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Boston Conservatory Hires

First Hip-Hop Dance Faculty

Member

5/12/2016 by Monique Melendez

Multi-hyphenate Duane Lee Holland Jr. joins the Boston Conservatory's dance division and will teach electives for Berklee students beginning this fall.
 

Multi-hyphenate Duane Lee Holland Jr. will hold The Boston Conservatory's first-ever full time faculty position in hip-hop dance. ! Holland Jr. joins the Boston Conservatory’s dance division and will teach electives for Berklee students beginning this fall, according to a press release. Holland marks the Conservatory’s first hiring since its January 2016 merger with Berklee College of Music and the first Conservatory teaching role that will be available to both Conservatory and Berklee students.!

Berklee College of Music & Boston Conservatory Agree to Unite as Single School!
“I’m extremely humbled and honored to work with the future stars of music, dance and theater,” said Holland in the release. “I’ve taught a wide range of talent over the years and I feel the main objective is to provide empowerment through a healthy and rigorous process of practice and theory. Students at the Boston Conservatory

at Berklee individually already embody the balance of rigorous practice and theory. I look forward to collaborating with them to cultivate an encouraging environment of innovation and continued excellence.”! Duane Holland Jr. launched his professional dance career at 17 with Rennie Harris Puremovement in Philadelphia, the first hip-hop theater dance company, where he went on to serve as Assistant Artistic Director. While performing with RHPM, he taught at MIT, Stanford, Jacobs Pillow, University of Utah, UCLA, Monte Carlo Ballet Company, Pennsylvania Ballet Company, Philadanco, Alvin Ailey Dance Theater and Broadway Dance Center. Holland was also assistant choreographer and assistant dance captain for Maurice Hines’ Earth,

Wind and Fire Broadway musical Hot Feet and featured in Jerry Mitchell's AIDS benefit Broadway Bares: New York Strip.!
Holland also has extensive teaching experience with stints at Boyer College of Music and Dance at Temple University, Ursinus College in Collegeville, Pennsylvania. Holland is a visiting assistant professor in the University of Iowa’s Dance Department, where he became the first hip-hop artist and choreographer to graduate from the dance program with a Master of Fine Arts.

The Daily Iowan

Jun 16, 2016

BROWN: BRIDGING THE DIVIDES OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN PROGRESS

Marcus Brown

marcus-brown@uiowa.edu

Duane Lee Holland Jr., an alumnus of the University of Iowa Dance Department and the newest addition to the Boston Conservatory/Berklee’s full-time Dance Division faculty, has exemplified a trend that would appear to be becoming more prominent. As the first full-time faculty member to be hired specifically to teach hip-hop choreography at the conservatory, Holland has opened a door for the progress of often passed-over aspects of African-American culture as respected fields of study in research in institutions of higher learning. Furthermore, the geographic placement of Holland’s previous academic and professional background in combination with the location of his current appointment reflect the boundary-crossing ability of quality of artistic work and commitment to craft.

When it comes to instances of artistic crossovers between the UI and Boston, Kirsten Greenidge’s play Baltimore, which had a scheduled production at the UI theater last year, comes to mind. In addition to being an accomplished playwright, Greenidge is an assistant professor in the College of Fine Arts at Boston University. Greenidge’s racially informative play Baltimore being shown in Iowa is a quintessential example of institutions of higher learning bridging gaps both geographically and racially to progress issues of social justices plaguing the seemingly exclusive divides between rival ivory towers.

Everything from faculty appointments to choices in commissioned work come together to further illustrate the common ground that can be found in the realm of higher learning despite the arbitrary delineations that can feel all too common within the stratified environment of academia. This holds especially true when it comes to the endeavours of African-American artists, academics, and those that can be described as both.

Because instances of racial insensitivity, discrimination, and outright erasure are at times viewed as isolated incidents in their respective post-racial bubbles of higher learning with no possibility of repetition in an environment with similar incubating factors, the importance of removing borders for African-Americans inhabiting the hierarchical academic space can become understated. It becomes easy to forget that the goal should not be to isolate and dissect these. What is blatantly demonstrated once the façade of academic stratification and illusionary disparity is cast away is, given the opportunity to witness the middle ground present once pomp and circumstance are removed the equation, revealing a holistic and universal to progress into a more hospitable and accommodating environment in which students can learn valuable information, enrich themselves as individuals, with the end of joining society with the skills and experience to better contribute to the society they wish to see in the world. As opposed to being slowly broken down and molded into nuts and gears that further perpetuate a cyclical juggernaut of mass production, capitalism, and ultimately the inability to live life outside of a monolithic institution built upon and fueled the stifled ambition and reluctance to deviate from the inescapable Babylon that has cemented the foundation of this society to such extent that conscious objection could result inability to quite literally become unable to afford to stay alive. Instances as though they happened in a vacuum, when in all actuality the factors and catalytic motivations can be found on any quad or in any student union regardless of geographic location, emphasis of study, prestige, or any other socially constructed means of differentiation.

These pseudo-distinctions distract from the issues that fester in the confines of every dining hall, every dormitory, and ultimately every classroom. It is for this reason that the work of those such as Holland and Greenidge, who are working to redefine the niche-like spaces often reserved for African-Americans and other people of color deserve recognition. The successes of African-Americans in spaces that were traditionally inaccessible and attained without sacrificing the intention and integrity of their craft ultimately produce more than the immediate benefits to the individual and contribute to an ever increasing standard of African-American excellence.

 The Daily Iowan

Jun 16, 2016

MOVEMENT IN CULTURE

By Cassandra Santiago
cassandra-santiago@uiowa.edu

Duane Lee Holland Jr. is no stranger to firsts.
At 17 years old, he launched his professional dance career with the first theater/hip-hop/dance company Rennie Harris Puremovement. In May 2015, he became the first hip-hop artist and choreographer to graduate with an M.F.A. from the University of Iowa Dance Department. And as of last month, Holland is the Boston Conservatory/Berklee’s first full-time faculty member in hip-hop.
“This allows me to establish myself as a scholar and as an artist, but I still exist within a community that isn’t really talked about, let alone acknowledged or celebrated,” Holland said. “When I was growing up, hip-hop was only supposed to last five seconds, so having this opportunity allows me to speak for my elders. The hiring is allowing me to be a part of a lineage; it’s not necessarily about me.”
Not one to sugarcoat his purpose, Holland said he will make certain his students “eat the whole meal and don’t just take pieces of it” when he begins teaching in the fall — the meal being hip-hop culture.
“What I’m going to make sure is that they have each course and that they don’t pick at the courses, like they have been — like they like to pick at the culture,” he said. “You cannot contextualize unless you’ve taken the time out to study the actual facts and fundamentals, but if you don’t and feel like, ‘Oh, I can just take this piece,’ that’s when your ignorance is illuminated.”
Those who know the Pennsylvania native, such as UI English Associate Professor Michael Hill, recognize the wealth Holland has to offer.
“He’s an individual who takes exactly what he knows and the reservoir of knowledge he has about performance dynamics and is a sharer,” Hill said. “He wants to give as much as he possibly can to the performers who are seeking to bring his work to life.”
Finding the best ways to continue being a sharer and beacon for hip-hop practice will test the young artist and choreographer, Hill said.
“I would say that’s the great challenge for him, taking individuals whose conception of [hip-hop] culture may be shallow and attempting to deepen it in a systemic way but also in a patient way,” the Iowa professor said.
Thankfully, Holland’s outstanding reputation as a scholar and teacher earned the conservatory’s support of his vision.
Conservatory Director of the Dance Division Cathy Young wrote in an email that “there is no perception at [the institution] of hip-hop as being on the ‘low end’ of dance. We perceive hip-hop as being an intensely physically rigorous, virtuosic, expressive, and profound movement, language, and dance genre, equally as relevant as any other form we offer.”
Young said Holland’s classes will be “valued and supported in the same way as all other courses in the curriculum.”
Therefore, the conservatory granted its new instructor the freedom to design his studio and academic courses a move Young supports due to Holland’s “depth of expertise, his scholarly work, his excellence as a pedagogue and teacher, his enthusiasm, his wide range of experience, his ability to inspire students, and his ability to collaborate with other artists and faculty members.”
But Holland’s journey, as with so many, didn’t begin where it now stands; hailing from a family of athletes meant that dance only became a priority after several years of gymnastics. Still, years of training and competing in the intense sport did little to abate his love for hip-hop, especially from 1992 to 1996, a period he calls the “highlight years of hip-hop.”
His transition from gymnastic star to hip-hop guru was organic. Ultimately it led him down a road filled with mentors, scholars, and pioneers of hip-hop practice — including Puremovement’s Harris — and a lengthy list of experiences both performing and teaching at universities, in workshops, and with companies across the nation.
In fact, Holland spent the last year as a visiting assistant professor in the UI Dance Department, which, he says, taught him much about hip-hop’s modern use.
“Hip-hop has become such a commodity, but little do people know that hip-hop is the contemporary representation of the African-American and the Latin American,” he said.
“They think it’s stuff you put on; they think it’s a couple of words; they think it’s a couple of dance skills … hip-hop to me is a reinforcement of who we are as people of color and the intellect, sophistication, innovation, and spirituality of that.”
Embracing every aspect of hip-hop, as Young said the conservatory/Berklee plans to do, is not an idea woven throughout the world of performance arts.
“At the core is a racialized evaluation system in which you look at Misty Copeland in the world of ballet and why it took so long for her to emerge as a black prima ballerina,” Hill said. “In part, the difficulty of that emergence had less to do with a lagging talent among black ballerinas, but it had a lot to do with how people conceptualized what a ballerina looked like. It’s a similar situation in the context of musical expression, of cultural expression that surrounds black and brown people in this world. If it is produced by black folks, if it is created by black folks, then it’s devalued.”

In the long run, Holland hopes his hiring inspires the conversation of art hierarchy.
“I hope those type of discussions are started and reinforced because [black and brown people] are still looked at as toys, as things that you can have, and not actual human beings,” he said. “And that’s what I want this opportunity to do, for people to see the beauty of who we are as people, not as things. I’m hoping that this opportunity creates real discussion and not politically correct discussion.” 
Throughout his journey, Holland has managed to leave his imprint on many, including fellow dancers, choreographers, and friend Alvon Reed.
“Duane never half-asses anything,” Reed said. “If you ask him to do something six different ways, he will give you six different wonderful ways of doing it.”
UI theater Lecturer Carol MacVey called Holland a “tsunami of energy and discipline” who was “a remarkable teacher” for her. 
On his off-time, Holland remains a devoted arts consumer with trips to museums, galleries, and jazz lounges. He’s a self-claimed homebody and vegan who occasionally watches documentaries.
But most of his time is invested in his work as an artist and choreographer. On Saturday and June 19, he will host hip-hop workshops at Rivercity Pilates, 1210 Jordan St., North Liberty. On Saturday, he will also perform in an installation called Dis/Unity: Service at 8 p.m. on the second floor of the Deadwood, 6 S. Dubuque St.
He credits much of his success thus far to not only his support system of family, friends, and mentors but also to his resilience.
“I have plenty of friends who say maybe you’re not supposed to dance behind an artist; maybe you’re supposed to be the artist that people come to see,” he said. “Staying true to who I was from the beginning is allowing me to have faith to recognize that I’m supposed to be where I am at this moment.”

LITTLE VILLAGE

Review of Dis/Unity: A Service!

By Loren Glass - Jun 21, 2016

These United States have never been united. Riven by racism, haunted by homophobia, policed by patriarchy and pervaded with violence, the divisive history of this country perpetually belies the unity it claims to represent. This tragic irony initially seemed the central message of the remarkable performance-based installation I witnessed in the cavernous (and un-air conditioned!) space above the Deadwood Tavern on the evening of June 18. Designed most urgently as a memorial for and testimony to the 49 people, mostly queer and Latinx, who were murdered at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, Florida on June 12, the performance also ensured that the audience didn’t forget the shameful legacy of genocidal violence of which that massacre was only the most recent, and by far not the “largest,” example. And yet the ultimate message, in the spirit of the celebratory events that preceded it during the Gay Pride parade earlier that day, was one of love, reconciliation and healing.

It would be impossible to summarize fully the experience of witnessing, and participating in, this remarkable performance event, but I want to follow one persistent image that, for me, distilled the political challenge it engaged. That is the image of the American flag. From the opening scene on the sidewalk, when Barber, body quavering and tears running down his cheeks, holding a cluster of cotton balls dyed red, white and blue, slowly approached Esther Baker-Tarpaga, in tight red shorts and red-, white- and blue-striped tube socks, the flag and its signature color scheme pervaded both the outfits and the sets. Duane Lee Holland, a dancer of remarkable talent and strength, sported flag- themed socks and a red, white and blue Stetson; Baker-Tarpaga donned and doffed American flags throughout the hour-long event; Barber, during the second part of the performance, stood in the corner of a smaller room to the rear of the building, legs apart with his back to the audience, vigorously waving an American flag; Courtney Jones, a brilliant trumpeter, played a panoply of patriotic standards throughout. The clearest message of this pervasive imagery felt obvious at first: America, bastion of white supremacy and cauldron of gun violence, is the perpetrator, the enemy. No one would pledge allegiance to that flag.

And yet, as the event unfolded, I realized that the United States, for all its liabilities, has also provided much of the language with which we express our hope for unity, equality and democracy. And while the love that Holland extolled us to embrace in his final eloquent speech was surely not (or not only) love of country, and the larger “we” that he invited us to join in the group’s final thanks to the audience is not (or at least not exclusively) a nation, American ideals and American identity nevertheless

undergirded the entire experience. The question remains, as it has always been: “Can a country founded by genocide and built on violent oppression live up to its political ideals of justice and equality, ideals which continue to inspire our hope and love?” I don’t know the answer to this question but I do know I’m proud to be a citizen of a country in which art like this can be shared and discussed.

The residency that resulted in this service was commissioned by the Englert Theater. In addition to Baker-Tarpaga, a choreographer and performance artist based in Philadelphia; Barber, a recent graduate of UI’s illustrious Intermedia program; Holland, a dancer, choreographer, singer, actor and director recently appointed as the Boston Conservatory’s first faculty member specializing in hip-hop dance; and Jones, who is just finishing a stint as Visiting Professor of Trumpet at the Voxman School of Music, the group included Raquel L. Monroe, a scholar, artist, and activist based in Chicago; Heidi Wiren Bartlett, a sculptor and performance artist based in Iowa City; and Adam Burke, a local videographer who recorded the entire event. And if you missed it, don’t worry — they’ll be back at the Englert in fall 2017.