The bi-weekly blog, ARTS POLITICIAN
By DANIELLE KLINE
Published online: August 8, 2009

I tuned in recently to watch the 100^th anniversary episode of So You Think You Can Dance, which featured a reprise of the program’s memorable dance numbers and the usual buzz about the next elimination round. Surrounded by a few die-hard fans in a living room, anticipation for the Judy Garland song-and-dance number to be performed by actress Katie Holmes later in the hour was palpable from my vantage point. As the first dancer took the stage, the program’s strengths became evident: the quality of dance performance was extremely high, a testament to the agile women and men who have been trained well and who take pride in raising the skill level of their artistic discipline. There is little doubt that talent search shows, like this one, offer the public a window into the work of individuals who have chosen to make the arts a daily part of their lives. And yet, amidst the awesome axel turns and layouts, what I found most captivating were the underlying references about dance patronage, education, and advocacy.

I enjoy watching emerging dancers enter American households with reality television shows like So You Think You Can Dance. Many Americans do not have the opportunity to pay the steep ticket prices that often accompany live dance performance, a financial challenge that I, too, have experienced at moments in my life. So You Think You Can Dance raises the profile of dance in America, but I have yet to see signs suggesting that its fans are becoming more active dance patrons. This program pales in comparison to the joys and connections that I believe can only come from experiencing dance live. Furthermore, I worry that this program (and others like it) instill the art form with too much fame and celebrity at the expense of a deeper conversation about arts engagement.

On this particular night, an example of the lack of deep conversation was manifested by Katie Homes. Prior to dancing, Katie Holmes discussed her support for the Dizzy Feet Foundation, which “was started in 2009 by Nigel Lythgoe, director Adam Shankman, Dancing With the Stars judge Carrie Ann Inaba and actress Katie Holmes to support, improve, and increase access to dance education in the United States.” Holmes said, “I think it’s important to, to let kids, you know, experience music and dancing and singing and you know, this is the next generation and I think it’s very important to give them every opportunity to grow and discover what it is that they like and, and to have access to the best.” All of those goals are admirable, but to arts advocates who have worked in public and private circles, Holmes’s language is not as detailed, complex, and thorough as it could have been. Neither was Nigel Lythgoe’s comment describing dance as “one of the greatest gifts God ever gave us and we should never lose it.” Perhaps God is an important part of Lythgoe’s personal belief in the power of dance, but his argument, like Holmes’s, also rests on shaky ground. A more solid argument might have involved citizen engagement and the values that dance can convey: like the opportunity to make meaning out of life experiences and the opportunity to learn tolerance for other races, cultures, and forms of diversity that comprise our global society. 

For this foundation to accomplish its goals, it will be important for those involved with the Dizzy Feet Foundation to advocate more effectively. So how can they improve? First, it is paramount for the foundation to recognize that some members of their audience will know dance education statistics intimately. Consider the inaccurate statement made by Carrie Ann Inaba: “If we’re not going to have [dance] in our schools, we need to find other avenues to provide that for our youth and I think the Dizzy Feet Foundation will be doing exactly that.” In fact, the United States of America does have dance education, it just is not nearly as complete as it could be. Secondly, I am heartened to hear that respected leaders like Judith Jamison (Artistic Director of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater) and Debbie Allen (a Culture Connect Ambassador who has represented the U.S. in visits around the world in support of arts education) have demonstrated their support for Dizzy Feet. With a strong team on its side, the Dizzy Feet Foundation can administer grants, offer community outreach, and become a worthwhile piece of the dance education puzzle; however, the very operational and financial structure of a foundation will prevent it from filling dance education’s gaping hole. The types of partnerships that will be most exciting are those that will offer a complex arrangement of private partners, public agencies, government leaders, advocacy organizations, and broad citizen engagement. 

I want the Dizzy Feet Foundation to succeed spectacularly and I am hoping that in the months and years ahead it will perfect its routine. Here are two suggestions of mine to help bring its platform forward: 

1)      Contact the National Dance Education Organization to see how the Dizzy Feet Foundation can align its language and dialogue with that of a respected advocacy organization.

2)      Contact local, state, and federal policymakers to see how the Dizzy Feet Foundation might be able to partner and/or plan a community outreach dance event in conjunction with like-minded policy leaders concerned, for example, with access to high-quality education for low-income communities. 

Ultimately, I hope that as the Dizzy Feet Foundation provides access to high-quality dance education for youth that it will also find ways to educate those rising stars about the often dizzying steps of dance education, patronage, and advocacy so that generations to come (as well as future reality shows) are more informed  than we are today. TAP