REPOST: A Step Is Just a Step

In her Dance World Takeover blog, Rebecca Brightly expounds on the art of dance, a must-read for all dancers and dance enthusiasts. 

Before I studied the art, a punch to me was just a punch, a kick was just a kick. After I’d studied the art, a punch was no longer a punch, a kick no longer a kick. Now that I understand the art, a punch is just a punch, a kick is just a kick. -Bruce Lee

Image Source: rebeccabrightly.com

Once upon a time, Bruce Lee was a dancer. He studied many forms of movement, rather than getting indoctrinated in only one “way.”

On our shelf sits my husband’s copy of Tao of Jeet Kune Do, the book this quote is from. As far as the internet can tell me, the quote (like the rest of the book) is strongly influenced by Buddhist philosophy.

This “punch is just a punch” quote has been on my mind lately. Here’s why.

Months ago, a commenter on this blog remarked to me (paraphrased): “I can tell you are not an advanced dancer because you use words like ‘steps’ and ‘moves,’ showing that you do not have an in-depth understanding of full body movement.”

The comment initially annoyed me. Go figure.

But after shrugging it off, I could only shake my head. I’m all too familiar with that brimming sense of superiority displayed by the commenter. I, too, once looked for weaknesses in others’ dancing (or words or ideas) so I could knock them down and feel better about myself. I still catch myself doing it.

But this isn’t a post about how humility is good and arrogance is bad. (Is that even true?) And I didn’t write this to tell off some commenter who will probably never read my response.

Instead, I want to use this space to explain what Bruce’s words mean to me in a dancing sense.

Phase 1

Before I made a serious study of dancing, I learned moves. They were simple; they fit together easily into patterns I could do with my classmates. They each had names, and they were always done the same way.

Image Source: rebeccabrightly.com

But I couldn’t do anything very challenging or creative with my dancing.

Phase 2

After I’d studied and struggled for some time, my patterns fell away. Steps and moves became movements that flowed into one another, with no clear distinction between them. My motion flowed from my center, from the ground, from my partner. The steps and their names were irrelevant, I just flowed.

I was one with my partner! I was inside the music.

The first time I read Bruce’s quote years ago, I knew instantly my dancing was right in the middle of it—in that “all is one” mind space, teaching complexity, getting deep into detail, and chasing bliss.

I could also see the wisdom of passing out of this second phase. I knew there was more.

Phase 3

Now that I understand partner dancing… What words should come after that? How exactly do I express my sense of simplicity?

Now that I understand partner dancing, steps are just steps. Moves are just moves.

The foundations of movement all relate to one another, but I can once again see them as separate concepts. The music is around me, and I am a distinct individual once more. The simplicity of understanding has returned; it’s exactly as I thought, only now I get how simple it really is.

Image Source: rebeccabrightly.com

 When I say “step” or “move,” those words are a deliberate choice. I’m familiar with the panoply of complex movement concepts dancers invent and promote. I promote certain complex ideas myself.

Bruce’s words express something I’ve been trying to understand about my process of learning: This cycle of understanding that goes from simple, to complex, and back to simple again.

What is the essence, the soul of the movement, the TL;DR?

How can I communicate so that the newest of newbies can grasp what I’m saying?

I simplify relentlessly.

Part of teaching is understanding where your students are in their learning. I don’t always get it right. Words that seem profound and deeply intuitive to me may seem simplistic to you. I may use the words I mean, but they are not always the words you need to hear.

That’s why I like the Tao of Jeet Kune Do. I don’t understand everything Bruce Lee writes. In fact, much of it I skim over and save for another day.

You’re welcome to do the same with this blog. Or you can wrestle with my words and leave impassioned, thoughtful comments.

You can also leave arrogant comments, which will annoy me. But I know where you come from. I know that feeling of resistance, and I can’t stop you from having it.

Besides, you may be right. Perhaps one day again, a step will no longer be a step, a move no longer a move. There is much more to learn.

Lou S. Habash loves jazz and is a jazz dance instructor. Know more about dancing by following her blog.

REPOST: Paco de Lucía, Flamenco Guitarist, Dies at 66

The  music world pays tribute to the world-renowned guitarist, Paco de Lucía.  Read more on this NYTimes.com article.
  
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Paco de Lucía, who was born into a musical family and grew up to become one of the world’s greatest guitarists, mastering flamenco music and finding new audiences by blending it with jazz and other genres, died on Wednesday in Mexico. He was 66.

His death was confirmed by a municipal official in Mr. de Lucía’s native city, Algeciras, on the coast of southern Spain.

Gaspar Armando García Torres, the Quintana Roo state attorney general, told Mexico’s Enfoque Radio that Mr. de Lucía had had a heart attack while on vacation at the Caribbean resort town of Playa del Carmen and died in a hospital, The Associated Press reported.

Mr. de Lucía established himself as a leading flamenco artist in the 1960s and ’70s, notably after forming a partnership with Camarón de la Isla, a singer who is widely considered to have revived and revolutionized flamenco in Spain. The duo released more than 10 records, both of classical flamenco and a fusion of rock and pop. Camarón de la Isla died in 1992.


Image Source: en.wikipedia.org
 
With the backing of bongo players and an electric bass, Mr. de Lucía produced one of Spain’s most familiar tunes, a rumba called “Entre Dos Aguas” (Between Two Waters), which was part of an album released in 1973, in the final years of the Franco dictatorship.

Mr. de Lucía was renowned for “the intensity of his concentration” and for the way he had “pushed flamenco’s traditional roots both backward and forward,” Ben Ratliff wrote in The New York Times in 2004 in a review of a de Lucía performance, with singers and a rhythm section, at the Beacon Theater in Manhattan.

Mr. de Lucía’s virtuosity was grounded in age-old flamenco techniques: hard-edge strumming, breakneck runs with every note sharply articulated, a touch that could be feathery or imperious, suspenseful phrasing and, most of all, a volatile sense of dynamics and drama.

He opened flamenco’s traditional boundaries to rhythms, harmonies and instruments from the wider world. Even when he was playing a tango, using jazz chords or backed by an electric bass, his music remained unmistakably and authoritatively flamenco.

“I am a purist within my aura of revolutionary, vanguardist or creator,” Mr. Lucía said in a 2004 interview with the Spanish newspaper El País. “I’m still a purist because I have always respected what I think is respectable. What I have is not the obedience the purists continue to have, but the respect for the essence, the old, the valid. Memory.”

He added: “What you do has to have credibility. No matter how far you go harmonically, no matter how crazy it seems, it has to smell and sound like flamenco.”

In the same interview, Mr. de Lucía said that the pressure to record frequently — something unknown to previous generations of flamenco performers — had compelled him to keep extending his music, “to keep growing and learning.” He insisted that his prodigious technique was never an end in itself.
“You must have enough technical dominion to forget about it,” he said. “That is when you can begin to express yourself.”

He was born Francisco Sánchez Gómez in Algeciras on Dec. 21, 1947, and aspired to play the guitar from childhood after receiving his first lessons from his father. When he was 14, he won an international flamenco competition and shortly thereafter made his first recording, “Los Chiquitos de Algeciras,” with his brother Ramón, who also played guitar.


Image Source: newsrender.barhashing.com
 
His Gypsy neighborhood inspired his stage name. It was full of children called Paco (short for Francisco), he said, so he was referred to as “the Paco of Lucía,” his mother’s name.
In the early 1980s he extended his longstanding collaboration with his brothers, Ramón and Pepe de Lucía, a singer, by forming a sextet with Jorge Pardo, Carles Benavent and Rubem Dantas, a Brazilian percussionist.

To modernize flamenco, the group introduced a new percussion instrument, the Peruvian cajón, a six-sided wooden box that they discovered while touring Latin America and that has since become a staple of flamenco music.

With Spain’s return to democracy, Mr. de Lucía increasingly spent time outside the country in the 1980s, often teaming up with leading jazz players, particularly the guitarists John McLaughlin and Al DiMeola. They toured worldwide, and their recordings included “Friday Night in San Francisco,” which sold more than a million copies.

In 1989 Mr. de Lucía performed at Carnegie Hall, where “his set of flamenco tunes and Andalusian melodies had the emotionally riveting quality of brilliant, impassioned conversation,” Stephen Holden wrote in his review in The Times.

In 2012, a double album of live concerts earned Mr. de Lucía his second Latin Grammy Award for best flamenco recording. His first came in 2004 for “Cositas Buenas” (Good Little Things), which features another major flamenco guitarist, Tomatito.


Image Source: music-bazaar.com
 
Mr. de Lucía received some of Spain’s most prestigious awards, including the Gold Medal of Merit in the Fine Arts in 1992 and the Prince of Asturias Award for the Arts in 2004.
Information about his survivors was not immediately available. A statement by his family, published in Spanish newspapers, said, “Paco lived as he wished and died playing with his children beside the sea.”

His death brought forth tributes in Spain and elsewhere. José Ignacio Wert, Spain’s culture minister, called Mr. de Lucía “a unique and unrepeatable figure.” The pianist Chick Corea said in a statement, “Paco inspired me in the construction of my own musical world as much as Miles Davis and John Coltrane, or Bartok and Mozart.” And José Mercé, a flamenco singer, said that nobody would reach Mr. de Lucía’s level in the next 200 years.

Lou S. Habash is a jazz dance teacher that loves jazz music. Know more about her by visiting this Facebook page.

REPOST: Alto Saxophonist Herb Geller Is Dead at 85 An important figure on the West Coast ’50s scene

Read about the death of an important figure in the L.A jazz scene from this JazzTimes.com article.

Image Source: HNOnline.com  

Herb Geller, an alto saxophonist who was an important player on the L.A. scene in the 1950s before settling in Europe in the early ’60s, died on Dec. 19 in a hospital in Hamburg. After undergoing treatment for lymphoma over the past year, he died of pneumonia, according to his son, Sam Geller. He was 85. The date of Geller’s death was the 51st anniversary of his marriage to his second wife, Christine.

Geller’s sound and attack—speedy, authoritative and emotive—stayed remarkably vital through the decades, and presented an alternative to the West Coast stylists he made his name among in the ’50s. Geller’s playing could evoke Charlie Parker but owed more to Benny Carter, Johnny Hodges and Lester Young. He released albums under his own name on Emarcy in the mid-’50s and played and recorded with a grip of midcentury greats, among them Chet Baker, Shorty Rogers, Bill Holman, Clifford Brown, Zoot Sims, Stan Getz, Max Roach, Maynard Ferguson, Booker Little, Louie Bellson, Barney Kessel, Jimmy Rowles and Buddy DeFranco, among others. He also worked with Benny Goodman and, later, Bill Evans, and appeared on recordings by a handful of iconic singers—Annie Ross, Ella Fitzgerald, Anita O’Day, Dinah Washington, Mel Tormé and Lena Horne. Along with his first wife and noted collaborator, the pianist Lorraine Geller, he was an “All-Star” at the Lighthouse Café in Hermosa Beach. Perhaps more than anything, Geller was a consummate working player who lived his life inside music: through one-nighters with big bands, at clubs, in L.A. studios, in burlesques, at basement jam sessions around the world.

Geller was born in Los Angeles in 1928, to a father who was a tailor and shop owner and a mother who played piano in a silent movie theater. He started on alto saxophone at age 8, and, by the time he entered high school, he was playing in a swing band and learning Glenn Miller by ear. At Susan Miller Dorsey High in L.A., his best friend was Eric Dolphy, with whom he played in the marching band. Before graduating he performed a brief stint, on tenor sax, with violinist Joe Venuti, and learned from pianist Joe Albany and Stan Getz while in his late teens. After working in bands led by trumpeter Jimmy Zito and pianist Jack Fina, he met his wife-to-be, Lorraine Walsh, at a jam session in L.A. in 1949. Their relationship burgeoned after Geller relocated to New York in the fall of that year. They married in 1952. Geller jammed and developed in New York and took a job in Billy May’s band, which led to he and Lorraine moving back to L.A. in 1953.

For the next half-decade, the Gellers were integral participants in the heyday of so-called West Coast jazz. They jammed with Jimmy Giuffre, Bud Shank and others at the Lighthouse, took part in the plentiful and lucrative studio sessions in L.A., led a quartet they billed as “The Gellers” for an Emarcy LP, and, in 1955, moved into a house in the Hollywood Hills. In 1958, the Gellers’ first daughter, Lisa, had a complicated birth that put the family in financial straits and placed tremendous strain on Lorraine’s health. (The year prior, Lorraine was diagnosed with asthma.) After half a year of rest, she took a job backing Kay Starr to offset their hospital bills. But in October of ’58, Lorraine suffered pulmonary edema and an asthma attack and died. She was 30.

While coming to terms with the death, Geller played with Benny Goodman (whose band he’d joined prior to Lorraine’s passing) in South America. He stayed in Brazil to play in jam sessions and, after spending time in Paris, settled in Germany in the early ’60s. There, he taught and performed in clubs and state-sponsored bands including the NDR Bigband. Geller remarried and had two kids—his daughter with Lorraine, Lisa, was raised and adopted by his sister’s family—and in the last few years of his life began returning to the States to perform. During his years in Germany, he recorded for labels including Enja, Fresh Sound and Hep.

Lou S. Habash is a jazz dance teacher with a passion for jazz music. Know more about her by visiting this Facebook account.
 
 

REPOST: 'Dancing With the Stars' recap: Return of the Maks; Leah Remini exits

Dancing With the Stars semi finalists Elizabeth Berkley Lauren and Valentin Chmerkovskiy were voted off last week. Read more in this Los Angeles Times article.

Image Source: latimes.com

It's like what's old is new again: The “Dancing With the Stars” Season 17 semifinals had each of the remaining five couples performing two dances to two versions of the same song. It also marked the return of the Maks. Bad boy of the ballroom Maksim Chmerkovskiy came back buttoned up and in a bow tie, sat between Len Goodman and a thrilled Bruno Tonioli, and offered up his two cents as a guest judge and an unabashed supporter of the Pros.

Too bad Elizabeth Berkley Lauren and Valentin Chmerkovskiy were voted off last week or we would have had the pleasure of witnessing another Brothers Chmerkovskiy interaction (though Maks adorably held up a 10 paddle after his little brother danced with Witney Carson after a commercial break).

Actress Leah Remini and Tony Dovolani lost a bit of the ballroom love as they were the latest couple eliminated from the competition. God bless Tony for resolutely keeping that frown upside down despite his less-than-pleased partner. Even “after 16 seasons … I’ve never looked so forward to practices every single day,” the Albanian stallion said. This, of course, meant fellow “in jeopardy” (but again, not necessarily in the bottom two) couple Bill Engvall and Emma Slater were going to the finals.

As were Amber Riley and Derek Hough, who regained the top spot this week. After getting the green light to dance with abandon from her doctor, the “Glee” actress was on a mission to redeem herself after a lackluster fortnight. And I’ve got to hand it to Derek in their Bruno Mars’ “Locked Out of Heaven” jazz number for coming up with clever steps that were heavy on the jazz hands but light on the knees. Len “Chuckles” Goodman simply pointed at Amber to “do it again.” Bruno said, “The sync was out of this world.” Carrie Ann said Amber reminded her of Einstein, and that the routine was so intricate it “felt like a mathematical equation,” she said. “And you solved it.” Maks said the routine was like a modern-day Bob Fosse number. And then he got his first boos for giving her a 9.

Kevin McHale and Chris Colfer spoke out in support of their “Glee” costar during a biographical segment. “She makes me think I could do something I couldn’t,” “Glee” creator Ryan Murphy said. Amber, however, had her own best line, saying if you have a passion for something, “Your gift will make room for you eventually.” And her love of dancing has really let her shine. “There was smoke on the floor but there was fire in that performance,” Len said of her Viennese waltz. Carrie Ann said Amber was “so special” in the way she interprets “the music as well as the movement.” Maks pointed out that Amber has “a guy who knows how to win. … You’re in amazing hands.” Amber and Derek received a 39 for their jazz routine, and a perfect 40 for their Viennese waltz. Total: 79 out of 80.

Corbin Bleu and Karina Smirnoff played with fire in their tango, starting out in mysterious capes in front of a trash can fire and then consuming the ballroom in flames by the routine’s end. Bruno said Corbin came out with the “power of an exploding volcano … but you lost the frame at times.” “That was hot and I would like to see that again!” Carrie Ann said. “I’ve never seen a tango danced with so much fury!” Maks liked the content and the wisp of fairy dust, and “I can overlook the fact that your butt was sticking out a bit,” he said. Len, however, was not so impressed with the all-consuming passion. “It was too full on!” he complained. “It was good as a performance … but as a tango it wasn’t really my cup of tea.”

Thanks to his family, Debbie Allen and Kenny Ortega, we learned Corbin was accepted to Stanford and had a good head on his shoulders. Carrie Ann, however, only had eyes for his body during his sultry stripped-down rumba. “Your body is a wonderland,” she said. “I’m so glad you took your shirt off. … You transported me to another world.” “The quality of movement was unbelievable,” said Bruno. “It was like watching a series of stunning sculpture in perpetual motion … the storyline was flawless.” Len liked the light and shade. Maks said Corbin had a huge advantage having a partner in Karina, Maks’ former fiancée and one of the “top 5 female dancers of all time.” All together now: Aw. Corbin and Karina received a 35 for their tango, and a perfect 40 for their rumba. Total: 75.

Jack Osbourne was having a tough start to the week. He was hampered with vision problems in his left eye and a bad headache — the very symptoms that got him diagnosed with MS. “It’s the beast I’ve got to live with, so you’ve just got to roll with it,” Jack said like a champ. So he and Cheryl Burke had to break up their training a bit this week. Jack admirably tried to own his pimp during his jazz routine to the Police’s “Roxanne.” But Carrie Ann said Jack was outside his comfort zone “and I can feel it.” Len thought it lacked a bit of finesse. Bruno likened Jack’s dancing to “catching a hot potato” and said, “Every move has to be extended to the maximum.”

Seeing Jack now, trim and fit and happy with his lovely wife and daughter and considerable ballroom skills, you forget how far the young Osbourne had come. He moved to California from England at age 12, was launched onto “The Osbournes” at 15, went to rehab by 17, and then was diagnosed with MS. He’s taken a licking but keeps on ticking, so it’s hard not to stand up alongside Cheryl and his family and root for him — and his terrific Argentine tango to “El Tango de Roxanne” from “Moulin Rouge.” “You were so in the zone,” Carrie Ann said. “Every moment done with passion and precision.” “This was pure Cheryl at her best,” Maks said. “Technical, no nonsense.” Len liked how Jack really came out and sold the dance. “The transformation is unbelievable” from the last dance to this, Bruno thought. “To actually dance with Cheryl at that level is really a great achievement. I want to kiss you.” Jack and Cheryl received a 33 for their jazz routine and a 38 for their tango. Total: 71.

Leah Remini didn’t want attitude from Tony Dovolani’s old friend Maks for her paso doble. Too bad she got a bit of shade from the regular judges for her Lady Gaga “Bad Romance” instead. Leah barely concealed her disappointment when Len said Leah played the routine too safe, Carrie Ann called it “a rough road for you,” and Bruno called out Leah’s two missed turns. Maks, however, said he would discount the turns because Leah tripped on her skirt. Though “I would like it to be a little more emotional,” he said, “because [Tony] looks crazy if you’re not.” Great perspective!

The Bensonhurst, Brooklyn native, mother of lovely Sofia, and friend to Chelsea Handler did not fare much better with her Argentine tango. The judges wanted to see more personality from the “King of Queens” actress. Bruno liked the intimacy — “Nice instrument you’ve got there,” the judge said. “You should play more often, my darling.” But Len didn’t think Leah “embraced the dance fully.” Carrie Ann acknowledged how far Leah’s come, but “you need to have more confidence,” she said. “You stop your movements short.” Maks agreed. “You’re a real woman and you bring exactly what the competition needs,” he said. “If on top the Leah that I know comes out, that will be a whole other performance.” Leah and Tony received a 32 for their paso and a 33 for their tango. Total: 65.

It’s bad enough Bill Engvall suffers from low scores and a painful injury. Why did he and Emma Slater have to be punished further by wearing those jazzercize monstrosities? Not even bedazzles could save that awful pastel and animal print outfits worn in their cha cha, set to LMFAO’s “Sexy and I Know It.” It didn't help that Bill thought his cha cha was no good. So the judges chose to focus on the positive instead. Maks said it best. “Personally, I don’t believe in talent. I believe in hard work. You showed that,” he said eloquently. “There were a lot of holes in this cha cha, but don’t worry about that. … You’re amazing. A lot of people are looking up to you for even attempting this.” “You’re not always the judges’ champion, but you’re the people’s champion,” said Len. “Obviously you’re not Baryshnikov but the pleasure you give us … is unmatchable,” Bruno said.


Bill may be down on himself, but his family and friends still support him. “I couldn’t be more proud of Bill right now,” Gail said. “I love that people love him.” And Bill really redeemed himself with his Argentine tango. Set to an acoustic “Sexy and I Know It” version sung live by Noah, the wannabe singer used all his performance skills to enact a sultry routine. “The musical interpretation was amazing,” Maks said. “But the dance interpretation was just as great.” Len said Bill was “full of heart” and gave credit to Emma: “The way you’ve nurtured Bill and brought him along is fantastic.” “You set the mood, you played it straight,” Bruno said. “I loved that for the first time you didn’t joke around,” Carrie Ann said. “You went straight to the game and went straight to the heart.” Bill and Emma received a 28 for their cha cha, and a 32 and a “most improved” stamp for their Argentine tango. Total: 60.

Lou S. Habash teaches variety of jazz steps to her students. Learn some techniques on how you can be a great dancer by visiting this Facebook page.

REPOST: Survive a Dance Audition Tips for Success at Your Next Dance Audition

Elevate your game at dance auditions by reading tips in this About.com article.

A dance audition can be intimidating. Whether you are auditioning for a dance company, a major performance, or placement within your dance school, auditions bring out the butterflies in everyone. Even professional dancers feel the pressure as they pin their audition numbers onto their leotards. However, being a little nervous can actually be beneficial, as nerves sometimes enable us to jump higher, or spin faster. The following 5 tips will help you dance through your next audition with flying colors.

1. Be Prepared

Make sure you have everything you will need for the audition. Check the application carefully, following every requirement. If the audition requires a fee, remember to take it. Some auditions have strict dress codes. If there is no dress code, keep it simple. Pick an outfit you feel good dancing in. (Don't be afraid to wear something that distinguishes you from the other dancers, such as a bright-colored leotard. It's okay to stand out!) Bring proper shoes, band-aids or moleskin, hair pins and water to drink. Having everything you need will help you feel confident when auditioning.

2. Arrive on Time

Plan to arrive at least 30 minutes before the audition begins, maybe even earlier. You will appreciate having the extra time to check out your surroundings if you are not familiar with the location. Use the time to warm up, stretch, and get focused. Try not to notice the other dancers as they arrive, as they may make you nervous. Concentrate on preparing yourself, both physically and mentally. You will have a better audition if you are relaxed and ready.

3. Stand in the Front

Try to grab a spot in the front of the room. Don't hide in the back while the instructor is teaching the choreography. Judges will be watching the room, seeing who learns the combinations the fastest. Show them that you can learn the routine quickly and independently. Sometimes judges will pick dancers who are the quickest learners, not necessarily the best dancers. Standing in the front of the room also shows confidence. Dancers who prefer to stand in the back are often followers, relying on the front row of dancers to guide them through combinations. Show the judges that you are a leader - stand in the front.

4. Ask Questions

If you are unsure about a combination or step, don't be afraid to ask questions. It will show the judges that you want to do your best. The judges will not frown upon dancers who ask for help. Asking for clarification is never considered a sign of weakness. Make sure and ask questions in a professional and serious manner. Pay attention, making sure that questions you do ask have not already been answered.

5. Stay Positive

Most dance auditions are extremely competitive. Remember that you won't be selected every time, and rejection doesn't mean that you are a bad dancer. Judges are often looking for specific qualities: a specific height, a certain hair color, etc. Never assume that you were rejected because of a lack of talent or technique.

Try your best to stay positive during the audition. Be yourself and dance your very best. Even if you are nervous, don't let the judges know it. Smile and show them how much you enjoy dancing. People enjoy watching dancers who love what they do. Relax, smile and believe in yourself, no matter how nervous you may be. And remember, auditions will get easier.


Dancing keeps Lou S. Habash going every day as she teaches kids and adults jazz dance in her very own studio, The Giddy Room. Visit this Facebook page for more updates.

REPOST: Movers and Shapers

Who are the dance industry movers and shakers in NYC? Get to know them by reading this New York Times article.


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The energy that characterizes New York City finds artistic release in dance. Other cities around the world have important dance scenes, but for diversity and vitality this one has no match. Here ballet and modern mingle with tap and jazz. Here ethnic and experimental mixed media works find devoted audiences. Here it’s natural to find the formal colliding with the forward-looking. And during the main season, from September to June, it’s not unusual to find a dozen dance productions opening in a week.

In that spirit, we present 10 professionals who, working offstage or on, embody this range — from tap to ballet, flamenco to postmodern. Each, in a different way, makes New York’s dance scene singular.

Sara Mearns, a stage animal of rare vibrancy, is changing our idea of how a ballerina looks and projects. Judy Hussie-Taylor, executive director at the Danspace Project at St. Mark’s, is reshaping the course of modern dance. Alexei Ratmansky, formerly artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, choreographs around the globe, but it’s here that his most adventurous pieces have had their premieres. An important part of New York culture is the way it keeps drawing — and inspiring — dance artists from abroad.

Everyone on this list has become integral to this city’s dance life — and between now and year’s end, the work of each one can be seen in New York. Perhaps only a few, like the Alvin Ailey dancer Matthew Rushing, have reached full maturity. The others — even Ms. Mearns and Mr. Ratmansky — are still evolving. It’s exciting to think that yet finer work lies ahead.

Alexei Ratmansky, 45
Choreographer

Alexei Ratmansky is a classical-ballet man, but seldom in the grandest manner. His dances occur on the cusp between pure dance and characterization; his stage worlds abound in intimate human incidents. Since this Russian moved to the West in 2008, his career has become the most prolific and rapidly globe-trotting in choreography today. Modest in manner, he’s a torrent of creative ideas.

In February, he had world premieres only a week apart — with the Royal Ballet at Covent Garden in London and San Francisco Ballet at its home theater. (The California company dances his “From Foreign Lands” here at the David H. Koch Theater on Oct. 17, 18 and 20.) In May, at the Metropolitan Opera House, he presented the two new parts of his “Shostakovich Trilogy”with American Ballet Theater (where he is artist in residence, and which revives one of these Shostakovich creations, “Piano Concerto No. 1,” at the Koch on Nov. 7 and 9).

Last week, the Australian Ballet presented in Melbourne his new version of Prokofiev’s three-act “Cinderella.” On Oct. 30, Ballet Theater dances his latest work, “The Tempest,” treating Shakespeare’s play in terms of Sibelius’s incidental music.

The prospect of any Ratmansky premiere tantalizes simply because nobody knows even what kind of piece it will be. Most of his creations have weak patches; you wish he’d stay still, just to rework them. Yet his dance sequences often contain the finest poetry in ballet today, while his storytelling can show the form’s finest imagination and most exuberant character acting. ALASTAIR MACAULAY

Sara Mearns, 27
Ballet dancer

In an era when the lurid melodrama of the film “Black Swan” has made “Swan Lake” more popular than ever, it’s heartening to see Sara Mearns give ardent new significance to the drama of its look-alike heroines, Odette and Odile. Born in Columbia, S.C., and a principal of New York City Ballet since 2008, she’s the world’s foremost interpreter of the double role this century. (She starred in “Swan Lake” twice last week at the David H. Koch Theater as part of City Ballet’s current season.) 

Yet that’s not her greatest vehicle. She’s at her finest in the ballets of George Balanchine, to which she brings the most powerfully Romantic classicism since his dancers Suzanne Farrell and Maria Calegari, neither of whom she resembles. (She hasn’t yet conquered all her roles, though. So far, the serene lunar grandeur of the extraordinary adagio second movement of Balanchine’s “Symphony in C” eludes her.)

The choreographers Alexei Ratmansky and Christopher Wheeldon are among those who have created leading roles for her. And this Wednesday and Thursday, in the opening Fall for Dance program at City Center, she performs the world premiere of a new pas de deux by Justin Peck.

A celebrity beyond her home company, she blogs for The Huffington Post; in June she starred with the New York Philharmonic in “A Dancer’s Dream.”

She’s compellingly made up of contradictions: child and woman, vulnerable and audacious, naïve and voluptuous. Her eyes are small, but their focus is rivetingly theatrical. Her shoulders are high, even tense, but her spine — one of the wonders of the dance world — is powerfully supple. Her figure is curvaceous, and there’s a thread of steel running through those legs.

Some ballerinas play with their music, but the expansive Ms. Mearns claims hers as if embodying it: it’s her domain. ALASTAIR MACAULAY

Maile Okamura, 39
Dancer and costume designer

When Mark Morris’s life-enhancing staging of the Handel-Milton oratorio “L’Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato” returns to the David H. Koch Theater from Nov. 21 to 23, the role of the Penseroso bird, the nightingale that is drawn to the wandering moon, will be danced by the quietly spontaneous Maile Okamura.

Born and raised in California to a Japanese family, she’s performed a number of solo parts for the Morris company; in Mr. Morris’s “Romeo and Juliet,” she was one of two Juliets. She has a second career designing costumes: witness John Heginbotham’s “Dark Theater” at the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Fishman Space from Oct. 29 to Nov. 2. ALASTAIR MACAULAY

Reggie Wilson, 45
Choreographer

As a contemporary choreographer who formed his Fist & Heel Performance Group in 1989, Reggie Wilson is something of a cultural anthropologist. His dances, which rely heavily on songs and rhythms — you often see Mr. Wilson singing and clapping on the sidelines — sprout from one concept, but by the time he’s finished, they are a garden of references, memories and ideas. When is he ever really finished?

Mr. Wilson, who was born in Milwaukee, is an artist compelled by the idea of looking back to move forward, and as such, his sprawling movement pieces fold history into the present, or show how what seems new never truly is.

This approach to his movement — firmly accented yet unforced — and to his work, which he often describes as “post-African/Neo-HooDoo Modern dances,” is tempered by a deep devotion to structure. It provides a frame for his fiendishly busy mind.

For “Moses(es),” Mr. Wilson’s latest work, performed by nine at the Brooklyn Academy of Music Harvey Theater Dec. 4 to 7, he takes inspiration from Zora Neale Hurston’s “Moses, Man of the Mountain,” as well as trips to Israel, Egypt and Turkey. In the book, Hurston explores the Moses story as an African-American folk tale. Mr. Wilson takes it further: How do ideas and customs migrate? Where do the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Harriet Tubman fit in? And, in keeping with Moses, what makes leaders and why do we follow them?

“Since this Moses thing cracked open for me,” Mr. Wilson said, “there seems to be something infinite but specific going on.”

It’s true that Mr. Wilson always takes a path of most resistance, but his multilayered productions are a pleasure of sensations, creating as much an aural landscape as a visual one in which dancers have the uncanny ability to slip in and out of traditions while maintaining their contemporary rigor. It’s a trip to see the world through Mr. Wilson’s eyes. For a night at least, Moses will be everywhere. GIA KOURLAS

Matthew Rushing, 38
Modern dancer

In 2010 Matthew Rushing, who began performing with the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater in 1992, became Ailey’s rehearsal director and considered retiring from the stage. Judith Jamison, then at the end of her long tenure as the company’s artistic director, told him not to. Thank goodness he listened.

Mr. Rushing, who was born in Los Angeles, is still the greatest male dancer in a troupe that suffers no lack of candidates. In strength and stretch, he has shown little diminishment, and the quality that most distinguished him early on has only deepened with age. Critics rightly call it “integrity,” a service to each work. It reads as humility, yet it’s an independent moral force that Ailey-style dances can’t do without.

Since his near retirement, Mr. Rushing has remained irreplaceable, not only in repertory works, where you might expect his experience to give him an edge, but also in new pieces. He was the pillar of Rennie Harris’s 2010 “Home,” a hip-hop sermon on survival, and this year his supple spiritualty set the tone for Ronald K. Brown’s “Four Corners.” During the company’s encampment at City Center this December, Mr. Rushing will be dancing those works and will also have a prominent role in Aszure Barton’s new “Lift.” On Dec. 17, a special performance will celebrate his time with the company, the longest of any current dancer. It’s a bit late for a 20th-anniversary party, but let’s hope that a 25th will be in the cards. BRIAN SEIBERT

Michelle Dorrance, 34
Tap dancer and choreographer

The field of tap dance has seldom wanted for astonishing soloists. It is tap choreographers worthy of the title who have been rare. This is why the recent emergence of Michelle Dorrance as a dancemaker is so important.

She is, to begin with, another astonishing soloist. The daughter of a ballet teacher and a soccer coach in Chapel Hill, N.C., she is ridiculously fleet of foot. From her loose ankles, she can throw down a profusion of taps like bagfuls of marbles, yet she does so with precision, in the service of a compelling musicality.

At the same time, she projects her personality, a direct, uningratiating blend of tomboy and girlish, hip and dorky. Her body, a gangling collection of limbs, is a site of potential awkwardness that she isn’t afraid to exploit in knock-kneed comedy or to convert into emotional openness.

Though justly celebrated as a happy dance, tap has always encompassed darker emotions. What Ms. Dorrance is discovering are ways to make those emotions visible to people who can’t necessarily hear them in rhythm and tone, expanding tap without distorting its essence. Like many beginning choreographers, she is still working out how to use bodies other than her own. Yet the debut of “SOUNDspace,” her first evening-length work, at Danspace Project in January, revealed a promising grasp of large-scale composition. An excerpt from that piece at Fall for Dance at City Center on Oct. 2 and 3 should help introduce her to the larger audience she deserves. BRIAN SEIBERT

Judy Hussie-Taylor, 50
Arts administrator

As a producer of dance, Judy Hussie-Taylor has a mantra in her dealings with artists: “I always say the answer is yes until it has to be no.”

It must be what she tells herself. As the Danspace Project’s executive director, she has turned a dance site with limited flexibility — St. Mark’s Church in the Bowery, which affords artists few options to manipulate the space — into a setting where the imagination can soar. In 2010, two years after taking over Danspace Project, Ms. Hussie-Taylor introducedPlatforms, in which performances and related events based on a single theme were organized into a series of programs, usually masterminded by a single choreographer. So far, there have been seven; the next, scheduled for May, will focus on the work of the choreographer DD Dorvillier.

This fall, Ms. Hussie-Taylor is intrigued by collisions of dance forms by artists like Katy Pyle (Oct. 24 through 26) and Cori Olinghouse (Dec. 12 through 14), who go deeply into a history and then disrupt it. But above all, Ms. Hussie-Taylor, who was born in Philadelphia and lives in Brooklyn, likes friction: as she put it in an interview, “I always like stepping into territory where I don’t belong.”

Under her calm watch, tension is not cause for alarm, but something that opens up the possibility for new ideas. She stands aside to let an artist breathe and then asks the big question: what makes an idea relevant today? It leads to more questions than answers, and in dance that’s just the way it should be. GIA KOURLAS

Soledad Barrio, 48
Flamenco dancer

The inestimable power of Soledad Barrio is rooted in contradictions. Onstage, she’s more animal than woman, but even so, her force-of-nature explosiveness neither unfurls in flashy bursts nor operates on the surface. In those moments when she twists her sinewy back and raises her arms high above her head to frame a face with veiled eyes — just before her heels pound the floor, seemingly in an effort to rip through to the earth below — Ms. Barrio lands in a place every dancer dreams of inhabiting. She lives in the moment.

Born in Madrid, where she started her dance training at the late age of 18, Ms. Barrio is a founding member of the troupe Noche Flamenca, which is directed by her husband, Martín Santangelo. (They have two daughters, Gabriela and Stella.) From Dec. 3 through 15, Ms. Barrio showcases her extraordinary abilities at the Joyce Theater in a program that merges music, song and dance. For it, she’ll dance a new alegríasduet, choreographed by Mr. Santangelo, opposite Juan Ogalla; her solo will be a siguiriya, one of flamenco’s oldest forms — a slow, desolate dance in which Ms. Barrio, enveloped by the music, becomes majestically ravaged. It’s like watching the ocean as one wave crashes into the next.

Yet alongside her profound athleticism, Ms. Barrio has an allure that is based in something eerily intangible. The word “soledad” translates to “loneliness,” and that heartache permeates all of her performances: what she seems to be saying, with both her feet and her eyes, is that you can’t escape your destiny. GIA KOURLAS

James Whiteside, 29
Ballet dancer

What newcomer to New York has ever invaded a repertory more surely than James Whiteside? Lean, energetic, tall and confident, he joined American Ballet Theater as a soloist in autumn 2012. A year later, at the Oct. 30 gala that opens the company’s two-week fall season at the David H. Koch Theater, he performs the male lead of George Balanchine’s “Theme and Variations,” one of the most taxing bravura roles in all of ballet. Mr. Whiteside, who was born and began his training in Fairfield, Conn., danced the role splendidly in 2010 with the Boston Ballet, where he was a principal.

It’s hard to imagine that he won’t be promoted to a principal here soon. In Ballet Theater’s 2013 season at the Metropolitan Opera House, he danced the heroes of four of its seven full-length ballets: Basilio in “Don Quixote,” Romeo in “Romeo and Juliet,” Prince Siegfried in “Swan Lake” and Prince Désiré in “The Sleeping Beauty.” Not only that, but as the troubled artist-hero of Alexei Ratmansky’s new “Chamber Symphony,” he was cast second to the celebrated David Hallberg but gave the more imposing performance.

While he’s been paired successfully with a number of Ballet Theater’s principal women, he’s forged a particularly impressive partnership with the redoubtable redhead Gillian Murphy. It looks like a meeting of minds, and it’s part of this ballerina’s awakening. They performed “Swan Lake” and “The Sleeping Beauty” together this spring; they’ll dance “Theme and Variations” together at the October gala. ALASTAIR MACAULAY

Reid Bartelme, 32
Costume designer

When fashion designers create costumes for dance, the results often aren’t pretty — haute couture tends to get in a body’s way. But while the Manhattan-born Reid Bartelmeholds a degree in design from the Fashion Institute of Technology, he was a dancer first. The stylistic range he covered during his initial career — from BalletMet Columbus to Shen Wei, Lar Lubovitch and performance art — is only expanding in his second.

Since 2009, his smart yet unobtrusive costume designs have popped up everywhere from downtown spaces to New York City Ballet. At Fall for Dance at City Center on Wednesday and Thursday, he and his frequent partner Harriet Jung will unveil their fourth collaboration with the similarly rocketing choreographer Justin Peck, a minimalist outfit for the maximalist ballerina Sara Mearns. BRIAN SEIBERT

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Lou S. Habash teaches kids and kids-at-heart on how to appreciate the art of dancing. More about her can be read in this blog site.