ANNA DJANBAZIAN Keeping the Torch Alight
By Karen Apostolina
At first glance, the busy Djanbazian Dance Academy
in Glendale looks like any other ballet studio. The white walls and floor
complement the soft swirl of girls in pink and white leotards spinning by. Young
dancers stand in precise rows executing graceful exercises while their teacher,
Anna Djanbazian, swans through the room gently calling out instruction and
snapping her fingers to emphasize the meter of the music.
Hanging on ballet-barres behind them are garment bags stuffed with colorful,
gauzy costumes for a rehearsal later that evening. The ethnic tunics and
headscarves spilling out on to the floor hint at greater depth beyond this
sugary tableau.
The Djanbazian Dance Academy has a rich history that began in Russia with its
founder, Sarkis Djanbazian, one of Leningrad 's principal dancers and Anna's
father. In the 1940's he emigrated and eventually became the successful and
respected ballet master of a studio in Tehran . But sadly, in 1963, while still
in his prime, Sarkis died suddenly of a heart attack. Though she was only 11 at
the time, Anna understood she would dedicate her life to dance to continue his
legacy. At age 16 she went to the Soviet Union on her own to continue her
training.
After graduating with a Bachelor of Arts degree in ballet and
traditional dances from the Yerevan Choreographic Pedagogical Dance Institute,
Djanbazian returned to Iran in 1972, intent on returning her father's school to
its former glory.
However, after her five-year absence, the business was floundering, despite her
mother's best efforts to keep it afloat.
“I promised myself that after five years I would bring the studio back to the
level my father had it at and continue going further than before,” says
Djanbazian, “ but unfortunately—the revolution happened.”
The Islamic revolution became a catalyst for the next phase of Djanbazian's
career. Being Armenian put her in the minority, and under the new regime dance
was forbidden. New rules condemned the mixing of Muslim and Armenian or male and
female students in the school. This was a big change from the way things had
been in her father's day.
“When the revolution came, we couldn't have music, dancing was forbidden. So in
the studio, I was covering all the windows with paper so nobody could see what
we were doing.”
At one point Djanbazian says “Islamic soldiers” came to the studio and demanded
to know what they were doing. They spent eight hours investigating the premises.
“We were in a class with dance clothes on—a pas de deux class—which is the
lifting of the female dancers by the male,” says Djanbazian. “It was very, very
terrifying.”
Although she continued working and choreographing surreptitiously until the 40th
anniversary of the academy, Djanbazian grew tired of dancing “underground” and
decided to leave. Her whole family came to Los Angeles and she attended UCLA,
receiving her Masters degree in education and modern dance choreography.
“I really needed to get out. I wanted to continue my education and reach more
information, which was very hard to do there.” In 1988, she opened her studio in
Glendale .
On this evening, company members are hard at work rehearsing Asemoun-Beh-In-Gapi
(Joy Lifted to the Heavens) for Welcome to Persia , a collection of Djanbazian's
choreography to be performed at California State University Northridge. The
piece is reminiscent of the traditional folk dances of Iran and portrays a
pre-marriage celebration. The dancers twirl and fling their full, white skirts;
their moves are saucy and flirtatious. The music of a Tar, a middle-eastern
long-necked lute, accompanies their joyful movement.
Djanbazian plucked the best dancers from her academy to form the nucleus of her
company in 1992. With a knowing smile on her face, she watches as they bend and
sway, performing the intricate choreography of these traditional Persian dances
with ease. She understands that she is preserving tradition while deconstructing
stereotypes here in the West.
“Right now, in this situation in the world, we all have information—but not the
full information. Nobody can imagine that Persian, Iranian people can have happy
dances, colorful dances. They're very, very hospitable, easy, good and friendly
people, and it shows here in their own dances.”
One example of this is Girl Talk, with music by Hosseyn Vaseghi. This dance from
Tehran depicts playful girls gossiping in the Syrian court of Ghajar. Another is
Zang, a sensuous dance with finger cymbals. In both pieces, the women wear
sparkly shoes and radiant smiles. This is not the stereotype of Iranian culture
Americans are typically fed. But Djanbazian says the time is ripe for people to
get acquainted with her culture.
“We don't anymore think, oh, Iran is too far. We know for instance about Zankou
chicken and so we think, I know the food—so I know the people. This is true,
when you begin to know more about the culture, you begin to know the people. It
is difficult, but not impossible. I really want to invite people to open their
hearts and come and take a chance…Persian dance is pretty.”
Djanbazian also choreographs in other genres—ballet and modern. She says she
prefers dance over words to tell her stories or channel her emotions, and she
considers the audience an integral part of the process, always hoping to touch
them in their hearts, because “…with their energy and my energy, we can dance
around each other.”
This symbiosis extends to her dancers as well. Twenty-one-year-old Araz Ranjbar
of Glendale says dance is her passion and that Djanbazian's choreography brings
out a different side of her.
“I feel free. I just do what I want to do and her choreography… it takes me to a
different place, I could never imagine myself dancing with somebody else.”
But choreography is only as good as the dancers performing it; Djanbazian's have
clean technique and an emotional commitment to the material. As they rehearse
Friends, an ethnic dance from Tehran , they manage to radiate cheerfulness
without artifice. Perhaps these native dances allow a freedom that the “too cool
for school” strictures of contemporary California culture forbid. Djanbazian's
choreography incorporates over 60 years of tradition from Iran ; This is what
sets her company apart.
“I think history is keeping this foundation very strong. I didn't just get
here—my father had this school and many people knew him and respected him.”
And so she works—and works! “Can you believe since 1972, I've never had any
vacation?” She hopes that someday one of her students will take over and keep
the legacy going. But right now, she is focused on expanding her audience.
The strains of piano music by Shardad Rohani fill the air as the dancers
rehearse Love Dance. Last year, PBS chose this piece, choreographed in 2003, for
national broadcast from the Music Center in downtown Los Angeles . It's based on
an old Persian fable that says you can turn any evil to good if you repeat the
word love three times. Djanbazian put this idea to good use by turning the loss
of her beloved father into a declaration of her love of dance, and her early
artistic suppression into a mission to find greater creative freedom.
Welcome To Persia
 Beautiful costumes, sweet chimes, percussions of
Persian music, and graceful dancing is what I experienced this
past Saturday evening. And how lovely it was! I took along a little
guest, my two-year-old son, Felix, who was mesmerized by all the
vibrant colors and exotic music. Toddlers are notorious for short
attention spans, but apparently this production captured his
attention…for two hours!
With quick costume changes (14 in all), every piece tells a story
from each province in Iran, or a special dance for an occasion. With
doll–like presence, the dancers gave life to old folklore dances and
stories. All of the dances flowed evenly together, with a 15-minute
intermission in between two acts.
Superbly choreographed by multiple Lester Horton Dance Awards winner
Anna Djanbazian, each piece is surely memorable, especially with the
gorgeous costumes. The luxurious fabrics and ornate embellishments
easily put the costumes into the Vogue magazine stratosphere.
We have finally found where Muccia Prada and Jean-Paul Gaultier draw
their inspiration every season! My personal favorites were
“Friends”, a joyful, tease dance from Tehran, and “Sarveh-Kashmir”,
a traditional dance from a southeast province of Iran, called
Baluchestan, where they are dancing the rites of passage for
a wedding celebration.
As if the feast for the eyes were not enough, the ears also had
theirs. The upbeat thumps of the drums coupled with the ancient
string instrument, the santoor, and high-pitched violins were
recognizable to me growing up in a Persian household. That distinct
sound brought back many fond memories. Along the way, there are some
brilliant words of wisdom in the form of poetry, called “ Rumi: The
Path to Enlightenment”--excellent mediation material.
If you enjoy and appreciate the arts, this performance is not to
missed. Not only is this art and divine entertainment, but it also
is a wonderful look back at the history of one of the world’s
greatest civilizations, rich with culture and originality.
"Welcome To Persia"
Author: Roxanna Bina
Originally published: Sun, 22 Apr 2007
Rumi's passion in half steps
The ancient poet's words are given some ingenious expression at
the Freud — not so his homosexual romance
By Lewis Segal, Times Staff Writer
In our secular society, it's hard to imagine the enduring
controversy over the relationship between 13th century Islamic poet
and mystic Molana (or Mevlana) Jalaleddin Rumi and the much younger
holy man and dervish Shams of Tabrizi.
Some sources say these men were lovers and that Shams was murdered
by Rumi's jealous followers; others insist that their relationship
was purely spiritual and Shams disappeared on his quest to become
what he called "God-intoxicated."
At its premiere Saturday in UCLA's Freud Playhouse, the
full-evening dance drama "Rumi: Path to Enlightenment" found
choreographer Anna Djanbazian and her locally based company
mediating between the historical facts and the rich philosophical
lore of Rumi's writings.
Richly costumed and performed with devotion, the result often
boasted great ingenuity in making Rumi's words inspire contemporary
dancing — but just as frequently fell prey to creative confusion and
timidity.
In Act 1, the phenomenal Arsen Serobian as Rumi and
the intense Ronaldo W. Bowins as Shams hotly eyed each
other. But when it came time to dance their passion, they partnered
Kristin D'Andrea, a ballerina cast as a symbolic character
named Experience.
This same strategy or subterfuge served Frederick Ashton in
"Illuminations," his one-act ballet about the homosexual poet Arthur
Rimbaud — but that was in 1950.
In Act 2, Narineh Ghazarians skillfully danced a character
identified as "the Soul of Rumi," one of several female surrogates
presiding over a plotless suite, based on the man's teachings. Set
in motion by sound bites, the divertissement culminated in Aziz
Abbatiello's powerful solo depicting the so-called whirling
dervish ceremony, a practice that the grief-stricken Rumi
inaugurated after Shams' death.
Distinguished musicians added their artistry to the "Meditative
Prayer" sequence while Edik Balaian's misty video
abstractions periodically established a context for Djanbazian's
choreography.
But by refusing to let Rumi and Shams dance together and banishing
them from her final ritual of celebration, Djanbazian allied herself
with the followers who tried to drive them apart eight centuries
ago. Didn't she understand that the quote "Bring the secrets in the
midst" (used in Act 2) was a demand for absolute openness? As such,
it represents a repudiation of all the evasions that left her glossy
dance-spectacle safely PG in content but with no real room for Rumi.
e for all ages
Following are links to some recently published articles and
performance reviews
"Los Angeles honors its own"
Victoria Looseleaf
, Dance Magazine, September 2005
Befitting the
melting pot that is Los Angeles, the city celebrated an array of
multicultural talent at the 14th annual Lester Horton
Dance Awards. Leading the pack was choreographer Anna Djanbazian,
whose revival of her 1982 contemporary ballet,
Komitas,
Kroong Bnaver (Komitas, Banished but not forgotten),
premiered by Djanbazian Dance Company last fall, received honors in
four categories.
Named after the
West Coast modern dance pioneer, the Horton Awards, which are voted
on by the membership of the Dance Resource Center of Los Angeles,
were presented in April at North Hollywood’s El Portal Theatre. The
three-hour ceremony featured touching speeches, archival film clips,
and live performances, including tribute to the late modern dance
icon Bella Lewitzky and departed tapper Leonard Reed.
Djanbazian’s
evening-length opus about Armenian composer Komitas, who went mad
after witnessing the 1915 Armenian genocide, garnered awards for
revival, reconstruction, and staging, as well as for long form
choreography. Arsen Serobian and Narineh Gazarians snagged prizes
for their performance in
Komitas.
Sitting
on January, performed at last year’s Celebration of Dance
Festival, also netted multiple awards. Jennifer Backhaus Mclvor
took home the short form choreography prize, with Rhonda Earick
copping a costume design award Monique L’Heureux taking it for
lighting design. Jill Sanzo/Ballet of the Foothills won Horton for
producing the festival.
Other awards went
to Rei Aoo, Erin Dwyer, Carrie Green, and Carin Noland for small
ensemble choreography, and Rev. Tom Kurai and Satori Daiko for
music. Nina Kaufman and Bradley Shimada scored for set design.
Stephanie Gilliland’s “hyperdance” troupe, Tongue, captures
outstanding performance by a company.
Special category
Hortons went to ballet master Stefan Wenta, composer-pianist Michael
Roberts, and Los Angeles Times dance critic Lewis Segal, who spoke
of the bleak fiscal times faced by both critic and artist.
Postmodern guru Rudy Perez, still active at 75 and over the moon
with his lifetime achievement award, credited dance as “the thing
that keeps me going,” echoing the mood of the ebullient, sold out
audience. |
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