In the Middle of It

photograph by Kenny Braun

It isn't exactly the best time to be talking with Acia Gray. As a rule, three weeks out from a big performance is not the point when an artist working on that performance is going to be just bursting with confidence about what he or she is doing. See, that's right in the thick of the rehearsal process ó roughly midway, give or take a few rehearsals ó and the artists have been working long enough to have their initial enthusiasm for the material wear off but not long enough for them to have acquired a sense of mastery over it. They're lost in the work, in the piece's challenges and their seemingly inadequate efforts to meet them, in their exertions, their frustrations, and in their sense that time is running out to make the show work.

Mere minutes into my conversation with Gray, it's clear that the longtime dancer and choreographer who's also currently the producing artistic director and managing director of Tapestry Dance Company, is feeling those old three-week anxieties. Tapestry's late February show at the Paramount Theatre ó which Gray is choreographing all by herself ó is weighing on her. "I wanted to see if I could do it, my ego wanted to know, 'Can I choreograph a whole show? Can I do this?' It's about killed me.

"And it's not so much just choreographing the show, it's the choreography, it's the producing artistic director aspect, the managing director aspect, and I'm dancing in it. It's nothing new, we've all been there, but I'm still in it, so I don't know what it is yet, you know? I'm literally in the middle of it. You know, here I am in the first act, and 'Oh my god, how am I gonna clean this part because it's partners and I'm one of them?' That's where I am right now. I'm really glad I'm not in the second act all the way through because it'd kill me. And what's left last? My solo. Is it choreographed? What is this? February 6th? No!! You know, it just waits. It's like, 'I'll do that, I can deal with that.' And I do work best under pressure."

Well, the pressure is certainly on, and for the first time in Tapestry's eight-season history, Gray must shoulder it alone. The partner with whom she founded the company and developed it into one of Austin's most spirited and enthusiastically received dance troupes isn't in the studio with her to share the burden. Deirdre Strand is presently on leave from her duties as co-artistic director, and that means Gray is performing a solo in more ways than one. "Tapestry means something in many different ways to many different people," Gray suggests. "But artistically, it was always a melding of styles and a melding of our personalities and choreography," the atmospheric, often ethereal jazz and ballet of Strand, the ebullient tap dance of Gray. "When Deirdre announced that she wanted to take a break," Gray continues, "I think what shifted more than anything was Tapestry's artistic vision. This will be the first time that Tapestry is presenting an artistic vision that is only mine. And for a dance company, I see that as a very big shift."

Which is precisely why three weeks out from this show, the Every-Shade-of-Gray production, is the time to check in with this artist. This is the build-up to the Big Audition, the Momentous Opportunity, the Turning Point. If she hangs in there through this most stressful of periods, if she carries the weight, if she perseveres, Gray's whole life after this moment could change. Sure, it sounds like the stuff of melodramatic backstage musicals ó and it is ó but Gray knows it first-hand. And not from performing in some roadshow revival of 42nd Street. She's lived it.

Before there was Tapestry, there was Austin on Tap. As the name implies, it was a locally based dance company that specialized in tap, and in the Eighties, it was strikingly successful. As Gray puts it, "Until 1994 ó pre-Lord of the Dance, pre-Riverdance, pre-Tap Dogs, pre-whatever ó Austin on Tap was the busiest tap dance company touring in the country. Little-bitty Austin on Tap. It was just amazing, and it was here in Austin, which was really cool." Gray and Strand were both dancers with the company from its founding in 1982 through the rest of the decade. Gray was also its managing director.

In the spring of 1989, Gray learned of a Creative Tap Residency at the Colorado Dance Festival with one of the form's true masters, Charles "Honi" Coles. "Incredible Mr. Honi Coles," Gray recalls fondly. "It was the first time there was going to be a creative residency in tap dancing ó ever! ó with one of these masters. So I wanted to audition. Well, I had to make a tape and send it in. Austin on Tap was on a two-month tour, so I got this stage at the university where we were doing a show, and I tried to put all this stuff together to show, quote-unquote, how good I was. It was like, 'Somebody tell me I'm doin' this right.' And I'll never forget, I said, 'I can't do this anymore,' and Deirdre turned me around and goes, 'Get up there.' She wouldn't let me get off the stage. She wouldn't let me stop the audition tape. Well, that changed my life. Because I got the residency. And there were only 10, 12 people chosen in the world to do it. So I'll never forget that woman going, 'Get back up there. Just finish. Shut up and just do it.'"

Gray turns to look at the studio around her, taking in the rooms, the floors, the mirrors, the offices of Tapestry's new home west of downtown. "None of this would be here if it wasn't for that," she insists. "I don't know what I'd be doing. Probably be burned out on tap in general, because Austin on Tap was very rigorous. I mean, we couldn't drink on the road ó not that we were drunks, but there wasn't any alcohol ó we had to jog around hotels, we had to do push-ups. Let me put it this way, our artistic director, Debbie Bray, was a physical education major, so she trained us like we were a basketball team. And yes, we were in shape, but everybody who was involved in that company, with the exception of Deirdre and myself, quit. Nobody else is dancing professionally now. It burned everybody out."

When Gray learned she had been accepted for the residency, "there was a good amount of jealousy from the artistic director," she says, "but I was thrilled." She did the residency in July; her life was forever altered. "Honi Coles was class personified," she says. "You don't meet men like that very often. He had had a stroke, so he couldn't get up. His assistant ó actually, his partner for many years ó did a lot of the work. But all you had to do was look in his eyes. He was just amazing."

Before long, she and Strand, who was in Golden taking dance classes, had a fateful conversation. "Deirdre and I were sitting in a booth in Pearl's Restaurant on Pearl Street in Golden, Colorado, and I said, 'I can't go back.' And I knew I couldn't. So she said, 'I can't either.' And we said, 'Okay, we will resign.' Now, we had already signed contracts for the next year, so we said we can't go back, yet we were committed to a full season, which was going to be really hard.

"To make a long story short, we started the tours and were at Miller Outdoor Theatre, and I think we started talking, and somebody who was working the show there heard us. Well, word got back to the director, and when we got back from this trip I got a phone call, and was asked to resign. Part of me was so pissed, but the other part of me was so happy. That was another best-thing-that-could-happen.

"That was the first week of October, 1989, and Deirdre and I said, 'Well, we should start our own company, jazz and ballet and tap. We started making calls to the booking agent of Austin on Tap, and by October 17th, we had Tapestry and it was Deirdre and myself and a gentleman named Fred Moritel, who was another one of the 12 from the residency, and we had representation by the end of the year. We were joined by another gentleman that Deirdre had worked with before, Valdo Perales, and it was the four of us for about six months. And it's just built up from there."

Tapestry began putting on concerts, with Strand and Gray divvying up the responsibilities for choreographing the shows and providing each other with the invaluable feedback to each other's work. And to bring in a little cash for the two, they began teaching dance classes in a second-floor aerobics studio near Research Boulevard and Burnet Road. Eventually, that blossomed into the Tapestry Academy, and the company grew to the point where it was able to provide salaries for a company of seven dancers. Last summer, Tapestry made one of its biggest leaps yet by relocating its studio space from Northwest Austin to the center of town.

Gray takes credit for the move. "It was something I wanted to do for a long time," she says. "It was a nice space we had, but I was never very crazy about being in the suburbs. Then in February or March of this past year, it was one of those gut feelings that would not leave me. And I really pushed this thing. I mean, big time. If we had one of those business boards, we'd be up at Rutland and Burnet with no debt. Instead, we're here at 507 Pressler with a lot of debt. But we have twice as many students, and we're serving twice as many people. So what's more important, serving people or staying out of debt? There haven't been many arguments about that.

"I'm very happy with the move. This feels real. It feels like we're legitimate. Broke as shit but legitimate. I love to be in the city. If I'd had my druthers, we were gonna be on Congress. But parking's a problem, all that kinda stuff. I want to be smack dab in the middle of things."

photograph by Kenny Braun

And that's certainly where Gray is. But being there alone is tough. "I really miss Deirdre," she says. "I mean, really do. It's amazing how we balanced each other and got things done. This is the first time in my career, working with a group of dancers, that I don't have somebody to bounce off of. 'Cause I'm a Libra and we can never make decisions on our own. We have to have a committee. By myself, I'm finding myself questioning my 15 years of professional experience, which I shouldn't be doing, but it's the first time I can't go, 'Deirdre, what is this?'

"We rub off on each other. I know she's rubbed off on me. She came in and watched a rehearsal the other day, and she goes, 'You know, I would have done the same thing. I would have done these things the same way.'"

Still, as heartening as that endorsement was, it wasn't enough to convince Gray that she's equipped to direct a company of professional dancers as diverse as Tapestry's repertoire. "Last year, the dancers were being directed to cover all their elements," she notes. "If they were ballerinas, they would look to Deirdre; if they were tap dancers, they would look to me. All bases were covered. Now, you have six very diverse dancers, and a theatre tap dancer directing them. I mean, I know many forms of dance, and I've had to dance them all, but I'm really a hoofer. I am a classic musical theatre hoofer. But I still have this classical ballerina, this classical male, a musical theatre guy, a tap dancer, and so on. Now, I feel blessed to have all this diversity, but I worry: Am I utilizing their talents in a way that they would want to be utilized? Just being sure I'm covering all those diverse bases; it's a challenge.

"I have to find ways to communicate within their vocabularies. To one person you're gonna say 'step-ball-change,' to the other you're gonna say, 'chassé.' Everybody understands, but there are many subtleties, too. There's a duet in the concert, it's got a lot of different levels to it. It's very sensuous, then it's very goofy at the same time. I was talking to Deirdre about it, and she said something very simple. She said, 'Those dancers need to hear the word "dynamics."' I'd said all the acting words, like 'Feel it. When you go up to her, when you pick her up, really feel her body.' And this dancer just needed to hear, 'More dynamics.' That's really been weird. It seems so simple, and it's not. It's not at all. You have to develop not only that trust from artist to choreographer, but a language. We all know how to dance, but we have to develop that language to understand what's truly going on."

Watching Gray perform, it's hard to imagine that she doesn't understand "what's truly going on." She appears so at home onstage, her movements so casual and yet so right; they have the effortlessness of a master about them. And as her feet move, her face radiates such joy, joy bordering on ecstasy. This is the face of one at one with her calling. And that is precisely how she describes it herself.

"One, let me tell you that that 100% ecstasy feeling is rare," she cautions. "It probably happens to me four or five times a year. It doesn't happen often, because that ego, that thinker, that left side of your brain that's worried about what somebody is going to think, pops up. That's really what destroys all performers, when we start thinking about what we're doing. And we all do it. And too much. Still, when I get to that point, whether I'm in rehearsal or with an audience ó this is going to sound so cliché ó it feels like one. Everything. It's like meditation. All thought leaves. It's pretty incredible.

"It's funny. Dancemagazine reviewed me in Chicago, and the writer didn't say anything about my technique or anything, just talked about that joy. I love it, but I love it when I'm up there. The process of getting to it... it's a real love-hate relationship. Because it's an endless amount of work. It's not all fun and games.

"That's why Deirdre resigned, why she's taking a sabbatical. She was tired. Burned out. Choreographically burned out, physically burned out. It can tear your life up. Yeah, it's all joy and fun onstage, and we love it up there, but many times that's the only part when we can feel it because the process is so hard."

Gray is careful to lay out the cons of dance as forcefully, if not more so, than its pros, but she never keeps her pride and enthusiasm for the form out of her voice for long. "Last night when we were in rehearsal," she says, "I was telling [company dancers] Karen [Honcik] and Nick [Young], 'Tap, there's nothing like it. It's good conversation.' That's what it is. Stuff like when you get with your buddy and you just talk about all of it. It's the same thing. And it's very fulfilling. Deirdre and I only danced together one time, but I felt it a tremendous amount in that, too ó when you can really be with each other as performers, then you're really there as people. And that's what life is about."

It's that kind of comment that proves how much Gray understands, both about her art and life. Her conversation is never about dance or people; the two are always intertwined. She describes a ritual with the company dancers: "Before we go on stage ó and we've done this since the inception of Tapestry ó we get in a circle, and we do 'good show' to each other all the way around, and we make a point of telling the dancers that the most important thing is the relationship between us. If the audience gets it, that's great. It's icing on the cake. That's not to say it's not for them. But what we're giving our audience is the chance to come in and experience what we are experiencing. And that means a lot to us, a tremendous amount.

"A dancer who worked with us in past years told Deirdre and I that you can't have a company in which dancers are friends. You can't do both. You dance, and you go home. And in many, many situations, that's true. It's hard. Here, those interpersonal relationships are number one. They come first. You could dance your ass off and be brilliant, but if you're a shithead, you're not staying around. It won't work. It's not worth it. The show is not worth it. Our lives go by every day.

"This company is very close-knit. Maybe that's naïve. I think you should like the people you work with."

The sentiment might be one Gray gleaned from Strand or perhaps from Honi Coles. Clearly, she treasures his gifts, and she seeks to honor him in her work. "I think about him all the time," she says. "He did a simple dance ó at the time it was called "the Walkaround"; we now call it the "Coles Stroll" ó it was a very simple circle dance where you kept adding sounds. Last night, I was teaching part of it, and I said, 'Who choreographed this?' I want everybody in that room to know who it was and who he is. I feel that legacy in me, and I feel the need to hand on what's been handed to me.

"I've trained Nick and Karen both for a very long time, and they know what all these different rhythms are and how it's going to go into their body, and they know where I'm coming from. There's a piece we're working on with Karen and Nick and I in it, and I don't want to sound egotistical, but I see my legacy in them. Because when we dance, we truly sound like one person, and I never have to explain anything to them, which is so incredible to me. I mean, it's not that I can't challenge them ó I know I can, rhythmically and with steps ó but it's really a wonderful feeling to put something up and just know that we're one. And I think it's because of that feeling, that in-my-element feeling, when I diversify this company and diversify this concert, I want that same feeling for the whole hour and a half."

A feeling of oneness for the company, for the audience. That's what Gray is aiming for, and it's hard to see if you're on its trail three weeks out from the big show. But then, it's hard to see almost any time. After eight seasons with Tapestry, with a steadily growing company and an enthusiastic public and supportive board, Gray still wonders "what Tapestry and Deirdre and myself are contributing. I don't think we'll ever know. You never know what your audience gets from your work. That's just the struggle of expression. You just keep throwing things out there and pulling 'em back in."

Still, Gray is not about to give up the fight, just as she hasn't for 15 years. She knows what it's about; she has the key that will carry her through the Big Audition, the Turning Point, and it's a key which suggests a bright future ahead for Tapestry under her solo leadership. "Every time I go onstage," she says, "I give myself the same talk: Just breathe and just stay here. That's truly all you have to do. Just stay here. And stop thinking about what's about to come up. Watch what's going on. Think about them. Be up there for them."

---

Tapestry Dance Company presents Swingin' Then and Now February 27 & 28, Fri & Sat, at the Paramount Theatre. Call 474-9846.