Bulgarian Dance In Migration

On the road, I typically write in Bulgarian. However, the introduction to my current book of essays summarizes some of my journeys. So, I share these stories here.

Why Am I Writing This Book?

I cannot think of a better introduction but to share my answer to my own question as to why am I writing this book. And I have a short and a long answer. The short one is: to provide an overview of Bulgarian dance in Bulgaria and in the United States with the intention to help students from dance departments.[i]

The long answer starts with a story.

[i] At some universities Bulgarian dance is included in the “world dance” or “dance and cultures curriculum.”

 

First Story

In the early 1990s I was a teaching assistant in cultural anthropology at St. Kliment Ohridski Sofia University, a fresh alumna with a master’s degree in Bulgarian philology and a specialization in folkloristics, but still a student. I was climbing the tall tree of philosophy and culturology, working at the same time as a full-time choreographer at a school and as an assistant choreographer at a student’s folk ensemble. These were very dynamic times – politically, economically, culturally, and in every possible way. It was the time of powerful street demonstrations and large public gatherings, slogans shouted out loud and strikes in silence, a time full of questions, uncertainty, but also hope. It was the decade after the fall of the Berlin Wall, a neither-nor period, a period of transition with the closure of factories, institutions, including folk ensembles, and activities considered to be bound to the political past. The migration wave to the United States and elsewhere was underway, gradually involving thousands of Bulgarians. Hundreds of thousands. A million, soon to be two million. Twenty years later I met some of these migrants. A considerable part of my field notes today rest on their memories.

The 1990s were also years of establishment of new institutions, private businesses, private schools and universities that responded to the current needs. Newly-emerged publishing houses began offering for the first time translated works of authors from the field of philosophy, anthropology, studies of culture, sociology, etc. that would never have passed the needle’s  eye of the previous censorship. The excitement from this intellectual freedom, the opportunity to express oneself, to start something new, to travel, was in the air, despite the unclear political stances of the newly-formed political powers and the severe economic crises.

My Alma Mater, St. Kliment Ohridski Sofia University – Bulgaria’s oldest and most prestigious university – responded to the political change by immediately omitting ideological subjects that had been forced to be taught there for decades. New programs and courses appeared. Among these was the program in cultural anthropology. Its founder was my mentor in folklore, Professor Jordanka Holevič – a doyen of folklore studies at Sofia University’s Slavic Department. I presented my first MA diploma paper to her and the scholars from her committee. My work was about the nestinari ritual and the present-day replicas of it. My major research question was: “Walking on glowing embers – a gift or an archetypical awakening?” This paper was given an “A.”

It seemed that Professor Holevič appreciated my non-conventional scholar’s profile and invited me to be her teaching assistant in the newly established cultural anthropology program. Because of her endorsement, I also became a returning lecturer to the Summer Seminars of Sofia University. The latter was a long-established program for foreign specialists in Bulgarian and Slavic languages and I taught music and dance folklore, theoretically and practically, there for   several years.

In the same period, the Fulbright Commission for Bulgarian-American educational exchanges decided to invite professor Holevič and her assistants to contribute to a particular welcoming program. The latter was going to be presented before the newly-arrived American teachers, students, and university professors. The way to contribute to this was to prepare long-length presentations on topics discussing various aspects of Bulgarian culture. This initiative was part of Fulbright’s practice to facilitate the process of cultural adaptation. For introductory lectures Fulbright would typically invite scholars who could provide an overview of Bulgarian history, culture, politics, economy, music, folklore, and more, in good English.

I was supposed to present Bulgarian folk music, dance, and costumes.

In the mid-1990s my English was rather plain, to avoid using another word. I had an advantage, however. I grew up singing and dancing. I was a long-time dancer and narrator who had presented songs, music, and poems before various audiences at home and abroad. With such a topic, I could not only stretch my English but illustrate. With the latter, I have been always at home.

I presented the map of Bulgaria and drew a vertical line to show the invisible “border” that helps allocating the eastern and the western main speech-dialects. I explained that this same “border” roughly divides Bulgaria into two major zones in regards to monophonic v/s polyphonic music: one-voice singing on the East, two-voice singing on the West (Central West and Southwest). Then I sang one tune, a drone. Then I invited my audience to join me. Then I asked the amused scholars to keep this drone and I “placed” a melody on the top of their singing (my example was from the region of Pirin). Then I explained that such a kind of singing may be found in the Central West and Southwest regions. Then I played my wooden pipe – dvoyanka (a double flute in which one of the pipes keeps a stable drone, while the other plays the melody), commenting on the fact that the dvoyanka is played only in the West. I called it with a smile “my metaphysical instrument,” an instrument through which the echo from the remote arche-times (the drone) co-exists in harmony with the later developed melodic line. Yesterday and today singing along.

I wrapped up this illustration with a comment that to grasp the various folklore manifestations, we need to have in mind folklore’s integrity.

Then I provided the characteristics of the Bulgarian folklore regions. I sang and clapped to symmetrical and asymmetrical rhythms. I illustrated 5/8, 7/8, 9/8, 11/8, 13/16, and more, by playing duduk (a simple wooden flute)[i] and by singing. I showed steps and figures that go with particular dance patterns, provided the main features of Bulgarian dance folklore, played tapes with vocal and instrumental recordings, showed albums of traditional attires… I even presented examples of traditional woolen braids. Finally, I invited my exhausted audience to learn a few steps and to join the horo, the Bulgarian traditional round dance.

It was intense.

Apparently, I was doing well, however, because I returned as a lecturer the next year and some years afterward.

This episode would have probably been totally irrelevant to my intention to write about Bulgarian dance in Bulgaria and the United States, if something rather important, like a river changing its course, had not happened along the way.

In 2004, among the Fulbright grant-holders was Dr. Gary Nyberg – a music theory professor and a wind orchestra conductor from the State of Washington. His main motivation to visit Bulgaria was to explore the ways in which Bulgarian symphonic composers incorporate Bulgaria’s “intricate rhythms” into their compositions. He also wanted to learn more about Bulgarian music and Bulgaria’s culture in general. It happened that I was the person to present to his group the variety of Bulgarian symmetrical and asymmetrical rhythms.  I did it my way – by providing illustrations and inviting my audience to keep a drone, clap to various meters, and dance. My examples did something else, however. They ignited the idea of a Bulgarian symphonic piece, inspired by Bulgarian asymmetrical meters, to be presented in the United States. This was to be performed by American musicians. It would be even more dynamic if it could include dance.

A year later I received an invitation from Lower Columbia College (LCC) to appear as a guest artist in the LCC Symphonic Band concert, scheduled for March 10, 2006. In its spring concert, this nearly 70-member ensemble would play symphonic music inspired by folk tunes from Central Europe, Eastern Europe, and Armenia. The grant for my appearance as a solo-performer was provided by Lower Columbia College Foundation.

The band director, Dr. Nyberg, and I had a few months to work on the details. This whole idea was thoroughly exciting. The emails were just flying. I was blown away by the mere thought that I was chosen to be the facilitator for the accomplishment of such a dream-like project. This was a special honor. Such a performance had never before happened, as far as I was aware, a Bulgarian symphonic piece to be performed in the United States by an American symphonic band. If it had happened, I was unaware of it; for sure, Bulgaria’s symphonic music was not the most popular music for bands in Washington and Oregon states; and, on top of this, was my choreography and dancing in front of the band.

The chosen pieces were “Rachenitsa” by Petko Staynov and “Dunavsko horo” (Danube Dance) by Diko Iliev, the first one in 7/8 (QQS) beat and the second – in 4/4. The 7/8 piece was selected to present an asymmetrical piece to the American audience and to also excite experienced musicians in the band who also play jazz. The 4/4-Danube dance was included because it was a popular Bulgarian dance; at the same time, its “regularity” could give “peace of mind” to less-experienced players who had never played anything besides classical music and standard symphonic band repertoire. With the second piece, there was also a possibility to work with dancers from the local Evergreen dance studio and to present a round dance, too.[ii]

The concert took place in the seventy-five-year-old theater in downtown Longview, Washington. The saloon was full of people. For the Bulgarian pieces, the entire band moved their chairs three feet up-stage. The solo-dancer appeared in a colorful costume from Thrace, brought from Bulgaria, and the students from Evergreen Ballet appeared in Bulgarian costumes borrowed from members of the American Balkan folk dance community in Seattle.

This plane didn’t crash. Our pioneering performance was enthusiastically received.

To be able to write analytical texts about Bulgarian dance in the past decade I am indebted first and foremost to my husband, Dr. Gary Nyberg. All my essays here, and other scholarly texts also, have been written since my moving to the States in 2008. This also includes my monographic book on the Bulgarian dance ensemble as a cultural phenomenon, published in Bulgaria in 2011.[iii]

My husband was the person who fully supported my work with the Bulgarian cultural organizations in Portland and Seattle by driving hundreds of miles weekly for years to facilitate my teaching. To practice my profession I was often “the absent wife,” traveling frequently to conduct workshops with American or Bulgarian students, children and adults, delivering presentations at universities, or participating in international scholarly gatherings in the States and abroad. For all his understanding, appreciation of Bulgarian culture, and support, I am deeply thankful.

As for my dance performance to Petko Staynov’s “Rachenitsa” and the American dance performance to Diko Iliev’s “Dunavsko horo” these may be listed among the rather unusual manifestations of Bulgarian dance in the United States.

[i] For playing these instruments I am indebted to Mihail Yordanov, whose professional career is deeply embedded in the music repertoire of Philip Koutev National Ensemble (formerly State Ensemble for Folk Songs and Dances. See about Yordanov in the post of Bulgarian National Radio (BNR) from November 23, 2014

https://bnr.bg/en/post/100487882/mihail-yordanov-music-is-infinite-art-must-be-respected-in-all-of-its-dimensions (accessed  May 23, 2020).

[ii] Journalist Tom Paulu and photographer Bill Wagner came to the rehearsal with students at Evergreen Dance Studio a few days before the performance and conducted an interview with me. His article appeared on the evening before the concert with the headline “Moving tradition: Bulgarian folk dancer in touch with her roots” – See Paulu, (2006).

[iii] This book was based on the doctoral dissertation that I obtained at the Institute of Art Studies, Bulgarian Academy of Sciences, previously to my migration to the States. It was published with a grant provided by the Bulgarian Ministry of Culture and with additional support by other institutions and individuals. Among the contributors were the Bulgarian Cultural and Heritage Center of Seattle (BCHCS), Bulgarians and Americans Bulgarian music and dance lovers). Their support was greatly appreciated.

 

Second Story

In 2002 I had just completed a two-year full-time research project, entitled “Folk dance today: field studies in Bulgaria, Macedonia, Serbia and Slovenia,” thanks to the financial support of the Research Support Scheme, Prague, Open Society Institute (2000-2002). After researching folk dance practices in urban and rural environments in these countries for two years, I had collected a vast amount of material. Then an exciting invitation arrived: to present music and dances from the Balkans at the Down Jersey Folklife Center.

The invitation came from Dr. Iveta Pirgova, director of this center[i] and a dear friend of mine. My accompanist was to be Angel Nazlamov, a virtuoso on the accordion from Plovdiv. Angel was invited to the States for a visit by his former music teachers and friends, now residing in Manhattan, New York. Iveta and Angel’s friends met and decided to invite us to the States as a duo. For our trip, I selected 30 dances from Bulgaria, Macedonia, and Serbia and sent my field recordings to Plovdiv. Angel learned the material and we recorded our first teaching CD.[ii]

Well equipped, in March 2003 we reached the East Coast. News spread fast via the EEFC (the mailing list of the East European Folklife Center). After our stop in New Jersey, we appeared in New York and Philadelphia. Angel was a wedding musician, tall and strong, he can play standing upright for hours, and it did not hurt that he looked like Bill Clinton. The American Balkan music and dance lovers that hosted us apparently liked the duo. “You, guys, rock! Are you coming again next year?”

We didn’t know.

Soon after this American adventure and my return to my teaching obligations (philosophy at a school) I was invited to present a paper related to present day Bulgarian dance at a conference organized by The International Dance Council, CID. The conference was supposed to be held on the island of Naxos, Greece. And there I was, catching a night bus from Sofia to Athens, reaching Athens in the dark, walking onto the port accompanied by a few dogs, and waiting on a bench for the opening of the port’s café. Finally, the morning broke. The ferryboat to Naxos opened its mouth and began gulping passengers and luggage in its midriff. I recognized some figures that say “a dancer” but I didn’t want to interact. I was looking for a place to close my eyes. We were about to spend six hours on this boat. We took off. I was on my way to find a quiet bench. And at this very moment I heard the voice of someone I met before: “Hey, Daniela, the conference already started on the upper deck! The musician began playing…”

This was the end of my plan to find a quiеt bench. I quickly put my contacts in, climbed up the stairs to the upper platform and, indeed, a wonderful group of musicians from Northern Greece was playing tunes that were familiar and dear to me. Open air, blue sky, sight of the sea, morning sun shining gently. A number of people were forming a line. I threw away my coat and jumped into the line. One dance, a second, a third… People from all over the world. It happened that I was dancing hand-in-hand with an American lady, also a conference attendee. “Pleasure to meet you.” “Pleasure to meet you.” Our conversation was pleasantly carried on during our dancing and afterward and I soon learned that my fellow-dancer, Professor Elizabeth Hanley, had just finished a research project about the role of the dance in the 1936 Olympic Games. During her investigations, she came across a Bulgarian group that took part in these pre-World War II Olympic Games.[iii] “How very interesting,” I said. “What do you research,” she asked. Here I shared that I had recently completed field studies in several Balkan countries and had the chance to present some of my material in the United States. “Ooh, I have to connect you with my former student, Bart Carpenter; I think he will be very interested in your material.”

Here on the horizon appeared a very important person, “uncle” Bart, who played a pivotal role in organizing my tours in the United States in the years that followed. Some of these tours were three-months long, and for most of them, I had Angel as my partner-musician.[iv] Organizing such long tours is extremely complex and time-consuming; it is even more so if the organizer also holds a full-time job. The engine behind Bart’s volunteer work as “impresario extraordinaire” however was his passion for music and dance and his generous heart – a big one.

I learned a lot during these coast-to-coast trips. I taught in New Orleans before and after Hurricane Katrina and returned there many times.[v] I was able to visit art and history museums in every state and city in which I was scheduled to present a workshop. One summer I counted 80-plus flights. During one of my visits to Nashville, the group of dancers and I were caught inside the dance venue for hours; outside the building, a tornado was just blowing away everything on the streets. As we sat on the floor, I passed out lyrics and we sang song after song, internally praying for the storm to pass. I spent a few days in Alabama alone in a one-room house that did not have electricity. Everything food-related was plant-based and locally grown. The house was in a forest; my hosts taught forestry in the nearby college. I had the incredible opportunity to taste a lifestyle entirely based on ecological principles.

I was fascinated by the opportunity to explore this enormous country and to meet so many different people. They had in common one thing, however. They loved to dance. And I loved to teach dances.

For my workshops, I would use the Bulgarian map to locate the villages and the areas of the dances I was introducing. My teaching material consisted of dances recorded during my field trips, or dances that I learned from dance descriptions and film archives.[vi] However my professional choreography education, established teaching methodology, etc. did not help me at all to write my dance notations properly in English. The American notation pattern was very foreign to the Bulgarian choreography school’s concept of first describing each movement (by naming it[vii]) and then listing the order in which these movements are performed. The translation of specific Bulgarian terms was especially challenging. Such an example was horo – the most characteristic Bulgarian dance that was translated as line dance, round dance, chain dance, semi-circle and circle dance. Another example was igra. This term igra is neither equivalent to game nor similar to play. It is not horo either. Here my first appearance as a Bulgarian dance teacher at Stockton folk dance camp (California 2005) helped me a lot to understand how to create descriptions that could “speak” to my workshop attendees.[viii]

On one of these trips I lost my passport. During another, the night before a weekend-long camp in Florida in the wilderness, for which I was invited as a featured dance teacher, I received an email that my father had passed away in a hospital in Sofia. I was my father’s girl. My father had great imagination and the skills to build something from nothing, always supported by my mother. He was the last person to give up a tough project. He was blessed with a sunny disposition and with the talent to sing, dance, play guitar, and whistle. He loved poetry. He had the most beautiful smile. He encouraged me to believe in myself. And it was so damn difficult to sing and dance during this freezing cold February weekend of 2007.

During these trips I also learned things about myself. I began to even more appreciate the constant love and support I received as a child.

While writing about my first teaching tours from the period 2003-2008 I am talking mostly about my encounter with American International folk dance groups across the United States. At this period there were not very many Bulgarian cultural centers, institutions, or sunday schools. The Bulgarian communities were not ready yet for united activities. This process was gradually launched during the second decade of this century. The data from my earlier experience nonetheless was very important to start grasping this “Balkan Fascination” (Lausevic 2007) in the United States and to observe the existing Bulgarian repertoire. It took a long time, however, before I felt confident enough to write any analytical commentaries on this matter.[ix]

There were appearances from the same period when I was invited to discuss topics that were rather serious – dance and politics.[x] Others were rather playful. Before starting to work with Bulgarian children in Portland (2011) and Seattle (2013), and before I ever imagined that I would crawl again with the little ones, as I had in my earliest years as a choreographer in the 1980s (playing as a rabbit, duck, frog, train, and other cheerful characters – to various rhythmic patterns and melodies), I appeared in several American schools, including Waldorf schools and kindergartens.

Sometimes I would start my presentation in Bulgarian. “Hello, I am ___.” After seeing the raised eyebrows of my curious audience, I would quickly provide an English translation and explain that I am Bulgarian, my native language is Bulgarian, and this is how this language sounds. I carried two large maps in a tube: a map of the world and a map of Bulgaria with the “blue eye” of the Black Sea; these were displayed on a wall beside each other. I would invite students to join me in studying the maps and locating their own state’s location. We would “fly” from “our“ state to New York, let’s pretend, then we would change planes, fly across the Atlantic Ocean, and land in one or another airport in Central Europe. We would then change “horses” again to reach Sofia, the Bulgarian capital. After landing we would check the names of Bulgaria’s neighbors and would look at the name of Bulgaria written in Cyrillic. Every conversation about Bulgaria’s folk music and dance in a Middle or a High school would start, naturally, with Bulgaria’s geographical location and brief historical remarks. When possible I would project a powerpoint presentation, also displaying albums, Bulgarian costumes, instruments, and coins.[xi]

Because of Bart Carpenter’s incredible support and Iveta Pirgova’s “sanctuary” on the East Coast (always welcoming me), I was able to not only travel from state to state and teach but to also conduct my first survey. It was called “Balkan dance questionnaire” and was conducted in the period 2004 – 2007. Some outcomes from these surveys are also included in this book.[xii]

My experiences, gathered during these years, remain a “powerful river” or springs, resources that pour into every single text on the Balkan folk dance phenomenon in the United States.[xiii] I am now reflecting on these sources and am extremely thankful for having had the opportunity to make first-hand observations on two very different phenomena: the American Balkan folk dance phenomenon, with its specific Bulgarian repertoire, and Bulgarian-in-North-America Bulgarian phenomenon in its relationship to the Bulgarian dance scene in Bulgaria.

The second stage of my research began with my affiliations with Podkrepa Bulgarian-Macedonia Association in Portland, Oregon (2011) and the Bulgarian Cultural and Heritage Center of Seattle, BCHCS (2013); the second decade of this century gave not only start of my cooperative work with Bulgarian cultural organizations but brought completely new experiences and research topics.[xiv]

[i] Dr. Iveta Pirgova has been a driving force behind this center for 20 years now, creating programs, and presenting cultures from all over the world. See https://www.wheatonarts.org/programs/down-jersey-folklife-program/ (accessed May 27, 2020).

[ii] Later we recorded several CDs together for which Angel also prepared a booklet with music notations.

[iii] See Hanley 2004.

[iv] In 2005 and the subsequent years I worked closely with the master bagpiper Vassil Bebelekov; some of my US tours were accompanied by him.

[v] Such visits also included going with members of Crescent City International Dancers to zydeco or other nearby dance clubs. A few of the folk dancers converted a zydeco tune into Paydushko during one of these visits and this was the most amusing scene.

[vi] There were very few exceptions to this. Such was the case with my choreography to the song “Smilyana mi se armasa”. This song was from the repertoire of the famous Bulgarian singer Lyubka Rondova. The melody (in 3/8) was composed by Rondova’s mother. I loved to sing this Macedonian tune at the end of some of my teaching sessions – not only because the melody was pretty but because the meter resembles waltz; everyone can easily recognize it and walk to it. This was one way to welcome to the floor both energetic and elderly dancers and to say “Thanks for having me.” It was a very simple line-dance-choreography, a variation of walking steps, that I explicitly named “a choreography.” Apparently, people enjoyed this melody and began asking for a recording. In 2008 I recorded the song (with accordion composer, Vladimir Mollov, and tambura master, Stoyan Kostov, in Pittsburgh) and included it in my CD, “I give you my heart, I give you my soul.” It happened that during my teaching appearance at Stockton Dance Camp in 2008 I was asked by several camp attendees to add “Smilyana” to my “main” dance teaching repertoire; that was to be video-recorded and distributed among the groups afterwards. From everything I ever taught in California, “Smilyana” remained the most popular dance. This was paradoxical (although I am aware of the reasons). My deepest desire was to bring to the States village dances that represent my homeland’s traditional dance culture. However, the choreography won.

[vii] See on this matter “Bulgarian choreographer speaking” in the third chapter.

[viii] Thanks to the editorial committee of Stockton folk dance camp.

[ix] See  “Balkan folk dance phenomenon in the United States: a few analytical observations” in chapter 4.

[x] Such topics were “Bulgarian folklore in the post-communist era.” Duke University, Centre for Slavic, Eurasian and East European studies, February 13, 2007; “Folk dance and folk dancing in Bulgaria: a historical perspective.” Lecture and workshops. Susquehanna Folk Music Society, with the support of National Endowment for the Arts, for series of lectures and workshops, Harrisburg. February-March 2007.

[xi] Such was the case with my teaching in Dayton, Ohio. “The students were transported to Bulgaria” (Meisinger-Reiff 2008). Sessions with Huber Heights students became possible because of a grant received through the Dayton Foundation (sponsored by Leslie Hyll and Edmund Cordray, active members of the Miami Valley Folk Dancers, and, also my generous hosts). Other examples from before 2008 include school sessions in Albuquerque, New Mexico, Waldorf schools, and more. After I moved to the States I appeared in high schools in Juno, Alaska, Portland, Oregon, took part in two Pourparler (http://nfo-usa.org/pourparler/, accessed May 25, 2020) camps for music teachers and educators, taught classes at Evergreen Dance Studio in Longview, WA (“Folklore for little folks,” 4-5-year-old), and appeared several times as a dance educator at art festivals in Centralia, WA.

[xii] See “Bulgarian dance style(s) in migration” in this volume.

[xiii] For this rich experience I am grateful to very many American international folk dance communities, cultural organizations, and individuals. I am also thankful to several universities that hosted a presentation (or series of presentations) that were related to Bulgarian music and dance (Blair School of Music at Vanderbilt University, Nashville; the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA); Duke University, Durham, North Carolina; University of Southern Indiana, Evansville, Indiana; Marlboro College, Vermont; University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, Alabama; Lower Columbia College, Longview, Washington; Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah; Gallatin School, New York University (NYU); Western Washington University (WWU), Bellingham, WA; University of Washington (UW), Seattle, WA.

[xiv] The essay “What is your name?” specifically addresses the naming of the newly established groups in the US and Canada.

 

Third Story

Sofia, 2012. I am visiting my mother and my daughter, Ana-Maria. Ana-Maria, a student in sociology at New Bulgarian University (NBU) at that time, was also taking dance classes at NBU. She shared with me a documentary movie recorded by a friend. It was a beautiful film. It included dance scenes and interviews with the American choreographer Kathryn Posin and interviews with some of the performers. “You know, mum, the choreographer is going to teach a class at NBU and I am going to attend it. Why don’t you join me?”

New Bulgarian University. I was familiar with the campus; I taught dance folklore there for nearly four years. I recognized Kathryn sitting on a bench. I approached her to say hello and to congratulate her on her work. She invited me to join her and the conversation began.

I learned that Kathryn had spent several months in Bulgaria. She was on a Fulbright Fellowship that supported the idea of putting on stage her Stepping Stones and Scheherazade with the Bulgarian National Ballet.[i] Kathryn was very impressed by the fact that Bulgarian artists, who were so challenged economically, demonstrated such high professional standards and dignity. She was amused by Bulgaria and its contrasts, fascinated by the richness of Bulgarian culture. “What do you do for work,” she asked?

It happened that Kathryn was also a professor of world dance and choreography at the Gallatin School, New York University. Apparently, her stay in Bulgaria sparked further interest in my country and she decided to include Bulgarian dance in her world dance program upon her return to the States. She invited me to be her guest in her apartment in Manhattan. I needed to prepare a lecture-demonstration and my list of dances to teach. In her letter of invitation, however, there was one more paragraph: “Please, send me 20 pages about Bulgarian dance; it doesn’t need to be something of your own, you may combine texts written by others that provide an overview of Bulgarian music and dance. I need to prepare a textbook for my students.”

She could not have possibly imagined how challenging this request was. There were indeed books and articles from the 1970s about Bulgarian dance, written by Bulgarian specialists and translated into English. But these were written so long ago! The language was “old”, the translation often sounded awkward, and I sincerely doubted that a young person will find these texts especially engaging. Shall I translate these articles anew? Shall I retype them with additional commentaries?

I didn’t have time for such an endeavor. So, I selected a few pages that I believed would serve as a guide, created a list of links to platforms  that properly (to me) presented Bulgarian history and culture in brief, and included websites[ii] that had descriptions of Bulgarian music and dance, Bulgarian folklore regions, Bulgarian customs and traditional attire. I knew I was going to have a powerpoint presentation before my class so I can illustrate and comment upon my examples.

My presentation was received really well. A special guest came – professor Allegra Fuller Snyder whom I first met in person during the Symposium of the ICTM study group on ethnochoreology[iii] held at The Irish World Academy of Music & Dance in Limerick, Ireland (2012). I could not have been more pleased with her comments and her endorsement of my work. Professor Snyder was a legendary figure; in the period of my first trips to the States when I began gradually learning who is who, and what is what, I encountered professor Snyder’s public lecture on YouTube. And when I met her in person in 2012, with the chance to listen to her, talk to her and walk with her, I could not believe I had such an honor and privilege.

The next spring semester Bulgarian dance was again included in Kathryn’s world dance program.

Years passed. Busy ones. My essays here address the dynamics of these years in relation to dance and the Bulgarian cultural activities throughout the United States. Since Kathryn’s request, I kept reminding myself, “I have to write an up-to-date introduction to Bulgarian dance, I have to… I must. Someone else may require such a document.” And I was looking at the folder created in 2013 entitled “Bulgarian dance in 20 pages,” overloaded with articles that “I may use one day.”

By the end of the winter of 2020, the entire world faced unprecedented pandemic challenges; teaching dance online was only one of the many changes and challenges that occurred. And the day for re-opening of the above fat folder arrived. Although not in the way and not under the circumstances I, or anyone else, would have imagined. This time the “push” came from Western Washington University (WWU).[iv] For my online class with WWU students (April 2020), I needed to provide a written text about Bulgarian dance that would accompany my recorded one-hour teaching session. This time there were no excuses.

Why am I writing all these above stories, though?

Well, first and foremost, to clarify where I am coming from while presenting and analyzing Bulgarian dance in the United States, a phenomenon of great complexity. It is almost obligatory for a scholar with an inclination to do anthropology to clarify her background and approaches. In my case it felt, indeed, like an obligation at the beginning. But, after the first sentences, the stories simply unfolded and I set them free.

[i] Kathryn was invited by the Cultural Bridges Association to participate in the “American Ballet for Bulgaria” program; the project was hosted by the Sofia National Ballet of Bulgaria and funded by America for Bulgaria Foundation. See https://www.broadwayworld.com/bwwdance/article/Sofia-National-Ballet-of-Bulgaria-Premieres-Kathryn-Posins-SCHEHERAZADE-thru-April-29-20120422 (accessed May 26, 2020).

[ii] For example, https://eliznik.org.uk/, a site administrated by Liz Mellish and Nick Green, colleagues-ethnochoreologists.

[iii] The study group on ethnochoreology is the largest study group of the International Council for Traditional Music (ICTM) at UNESCO.

[iv] My appearances at WWU have a specific background that is related to Koleda ensemble (1967-1974) that is Seattle’s (and American, more broadly) one-of-a-kind Balkan phenomenon. Penny Hutchinson, WWU professor, was a former Koleda ensemble member. Along with Mark Morris who was also Koleda member back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, she developed a professional career as a modern dance choreographer and dancer; her (and Morris’s) appreciation for Bulgarian and Balkan dance however never died. In 2010 I was recommended to Penny by another Koleda member, Rick Horne, who also pursued a career in dance. The influence of Koleda ensemble is specifically addressed in the essay “There will not be another Koleda:” (folk dance) narratives and the study of dance.

 

Acknowledgements

For my travels and research in the United States I am indebted to many people. By sharing my stories I wanted to mention at least several names with my deepest thankfulness.

I am particularly grateful to the pioneering work of musicologist and ethnochoreologist Raina Katzarova, music theorist Stoyan Dzhudzhev, and the works of esteemed scholars Anna Ilieva, Iskra Racheva, and Svetlana Zaharieva that helped me when I prepared the review on Bulgarian dance (the first essay).

My scholarly lenses are attuned to contemporary trends in dance research when a dance is seen and analyzed in its specific context and with its own terms. An eye-opening moment for me – in realizing the complexity and the beauty of dance scholarship – was my attendance in the 22nd Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Ethnochoreology in Szeged, Hungary, 2002. I have been an active member of this study group ever since.[i] I learned from many colleagues and I am indebted to many. If I have to mention a few names only of foreign scholars who left memorable impression on me, these, along with Allegra Fuller Snyder, would be Elsie Ivancich Dunin and Anca Giurchescu.

As for my personal lenses… They allow me to clearly see the happy faces of people dancing together while holding hands. And they also help me to write these essays.

[i] Fruitful milieu for scholarly discussions also include the symposiums of the ICTM study group on music and dance in Southeastern Europe, the larger symposiums of the International Council for Traditional Music (ICTM) in general, the annual meetings of the Dance Studies Association, American Folklore Society, American Anthropological Association, and others.

 

Bibliography

Hanley, Elizabeth. 2004. “The Role of Dance in the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games: Why Competition became Festival and Art became Political.”  Seventh International Symposium for Olympic Research Proceedings. London, The University of Western Ontario, Canada, 133–140.

Laušević, Mirjana. 2007. Balkan Fascination. New York: Oxford University Press.

Meisinger-Reiff, Bethany. 2008. “Fifth-graders step into Bulgaria.” Dayton Daily News, January 25, 2008 (unavailable online, May 27, 2020).

Paulu, Tom. 2006. “Balkan songs & dances: LCC Symphonic Band concert will showcase the folk music of Bulgaria,” section p. C1; “Balkan: tricky beat makes playing music a challenge,” p. C3, The Daily News, Longview, Washington (www.tdn.com), March 9, 2006.

 


[i] At some universities Bulgarian dance is included in the “world dance” or “dance and cultures curriculum.”

[ii] For playing these instruments I am indebted to Mihail Yordanov, whose professional career is deeply embedded in the music repertoire of Philip Koutev National Ensemble (formerly State Ensemble for Folk Songs and Dances. See about Yordanov in the post of Bulgarian National Radio (BNR) from November 23, 2014

https://bnr.bg/en/post/100487882/mihail-yordanov-music-is-infinite-art-must-be-respected-in-all-of-its-dimensions (accessed  May 23, 2020).

[iii] Journalist Tom Paulu and photographer Bill Wagner came to the rehearsal with students at Evergreen Dance Studio a few days before the performance and conducted an interview with me. His article appeared on the evening before the concert with the headline “Moving tradition: Bulgarian folk dancer in touch with her roots” – See Paulu, (2006).

[iv] This book was based on the doctoral dissertation that I obtained at the Institute of Art Studies, Bulgarian Academy of Sciences, previously to my migration to the States. It was published with a grant provided by the Bulgarian Ministry of Culture and with additional support by other institutions and individuals. Among the contributors were the Bulgarian Cultural and Heritage Center of Seattle (BCHCS), Bulgarians and Americans Bulgarian music and dance lovers). Their support was greatly appreciated.

[v] Dr. Iveta Pirgova has been a driving force behind this center for 20 years now, creating programs, and presenting cultures from all over the world. See https://www.wheatonarts.org/programs/down-jersey-folklife-program/ (accessed May 27, 2020).

[vi] Later we recorded several CDs together for which Angel also prepared a booklet with music notations.

[vii] See Hanley 2004.

[viii] In 2005 and the subsequent years I worked closely with the master bagpiper Vassil Bebelekov; some of my US tours were accompanied by him.

[ix] Such visits also included going with members of Crescent City International Dancers to zydeco or other nearby dance clubs. A few of the folk dancers converted a zydeco tune into Paydushko during one of these visits and this was the most amusing scene.

[x] There were very few exceptions to this. Such was the case with my choreography to the song “Smilyana mi se armasa”. This song was from the repertoire of the famous Bulgarian singer Lyubka Rondova. The melody (in 3/8) was composed by Rondova’s mother. I loved to sing this Macedonian tune at the end of some of my teaching sessions – not only because the melody was pretty but because the meter resembles waltz; everyone can easily recognize it and walk to it. This was one way to welcome to the floor both energetic and elderly dancers and to say “Thanks for having me.” It was a very simple line-dance-choreography, a variation of walking steps, that I explicitly named “a choreography.” Apparently, people enjoyed this melody and began asking for a recording. In 2008 I recorded the song (with accordion composer, Vladimir Mollov, and tambura master, Stoyan Kostov, in Pittsburgh) and included it in my CD, “I give you my heart, I give you my soul.” It happened that during my teaching appearance at Stockton Dance Camp in 2008 I was asked by several camp attendees to add “Smilyana” to my “main” dance teaching repertoire; that was to be video-recorded and distributed among the groups afterwards. From everything I ever taught in California, “Smilyana” remained the most popular dance. This was paradoxical (although I am aware of the reasons). My deepest desire was to bring to the States village dances that represent my homeland’s traditional dance culture. However, the choreography won.

[xi] See on this matter “Bulgarian choreographer speaking” in the third chapter.

[xii] Thanks to the editorial committee of Stockton folk dance camp.

[xiii] See  “Balkan folk dance phenomenon in the United States: a few analytical observations” in chapter 4.

[xiv] Such topics were “Bulgarian folklore in the post-communist era.” Duke University, Centre for Slavic, Eurasian and East European studies, February 13, 2007; “Folk dance and folk dancing in Bulgaria: a historical perspective.” Lecture and workshops. Susquehanna Folk Music Society, with the support of National Endowment for the Arts, for series of lectures and workshops, Harrisburg. February-March 2007.

[xv] Such was the case with my teaching in Dayton, Ohio. “The students were transported to Bulgaria” (Meisinger-Reiff 2008). Sessions with Huber Heights students became possible because of a grant received through the Dayton Foundation (sponsored by Leslie Hyll and Edmund Cordray, active members of the Miami Valley Folk Dancers, and, also my generous hosts). Other examples from before 2008 include school sessions in Albuquerque, New Mexico, Waldorf schools, and more. After I moved to the States I appeared in high schools in Juno, Alaska, Portland, Oregon, took part in two Pourparler (http://nfo-usa.org/pourparler/, accessed May 25, 2020) camps for music teachers and educators, taught classes at Evergreen Dance Studio in Longview, WA (“Folklore for little folks,” 4-5-year-old), and appeared several times as a dance educator at art festivals in Centralia, WA.

[xvi] See “Bulgarian dance style(s) in migration” in this volume.

[xvii] For this rich experience I am grateful to very many American international folk dance communities, cultural organizations, and individuals. I am also thankful to several universities that hosted a presentation (or series of presentations) that were related to Bulgarian music and dance (Blair School of Music at Vanderbilt University, Nashville; the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA); Duke University, Durham, North Carolina; University of Southern Indiana, Evansville, Indiana; Marlboro College, Vermont; University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, Alabama; Lower Columbia College, Longview, Washington; Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah; Gallatin School, New York University (NYU); Western Washington University (WWU), Bellingham, WA; University of Washington (UW), Seattle, WA.

[xviii] The essay “What is your name?” specifically addresses the naming of the newly established groups in the US and Canada.

[xix] Kathryn was invited by the Cultural Bridges Association to participate in the “American Ballet for Bulgaria” program; the project was hosted by the Sofia National Ballet of Bulgaria and funded by America for Bulgaria Foundation. See https://www.broadwayworld.com/bwwdance/article/Sofia-National-Ballet-of-Bulgaria-Premieres-Kathryn-Posins-SCHEHERAZADE-thru-April-29-20120422 (accessed May 26, 2020).

[xx] For example, https://eliznik.org.uk/, a site administrated by Liz Mellish and Nick Green, colleagues-ethnochoreologists.

[xxi] The study group on ethnochoreology is the largest study group of the International Council for Traditional Music (ICTM) at UNESCO.

[xxii] My appearances at WWU have a specific background that is related to Koleda ensemble (1967-1974) that is Seattle’s (and American, more broadly) one-of-a-kind Balkan phenomenon. Penny Hutchinson, WWU professor, was a former Koleda ensemble member. Along with Mark Morris who was also Koleda member back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, she developed a professional career as a modern dance choreographer and dancer; her (and Morris’s) appreciation for Bulgarian and Balkan dance however never died. In 2010 I was recommended to Penny by another Koleda member, Rick Horne, who also pursued a career in dance. The influence of Koleda ensemble is specifically addressed in the essay “There will not be another Koleda:” (folk dance) narratives and the study of dance.

[xxiii] Fruitful milieu for scholarly discussions also include the symposiums of the ICTM study group on music and dance in Southeastern Europe, the larger symposiums of the International Council for Traditional Music (ICTM) in general, the annual meetings of the Dance Studies Association, American Folklore Society, American Anthropological Association, and others.