The State of Things; Chuck Davis

This is the State of Things I'm Frank Stayshow. The depth of Chuck Davis' feelings about dance are pretty well summed up in his acceptance speech for a prestigious award two years ago. He danced. Whatever else it might be, art, entertainment, livelihood, dance for Chuck Davis is a way of life. He formed his African-American dance ensemble in Durham after moving back to North Carolina from New York. It's a company that embodies his idea that dance has the ability to honor the past and the power to shape the future. We'll talk with Chuck Davis today, find out about his early years growing up in Raleigh, his successful career in New York, his travels in Africa, and his decision to move back home. Meet dancer and choreographer Chuck Davis just ahead on the State of Things. This is the State of Things from the American Tobacco Historic District.

I'm Frank Stayshow. To say that Chuck Davis is part of the fabric of the Triangle Cultural Community is an understatement. Seems anytime we come together from Durham's Festival for the Eno in July to Raleigh's first night celebration on New Year's Eve, Davis and his African-American dance ensemble are there. They're leading us in celebration. Chuck Davis has the kind of charisma that brings people together and inspires audiences from the American Dance Festival in Durham to elementary school assemblies in Mebbin to concert halls far beyond North Carolina. Chuck Davis is here with me today to talk about his life and his work and how it all comes together. Chuck Davis, welcome back. Good have you here. Peace and blessings, Frank, and thank you and of course, as is my rule. I wish to extend greetings to all of your listening audience and we know they extend around the globe.

So everyone, when it dares to fall to everyone, bozu, to everyone, quesadicha, to everyone sumole and a salam alaikum and it goes on and on and on. It goes on and on and on and it has gone on and on for you for low these many years and it all began in Raleigh, North Carolina, until in the 1950s. Oh, yes. Raleigh. I love it. It is the city of my birth and my father is, you know, African-American and my mom was Cherokee and so I have all of the earth, you know, blood running through my veins and my mom made the transition when I was four, my dad remarried. So I have actually two moms. I have my birth mom and I had my raised mom and my father was a cement worker, a cement finisher and he poured concrete all over the country until I was born.

The minute I came into the world, he said his running back and forth was over. He had to be there as, you know, for my upbringing. That cement in his future, I suppose, is what you say. Oh, yes. And I am a product of Raleigh, North Carolina. I'm sorry, but I was not abused in any way, but anybody, you know. There are support groups, actually, for people like you who just never had any trauma to report and feel left out. Right, and I loved it because we lived in and, you know, the old saying, it takes a village or a community to raise a child. And that's what we were accustomed to in the area in North Carolina and Raleigh, where I grew up until I was, what, five or six. We never had indoor plumbing.

We had to still use the outhouse and everything. Sears catalog became, you know, it served the dual purpose. You see, and it was, I mean, it served the dual purpose. Your commentary on consumerism, I understand. So tell us, but, but it was, you may not have been abused in the family and the community life that you talk about sounded nurturing for you, but it also was a time of the segregated south growing up there. Did you feel that? Oh, yes. I mean, we went through the area just above us on the other side of the cemetery was called Carly. And we had to deal with the taunts, you know, from the kids who would come down to the edge of the ballpark and they would scream that infamous word and throw stones and whatnot. And there was one or two incidents like the old Cresquis go inside and it was black fountain. I mean, colored and white, you know, colored and white.

We had to experience that. The ambassador theater, we go to the movies. We had to climb 19 stories to the top. By the time you reach the top, your popcorn was cold. And I remember one time my mom was born in Vidalia, Georgia. And we took the train down and we get off the train. But even in Raleigh, in the store and our neighborhood, you go in, you buy what you wanted to and you pay for it and you left the those little peanut bars, you know, logs. I went in to get it and I heard the the infamous word get out of here and naturally be in from Raleigh and when his tone of voice, even at nine years, I knew a few words and I answered him in a few words, but I reckon without my mom, my mom, boy, she put a smack on the back

of my head and she said, boy, get out of here. You know, you don't belong in coming in this door and she said, she wasn't upset about that. She was upset about the words I used because she wanted to know, man, did I learn them? Who taught it to me and so forth and so on. But even at that, you know, you get, you know, we got over it because I had a strong community coming up. We had teachers from the Washington School who made their way through our community at the end of the day. So if either one of us did something wrong, they were there to discuss it and talk with the parents about it. So we could not go home with a mouthful of lies. Even if you picked up a few profanities along the way, when did you pick up a love for dance? When did you start wanting to dance?

Oh, my goodness, I was coming out of the military. I had gone through high school and I had seen the hutsu kutsu dances at the state fair. And you know, when they came out to do that, you know, the show to get you to come in and witness what they had to offer. We had the Java Walk and the high school and the, you know, we had our drum major rats who did their routine. You know, we saw them, but that was it. When I was in the services, I was stationed at Bainbridge. You were in the Navy, right? I was in the Navy. And we had a, you know, that was through a special program two years in reserve to learn nomenclature, two years active and then two years reserve and over. And it was while there, stationed at Bethesda, I worked in the tower, which means we had duty from eight in the morning until four until three thirty nine or three fifty nine in the

afternoon. Afterwards, we kept civilian clothes on the base. We could dress in civilian clothes and go into DC and we used to do that and up in the black neighborhood, they had the Dumbar Hotel. And the basement of the Dumbar Hotel was, was the nightclub and it featured roller cave and his Latin American All-Stars. And only Maria Rodriguez was Latino, everybody else was black American. And that's where salsa for me. So now it's called salsa, but then it was mumbo and cha-cha-cha and my rangae and rumba. And we were there and they, on Sunday afternoons, they used to feature suicide mumbo. And that means only the best dancers were allowed to hit the floor when suicide mumbo was played.

So when it, I vowed I would stand on the sideline and I'm working my routine and my shoulders are going and I'm watching generally. And I'm watching Paul Hawkins because they were the champions. They were the dancers of the era. There was the game this one Sunday when Jean's partner wasn't there and Jean hit the floor and she turned, she said, Chuck Davis, come on. Boy, let me tell you, water ran down the leg and everything. My shoulders went back, I said, I'm a Capricorn, born January of the first, I'm going to hit this floor, whatever happens, happens. But I'm see, I'm a quick study. So I had watched Paul Hawkins and I had seen the movement in the choreography he did with his, so I added a little bit of my own and we went this way and we tipped that way and yada, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, and see salsa mumbo is fast. You cannot stop to breathe.

You kept going no matter what until that da, da, da, da, da, da, and on the da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, everybody applauded and everything and I stumbled to the side of the tank and Jean because up to that time when Suicide mumbo was on, only the best dancers were there. So but then because I danced with the queen, then I could hit the floor every time Suicide and I've been jumping around every since but that was strictly social. The professional part didn't come into later. Well, we're going to talk more about that as our conversation continues and about your meeting with the famed drummer, Olatunji in Washington, DC. That happened during the March on Washington. We'll talk a little bit more about that and how it came from salsa to African American dance as my conversation on the state of things continues with dancer and choreographer Chuck Davis. We're going to find out also about Chuck's travels in Africa, his work in New York and his return here to the Triangle to North Carolina.

We're going to do all of that on the state of things from North Carolina Public Radio. Broadcast service at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, stay with us. This is the state of things broadcasting from the American Tobacco Historic District.

I'm Frank Stayshow, my guest today is Chuck Davis, the leader of the Chuck Davis African American Dance Ensemble, which has been a staple of Triangle's cultural scene for almost three decades and we're trying to figure out how you got here and how you came back. So we left you at the Dunbar Hotel. We are dancing to salsa music on weekends. This is the 1950s and that's and you're at the late 50s, right? At some point you meet up with the famed drummer Ola Tunjee and tell us about that meeting in what happened. Well, that wasn't. So during the late 50s and early 60s, Tunjee was all over the place. He was just coming out of Morehouse. He decided to form his on African orchestra and as a result, you know, traditional African music and that beat was just, you know, gaining popularity and Tunjee showed on the scene. And you know, people were the cause of the beat and the colorful everything here he comes

and so much so that he was opening for James Brown. And he would open for James Brown and then, you know, they were moved to the side and so forth and doing that time at the Howard Theater. I would be backstage because I wanted to, you know, just say, hey, how are you in greeting and so forth and so on. And as a result, you know, I got to know Tunjee and Philip and Lana and everybody in the company. At the same time, things were happening in DC. Tony Lewis, Ernestine Moss and I decided we were formed our own trio after I made my debut, no, I'm sorry, not debut, my debut, you know, at the Casbah in DC and to make a long story short, they were having an international night with the, with the emphasis on Africa.

Fans had been sent to every African embassy and 90% of them had responded to attend this grand performance at the Casbah where Roland Covey was featured, but they also had Larry and Richardson and his Afro Cuban group. We were there and I used to go and watch rehearsals on the night of this big reception. Something happened to Larry's auto, they were in an accident as he was picking up dancers and they could not make it back in time. Most of the dancers and musicians were there, the decision was show must go on. So they said Chuck Davis, remember that section where Ernestine leaps across the floor and jumps into Larry's arms, I say yeah, you stand there and she's going to come and leap

and you just turn, sit her down and she'll go into the next section. I said, okay, so I was there and see in those days I had a waistline like 31, that was many tons of macaroni and cheese ago, so that's gone, but we, you know, so I did it, the rhythm was hot and was going, going, going, Ernestine did her movement and she ran and she came through the air, I caught her, but instead of just sitting her down, I decided that I was going to dance with her, so Ernestine and I were all over the floor, I put her down and then I, wait, I went off stage and the worst thing in the world happened, applause. There was tons of applause, that's it, the head grew, boom, just like this, I mean, it grew. And so afterwards, when, after, you know, the recovery, he came in and he heard what

had happened, he meant, you know, Richardson, the director and choreographer and he said, we'll keep it, we'll keep it in. So you end now, keep it in mind, I never, I had never had a dance lesson or class, just blood and guts. So because of it being Afro-Huban dance and styles, I wanted to know what I was doing. There was no information in any books anywhere. So I had to rely on talking to the old people about dance and what it is and the rhythms. They suggested I take a ballet class. So I went to miss Bernie's Hammond's ballet studio. And I'm there and I hear all these little kids about three feet high and here I am six feet five. The first two classes I was fine. Here comes the next class and they had the kids doing these, doing

the chanais. And I'm looking and I'm saying, oh my lord, I did one chanais and my leg knocked this little girl about 40 feet. That's it. Give me for not knowing what that is. Now chanais is the turn. When you spot and you step and you're turning, you're turning, you're turning and you continue moving across. Six, five and you're rolling around the room. And just put a little girl and she naturally, she let the world know that someone had bumped her. So I says, okay, no, I'll go to Miss Clara Harrington. So I went to Miss Clara Harrington studio for jazz and tap. And I must credit Miss Harrington and God rest the soul. She is passed on. You know, my fifth position was like this. Because this was over here. You got your studio, the ceiling in her studio. So fifth position, right? Your hand should be straight up, right? They should be like this. Okay. So the arc over top. But it's like this. He was a ceiling, you know, but and I was dancing with my shoulders

hunch because she was only for 10. And I didn't have that motivation. Now, while all this was happening, I was at Howard in the dance department and theater department. And Jeffrey Holder came to town. Jamaica was on Broadway in a close and Jeffrey and Barbara Wright, who was from Washington and with Jones and Hay with dance studio, Barbara Wright decided to open her own studio. Jeffrey came down to teach master classes. And you know, at that point, Jeffrey was at that era and time where he dressed in all white. Everything was white. And he had this, oh, this attitude about him that was commanding. And his voice was there. And I was, everything was like this. This man was a grill. He was a guru. He was a God

because he came in. I took his class. And the first thing he said, Chuck Davis, straighten your back because, you know, I was and I've been hunting all this time. So I lifted it out of it. He said, I must dance from the center. I must encompass the world. And I understood. And it has been moving. He is my mentor, even today. And moving forward and forward and we were going to Howard's campus. And Tungy was at the Howard Theater. So we went down to be with Tungy. At the ballroom was Nanadini Zulu. He would come with his African dancers, musicians, and singers. So I'm getting this introduction to all of these, you know, this different dance. And that's when Ernestine Ronnie and I decided to form our trio. This had to been about 61.

And we formed our La Delaymo trio because we didn't know what to call ourselves. We wanted to be exotic. So we took the first two letters of our last names and put it together. But this all has an emphasis on African rhythms. Now you're thinking more about African dance in particular. In part because this point, it was more Afro-Afro-Cuban. You know, more Afro-Cuban because of the source and the support rhythms that were coming through with the Kungas and the Ashiko drums. And moving forward in time, we became one of the highest paid trios in the Washington DC area. And we were very popular moving all over the place. On the night of the March on Washington, we were performing as headliners at the Crows Toe, which was a coffee house. And you know, at that time, coffee houses, well, y'all wouldn't know

because you're too young. But, you know, the coffee houses were in Vogue. And we were performing at the Crows Toe. And earlier in the season, we had, you know, Toe Tungi. If you come to the March on Washington, afterwards, please come to see us. Of course, we knew we would be there. He showed up with an entourage. And we danced, I'm gonna tell you, we gave them. Our costumes were cut so low that what they didn't show they pointed at, you see. And we were kicking and everything. And afterwards, instead of, you know, the entourage leaving, Tungi decided to stay because he said he wanted to see us again. And we performed again. And afterwards, he said, if you get to New York in so far as I'm concerned, you have audition. You have a job in my company. His, uh, um, uh,

choreo, assistant choreographer and director of the chore, the choreo, the dancers was Lana Hodges. That was Johnny Hodges' daughter with Duke Ellington. And she encouraged, she, she and Peggy Kurt Patrick and Philip Stamps, God rest their soul, Peggy and Lana are still with us, but Philip has passed on. They encouraged us to come. Ronnie had just met a new partner. He said he wasn't going anywhere. From what I've learned, they are now real estate barons in the DC area. Ernestine was a grade five in the government. She says, no, no, no, no, no. I'm not losing my medical benefits. So that left the Capricorn. I says, okay, I'm going. I can survive on a can of sardines and two, and two boxes of crackers for two days. No problem. I jumped that trailways bus. I hit New York on Monday, Tuesday. We went into rehearsals, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I had to learn

six complete Ola Tungi Ballets. We did it. And on Saturday, I'm standing after making my grand debut Saturday. Uh-huh. I'm in the, I'm over on stage right. Ready to pounce on the stage and every one of those ballets all ran together. Everyone, every combination. I said, oh, I am, I'm just going to die. Of course, they're going to laugh me off the stage. I broke into hives. And I'm standing in and I'm physically, I'm trembling and a very soothing voice. And I'm going around my shoulder and a soothing voice says, oh, young brother, you know, relax. Everything is going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right. And I calm down immediately. The drums started. I heard my cue. I went on stage. I made 90 mistake. Everybody thought

they were wrong because I was grinning all over the place. I was dancing and grinning and having myself a ball. And the man who calmed me down was Malcolm X because Tungi used to, you know, used to open for Malcolm when he was with the food of Islam, the nation of Islam. And we were at the, uh, the armory. And that was my debut into the African dance world. And it went on from there and we performed with Tungi all over the country and into the world's fair. And that was adventure beyond adventure. We were 20 minutes on, 20 minutes on, 20 minutes on, 20 minutes on. And it was a learning experience, Frank, because we had troops coming from the continent. We had troops coming from the continent. Up to that point, we studied with Asadana Defore.

We studied with Nanadine Zulu with Ola Tungi with Solomon Nilori. We had studied with Mama Pearl Prima's. We had studied with Catherine Dunham and and Lucille Ellis. We studied with, um, um, oh, it just goes on. But these are people here. Now people are coming from the continent and the recontextualizing, giving a whole new sense of what, what that is. I want to just for a moment, play some of the music for, from, from Ola Tungi, just to give everybody a sense of what we're hearing now because it was making a scene back in the early 60s. This is something that was new on the scene at least nationally. And I want to hear what you're listening to that's becoming part of your transformation. Dundee O'Dundee, Ola Tungi and his dance group. This is a, tell us about that, about that song and

about that dance. The O'Dundee is a celebration of the New Year, of the New Yem. And the O'Dundee is, is where you pay homage to the earth and where you pay homage to the omnipotent force because Tungi is a Christian, was God rest his soul, a Christian. So many of the, the songs in chance we would learn would be to the earth, but also recognizing the all-merciful creator. And that was done all in white and the movements of the arms, you know, were very liquid like the waves coming in, paying homage to obatella, which is one of the Mauritius from Nigeria and Yemenja, who is mother of the waters. There's something in it for you. You're performing all this. And clearly I can see your eyes light up, you jumped out of your chair to get you back down here so we can finish the conversation. But what happens when these dances, these, these community events that have such importance in their native land are then performed for an audience? It's a,

it's a whole new way to present. Oh, Frank, it's a huge, huge, huge difference. That's why in my teaching I remind everyone that when you are studying dance from another culture, it is not ethnic, what you are learning and studying. It's authentic movements, but not ethnic. It is only ethnic when it is, when it is shared and not performed, when it is shared in the area of origin. Once it goes one foot out of that area, it becomes theater. Because we had to take that whole a dunday festival, which is sometimes two and three weeks with the celebration of the Yams, with the celebration of, you know, like of the different cultures and it depended on the area where you from. But we had to make those dances 20 minutes, 25 minutes, 15 minutes. And then sometimes even seven

minutes, depending on, you know, you know, the venue. So it's, you might do authentic movements and choreography, but it is theater. It is not ethnic unless you are there on the land in the area where that dance origin and at the appropriate time, time of year two. So great artistic and creative growth now for you. What about is your consciousness changing? You're now thinking about things. I mean, these are conscious efforts to reprise and to perform the dance of Africa, the continent. What's happening to you and your, your consciousness and your understanding of who you are? I'm learning. I'm learning everything. Well, we know that every person, Frank, is play every person, is placed on this earth to fulfill a certain niche in ICH. And many people will go through their entire life and never, ever fulfill any of their goals. Mine, thanks B to the almost for

creator, was to be a communicator. And the best way to communicate is through dance because dance has a language that is universal. You can, if you are dancing, you can get by on every, in every area of this planet. You can get by and you can enjoy and you can learn because the first thing you do is you learn to sit at the feet of the elders and you listen and you learn as their words pour into your being. Now, as their words are pointing into your being, then you're able to visualize. You take this vision when you stand up and the elders will correct the movement so that everything is in place. And once you've learned it, it becomes yours and you pay homage to that elder and to the area of place where you've learned. That was happening to me. I was learning. And I was getting involved in dance on every level because I used to walk from 19th street and 8th avenue

to Juliard, which is at 120 seconds. Oh, yeah. And I know you got to make a statement. I've got some stories and you have stories to tell about that. I want to hear about Juliard and I want to talk more about the teacher, Chuck Davis, when our conversation continues on the state of things from North Carolina Public Radio, stay tuned. This is the state of things. I'm Frank station. I guess Chuck Davis founder and choreographer Chuck

Davis is the founder of the Chuck Davis African American Dance Ensemble. But before you did that down in Durham, you were up in New York looking for even more dance lessons. Tell us about that and learning in New York and Juliard. Oh, let me see. There's so many things that happen, you know, all along the way about the same time because when I was dancing with Tungy, Lorna Hodges was the dance in charge of the dancers and dance captain and Lorna was enrolled at Juliard along with John Parks and Dudley Williams and and the list goes on and on and on. So I was running with the dancers and one day they took me by and I sat and I watched, you know, them in class.

And at that time, it's like I said, you know, I had the 30-inch waistline, the long legs. So I put on my tights, I haven't worn any since, I put on my tights, my leotard and I went to class with Lorna. You're sneaking into class actually. I just walked right in, I sat down and it was Mary Hinkson. Mary Hinkson's teaching Mary Hinkson teaching Graham and I learned all of the Graham, you know, positions, each one of those sections. I learned one Graham, two Graham, three, four and five and I would go every morning. In the afternoon, Louis Huis, you know, who is probably, God rest his soul, one was one of the most fantastic minds in this universe. He would, this man could, you know, you heard these statements about someone who can read a phone book and make it come alive.

That was his ability. Only his was sharing of knowledge and he was about students learning about dance, but also learning about life. And I gained so much and they never called the role until this one day when Mary Hinkson had to call the role. I was sitting next to door. Before she could get to the D's, I was gone. But it was, it was the learning experience and I took, you know, what I was learning there. And, you know, and became a part of sharing at the American Dance Festival. I mean, at the world's fair, from the world's fair, I spent time with Elio Pomari, God rest his soul, he's passed on with movements black, learning modern and working and working and just, you know, keeping it going, Jose Le Món, I was there, working and learning his choreography. 19 and it went on the form formation of the Chuck Davis Dance Company in 1967. And then

1972, I went to Carifesta and learned all about traditions from the Caribbean and from the Latin American companies. And that's when the Chuck Davis Dance Company was invited by Charles Reinhardt and then Stephanie Reinhardt to be in residency at the American Dance Festival at Connecticut College. We were there and we shared traditions and then, if your dance company was there and classes were going, we could go in and stand in the back and take classes. And it was Obella Lewiski. Oh, this woman, she had the power to teach. She could make this microphone, stand up, do triple turns and hit the earth and keep right on going. So we were learning the Horton technique. We were learning Graham. We were learning everything. And at the same time,

we were sharing traditions as I had learned at the World's Fair, from dances from Burundi, from Cote d'Ivoire, from South Africa, from Nigeria, all of the, if sincerely on, we had learned all of these dances, the meaning behind the movement. So we were doing authentic and we were teaching and sharing and at no point ever. And still to this day that I reached a level where, oh, oh, that's it. I can stop learning now. No, no, no, no, never ever. To the point that you've gone to Africa too, you were learning all that from companies that came here, but then you decided to go to Africa. There we go in 1977 because I was learning, but I still did not have the African soil between my toes. You see, I didn't have that dust rising when we dance, when you dance on the dusty earth in commemoration of whatever festive, then it comes up in,

that dust becomes a part of your life. 1977 was my very first trip to Africa. Senegal was my port of coal. And I went in. There were dancers there. There were musicians. We stayed at Ingoa Village and it was a fantastic experience. Round trip. Breakfast for seven days. Round trip. Breakfast, dinner, lodgings at this four star resort area only cost $345. Time to change, Chuck. Tell me about it. What was different about it? Did you notice right away? Could you feel a difference on the continent when you were watching dance from what you had learned from troops that had come to the US? Yeah, because when they, as they came in, they were sharing choreography. In once you get out to the village and the community, they're sharing traditions. And that's where we

were able to get into the ethnic, you know, part of my learning because I was able to see it as it was presented with and learning and knowing the role of the elders, knowing the role of the next in line right on down to the youth who once the elders, if the elders were dancing in the center ground, all of the youth would either stand on the side or kneel. We had all this learning that was coming forth and many of the things that we had been taught by Mama Pearl Premus, by Tungin, all of them. They had vocalized it, but now we were able to visualize it because we were right there. We were able to reach out and touch the elders and to sit at their feet and get that dust coming in. And we had the traditional rhythms coming from the source. When you were in Senegal and you were dancing with the wall of, you had your wall of drums. When we went to Ghana

and you were dancing Ghanaian techniques, you have all the different style drums there to produce the sound. Here, okay Frank, I'm going to ask you a question. How does that affect you as a choreographer because you said you don't, you don't reprise, you don't redo what you learned there and that wasn't your intention, but somehow you internalize it and it shows up how, what happens to you as a choreographer after that? Once you learn it, it becomes a part of you. Then that support system, you have to seek it out. So you get rhythms that aren't necessarily authentic, but as close to it as you possibly can. Because as I, you know, we said earlier, there are points where you wish to share, for instance, a naming ceremony that started five o'clock in the morning just before sunrise from, this is from Senegal, when the elders come and as the sun is coming up, the elders are saying all the prayers and they lift the, you know, the child and that's seen from roots where he says,

behold, the only thing greater than yourself and he's showing them to the universe and all that and the festivities go on all day way into the night. We do a naming ceremony now in 20 minutes or 25 minutes. You see, so we had to have the authentic rhythms and not able to have a battery of drums. We have drums that are indigenous to the area which can produce the rhythm patterns that we need to fulfill whatever the choreography and, you know, and the inspiration that comes with it. Well, it seems to me a good example of that collaboration was when you work with the Carolina Chocolate Drops and set some choreography. You did some choreography of bluegrass, brown, earth, and I want to hear a little bit of that and we'll talk about it. Carolina Chocolate Drops Gambia, a collaboration with Chuck Davis, my guest this hour. Tell us about

that. Oh, fabulous. Oh, I'm ready. I'm ready. Okay. You know, once I became aware of them at the end, you know, I became a day-to-day. I was following them everywhere and they were performing. They did the, you know, but they were performing right here at the, oh, to your listening audience. I'm at the tobacco warehouse and there's another second in Durham, North Carolina. There's another section over in the arts district. Yes, we do have an arts district in Durham. Thank you very much and the Carolina Chocolate Drops were performing outside and I was there and afterwards, they were doing a performance at the high school of science and math. I attended a performance and afterwards, doing question and as soon as we were talking, I learned that Rihanna was going

to the Gambia to study. They were having a conference on the accounting. The accounting is the great ancestor of the banjo. So they were there to discover those roots and I jumped up and down because I'm the director of the cultural art safari. Every summer, we go to Africa to have a hands-on experience learning about traditional dance music, cooking. That's why I can't wear no size 30 anymore, right? And there and we, you know, we talked and so forth. So we said we would see each other in the Gambia. Schedules are so tight when we go go until it wasn't until about a week and two and two of our stay there that we found each other. She was studying in Mandanai which is a home of the accounting and I was over in Fajicunda, you know, with the jawlines. But we got together at the hotel in Konu where we were and they were having an outdoor performance

and everything. So we came together and learning more about the traditions of the accounting and that gave support to and the rise through the creativity for bluegrass brown earth because of the banjo and we talked about it and when I returned home, we got together and she helped, she not helped, but she did the music for that section. You just heard, standing on me. That's the music from the accounting. The accounting, that's the rhythm and the chance that she learned, we used it and featured her in bluegrass brown earth. We had clogging, we had step dancing, we had traditional jawline rhythms. All of this at the grand production and finale brought everybody together in that grand or African-American production line.

I was going to say, your company now and you are devoted to teaching, doing workshops, you're in full dress today because I think you've done workshops. Where did you go? You were before you got here. We were at Louisville Middle School, at Liseville Middle School this morning. How important is it to keep these traditions? In a way, you're not keeping traditions, you're teaching traditions to people who have never known this stuff and it's not part of their, not part of their history. Frank, it's vitally important. It's vitally important that I share with you, my heritage, because in sharing with you, my heritage, then you immediately come back with something from your heritage. As we talk and move and so forth, at one point it all comes together. It all comes together. I am quite fortunate. I was in Chicago, directing the dance Africa festival there, and we were showing the African influence on Mexican music and dance,

and then I come home and there's the Del Pueblo festival, and we were invited to come and show what the traditions from Africa. Just this past weekend in Raleigh? Right, yesterday. We did, and there was a fantastic group of young dancers who are here, who are there in Raleigh, but they are maintaining their culture. They were on before us. They did not leave when they were done. They stuck around and we were talking about dance and music, and so much so until I have been invited them to share the stage with us during our annual Kwanza festival. This year, January, the first at the Armory here in Durham. So for the first time, we will be showing the African influence on Mexican dance.

Now, Chuck, I've got a minute left. It's a time going next. I want to ask you about coming back to Durham, coming back to the Raleigh area because you followed ADF back, and then started your African-American dance company right here. What's up in line? Coming out on the American Dance Festival by way of Mom Pinkney at Central, and taking this beautiful energy, and with Mama Jean and Norma, and Goma, and Bradley Simmons, and Ava, who is now the director at Duke's African Dance Division, and Sherome, who is the director of Appalachia, and my niece, Marie, everybody here. And it is a Miss Ray, who was then a Duke made me an offer I couldn't refuse. And I'm here. We have the African-American Dance Ensemble. It's now known around the world, but we want to be known some more. So if you all out there, come on down and invite us in. Yes, Frank, and we listen to you every day.

Bless you, Frank. Bless you, and will you bless us with your farewell? Okay, peace, love, respect for everybody, for the elders, and especially for the earth, and know that all of us are here for a purpose. Find yours because it is about sharing. Give thanks. Chuck Davis, dancer, choreographer, here in Durham, and of course, much, much more, a Rio indeed. Check out African-American Dance Ensemble.org for more information to make them even more famous than they already are. Our website is stateofthings.org. You can follow us on Facebook as well. This is North Carolina Public Radio. Broadcast Service at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I'm Frank Stayshow.