Aswe start to talk – Fernando Narduchi on a distant balcony in Brazil with traffic sputtering in the background, me at a coffee-stained desk halfway across the globe – he warns me that his English is not so strong, and he hopes very much he doesn’t embarrass himself through his answers. It is a groundless fear, since Narduchi’s replies are vivid and his voice is full of character.
It is difficult, of course, to distinguish the pauses in his thoughts as either language divide or emotion, since much of his creativity stems from the triumphs and calamities of Brazilian-African history. But as artistic director of Balé de Rua, he is a man fuelled by discovery and the storytelling of dance, and with Baila Brazil he has no doubt that the spirit of his culture will resonate on the Australian stage.
“Each show has a different story,” Narduchi says. His words are at first hesitant, but soon begin speeding. “For example, we did a show called The Black Body In Dance. We wanted to talk about the black people, the heritage of the black people, and so [choreographer] Marco Antônioand I decided to show not the suffering of the slavery, but to show the strength of the people, and how smart, how strong they were to survive. In the end, we decided we didn’t want to talk about this as a sad, ‘Oh, these poor people, they suffered so much’ story, but show it all. Show that these people were strong, and how amazing [it was] that they survived all of this. And so we learned a lot about the history of the black ships from Mother Africa, the trips to Brazil, and then the fight for freedom. And in Brazil it was different, because here, the black people not only survived, but they really gave a huge contribution for the Brazilian identity, in everything: in music, in religion, in the food, the spirit of the people. In everything. So they not only survived, but they defined what Brazil would become.”
Now, for the record, I can’t dance. And I mean, at all. Every time I try, I’m surprised I don’t leave behind a dancefloor full of crippled limbs and the terrified screams of children. Confessing this to Narduchi, though, doesn’t perturb him in the slightest. In fact, teaching the uncoordinated and graceless how to dance sits at the core of the company’s aims.
“We have [run] a dance school since 2000, where we give classes for free. And we find people there, new generations of dancers who become part of the company. And so, every dancer we have in the company now came from this school, had this preparation. You see,” he laughs, “in the first eight years, we were trying very hard to make the company [sustainable]. Our first real show was in a little breakdancing festival in the village, only with other groups from Uberlândia. We started with ten dancers onstage then, and it was very good, very new to people. Then in the next few weeks a lot of people came along hoping to be part of the company, and within one month we had 35 dancers! So it was a lot of change quickly. In those times it was common to have groups with many dancers – 25, 35, that was normal in dance companies. But then, when we started to become professionals we became 15 dancers, and it was a number that we encourage, that still works for us today.”
For those who have seen footage of the company or were fortunate enough to catch Balé de Rua’s last Australian performance in 2010, the prospect of dancing even half as well as these frantic performers seems impossible. Their style is hard to pinpoint; a kind of samba, hip hop, traditional dance fusion. However you choose to describe it, it is undeniably arresting, and it is exactly this unexpected, entrancing quality that first caught Narduchi’s eye.
“I always loved to dance, and one night I was walking my bike down the street and saw a group of dancers in a square. I stopped, because until then I’d never seen that kind of dancing. It was a surprise for me, firstly because it was only guys dancing. I started coming back again and again until we became friends, and I started to learn the first steps of funk, of break and hip hop. In the beginning, I was the one who needed to learn. And I tell you, they changed my life.”
Narduchi laughs as he recalls his introduction to this new world of dance. “I started dance before, classical dance, modern dance, but I never belonged to a group or company, and I never went onstage until I met these people. I was always a dance lover and still am today, but the dance really became part of my life after I met those guys. After some years, I invited Marco Antônio– he is the real hero of this history, because he’s a choreographer of the show and the costume designer, the set designer, many things – I invited him and some other friends to create a company, and since that first moment what we wanted was to create a new kind of dance, because in those years it was really American, of course. Our heroes were Michael Jackson, James Brown, MC Hammer, and so then we tried to make it in the Brazilian way. We tried to mix this kind of dance with Brazilian music, Brazilian rhythms. And to take risks. And it worked!
“We started to be invited to many festivals, but what we really wanted was to create an identity that when you see the company, you wouldn’t have any doubt, you would see Brazil. And that’s what we tried to do up to today, to find our own way, to make new dancing and create this identity. After all of these years I guess we got it, but of course it never ends. Every new creation brings new – how can I say – oh my God!” He trails off, laughing hard. “My English is not so good, especially in this moment. Challenges! New creations bring new challenges!”
It is clear that dance means more to Narduchi than mere entertainment. There is such passion in his voice, such enthusiasm to share not only the energy and culture of Brazil, but its essence; the shapes and sounds that stitch together its history.
“In the end, after all of this, the Brazilian people know joy. We don’t dance just for entertainment, though of course the show is for huge audiences in big theatres. When you see us onstage, we want you to have a feeling that it’s true, it’s not fake, it comes from the soul, from the heart. We work very hard to achieve this. It’s not just entertainment. I want you to be happy when you see the show, but I want you to be happy from your heart, because it is so urgent. We try to show a little bit of Brazil’s spirit.”
Baila Brazil is playing atConcert Hall, Sydney Opera House fromFriday January 9 until Sunday January 18, tickets online.
