Oh, to read the epic history of Irish dance! The visions conjured up of great battles in ancient times, oppressions overcome, chalices and stone crosses and illuminated books! The following is from Irish Step Dancing - a Brief History, by Don Haurin and Ann Richens of the Richens Academy of Irish Dancing in Ohio:
"Viking raiders destroyed most books from this period, thus there are few written records of any dances. However it is certain that one aspect of the Gaelic culture was music and dance.
"History records a variety of dances done by the Irish in the mid-1500s. These include Rinnce Fada or Fading where two lines with partners faced each other; Irish Hey, (possibly a round or figure dance,) jigs, likely in a group; Trenchmores (described as a big, free form country dance; and sword dances."
The history goes on to describe English suppression of Irish dancing, with the dry note, however, that Queen Elizabeth I was "exceedingly pleased" with Irish tunes and country dances.
A less sword-filled but more glamourously rural depiction of Irish dancing surfaces around 1750, wherein the travelling dance master roamed from village to village, staying with a grateful and hospitable family while teaching jigs and reels to young males in farm outbuildings, crossroads and kitchens. The young boys put their toe tapping to good use, dancing warning dances outside prohibited gatherings or Masses in pub cellars to alert those inside to approaching soldiers.
Things get even more flowery in 1893 with the founding of the Gaelic League and the revival of Irish culture. In 1929 we have the founding of An Coimisiun le Rinci Gaelacha, (the Irish dancing commission) that establishes rules for teaching and judging and competition.
And then - yes, I know we are skipping The Quiet Man and Maureen O'Hara and Danny Boy and nearly 70 years filled with exported Irishness here but bear with me - we have Riverdance! Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance, Bord Failte, Enya, the Cranberries. It would be difficult to imagine that the Celtic Twilight crowd could have remotely foreseen the Celtic International Marketing Phenomenon, but here it is. Irish dance is now more than Cool. It is hip, it is sexy, and it may lead to modern culture's drug of choice - stardom.
Which takes us to a grimy industrial section of North Hollywood, California. When you think of North Hollywood, do not think Hollywood. Think modern, Irish, urban blight. Think of a place where the signs point you to bargain-priced oil-and-lube jobs, and used tyres for sale.
In the midst of this place where cars sit on concrete blocks on front lawns, awaiting repairs, an effort is afoot to create an artsy neighbourhood. It is an effort that is arguably successful. Inside a parking lot with a chain-link fence sits the Art of the Dance Academy. This is where Martin Morrisey runs the Morrisey School of Irish Dance. It is where children and adults come every Monday night to learn and to practise and to dream.
At 6 p.m. Monica Sorce is proudly watching her daughter Dominique, aged seven, begin the class. The children's class this evening holds seven girls ranging from seven to 12 years of age. Some, dressed in black tights and T-shirts, have the taut bearing of true dancers-to-be. Others, slightly pudgy and decidedly not fleet of foot, have the slumped bearing of my-mother-is-making-me-do-this.
Some of them giggle as they practise their steps with the taped jig music playing. No matter. Martin, a master dancer, is as serious as a heart attack.
In this studio with two walls of mirrors, he is readying them for the next feis, the dance competitions that are sprouting up all over the US. Irish dancing schools are not limited to the US coastal centres of Irish immigration such as Boston. There are fully fledged Irish dancing schools in Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Iowa and Idaho. In fact, it is hard to find a state without one. (Exception: Wyoming. You'd have to head over to nearby Nebraska.)
At the feis, the girls will don traditional costumes. Moreover, they will wear their hair in ringlets, that elaborate hair costume that many thought went out with Darby O'Gill.
Not here in the US. "It's fun," says Kira Ott, 18, who has been studying for several years now. "I still do the poofy ringlet thing. It's part of the whole tradition."
Like many others at the Morrisey school, Kira's interest in Irish dance was triggered by her first viewing of Riverdance on video. "And you know what?" she says. "I found out later I'm part Irish!"
After the children's class, the adult class begins at 7 p.m., and it is mostly made up of middle-aged people. There is considerably more groaning, sharing of water, and sharing of aspirins about 20 minutes into the class.
Charles Shapiro is 45 years old and says he hadn't danced in years. "My daughter and I went to see Riverdance at the Pantages theatre and I loved it."
He sent his daughter Molly, now 10, to classes. And then he began. "It is a great father-daughter thing we can do together. The night before the competitions my wife does her hair up, the curls and the spikes. They love it."
Like most of the others, Charles has never been to Ireland and does not know a great deal about the culture. But he knows fun and good exercise when he sees it.
There are exceptions of course in the adult class. Karen Andrews has been playing Irish fiddle for years and listens to RTE on the Web. Karla Rausch started ceili dancing 12 years ago, plays the bodran, and dreams of the day she can actually visit Ireland.
What will she find when she does? The land of her imagination, of steeped traditions and ringlets? Riverdance has brought the world a powerful image indeed of Irish culture. One can only wonder how real it is.
