Bailadores de Bronce Celebrate Their Golden Year

They might call themselves the "bronze dancers" in Spanish, but this year, Washington's oldest Mexican folkloric ballet is gold.

by Agueda Pacheco Flores

For the past couple of months, three times a week, 35 dancers have been meeting up. They practice in the far reaches of the South End at the Sea Mar Museum of Chicano/a/Latino/a Culture and their new Burien studio. On weekdays, when people are getting home from work and winding down, the dancers are just getting started.

While Hispanic Heritage Month is one of their busier months, the Bailadores stay busy all year. They perform 20 to 30 times per year, dancing at public and private events. Because of the pandemic, the troupe was not able to celebrate their golden anniversary in 2022, but that's not stopping them. This year, the Bailadores de Bronce will take to the Moore Theatre on Oct. 25. It's a big deal, and not just because it's their 50th anniversary.

Originally founded in 1972, Bailadores de Bronce began as a student dance group at the University of Washington. Since then, the reins have been handed down from teacher to students, keeping the nonprofit running strong thanks to incoming generations. The continued quality of their performances, from a high level of skill, showmanship, and professionalism, shows. Each one of the group's past annual shows since, their 35th and 40th respectfully, drew large crowds to Meany Center for the Performing Arts.

"This is the first time we're performing [at the Moore] and people are coming just for us," explains Daniela Garcia, a 21-year-old performer and student.

At a recent rehearsal, Christina Olivas watched carefully as the dance partners spiraled and stepped around each other, the girls bending to the side and opening their arms, revealing swirls of color from their dance skirts. She stops the music to adjust dancers.

"You really want to bend," she says to one.

Olivas retired from dancing and performing six years ago, but she continues to teach as the head instructor. She has been involved with Bailadores since 1998, and her daughter now dances in the group. To her, being part of this group is a lifestyle and a labor of love.

"It's a full-time job I do for free," she jokes.

In fact, the performers are like family. Olivas met her husband, now-director Adrian Olivas, as a dancer. Many performers are second- and third-generation dancers, with moms, uncles, and older siblings having danced in the group in the past. Christina and Adrian Olivas often host dancers at their house for dinners, offer to carpool for practice, and students jokingly call Christina "dance mom" and Adrian "step dad."

"They're my second set of kids," Christina Olivas says.

The dance troupe offers a sense of community, cultural bonding, and belonging among dancers like Julia Kennedy, 16, who grew up in Bellevue.

"There weren't a lot of Mexicans or Latinos around me," she says. "Thanks to this, I get to see another side of my culture, and a lot of my best friends are in the group."

This is something multiple leaders within Bailadores point to as a reason the group has remained so strong — strong enough to rival California's longest-running folklrico group, Danza Floricanto, which was founded in 1975. Unlike other regions, where Latinos and Mexican American communities are a larger demographic and thus folkloric groups are more abundant, Washington's Latino community felt disparate and disconnected with limited community groups and offerings. Therefore, Bailadores de Bronce became a unique home for young Mexican Americans, a place to be proud and celebrate their roots.

As the date of the Moore performance approaches, Christina Olivas says she is feeling a range of emotions: stress, excitement, nervousness.

"It's a lot of work. I go to bed and start thinking of everything I need to write down: fix costumes, watch rehearsal videos, note changes," she says.

During practice, dancers glide between each other, tapping their feet in what's known as "zapateado" steps.

Mexico's folkloric ballet is a collection of regional dances performed across the 32 states of the republic. The ballet was pioneered by Mexico City native Amalia Hernndez Navarro in the '50s. At the time, her group started learning and practicing all the dances that can be found across Mexico. Today, the Ballet Folklrico de Mxico troupe is a world premier dance group.

Luna Garcia, a dancer and co-director for Joyas Mestizas, a child folklrico group started by Bailadores de Bronce parents in 1988, says the world of folklrico dance, like any art form, has its debates and controversies around what's considered traditional and authentically folklrico.

"It depends on who you ask, their philosophy," she says. "Some say once it's on stage, it's no longer traditional, since it has to be danced in the pueblo."

Most dances depict things that are typical to the state where it comes from, including daily life, animal life, and local folklore (hence its name). The choreography, outfits, and music are heavily influenced by regional Indigenous cultures. For the Jarana, in the Yucatan dance, for example, women often balance a basket or tray of drinks on their head, a custom that was passed down from the large entertainment fiestas ranch owners hosted to mark the beginning of cattle branding.

"My favorite is about a prince who turns into a jabal [wild hog] and he's messing with the girls, and two men with machetes are fighting over them, and after the jabal dies, the girls mourn," says Mikaela Cavazos, 16.

Cavazos is one of many girls who began dancing as a toddler and will perform on Oct. 25. Like other girls in the group, she hopes she can teach and dance folklrico professionally.

Jahayra Ruiz Perez, 18, also hopes she can dance professionally, but she says she worries it won't pay well. She's currently a student at Pacific Lutheran University and works at Red Robin. She lives in Federal Way, studies in Tacoma, and practices in the South End. Despite the busy schedule, she refuses to miss even one practice. Ever since she was deprived of practice during COVID-19 lockdown, she says she realized "how much of an impact" the group had on her life.

"Something just happened and I decided I was going to try as hard as I can," she says.

She points to how much she's grown as a dancer this past year, admitting that the style is physically challenging to make it look so elegant.

Director Adrian Olivas says the troupe tries to bring premier folklrico dancers to do workshops with students. A couple of years ago, they flew Jaime Guerrero Hernandez, who helped define the state of Nuevo Leon's folklrico dance, to teach the students that regional dance. It's one of the dances the group will perform at the Moore later this month.

Eventually, Adrian Olivas says he'd like to send students to Mexico to learn from dancers there as well. "To see young dancers grow, it's really rewarding."

📸 Featured Image: Dancers practice the Nuevo Len folkloric dance in preparation for their show at the Moore Theatre on Oct. 25. (Photo: Agueda Pacheco Flores)