for themselves, and I believe that this problem is at the root of misogyny. That is why I think it is crucial that the Fandango encourage male bodily expression.

I’m not arguing that the Seattle Fandangos do not do this. To the contrary, it seems that the traditional gender roles have actually not been emphasized, and some men have participated in the dancing. The panelists also expressed that it is their goal to change the status quo and provide a more inclusive environment through the Fandango, however what concerns me is that there is no space offered for male bonding. There is no official dance in which males may dance together to experience their common embodiment.

If the Fandango project wants to change the status quo and provide an inclusive environment, then I think that one change that should be made is the addition of dances for spiritual male bonding. I think that a dance of this sort could provide men with a space in which they could experience their common embodiment in a supportive atmosphere, because men should also feel free and encouraged to “dejar el alma en la tarima”. Female oppression and devaluation of the body will never cease if men are not encouraged to experience embodiment and thus learn that they too possess the powers of the body.

The Plurality of the Fandiguiti

2009-11-04T18:28:00.000-08:00

I read the posts and it inspires me. It takes me back to when I first witnessed fandango. It’s the shit right?!! It takes you out there! Carolina Sarmiento, Maya Jupiter and Los Santaneros left here impressed by the response and the great vibe of the Fandango Community here in Seattle. They could not believe their eyes! There were people playing and dancing and everyone had a great time! Carolina mentioned that many people in Los Angeles were bummed they didn’t get to come up, especially after they heard of the great success the whole event was!

But I think we have to recognize what was most important about the whole event. It was not so much the fandango itself. No matter how the event would have turned out, little or no people. It was the process that was most important. Back in April in anticipation for Son De Madera’s arrival, the talleres, the day in, the day out, the excuse to convivir. Arriving to the talleres, hugging and kissing people, conversing between sones, chasing after niños malcriados! (Ok maybe just mine) But it was the process, the process and the bonding in the talleres, that moved us closer together to interact as community. The process is the everlasting meaning. That is the joy we all feel. Convivencia is the most valuable tool that a human beings posses.

With that said, it can’t be owned. It needs the many to thrive. Fandango demystifies the idea of a movement lead by a “leader”. Yet SFP begins to gain the momentum of a movement. To quote Vietnamese philosopher, Trin Ti Min-Ha “All is empty when one is plural.” (22) Although she is referring to the creative process of a writer, this can also be applied to the fandanguero, participant, and dancer. The plurality of fandango is a powerful tool. The efforts are for the many. She/He is “empty” in terms of interests. El unico interes es divertirse y ofrecer,“ El alma en la tarima”. The only interest is to leave your soul as an offering to the community, because it feels safe to do so. This is the personal process of de-colonization it is the de-individualization of the soul.

As we move into the future it’s important to be mindful of how quickly it will grow. Like fire it will spread and every action we initiate needs to keep the social justice implications alive in its praxis. Finally, I think we feel it so strongly because it is one example of a basic human need nearly lost. How will you pass it on? What will you stress? What will we change in the process? What must change? What is important never to compromise as you share it with others?

Convivencia and the Power of Poetry

2009-11-04T17:36:00.000-08:00

As a recent transplant to Seattle i have been starving for people to play with and feel blessed to have so quickly found a full-on community of people to satisfy my soul with. Fandango goes so far beyond what i could have hoped for on a musical, intellectual and spiritual level. Being part Chilean and living in California most of my life, inhabiting a "latin" space felt very natural to me and on many levels made me yearn for a deeper understanding of the Fandango.
Turning to the web proved a bit frustrating, but i did find some interested sites of note, especially with regard to the poetic aspects of the Son Jarocho.

While not extensive, this site has a nice summation in spanish of Son Jarocho, although it offers no commentary on the many of the social issues around it's history and performance.
http://acidconga.com/son-jarocho/

Como Suena is another site in spanish directed by Rafael Figueroa Hernandez with a section on Son Jarocho which is a more detailed history. Again, history is the emphasis with no mention of identity politics and social issues that permeate the way we talk about it round here.
http://www.comosuena.com/articulos/articulossonjarocho.html

So what's up? Why am i having so much trouble finding the contemporary character of Son Jarocho detailed online? Can some of the OG's elighten us to the accuracy of these histories, or perhaps the important things that have been omitted for one reason or another?

Once i picked up the the concept of decimas (10 verse form ABBA/AC/CDDC) i was able to find a number of sites that not only discussed it's context within Son Jarocho, but more broadly across the Americas. Very cool...

I found a great website with some examples of decimas (from a Chilean perspective in Cueca music) It made me wonder how far the concept of fandango has traveled and through what avenues and for what reasons have different expressions of the decima migrated.
- http://cuecachilena.cl/decimas.html

Finally i found a very interesting site with a full on lesson plan for writing decimas
http://www.ncteamericancollection.org/aaw_decima_poetry.htm
This site prompted a lot of questions about learning fandango vs. learning decimas. Does this sort of structured lesson plan clash with the concepts of convivencia and fandango? It seems so dry, but then again i had some stumbling blocks to negotiate the lyrical aspects of the Son.
What do other think of this lesson plan? Would you have run away screaming seeing this method of instruction? How can we teach the poetic intricacies, especially rhyming and improvising to newbies? This became a big question upon reflection.

From a personal perspective:
As an instrumentalist the past month of Fandango workshops have been amazing, moving from instrument to instrument, learning rhythms, melodies and technique. I had a number of epiphanies as Ramon or Quetzal took me aside and taught me melodies and montunos on the requinto and my instrument of choice at the time, a Peruvian charango. The swirling cyclical nature of the music is entrancing, even after mastering a complex run of notes, i felt no urge other than to keep pushing the cycles with small embellishments or transpositions of these beautiful melodic lines. I was so happy to be able to invite my family to the Youngstown workshop one weekend. They really enjoyed it and my Mom has repeatedly commented to me since on how she misses dancing and just having a blast with no judgment, almost as if she were a child again. I feel that too when i participate in the music, an ability to let go, to play, to share and ultimately to grow in this space. One of the more personal moments of the fandango on Saturday that i truly enjoyed was trading solos with Russell on the ouskirts of the tarima. Listening, copying and evolving my musical thoughts and skills come so naturally in that space.

Singing on the other hand felt not so childlike anymore. While able to respond to a singer's lines, I, not being an experienced improviser had no way of participating in what seems like some of the most engaging and thought provoking part of fandango, singing and improvising decimas. The atmosphere can be enlightening or a friendly competition, and that is so damn cool. I can see why so many of the concepts behind hip hop fit so well into this music. But these skills are much more difficult to learn (for me at least) than the music and dance. I'm interested in getting together with people and talking about singing, improvising and decimas. I'm curious if the the same sorts of issues and questions come up in HipHop lyricism and what it feels like for a MC to try their hand at a decima. The metaphors i was able to pick up on were beautiful and i want to get a deeper understanding of their meanings... anyone else?

Un brindis a los grandes amores! Musica, danca, y poesia juntos en felizidad
Andres

Thoughts on Learning in the Fandango

2009-11-04T08:34:00.001-08:00

Even if I am tired and having a bad day, I leave a fandango workshop light on my feet, happy, with a feeling that things are right in the world…
It is not just the music- I don’t get the same effect playing the piano in a practice room. It is not just being with people, either- I don’t get the same effect chatting at a party. Something about playing music with people in a space that is supportive and accepting is powerful.

When I think of it as “learning” then I don’t want to do it. I think “I already play too many instruments, I will never have time to practice this one…”
But when I do it just for fun, because I want to be a part of this groove, because somebody is there who can show me, then learning happens.

The learning in the workshop setting is on multiple levels: the learning of specific musical skills, learning people’s names, learning how to be together in the space of the fandango (which is both open and accessible, but still defined and structured), learning about ourselves, etc. I give these kinds of learning different names, but they do not just co-exist; they are mutually interdependent. That is, the musical, social and spatial spheres cannot be separated.

This has implications for formal education which too often takes learning out of its multidimensional, social context and isolates it in a book, lecture, lesson, etc. In doing so, learning becomes more measurable and compartmentalized (by subject, by specific skills, by what the institution permits you to learn and what it excludes). This shifts the focus to the individual, while simultaneously taking away individuals' learning choices by requiring that they meet certain predetermined learning objectives.

Questions for the group:

Thinking about the idea of bringing fandango into the schools: Yes! That is a great idea, but traditional school settings like to separate these spheres (“Now it is time for music, don’t look at your friend. Wait until recess”). If we write a manual for teaching the fandango, will that will take away the informal learning/social exchange that is so rich? Will that separate the components of the Fandango and make it impossible to put them back together again? How do we avoid that? I think these are important questions to ask, because I think that schools could gain a lot from the model of learning that takes place in the fandango.

One of the things that I most appreciate about the fandango, as I have observed it in Seattle, is its flexibility. The model of interaction, the design of the space, the accepting, supportive commmunity (in which rappers can take their turn on the tarima)- these seem more important than which chords you play on the jarana.

Would a manual for the fandango take away this flexibility by privileging certain "right" ways to proceed and excluding other possibilities? Can you teach "community" in a book? Maybe, as somebody suggested, a book could inspire people to attend a workshop and give them the confidence they need to participate and then learn through experience.

Documentation:

Using a series of short video clips, I am attempting to document some of the informal learning that occurs in the fandango setting. I have chosen to use video because I think it comes closer to depicting "the event" as a whole than audio or text. I feel a little uncomfortable being behind a camera - fandango is an experience, not a musical item or commodity that I can capture. Even so, I think that video is a useful tool - it highlights aspects of the event that we may not think to verbalize, or may not be consciously aware of in the experience itself.

Finding Parallels:

When I started graduate school in ethnomusicology, after four years in the Peace Corps in Tanzania and The Gambia, my biggest concern was that the academic setting would feel too removed from real world experiences and problems. The SFP is proof to me that ethnomusicology can be relevant and meaningful, that I do not have to choose between music and social justice, and that effective collaborations do exist between academic institutions and community movements. I find the principles of the fandango very relevant to my own research on the role of West African participatory music styles in HIV/AIDS awareness programs and among people living with HIV.

Viviendo convivencia

2009-11-02T22:07:00.001-08:00

"Let yourself be sidetracked by your guiro. Let yourself be free..." -- Alurista, 1971

Soy danzante azteca...I'm an aztec dancer. I often introduce myself by saying this. What I add is that I am an activist scholar and I have come to a point in my scholarship where I feel it essential to say that I am never a scholar without being a danzante and I am never a danzante without being a scholar. What I feel that I finally have a grasp on is the fact that none of these things are separable. For me, these things are inextricably linked and simultaneously co-exist. Being a danzante/activist/scholar for me, is a way of life. What I bring to the dance - the spirit, energy, politic is my entire heart and soul and I never do this in isolation. In traditional danza azteca we dance in circle - in harmony with the energy of the elements, ancestors, and each other. It's a way, passed down over generations, that we both rescue what was interrupted and transform it into something new. To me, this is a form of cultural preservation and resistance to colonial processes. It's beautiful because it requires few words but much body and heart.

In attending the fandango workshops, encuentros, and concerts, I was struck by the common threads through these distinct art-forms. I was inspired and excited by the articulation of "convivencia" as a way of living and being in community. It is celebratory, political, liberating. And to me, this tradition embodies some of the most beautiful aspects of true participatory democracy -- everyone's voice is appreciated, allowed, and expressed -- free from the judgments of authenticity tests. Learning the protocols of the fandango are very similar to learning protocols of danza, only requiring respect, active observation and participation. People are truly learning by doing and hence, quickly embody the most profound pieces at the heart of these forms: love and community. These forms are the teaching, learning, resisting, reclaiming -- the elements, I believe, necessary for true transformation.

I am wondering to myself if these traditions are closely related because of their common birthplace -- a reference to the influence of space and place. Or are their essential elements more part of human nature in general? At the end of the intellectual analysis, I simply believe in the transcendental and transformative power of music and dance - in whatever form it takes.

Rather than continuing to locate proper words to express the profound nature of convivencia, I believe these photos better illustrate the beauty of living and being in community. They are pictures of my danza azteca community, fandango workshops and final concert. Together they are a mosaic of the spirit of convivencia. Gracias!

Ramona Beltran
11/2/09

Friday's Fandango

2009-11-01T19:14:00.000-08:00

Our fandango with Son de Madera at the Vera Project in Seattle Center last night was a powerful coming together for the Seattle Fandango Project thus far. We finally got started around 9:00, instead of 8:00, but all’s well that ends well. The stage performances were really varied, including Alberto and Paris from Youngstown, and Maya Jupiter the Australian Chicana (J), rapping to recorded rhythm tracks; our band, “Dingolay” without Jeff (Ricardo came by later), and with Juan and Martha instead; Kim’s son huasteco group, “Trio Lucero Del Norte”; Monica’s Afro-Peruvian ensemble, “De Cajon”; the jaraneros from Santa Ana; and finally Son de Madera.

When Son de Madera came on you could see the crowd sit up and listen. They played beautifully, and on their last song some people pulled the tarima out into the middle of the room and the musicians from Son de Madera played while couples took turns dancing. I think the song was “El Toro,” and it involved men and women. As other musicians gathered to play near the tarima, Juan, Tereso, and Rubí left the stage one by one--or at least I think so because I realized at some point that Ramón was the only person still on stage and the others were down at the tarima. All the people in the audience who had been enthralled with Son de Madera’s performance were now watching the action on the tarima. They were totally captivated by the fandango, and they became a part of it. It was a transfer of energy from one mode to another: The enchantment that Son de Madera wove through their stage performance was transformed into group participation down on the floor.

I had bought new shoes with hard soles in hopes that I could move my feet faster and make some kind of a sound on the tarima. I was a little intimidated, though, to see how many good dancers there were. In addition to talented locals who I had seen dance in the workshops (Iris, Teresa, Eduardo, Monica, John, Trisha, and the older fellow vestido de jarocho who was getting off all night) there were the jaraneros from Santa Ana (Carolina Sarmiento, her brother Luis, and Anita, Carmen, and Pedro). So there was some great dancing on the tarima. Martha encouraged me to dance, so I took heart and gave it a try in one of those songs (was it “Nicholas”?) where one man is in the middle and there are four women around him. I didn’t have a chance against the four women, as far as dancing was concerned, but I felt a lot of love from the people around the tarima who called my name and encouraged me (Russel Rodriguez was yelling about my new shoes). I danced again later when Iris grabbed me and took me up on the tarima, and I tried to hold my own with an encouraging partner, but boy do I have a lot to learn! Iris and I had danced to salsa at the Century Ballroom the night before, which was more on my turf, musically and dancingly; so now I was taking my turn on her turf. I’m glad I tried to dance, and not just play the marimbol.

I also had a great time playing the marimbol. I felt as though I gave energy to the music, finding melodies and rhythms that supported the groove. Playing the marimbol by itself isn't very exciting, but playing it with jaranas makes the marimbol’s sound come alive and gives me ideas for what to play.

Near the beginning of the fandango I was playing marimbol when I caught 4-year-old Vivi’s eye as she watched from the edge of the tarima in wonder. She came over to me and I stopped playing to hold her while she watched and moved to the music. Irene Gomez leaned over my shoulder to comment on how beautiful Vivi was, how she wanted to dance. Later I saw Vivi on stage with Alberto’s 10-year-old brother AJ (I think that’s what he told me when I asked his name), and Vivi was holding a requinto while AJ danced. AJ had been Alberto’s “hype man” in Alberto’s opening performance as a hip hop MC, and AJ was also deep into the music, dancing and playing congas. Alberto told me that it was a difficult time at home for AJ and he was happy to get his little brother involved in something positive.

One of my favorite moments of the night was when Paris got up on the tarima and started stomping a rhythm of his own. The musicians around the stage tried to find something to play along with him and we set up a groove for him to flow over. I saw Ramón working something out with Tereso next to him, and I played a line on the marimbol that could go with it and with Paris’ rhythm. Paris rapped for a while and left the tarima to huge applause. Then Maya came after him and did some freestyling too. It was a beautiful integration of different styles into the format of the fandango!

Another personal drama played out with Son de Madera’s bass player, Juan Perez, who spent almost the whole night playing the leona. After the fandango when we were taking pictures Juan kept his leona in his hands the whole time and made a point of showing it in all the photographs. Juan had never really taken to the leona until this trip, when he found one that just felt right to him, and now he was passionate about it. Between his love affair with the leona and sleeping in late for a whole month in the relative quiet of our basement (relative to his LA neighborhood, that is), Juan was riding high. Quetzal told me afterwards that Juan doesn’t usually stick around long at fandangos, and that reminded me of a funny conversation I had heard between him and Alex Chadsey earlier. Alex wanted to talk shop with a fellow musician, and he asked Juan if he had been involved for a long time in this movement that integrated music with social justice work. Juan said, “Well… I guess so…. I thought I was just playing music.” Juan was feeling the positive vibrations at last night’s fandango, though, and where there is joy, social justice can’t be far behind!

The experience overall was amazing, and I feel blessed to have participated and to have made connections with so many great people. The following night I had a great time hanging and talking about the fandango at Quetzal and Martha’s house with Carolina and Maya. I felt the comfort of family along with the enthusiasm of people working together on a project.

I also have to say that I had some difficult feelings about performing on stage, because Dingolay’s first number, “Princesa,” was pretty rocky. We didn’t really groove (it’s a tricky tune) and that made it hard for Marisol to remember her chords, and hard for me to find ideas for my solos. But the more I reflect on the whole event the more I think about the second number, a version of “Manicero” in which Ramón soloed and we sang a little bit of a coro that Marisol invented. I played güiro for a while, and Juan on the bass and Martha on the congas were solid there with me and Marisol. I could see, even looking into the stage lights, how people were dancing and moving with our music, and if we hadn’t been conscious of keeping to our 10-minute limit we could have stayed in that groove for a good while. I think the whole experience of the fandango, and my reflections on it, helped me to focus much more on the successes of our stage appearance and less on its failures. That’s something I could have used a lot more of during my classical music training when I was a kid. That said, my classical singer mother was there along with my Dad, and Mom really seemed to enjoy the fandango and was eager to talk about the music. It was great to feel her enthusiasm, too.

These were some of my experiences of convivencia at our fandango with Son de Madera.

Remembering

2009-11-01T19:06:00.000-08:00

I’m extremely self-conscious of my lack of musical ability and had I known that I would be required to participate in any sort of music making, I probably would have quickly scurried away before I enrolled in HUM 595B. That said, the fact that after the first day of class I was told I was brave (I definitely would have gone with stupid at the time) for venturing into the world of Son Jarocho without any music background left me with a sense of obligation to at least give this a go. I’m still amazed Rubi didn’t give up on me after the first hour, even after having to re-explain half the most basic steps to me. I’m more amazed that the people I had met at the workshops where pushing me to go up on the tarima even after having witnessed my poor sense of rhythm (which I would like to point out is improving).

It is that sense of welcome that has awed me the most about this entire experience. Rarely have I felt so comfortable in such a new and foreign setting as I have with the Seattle Fandango Project. As a new-comer to Seattle, I can’t imagine a better community to have stumbled into.

Documenting:

In documenting this experience, I am writing a collection of short, snap-shot like descriptions and stories relating to the fandango based on things I’ve observed at the workshops, discussions, and the fandango itself, which will be accompanied by a series of sketches.

Relating to my field:

Studying museology I have come to believe that central to the museum’s mission is the celebration of life, culture, and communities. Museums, especially community-based museums, should more closely resemble community and cultural centers than the traditional museum does. Therefore, being able to host and promote workshops, presentations, performances, and celebrations is central to the museum’s role. This is on top of the already understood role of the community-based museum to record and present the story of its community, through oral histories as well as objects.

A question:

As my participation has so far been limited to the tarima, I’m curious to know what has it been like for those learning to play (and compose) the sons?

Thoughts on the Alma en la Tarima presentation

2009-10-30T13:25:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on The Seattle Fandango Project:

A lot came together for me tonight at the Alma en la Tarima talk. Several insights:

On a very personal basis-

I am embarrassed by my poor Spanish and get tongue-tied because of it. I also realize that I put on some kind of “professional armor” in academic settings that this experience challenges. The warm greetings in the spirit of community and Convivencia remind me of my roots in my own Italian-American extended family. I fear that I have forgotten what it is like to be in a predominantly “Latin” space over years of being here in Seattle. This space is also culturally quite different than the other participatory music and dance communities I participate in.

On Convivencia-

Over and over, I am delighted by how thrilled people are to be part of this- faculty, students, and community members alike. So blown away that Son Del Centro is coming from Santa Ana that it gives me the chills. It is powerful to realize that we are becoming part of a much larger movement connected to deep roots.

On the talk itself-

Fascinated by the discussion regarding identity in the context of Fandango Sin Fronteras. What will we create here in Seattle? What does it mean to participate in this project and not be connected by blood to Mexico? How does this feel for all of the participants involved?

So powerful to have the social justice implications called out regarding participatory music and dance. To see the transnational lines connecting communities in a living, breathing tradition.

It is also always beautiful and deeply healing to watch/participate in women dancing together.

I often remember looking at a photo at SAM of an African community dancing and mourning with a friend that there were no real spaces for this in mainstream American culture. This is a powerful antidote to isolation, depression, powerlessness. It is a powerful connection to joy.

Loved Michelle’s question that wasn’t taken up- exploring the fact that while this tradition is in fact a cultural legacy of colonialism, it has been transformed into a counter-hegemonic site of cultural strength and political resistance to the nation-state and mainstream media. The process by which this occurred is a fascinating line of inquiry…

Questions emerging regarding documenting this on the web-

Do we want to consider building a website that serves the entire Fandango Sin Fronteras network?

What does this transnational community desire or need in this regard?

FANDANGO

2009-10-28T07:50:00.000-07:00

This is the last week of Son de Madera's residency, so I hope everyone is planning to take advantage of the workshops, the Thursday evening discussion, and the concert/fandango on Friday!

I would like to see all of you contributing to on-line discussions and documentation, so please check our class discussion board and add your comments and ideas. From the conversation between Cary and Valerie there it sounds as though we should go ahead and start now to use the blog that Jeffrey set up as one of our primary modes of sharing ideas and information. Jeffrey, can you add everyone on this e-mail list as an author on this site?

http://seattlefandangoproject.blogspot.com/2009/10/hum-595-b.html

I'll try to figure out how to link our blog to the SFP Facebook site, for which I'm an administrator--but I need you guys to kickstart the on-line work because you are the on-line generation and I am still working to get caught up! Again, please check the discussion board (and the SFP Facebook page) and start blogging and posting some of the work you've been doing.

Shannon

**********
Shannon Dudley
Associate Professor and Head of Ethnomusicology
University of Washington School of Music
206-543-6308

2009-10-28T07:48:00.000-07:00

Hi, all-

While at the workshop on Saturday, another interesting project occurred to me while watching Ruby describe the different stages of each son and how the dancing corresponds to them. I asked Cisco if there were any articles written that describe the expectations and etiquette if you will of participating in a Fandango Jarocho but he didnt know of any in English except for one book, which is held by UW libraries entitled Jarocho's Soul by Anita Gonzalez. This potentially could be another interesting project to do for a group to put on the website - a basic beginner's guide to participating in a Fandango. We now have tons of video footage and stills to work with. We could make a glossary, etc. Also, I think a short piece explaining the concept of the Encuentro would be great, too!

Web resources already in existence:

http://www.encuentrodejaraneros.com/501.html

http://www.conjuntojardin.com/son_jarocho/

http://latinola.com/story.php?story=454

Thanks,

Carrie

Caroline A. Lanza, M.S.W.
Doctoral Student, Social Welfare
UW School of Social Work
4101 15th Avenue NE
354900
Seattle WA 98105-6299

HUM 595 B

2009-10-11T12:58:00.000-07:00

Welcome