Celebrity Series: Masters Of Dance

Master teachers on their roots, influences, methods, and rewards.

Master teachers are revered in the dance community. We flock to these superb dancers’ classes, eager to absorb their secrets and hopeful that some of their magic will rub off on us in the hour and a half we spend in their presence. Lessons learned from them stay with us for years, and we pass them down to our students along with fondly remembered stories of our brief encounters with greatness. But the group setting of master classes gives us only an inkling of who these teachers are. Here Goldrush pulls back the curtain, as Toto inadvertently did to the Wizard of Oz, to reveal the people behind the title and what makes them standouts in their field. Read on for a peek inside the minds of six masters of dance.

Joseph Giacobbe

What motivated me to dance wasn’t anything in particular, like seeing a performance or having a friend studying dance. I had two older sisters, and my parents opened a school for them in 1943. Guess who their first student was! At 6 I started studying ballet, tap, and acrobatics. I loved the big Hollywood musicals and dreamed that I could be the next Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly.

For three summers during high school I studied ballet in Chicago at the Gladys Hight School with Phyllis Wills and Violet Strandz. They were wonderful inspirations for me and helped me to realize I could have a dance career. The training was grounded in classical ballet, but with Violet I learned Spanish and [Indian] dance. That started me on my continuing interest in ethnic forms.

Another influential person was Michael Panieff, a former Ballets Russes dancer who lived in Hollywood and did choreography for the movies. At the first DMA convention I attended he awarded me a scholarship to his studio. It was very encouraging to get this recognition from an internationally known dancer and teacher.

Because my family had a dance studio, it wasn’t too much of a stretch that I would become involved in teaching. When I graduated from high school I had already assisted for a couple of years. In fact, in my junior year I, with a girl named Louise, had to run the school and produce the annual recital because my father was sick and not expected to live and my sisters did not leave the hospital. It was a learning experience involving trial by fire. But we did it. Fortunately my father survived and my sisters returned to the school for the final days and the performance.

I taught my first master class in 1958 or 1959 for a local meeting of the Louisiana Association of Dance Masters. I had joined DMA in 1956; at that time they had a policy of using members as faculty at certain sessions. As one of the few males, not only in dance but in dance organizations, I attracted attention. I taught what was referred to at the time as an “Oriental” dance—a Cambodian temple dance, in the style of Denishawn.

As a master teacher the most important thing is to have a thorough knowledge of the subject matter in whatever dance style it is. Then you must understand that the class is about the students and not about you. You should be motivated to share the knowledge and expertise you have acquired, so that it will not only be passed on but will affect the students in a positive way. Master teachers need to be role models, to conduct themselves professionally. Each class is a different mix of students and abilities, so it is a challenge to find the right way to reach different situations. A sense of humor can often save the day.

I always try to remember to take the work, but not myself, seriously. My teaching style is straightforward — present the material in a clear way, assuming the students can do it or can learn to do it. Some may not be capable, but it says something that they are in the class. Perhaps they will be challenged and motivated to do better. I try to establish mutual respect from the beginning. I do like discipline in the class; nothing can be achieved without it. The challenge is to motivate the students to want to learn the class material. Sometimes you may reach only one student, but for that one you have made a difference. I hope to get the students to love dance as much as I do and to know how much fulfillment and happiness it can bring to their lives.

The hardest part of being a master teacher is the responsibility, knowing that you have a limited time to make an impact on the students. When you teach consistently you have more time to develop the understanding that must exist between teacher and student. I once said, “If you don’t reach, you can’t teach,” and that’s still true.

I consider a class successful if the students enjoyed the experience and learned something from it. Perhaps it reinforced something they had already learned. Sometimes a master teacher will present something familiar in a different way that makes it clearer. In that case you have provided a breakthrough.

To enter the professional world you have to train, train, train, study, study, study. Students must be devoted, disciplined, dedicated, and determined. They have to have passion, which will help them on the road to a career and show in their work. It brings sincerity to performances and is often the driving force to success. Professional dancing isn’t an easy career to break into. The love and passion will help aspiring dancers stay the course and enjoy their work.

Students must also learn to be realistic about their goals. You can’t be an opera singer if you don’t have a voice. They must learn to assess their abilities in a realistic way; then they can pursue a career to which their strengths are suited. And they should seek the advice of their teachers and, if possible, discuss opportunities, expectations, and chances of success with professionals.

This career in teaching has brought me a rich, fulfilling life. I won’t say it has been easy. It can consume your life. But the rewards have been awesome. To work every day with young, beautiful people, in an atmosphere filled with music and energy, helping to influence and shape the lives of developing artists is to be envied. It doesn’t get any better than this.

Gregg Russell

My mom taught at a dance studio and I was a “studio brat,” running around and getting into trouble, so my mom put me into tap to keep me busy. I loved it from the first class. Throughout my training, influential people included Henry Le Tang, Debbie Dee, Trudi Gasperinetti, Frank Hatchett, Ginny East, and my older brother, who also dances.

One of my favorite experiences was taking ballet from Trudi Gasperinetti at Broadway Dance Center in 1988. She had such an unconventional way of teaching and made ballet fun and challenging. She was tough, but you always had a sense that she cared for your well-being. I was a scrawny tap dancer, and she would give me exercises, like holding a relevé for 15 minutes, to make me better. She also had a dry sense of humor, and I appreciated the candor and effort she put into her classes.

When I was 13 I assisted my mom in a preschool tap class. After I taught it for a week when she was sick, she said, “This is your class now. These kids don’t want me here; they want you. You are great with them and can relate to them in a way I never can.” At that moment I took pride in teaching and have loved it since.

I grew up in Ohio and visited many studios [as a master teacher]. My first out-of-state workshop was at Terri Newman’s studio in Michigan, where I taught tap. The jazz teacher for the workshop was Bill Prudich, and he talked me into moving to L.A.

I love being able to inspire a group of dancers that I have never seen before. It’s such a great experience to see them being challenged and then accomplishing what they want. Good teachers teach their “thing,” but a great teacher teaches what is necessary during the class. You have to know what you want to accomplish but be in tune with your class and never make them wrong for their opinions and mistakes.

I try to bring humor and fun into dancing. I think we all start dancing because we love it. As we get older we seem to forget this. I like to create an atmosphere in which we learn something but enjoy the experience. I feel that a lot of people want this and are grateful for it. The hardest part of being a master teacher is being adaptable. You never know what you are going to get. Also, it’s important not to let the class take over what you want to accomplish. If they don’t like what I’m doing, it is my job to inspire them.

Once I flew in late to a workshop in Michigan, only 20 minutes before the first class. The venue was a church and when we got to the room it was full of music stands, pews, and statues. The studio owner’s husband and I looked at each other and said, “Well, let’s start moving stuff or it will never get done.” I remember carrying a five-foot-tall statue of Jesus and asking it, “Is this gonna work?” The  kids showed up and saw us carrying stuff, so they all started helping out. It was very inspirational to see the teamwork. We had no sound because the room had no outlets and no one could find an extension cord, so I taught an a cappella hip-hop class and the kids loved it. Out of nothing came an experience I’m sure none of us will forget.

Brian Foley

When my aunt decided to send her two boys to tap dancing class, she felt that they needed some family support and they dragged me along. After a few months my cousins quit, but I loved it. At age 5 I thought my dance teacher looked beautiful and I loved the smell of her perfume. And I really liked making noise with my feet!

When I was 13 I started training with a wonderful choreographer/ teacher, Gladys Forrester. She was a Canadian icon in the dance world, who introduced American jazz to Canada and revolutionized dance in our country. She encouraged me to fuel my passion to be a dance educator and instilled in me the importance of technique, style, and performance. I taught in her studio for six years under her guidance and compassion. I am the dance educator I am today because of what she gave me.

As a dance teacher my greatest reward is to see the children improve and grow, to train, mold, develop, and motivate a young student’s body into a finely tuned performance tool. My style of teaching is energized, dynamic, and positive. It’s effective because it’s motivating. However, I now teach only technique classes at master workshops because teachers and students must better understand the science of technique and the need to finely tune the dancer’s instrument. Dance is a universal language. Without technique, you cannot speak the language.

My first master class was for Dance Masters of America in 1966. I taught a one-hour ballet class—an exhilarating experience! To become a master teacher you must have the energy, dynamics, and ability to motivate a large number of students at the same time on a professional basis. What I want to accomplish in each class is that students learn, apply what they learn, and work hard. But most important is that every student leaves class wanting to come back!

Any convention or workshop that enhances training is important. Teachers must continue to motivate themselves and students must continue to experience the learning process in a bigger world than the private dance studio. Teachers have to be willing to say good-bye to elite students who strive to enter the professional world. It is their responsibility not only to mentor their students but to direct them into the right avenues of opportunity at the right time in their training and for the right purposes.

John Corella

What motivated me to dance were movies and dance competitions— television competitions such as Star Search and dance competitions such as Dance Masters of America. I became a teacher to build and train the younger generation and to work on my choreography.

To become a master teacher you have to stick to what you believe. I believe in pushing the students. Kids want to be challenged and are very results-oriented. My goal in each class is to motivate and inspire them. The best thing about being a master teacher is meeting so many different teachers and students.

Conventions and workshops are important for students and teachers because they get them out of their bubble. Teachers who have students who want to dance professionally need to let them take from other teachers in the professional world as well as the dance studio world. They need to know their strengths and weaknesses as a teacher and think of the best interests of the students without letting ego or insecurity get in the way.

Mark Santoro

I started dancing when I was 3, and my mother was my first dance teacher. I haven’t a clue who or what motivated me to dance. I must have enjoyed it because it came easily to me. Growing up in a dance studio made me want to teach. I watched a lot of classes and became an assistant teacher when I was around 14. Eventually I taught my own classes.

The biggest influence on my dance career was my mentor, Charles Kelley. I would not be the dancer and teacher I am today without Chuck. He’s a living, breathing encyclopedia on dance. I studied tap, jazz, and acrobatics with Chuck at Farnworth and Hauer Studio on West 54th Street in New York City and worked privately with him as well. Chuck was a very demanding teacher. You were either going to make it or not. That’s what I love about him. He made you a better dancer and human being.

I believe DMA of Connecticut gave me my first workshop class to teach. I found it fascinating that after taking so many workshop classes myself I was in front telling everyone what to do. That was nice. What I like best is passing on my knowledge to the next generation. What’s hardest is teaching six tap classes one right after the other. Also teaching tap on carpet. I hate that! What’s important is to be yourself—keep it simple and teach what you know.

I teach classical tap, or theater tap, as some call it. I make sure the students understand the counts and the names of the movements, and I speak with stage directions and make sure they dance with their whole body and that their feet are making music. It’s effective because I treat them as professionals. My goal is for the students to feel a sense of accomplishment— that they know something they didn’t know before, can execute a new step with ease, or were able to pick up someone else’s style.

[Students who want to dance professionally need to] follow their dreams. They need to study hard and take all kinds of lessons—acting, singing, etc. I was never the ultimate chorus boy nor did I have that look. But I had talent and I could sing. I got cast in shows that needed something different—nine Broadway shows to be exact. I got to see the world and if I had not followed that dream I would still be stuck in Hamden, CT.

Jason Kalish

When I was 5 years old I discovered a pair of tap shoes in a Goodwill store. I knocked them off a shelf, and to my delight, when they fell on the floor they made an interesting sound. Something was special about these shoes! When I asked my mother what the metal plates on the bottom were for she told me, “Those are tap shoes. You put them on your feet and dance and make music.” And I thought, “Wow! Noise-making musical shoes! What an incredible concept!” A week later I was taking tap class. My mother showed me old movies with Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, Fred Astaire, James Cagney, the Nicholas Brothers, and Gene Kelly, and I have never been more fascinated with anything else since. I didn’t choose tap—tap chose me!

I had three mentors, the first being my mother, Donna Kalish. She taught me what to value in good dancing and how to teach and reach other people effectively. The second, Marcus Alford, taught me how the dance industry works and the importance of lasting relationships and reputation. He showed me the value of being a man in this industry and how it was up to people like us to give male dancers a good name. My third (and current) mentor is my good friend Jeremy Kiesman. I met Jeremy doing Tap Dogs. When I first saw him dance, I couldn’t believe my senses. I didn’t know hoofers or hoofing like that still existed. Jeremy is a protégé of the late Buster Brown as well as Henry LeTang. I learn something about tap dancing every time we are together and through his emotional and musical approach to jazz hoofing when we jam.

My mother owned a dance studio and I used to assist her in tap classes. When I was 12 she felt I was ready to teach my own class, a group of 6- year-old boys. After the first full year of teaching, I found great reward in empowering people to do the things I could do. I would describe my style as sincere: I mean what I say and do what I mean. I try to create a purposeful dancing experience in every strike of the floor, if not every musical movement. I try to teach dancers to value everything that they are doing from the most mundane, like just standing there, to sophisticated and rhythmically complex steps. I agree with Buster Brown that nothing should be thrown away or wasted.

I taught my first master class at Dallas School of Dance in Dallas, GA. I was only 14 or 15 years old, and it was the first time in my life that I was truly authoritative. It was a bit strange since most of the students were as old or older than me. I think it might have been troubling for them to lend me their respect because of my age.

If there is one thing I hope to invoke during a class, it is passion. Without that, tap dance or music cannot reach its intended potential, which is to satiate the senses of sight and sound, with the musician and the dancer fused into one thereby creating a comprehensive and entertaining dancing experience. I want people to see the intrinsic value of the art form and to realize how the study of tap can make them better at all the other dance forms. Being a tap teacher is a little different than the other disciplines because it is fighting to keep its numbers up. I know that every time I teach it is up to me to inspire the students and thereby perpetuate the art of tap.

To be a good master teacher you must know yourself. You must continue to take class from other great teachers so that you realize how you learn. If you have forgotten how to learn, then how can you teach? And you must have a style or something unique to offer to the dance form you teach. If you are already an effective teacher and have ample experience getting your message across, then it is usually crucial to accredit yourself so that people will want to hire you. This might be a show that you have done or something or someone you have assisted or choreographed for. Your resume needs to show some worthwhile professional achievements. There are some teachers who are so good at what they do that that is all that they need to make it as a master teacher, but I do not believe that is the norm.

The hardest part of being a master teacher is the pressure to be good and consistently give good classes. Early in the morning you may not quite feel up to it, but your class must be nothing short of your best anyway. Also, many students will want to write themselves off, but I have to keep them involved regardless of their level of interest, because tap is on the line here. One way I do that is by challenging their ability to just dance. After all, it is called tap dance isn’t it?

I think that to be good, you must always keep learning. The worst thing that can happen to any learning institution is to cease gaining knowledge. Imagine a university where no one does research or a scientist that never does any experiments. If everyone keeps learning, then everyone keeps growing! I learn from other teachers and even students every time I teach workshops or conventions. It keeps everyone fresh, inspired, and motivated to carry on the art of dance.

Teachers who have students with professional aspirations should get their students to start trying to be professional now. Being professional is as much a mind-set as it is being paid money to dance. They should audition for everything they can immediately, even if they are not ready. This will give them a realistic notion of what it takes to work in this industry. You can talk about it, even simulate it in class, but there is nothing like the real thing and the learning experience that comes from it.