Schwetzinger Zeitung, Aug. 5, 2009
One gets closer through “contredance”…
[This is supposed to be some kind of ironic statement, but “contredanse” is the Frenchified word for the English “country dance”, and not “against-dance”]
“I can’t believe it to be here!” [ok, I had just been in the gardens before I came to teach the class and was filled with the joy that French gardens can produce in certain baroque dancers] Sarah Edgar shook from happiness, looked through the high windows of the northern compass-rooms [these rooms form part of the circle that is part of the formal design of the Schwetzingen palace.] and into the palace garden, which was spruced up with colorful summer flowers, orange-colored climbing roses, and blue geraniums. The third Schwetzingen Summer Dance Days have begun. And an American teaches historical dance from the 18th century [oh, for heaven’s sake]. The world has become a small place, one would say in such a moment. She finds herself in the summer residence of the elector Carl Theodor, who himself would not have been able to believe that the new and old worlds would find themselves unified by the historical dances of Jean-Baptiste Lully.
When Berit Kerber found out about the American dance-expert, she was skeptical at first. But this light skepticism flew away from her, when Sarah Edgar appeared. “One, two three, four—Plié—one, two, three, four—Elevé,” she urged the participants and pulled her weight up onto half-pointe. Sarah Edgar stands with her weight firmly in the earth, has it together, no-nonscense in her head, is concentrated, corrects each student’s position, and is very nice and accessible.
After ten minutes at the barre, they go into the center. “Now we learn the special steps,” says Sarah Edgar, who has graduated from the dance department at Ohio State University and is engaged by The New York Baroque Dance Company, and who also gives master classes in Cologne and has lent her knowledge as the assistant director at the Göttingen Händel Festival.
The mysterious broken arm… [!!]
Out of the stereo plays Bach, Händel, and Rameau. The next step for study is not so far from the Twist, because the heel and the toe meet [?]. “Step to the side and come together”—Edgar bends forward, looks down, and then looks forward again. Making contact a la baroque. Now quickly the “mystery broken arm” [I said the mysterious baroque arm!!!] must be explained, because it was indispensable for the court dances of the baroque and rococo. “And don’t forget, that you are wandering through the Schwetzingen gardens!” says Edgar as she walks with a lifted torso through the room.
Then, the dancers practice the steps two-by-two. “Breake Dance [this is what she thought was the English translation for contredanse. She only watched my class and did not actually interview me] is also a social activity”—explains Sarah in easily understood English [!!!], in order to encourage the approximately 20 participants to look at each other while dancing—a male partner would probably be welcome here [ugh].
However, the workshop participants must choose whether they would rather play the female or male role. “Here you can really dance with other people,” says Sarah Edgar, infecting the others with her enthusiasm for the court dances of the 18th century and bringing along her visualizations like “Venus help me!”, for a whole workshop course of dancing and smiling.
