\n<\/p>\n
\u201cCan We Dance Here?\u201d That\u2019s the title of Soles of Duende\u2019s signature work. But it\u2019s also a question that the members of this percussive dance company often find themselves posing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re constantly asking it weekly, daily, trying to book a rehearsal studio,\u201d the tap dancer Amanda Castro said. Often, the answer is no because there\u2019s a fear that tap and flamenco shoes will damage floors, or that the group\u2019s rehearsals will be too loud.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople have hung up the phone on us,\u201d said Castro, who is one of three members of Soles of Duende, along with the flamenco dancer Arielle Rosales and the Kathak artist Brinda Guha. \u201cPeople cut me off in the middle of the word \u2018flamenco\u2019 \u2014 they\u2019re like, \u2018no, we don\u2019t allow that, sorry,\u2019 click.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
Sometimes the problem is about logistics. Once, after showing up to a festival and finding that they were expected to dance on carpeted metal risers, the performers dragged pieces of wood out of a dumpster and built a makeshift floor.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
It\u2019s a particular cruelty that a floor to dance on is so elusive for the artists of Soles, because to them, the floor is a beloved collaborator \u2014 the foundation that unites their three distinct cultural forms. \u201cIt feels like a holy place,\u201d said Castro, who, like many percussive dancers, considers herself both a musician and an instrument: In percussive dance, the sounds the body makes (tapping or stomping the floor, clapping the hands) are valued alongside, sometimes even above, how the body moves through space.<\/p>\n
Despite its name, \u201cCan We Dance Here?,\u201d onstage this week as part of the American Dance Platform showcase<\/a> at the Joyce Theater, makes bold statements rather than asking polite questions, as it situates the three styles into joyful and rhythmically thrilling conversation.<\/p>\n Soles of Duende was formed in 2016, when Rosales and Guha, already friends and occasional collaborators, were looking for a third percussive dancer for a performance at Dixon Place. Guha wasn\u2019t expecting to find someone at Run the Night, a competition dominated by hip-hop and contemporary dancers, but one performer caught her eye: Castro, the only tap artist there, who won first place for her performance to music by Vivaldi. (\u201cClassical music slaps,\u201d Castro said.) Later that night Guha messaged Rosales: \u201cI found her.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n The three dancers clicked immediately, united by the commonalities among their forms \u2014 the reverence for the floor, the overlapping rhythms \u2014 and by what the three dancers themselves shared. Each felt a responsibility to the tradition she carried; all were invested in what true collaboration might look like, hungry to push boundaries and ask difficult questions of their forms.<\/p>\n \u201cWe didn\u2019t know what we were going to make, but I just remember this feeling of ease that we\u2019d figure something out,\u201d Guha said. \u201cI\u2019d never felt that way working with anyone else. It felt brave and fearless, like there were no inhibitions.\u201d<\/p>\n After the Dixon Place performance, they were inundated with questions about where they would be performing next. They hadn\u2019t thought that far ahead. Eventually they landed back at Dixon Place, where they created an early version of \u201cCan We Dance Here?,\u201d which they continued developing and performing over the years.<\/p>\n The work of Soles is more of a salad than a juice, Rosales said \u2014 \u201cyou can still see and pick out the ingredients\u201d \u2014 more dialogue than fusion, and decidedly not a watered-down blend of the three traditions, each deeply rooted in a culture and history. Tap is an African American art form, flamenco comes from Andalusia in southern Spain, and Kathak is a classical dance from northern India.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n \u201cWe\u2019re not trying to reinvent the wheel,\u201d Castro said. \u201cWe\u2019re not trying to create a Soles of Duende form of dance or to do flamenco in tap shoes.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n She added, \u201cYou don\u2019t have to sacrifice any part of yourself to have a conversation with somebody else.\u201d<\/p>\n Experimenting with the boundaries of their forms without \u201cperpetrating a fraud,\u201d as Guha put it, requires constantly negotiating each tradition\u2019s distinctive musical, cultural and aesthetic values. Kathak and flamenco, for instance, are often dramatic and outward-projecting; both have extensive, codified upper body movements. Tap, on the other hand, can feel internal and almost private; dancers sometimes look down at their feet as they dance, faces lost in concentration, arms swinging naturally by their sides.<\/p>\n Flamenco can act as a bridge between Kathak and tap, Rosales said, since it has been influenced by both forms. \u201cIf I took my shoes off and did my footwork, it would look pretty similar to Kathak,\u201d she said. \u201cTap technique is different \u2014 the ankles are much looser, they lift their knees \u2014 but flamenco has adapted a lot of things from tap.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Traditionalists may see what Soles of Duende does as rule breaking. The three dancers are aware of that and strive to be clear about what the rules are so they can be intentional about when and how to break them.<\/p>\n Recently, at a residency at Chelsea Factory, they spent several days immersed in the three styles with the help of guest artists, exploring a folk dance from southern Spain, called Sevillanas, with the flamenco singer Alfonso Cid; the history of the shim sham \u2014 a step considered the national anthem of tap dance \u2014 with Jason Samuels Smith; and Kathak repertory with Parul Shah<\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n \u201cThey want to go deep,\u201d Shah said. \u201cThey really want to know the tradition they\u2019re working in, to pay homage and respect to it.\u201d<\/p>\n For now, that deepening includes the creation of a new piece (to be premiered in 2025) and, they hope, a \u201cCan We Dance Here?\u201d recorded album. What they really dream of, though? \u201cInfrastructural things,\u201d Guha said. More specifically: their very own dance floor.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n