Editor’s note: This is part of The Know’s series, Staff Favorites. Each week, we give our opinions on the best that Colorado has to offer for dining, shopping, entertainment, outdoor activities and more. (We’ll also let you in on some hidden gems.)
A communal circle started the class. Women checked in with each other as their names and thoughts for the day circulated counterclockwise. They were seated on the floor and actively listening while surrounded by plants, bright colors and art.
Inside the in Denver’s Five Points neighborhood on a Sunday morning in March, just under a dozen participants took part in a free dance class. Instructor led a beginner-friendly samba routine that included arm movements, swaying hips and traveling steps.
I started taking classes at Moyo about six months ago after seeing one of my fellow dancer friends post about them on Instagram. My dance background runs deep: I started in middle school with jazz and ballet, added tap in high school, studied and taught African dance in early adulthood and have explored Middle Eastern forms for nearly two decades.
in Glendale has been my dance home for five years, and I love the chance to perform on stage and in the community.
One constant that had been missing in my dance journey was an environment where dance was outside the classical gaze: absent of straight arms, pointed toes, mirrors everywhere and pricey classes. That was what I found at Moyo with Jules’ classes. There was no pressure to have (or achieve) a classical dancer’s figure, and no pressure to perform.
The students were on their own path, with some who had never taken a dance class at all, while others were adding more styles to their dance card. I had been interested in samba for several years, but my schedule was barely clear for it. Also, it felt intimidating. Moving my feet in 4-inch heels at 115 beats per minute seemed unapproachable.
Jules emphasized samba’s roots as we danced barefoot or in sneakers. The steps reached about 85 beats per minute, a slower speed than what you may see performed live. The movement recalled samba’s Afro-Brazilian roots as a form of community and religious practices. It’s part of Jules’ mission to de-colonize dance by stripping away the Western practices that have been added to cultural dances like samba, hip-hop and belly dance.
She dives deeper into this philosophy with a podcast and upcoming performance in late May focusing on how dance is a form of self-healing and a celebration of heritage. Dancers shared their stories about how they arrived at this art form and their attachment to movement.
Sunday classes alternate between samba and belly dance. While I had no samba experience before joining Moyo, I was a longtime belly dancer. I could get back to learning the basics and being carefree. I saw new dancers get lost in the movements, surrendering to what made me love this dance form many years ago. That’s a transformation that never gets too old to watch.
The space at Moyo was mellow, with a tea station featuring multiple blends, and sometimes classes end with cupcakes from . Some of the best conversations I’ve had surrounding dance have arisen over tea and sweets here.
The free dance classes are part of Moyo’s Each One Teach One, a series of community arts programs that include martial arts, crafting, children’s programs, DJing and more. Funding comes from the Colorado Health Foundation, Black Resilience in Colorado, Denver Arts and Venues and The Eulipions Fund, among others. Bathsheba Walker, who has been with Moyo Center since 1992, described the center’s mission as a means to “leverage cultural arts and technology to create experiences where people discover hidden strengths, find purpose and deepen connections with others.”
These classes are my weekend reset. The discussions and movements I absorb from them rewire my brain and remind me why I keep returning to dance.
Free walk-in samba and belly dance classes are offered from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Sundays at Moyo Nguvu Cultural Arts Center, 617 22nd St., in Denver’s Five Points.
