Vianna
Vianna, vie (means ‘’life’’) and ‘’anna’’ (means full of grace)
Full of life and grace - a dancer at heart
MY PERFORMANCE HISTORY
THE NEAPOLITAN TARANTELLA
In southern Italy, in the small town of Baia e Latina near Naples, where my grandparents
were born, there is a legend that my grandmother used to tell me. The legend says that the bite
of the tarantula inflicts upon its victims the dreaded tarantolismo. These unfortunates are
doomed to dance the earth forever in a frenetic attempt to rid their bodies of the fatal poison
injected by the tarantula bite; that dance was called the tarantella. My grandparents immigrated
to Canada in 1957, making the transatlantic journey by ship. They landed at Pier 21, in Halifax
and then came to Toronto by train, to be welcomed by Zia Agnese, my father’s only sister who
had sponsored them. My grandparents settled in a rented apartment and as the story goes, all the
immigrants from their same town would gather on weekends, to relax from a tiring week of
strenuous work in the construction industry for the men, in the textile industry for the women.
These gatherings were filled with lots of good Italian food and drink, and most of all, dancing …
the tarantella was danced by all. It was a way of releasing energy, frustrations and reconnecting
with their cultural ties. In my grandparents’ and parents’ family photo albums, there are
numerous photos of people dancing the tarantella together. There is a particular picture of my
own mother and her cousin, as the tradition was passed onto the next generation.
FROM BREAKDOWN TO BREAKTHROUGH
Thrust into the unknown
A world of uncertainty and fear
Days, weeks, months,
Now almost a year
Easy to fall into a depression
In which most acts are those of aggression
Feels like I’m plunging into regression
Surrounded by others’ faces of non-expression
Too much isolation
I am overwhelmed by frustration
Long bouts of trepidation
I don’t understand; it’s now all speculation
I feel lost in the alienation
Never moving forward, too much procrastination
Frozen in time
I wish the clock would stop ticking
Am I the only one?
Do they feel as I do?
I certainly do hope that I am not the only one
Connected
Yet still disconnected
In touch
Yet still far from touch
Restrictions, contradictions
Conflicting emotions
That cause deep inner commotion
Then through slow objection
And much self-introspection
There is a way for redirection
When I consider certain corrections
As I look around in my own living space (at my space)
And to my own inner grace
I learn
That all I need is truly in my own place
There is nothing else to chase
In order to cope at my own pace
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Each new day brings more acceptance
As I seek more tranquility and repentance
There is hope in a new perspective
That holds dear my new objectives
For me to be more effective
In my goals even more selective
My new eyes teach me to breakthrough
For a renewed vision to construe
A new plan that is long overdue
Me, myself, moi … a new beginning to pursue
BOB FOSSE
When I first made the transition from gymnastics to dance, I attended a dance studio for intense dance training, but I also attended the Randolph Academy for the Performing Arts (RAPA) in order to learn tap and take part in musical theater classes. There I auditioned for the dance team, not knowing that I was the youngest to ever try out. Mr. George Randolph saw something in me and allowed me to join even though I was only 9 years old and the majority of the team members were 16-18 years of age. It was an interesting transition into the theater world coming from a pure competitive background, especially at such a young age, without having yet found my artistry or love for dance yet. That was a special year since it was RAPA’s 20th anniversary and so we learned ‘’Bye Bye Blackbird’’ which we performed at the Coffee House and also at the 20th anniversary Gala at the Royal York Hotel. I learned the routine with an open heart and an open mind and loved it, not knowing much about the routine’s history or style.
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Ten years later, I have recreated the delectable ‘’Bye Bye Blackbird’’ number, now an older and more mature dancer myself. I decided to relearn the original choreography I once performed at the age of 9, now having informed myself and studied the Bob Fosse style in depth. Rather than going through the motions and blindly learning a piece of choreography, I am now educated on the roots of the movements and perform them with intention and awareness. It is a highly controlled and stylized style that demands precision and research of the movement vocabulary. There clearly was a spark and fire in that little 9-year-old, but missing direction and understanding of one’s own body. With a better knowledge of myself as a dancer and overall person, and a sense of my own artistry, I am able to learn the vocabulary with clarity and depth of thought, and insert my own sense of intention and pleasure amidst. It is interesting to put the same choreography side by side performed so many years later, and reflect on the growth that has occurred. I no longer see a competitive dancer going through positions and steps, but rather a movement artist performing for herself.
Collaborative projects
