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 All in the Family
By Joshua Bartlett
Dancers growing up with a dance-teacher parent
Serious dance students often think of their dance teachers as
if they are parents. They provide discipline, tough love,
affirmation, and instruction in the ways of art and life. But
quite a few dancers have a dance teacher who is their
parent. The dynamics of those relationships, particularly for
children who decide to follow Mom or Dad into the dance field,
bring up a number of issues when the family business
intersects with the household.
A good percentage of the children of dance teachers start
dancing at an early age. Leo Lamontagne, whose mother, Debbie
Lamontagne, directs the North Andover School of Dance in
Massachusetts, began creative movement classes when he was
barely 3 years old. Heather Berest, a former dancer with Paul
Taylor Dance Company, started dancing at age 3, and the images
of her mother twirling around the house provided her with a
lifetime of inspiration. “When I saw her move and dance, I was
so taken by it,” says Berest, who is now the artistic director
of her mother’s school, Berest Dance Center, in Port
Washington, NY. “I wanted to go where she was and never let go
of it.”
Jackie Olson, on the other hand, began dancing at 4 at her
mother’s school, the Ann Freeman Dance Academy in Hickory, NC,
but didn’t make the commitment to dance and teach
professionally until she was in college.
For those dancers whose parents provide only marginal support
for their artistic goals, having a parent who is an insider in
the dance world might seem like a real advantage. So what are
the benefits of having a parent who teaches?
Rennie Gold, along with his twin brother, Rhee (who publishes
Goldrush), grew up in a family that was immersed in
showbiz: Their mother, Sherry Gold, ran a dance studio in
Randolph, MA, and their father was a theatrical talent agent.
“It was great to have parents who understood what I was
passionate about and had an understanding of where that could
lead,” says Rennie Gold. “Our household was more exciting than
everybody else’s. We had dance and show-business friends from
all over the country come in. There were sequins in the meat
loaf.”
Likewise, Olson got firsthand experience in how to run a
studio by observing her mother. “I watched her at home
organizing herself to teach in the afternoons and raise three
kids,” says Olson, now a teacher at her mother’s school. “If
you are a dance student opening up a studio by yourself,
you’re going to make mistakes. I watched Mom build that studio
up.”
For Nan Giordano, whose father is legendary jazz teacher and
choreographer Gus Giordano, the opportunity to travel was the
most exciting fringe benefit. “I have fond memories of going
out on the circuit with Dad. We got to live in Paris one
summer in a downtown furnished flat,” says Nan Giordano, now
the director of Giordano Jazz Dance Chicago. “Every
Thanksgiving, we went to the Fountainebleau Hotel in Miami for
a dance convention. All my friends were in love with my
father.”
As for the disadvantages, there were some mild irritations.
Lamontagne, an apprentice with Jump Rhythm Jazz Project in
Chicago, says he had to deal with “750 sisters” at his
mother’s studio, although that paled in comparison to the
flack and broken bones he got at school from being bullied for
his dancing. Gold recalls that the neighbors weren’t thrilled
with the cars parked all over the street in their tight ’50s
neighborhood. And Mrs. Gold always wanted to see what the
costumes looked like when they came in, so she sometimes threw
a tutu or tiara on longsuffering Rennie as an experiment.
A far more important downside was the lack of parental
supervision after school when the afternoon teaching schedule
began. “I didn’t have a mother after school,” says Olson. “She
wasn’t able to take a shopping trip or go to PTA meetings, and
she worked six days a week.” The Golds hired afternoon
babysitters, whom the rowdy twin boys went through like
Kleenex. (The longest-lasting one turned out to be a thief,
stealing money from the bedroom.) And Berest admits that,
because her mother didn’t get home from work until after 9
p.m., “I missed her presence during some teenage years.”
Sometimes proving yourself to a parent who knows a thing or
two about dancing can be tough. “There was always the pressure
of people finding out that I was Gus’ daughter,” says
Giordano. “I
 was
very hard on myself, always trying to please my father.” When
she was dancing with the company and her father directed, she
often felt awkward about complaining or being stuck in the
middle when other dancers complained.
Berest says that when she was studying with her mother “she
was painfully honest. She sometimes expressed her doubts that
I had what it took, which just made me work harder.” (During
her years with the Paul Taylor troupe, Berest, despite her
mother’s lavish praise and tears of pride, was terror-stricken
whenever her mother sat in the audience.) To add to the
pressure, sons and daughters of dance teachers are often stuck
with a cloud of perceived favoritism—justified or not—hanging
over them.
Of those interviewed, the only one who admits to a rebellious
streak is Olson. At age 13, she sometimes challenged her
mother in tap class. “I started arguing with her about
counts,” she says. “It could get rather personal in class. The
other students just looked at me like, ‘Shut up, Jackie.’ ”
Now that these dancers have grown up and become bona fide
teachers, they still feel their parents’ influence. Lamontagne,
24, inherited both generosity toward his students and good
business sense from his mother. “My mom gives students the
opportunity to love dance and appreciate the art form,” he
says. “And her business is a well-oiled machine. It’s not
often that a studio lasts for 30 years.”
Gold is still amazed at the creativity of his mother, who died
in 1994. “In the competitions she would lead the way with her
inventiveness, and the following year lots of people would do
what she did,” he says. “As a kid I’d get upset about that,
but she’d say, ‘That’s not a problem for me. That’s how I stay
one step ahead.’ She taught me to think outside the box. I
also learned to give 100 percent and demand 100 percent back.”
From her father, Giordano learned not only to take a warm,
natural quality into the classroom but also to teach with the
power and strength of a man. “My classes have a lot of
energy,” says Giordano, who also directs the Jazz Dance World
Congress. In her teaching career, Berest has taken on her
mother’s passion and drive but with a very different style.
“She uses her voice equally with her body,” says Berest.
“She’s very loud and I’m not. I tend to use physicality alone
in establishing an atmosphere of learning. But we have the
same goals—not to turn anyone away and to nurture people to
grow into themselves.”
Sometimes a parent’s lessons take a lifetime to sink in, but
they are eventually appreciated. Both Lamontagne and Berest
have wrestled with the issue of patience. “I’m a
perfectionist,” Berest says. “I’ve asked my mom how to make
students learn faster. She always says you just need patience
and one day it’s like magic. Never give up on them.” Giordano
would get frustrated when she saw how people in the business
jerked others around or acted selfishly. “My parents always
used to say, ‘Take the high road.’ It still rings in my ear
and now I hear myself saying it to my son,” she says.
When, after studying modern dance in college, Olson decided to
add modern classes to the school curriculum, some parents’
resistance stressed her to the point of stomach aches and
sleepless nights. Finally her mother said, “If you can’t
handle the people, this is not the business for you.” A light
bulb went on for Olson. “To me, that was giving me permission
to say, ‘I’ve worked hard for this; I do know what I’m talking
about, and occasionally what I want may not please everybody,’
” she says. “Sometimes you have to take a stand.”
But living with a dancing family also has its fair share of
comic turns. Gold remembers when, at age 6, he got into the
room where the props, scenery, and paint supplies for recitals
were stored. After spray painting the living-room wall into a
Jackson Pollock nightmare, he sat in a chair waiting for his
mom to return. “I was so excited because I thought she was
going to love it,” says Gold. Wrong. And after a performance
at Northwestern University, Papa Giordano went to get the car
and then spaced out, zooming home alone and leaving Nan and
the rest of the family in the freezing parking lot.
In an age when video games, computer addictions, or
overscheduled lives can lead to isolation or alienation within
families, dance provides a common link in those who run dance
schools. In celebration of the 30th anniversary of the North
Andover School of Dance, Lamontagne and his parents re-created
the “Good Morning” number from the musical Singin’ in the
Rain. (Lamontagne’s parents met in dance class, at the age
of 4.) Giordano’s sister, Amy, has run the Giordano Dance
Center, founded in 1952, since their mother passed away 14
years ago; Gus Giordano, spry in his 80s, still pops in to
give advice.
Gold, the director of The Gold School in Brockton, MA, has
helped the school evolve from its original space in the family
home’s basement to the current 10,000-square-foot facility. He
has also extended the concept of family to the community at
large. “In my program, some kids have a single parent or both
parents who work in a less affluent area,” says Gold. “They
have their kids in this dance program because they want them
in a safe environment when they’re not at home.”
For today’s children who were born into dancing families, here
is some advice from the interviewees (and it sounds like a
chorus in unison): Listen to your parents, and appreciate
them. “Sit back and realize how lucky you are to have a parent
who understands what your passion is. In the long run, it pays
off,” Gold says. Giordano suggests,“If the path is right for
you, capitalize on the gifts of your parents.”
“You have to have a heart that is open with respect and a
willingness to learn,” says Berest. “They have been successful
in what they’re doing. They are providing the road for you.”
Photo credits (from top to bottom):
Former Taylor dancer Heather Berest (center, kneeling) has
teamed up with her mother, Olga, as director of the Berest
Dance Center in Port Washington, NY. Photo by Ian Busching.
Jackie Olson and her mother, former DMA national president,
Ann Freeman. Photo by Donner Photographics
Leo Lamontagne credits his mother, Debbie Lamontagne, with
handing down good business sense and a generous spirit.
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