Instead of spending hours staring at Cat Deeley and studying the lithe contestants on 'So You Think You Can Dance', perfect your own twists and turns during a class at the Ailey Extension, the recreational arm of the renowned Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater.
Meet Lisa Johnson-Willingham, former Ailey dancer and current Director of the Ailey Extension at the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. Having been a member of the dance theater for six years, Lisa has since moved on to choreograph some of the best pieces for dance companies such as Joel Hall Dance company, Cerqua/Rivera Art Experience, One World Dance Theater and many more.
When I was offered a complimentary class at the Ailey Extension a few weeks ago, I decided to sign up for something I had never tried before: capoeira. I'd been intrigued by this Afro-Brazilian martial-art-meets-dance-form since taking classes in college.
In a brightly lit studio tucked inside New York City's renowned Alvin Ailey dnace center, dozens of women and men sashay from one corner of the room to another to the beat of Bollywood rhythems, throwing their heads back dramatically.
My love of West African dance far exceeds my capabilities as a practitioner. No matter. Fifteen years had passed since my last class, and I was ready for another try. So one recent afternoon I wrapped a piece of African cloth around my waist and entered a packed studio at the Alvin Ailey extension center in Manhattan.
The Lost Girls learn the Brazilian martial art-dance, Capoeira, in NYC.
Attending Indian weddings and ending up the night sweaty and tired from hours of bhangra dancing have been regular parts of my weekend repertory since I was a child. The catchy music can entice even the most die-hard wallflower to move.
Whenever I read about people who are in thrall to a dance craze, my world suddenly seems too small. Oh, to dance the mazurka until my footmen are forced to carry me home on a makeshift gurney at dawn; oh, to spurn a dinner invitation to Scott and Zelda's because I literally cannot stop doing the Charleston.
Hip-Hop dancer and teacher Jonathan Lee shows you how to master floats, clides and slides.
Dance teacher Wayne Williams stood at the lip of the Newark Arts High stage, his back to the two dozen black-clad students lined up behind him. "Where are your hands?" he asked over his shoulder. "Out" they shouted. "Chin?" he called. "Up," they said. "Stomach?" "In," they replied a few giggles distupting their perfect unison.