A member of Churún Merú waits in position for the start of the next dance.

You’ll find them here every Thursday night, learning to perform the traditional dances of Eastern Europe, South America, Africa, the United States and Canada. The International Folk Dancers of Ottawa — the only international folk-dancing group in the region — study the rhythms and motions of dances that are centuries old.

“This one is Hungarian; it’s my favourite,” Rose Kopil, 63, says before demonstrating a dance from the group’s repertoire of 2,000-plus dances. She joined the group 20 years ago.

With the men forming a circle around the women, Kopil blends into a whirl of stamping feet, weaving steps and snapping heels, as the troupe practises “Somogyi Karikázó” or “Girl’s Dance.”

“I get goosebumps every time it comes on,” Kopil says.

Kopil was born in Gatineau, on the Quebec side of the National Capital region. Her father was Slovak and her mother was Hungarian, and, she says, she grew up recognizing the importance of belonging to a culture.

When Kopil’s first husband died, she joined the IFDO. She found dancing “was like being on a high.”

“But mostly,” Kopil says, “I joined because I heard Hungarian music, could do Hungarian dances. There was nowhere else I could find that in Ottawa.”

Members of the International Folk Dancers of Ottawa perform at Greekfest.

Like many other members of the club, Kopil hates to miss a session. She arrives at the Jack Purcell Community Centre in downtown Ottawa each week, ready for a workout.

“We’re like a village and it’s a celebration really,” she says. “We hear our background music and can actually dance it. We picture our parents having done that. And now it’s our turn. It’s a way to reconnect with our different pasts.”

Seasoned instructors

Members are taught by seasoned instructors, who know the dances and can lead the rest of the group.

“We’re all like monkeys,” IFDO president Lucette Lepage says. “What we see, we do.”

Through IFDO-sponsored workshops, members sometimes learn a few new steps from guest teachers, who sometimes come from the countries where the dances originate.

Recently, Ann Smerciu, an instructor with the Edmonton International Dancers and the artistic director of the BALADA Romanian Folk Dance Ensemble, came to Ottawa to teach IFDO members.

Labelle describes the typical workshop as a day-long event that usually begins at 9 a.m. and lasts until midnight.

“You learn, you practise and then it’s memory,” she says.

Since it began in the early 1970s, the IFDO’s mandate has been to give local dancers the chance to practise their culture by means of footwork, and to meet people from diverse backgrounds.

“Dancing can keep culture going,” Lepage says. “Some people get teary-eyed watching us. They appreciate that their country’s dances are still being enjoyed. We keep doing it, and they value that it’s still alive. To us, that’s really important.”

By participating in events across Canada and internationally, such as the three-day Dance Flurry festival in Saratoga Springs, N.Y. and the New England Folk Festival Association’s festival of music and dance, the group helps preserve folk dancing as something performed by common people of all generations.

“For me,” Lepage says, “it’s the music that calls, then the dancing and, of course, the people. You make good friends, lifetime friends.”

With unique and distinct variations between the traditions, folklore, songs and dances of different countries, Ottawa’s folkdance population has grown to include a wide range of groups aside from the IFDO.

Dances of the 'Falls'

Johanna Escalante, nine, is a Grade 3 student at Covent Glen Catholic School. In 2002, she moved to Canada from Caracas. Soon after she arrived, she joined the Churún Merú Venezuelan folklore dance troupe.

Churún Merú is the Venezuelan indigenous term for Angel Falls, a 979-metre-high cascade of water that is trademark to Venezuela’s Canaima National Park.

Here, the name of the world’s highest waterfall is adopted by a group of vivacious dancers whose multicoloured, flowing skirts and lively dance techniques are coupled with graceful sways and static poses.

“We are doing folklore in Canada, but it’s our folklore,” says the group’s director, Pedro Diaz. “We wanted to pick a name that identified with our culture, because we do it for the love of our culture.”

Churún Merú dancers celebrate their Venezuelan heritage.

Like the falls, Churún Merú leaves a remarkable visual impression. Taking their inspiration from the native dances of Venezuela, with roots linked to Spaniards and Africans, almost all pieces are lively — made up of flashes of colour, sudden twirls, animated bows, symmetrical lines, pinwheel clusters and limbs fanned wide.

“The dances are really expressive and beautiful,” Johanna says. “Your arms sway up and down and there’s the skirt, too. I like it because it sort of shows a wave.”

The club — made up of about 30 members — was created 13 years ago under the guidance of Diaz and co-founder Ismenia Caravallo. Diaz began performing early in life, when he was a little boy growing up in Venezuela. Diaz says his passion for dance led him to go professional at 18, as part of the contemporary dance troupe and Danzas Táchira.

Later, when he moved to Canada, he “wanted to show something different to the people.”

So, 10 years ago, he became director of Churún Merú. He has spent the past decade mapping the choreography of dances, showing his pupils how to freeze in mid-rotation on cue, sewing authentic Venezuelan dresses for his performers and drafting write-ups that explain the origins of certain dances, the instruments used and the way in which each is performed.

“There’s so much theatre and education involved in the process,” he says.

“All my time is committed to this. It’s hard to get time for personal stuff with family and friends, but this is my life.”

Each year, Churún Merú performs at events such as Canada Day as well as in area schools and shopping centres. Last August, the troupe opened for the famous, Puerto Rican salsa singer Elvis Crespo for an audience of thousands at the Latin-American Festival in Montreal.

Cultural heritage

Diaz says the group’s aim is to “keep people in good spirits and bring Venezuelan culture to them.”

“Heritage we carry in our heart. We are passing culture to young people. I don’t want related Venezuelans to lose touch with their culture.”

Johanna describes the experience as being part of “a big bunch of family.”

“It’s my country’s dance. I do it because I love my country and since I’m not there, it really, really reminds me of it. I want to keep it in my heart.”

Johanna Escalante prepares to skirt around stage at a group dance practice.

In addition to being carriers of custom, folk dancers often celebrate dances that are integral to their cultural heritage.

“Just knowing my background and knowing the moves, the tradition, how it’s done … that’s what I take from it,” says Lenny Wu, performer of the traditional Chinese lion dance in another of Ottawa’s cultural dance groups.

Usually performed at weddings, festivals and such important occasions as Chinese New Year, the lion dance consists of several dancers in a costume imitating the movement of a big cat.

For more than 15 years, the Success Lion Dance Troupe has been celebrating this 3,000-year-old Chinese tradition.

“I try to make sense of it. It’s more than planning and choreography; it symbolizes prosperity, luck and happiness,” says Wu, a Canadian native, whose parents were born in Hong Kong.

The history of the lion dance can be traced back to Buddhist lore. Legends tell of a creature that brought heavy rain, thunder and lightning down upon villagers. Although frightening, the fierce storm, brought an exceptional harvest.

Evil spirits

Today, the lion is considered a guardian creature that represents power, courage, friendship and vitality, and the dance is performed in its honour.

“It’s supposed to scare away evil spirits,” Wu says.

Two lions – the northern lion and the southern lion — join to co-ordinate a dance that is vibrant in colour, character and style. While the northern lion dances playfully and delicately, the southern lion’s movements are more forceful.

“The dance is really specific with distinct movements — there’s the legs and the arms, too” Wu says. “It can take the form of a crouching stance, or it could move about in waves. It’s unique because we have the object and we’re very energetic.”

Dancers with the Success Lion Dance Troupe hoist the 18-kilogram cat's head.

The heads of the lions are made of papier mâché, brightly painted and decorated with fringes and tassels. A red ribbon is attached to the southern lion’s head and extends to a long piece of material that represents the beast’s body. It is under this fabric that dancers crouch to form the body and tail. The northern lion’s body and tail are simply formed by the dancers, who dress up in bright costumes, adorned with tassels.

Operating the head, mouth, arms, legs and tail, the dancers form a team and guide the lion through repetitive patterns that bring it to life.

Accompanied by gongs, cymbals and drums, dancers make the lions do figure-eights, kiss each another, play tricks and execute leaps that require agility and balance.

“It’s important to know what everyone else is doing and to watch out for the person next to you,” Wu explains. “There’s a lot of movement, a lot of strength and power put in.”

With the heads alone weighing about 18 kilograms each, Wu admits that it can be hard work but says he loves seeing the reactions of others.

“I like it when people come and watch," Wu says."We try to keep them cheerful and get the kids jumping for joy. I did the northern lion at a Saturday school once and a girl was tugging at my arm. She was just happy, having fun. She was probably less than 10 years old. She had never seen anything like it before.”

Art and leisure

The only active lion dance group in the capital region, the Success Lion Dance Troupe is recognized throughout Ottawa’s Chinese community and the rest of the city.

Made up of about 10 members, it has performed at such venues as Chinatown, the Congress Centre, Frank Clair Stadium and the National Arts Centre.

“What does it take to be a dancer?” Wu asks. “Pride. Enthusiasm. If you have the physical strength it helps. If there’s anything else, it’d be the culture.”

While the lion dance is still performed in large metropolitan centres with significant Chinese population, Wu says he fears it might eventually become “a dying sport.”

“Not many people do it, and they aren’t aware they could be missing out on something big if it loses its popularity. Maybe there’s just a difference between people who are apt to embrace it. Everyone should realize the importance of multiculturalism; it’s nice to take interest.”

Back at Ottawa’s Jack Purcell Centre, IFDO dancer Rose Kopil agrees. It’s almost 10 p.m. and she’s still dancing.

As the dancers start to wind down in number and tempo, many make their way over to the sides of the room and sit out the last few dances.

Rose sits on a plastic chair, beads of sweat line her forehead and a smile is fixed on her face.

“Look at them,” she says, gesturing at the dancers still on the floor. “They actually look gorgeous. Their bodies just move in such a nice way. It has to be an art form. It’s just so pretty to look at.”

She pauses, and then adds: “I’ll dance for as long as I can, even if I come on crutches. No, with a walker. It’d be the one last thing I’ll still always want to do.”

Related Links International Folk Dancers of Ottawa (IFDO) Comprehensive list of international dances Teaching folk dancing