‘Diary of a Tap Dancer’ tells the stories of overlooked performers

WBUR | December 23, 2024

“It’s a man’s world, but I don’t care. I just want to dance,” Ayodele Casel declared to a packed audience at the Loeb Drama Center in Cambridge. She picked up the pace of her tap dancing as she spoke, evoking joyful resistance through the metal plates on her toes.

For generations, women tap dancers — specifically Black women — were ignored and unjustly regarded as less talented than their male counterparts. Casel takes back their stories and her own through narrative, dance and musical production “Diary of a Tap Dancer.”

A cast of seven additional women and nonbinary dancers glide with Casel to illuminate her life story from growing up in The Bronx and Puerto Rico to making her own way as a dancer. Words and tap sounds weave together from soft flaps to bursting emotion.

Casel formed a connection with Harvard as an artist-in-residence in 2018. She returned in 2019 as a fellow at the Radcliffe Institute to research the limited documented histories of women tap dancers. Her studies culminated in a powerful lecture the following year with spoken and tap dance elements, prompting American Repertory Theater to commission what became “Diary of a Tap Dancer.”

With Casel’s all-encompassing admiration for the art form and its legacy, many would assume she started training practically as soon as she could walk. But Casel didn’t attend her first tap class until she was a sophomore at NYU.

She immediately fell in love.

“In my mind, I looked like Ginger Rogers, and I probably did not,” she said, “but in spirit and in enthusiasm, I was like, ‘Yes, this is what, I’m meant to do this.’”

Casel went on to develop the film “Chasing Magic” — with a live performance at A.R.T., create a one-woman show titled “While I Have the Floor” and choreograph the Broadway revival of “Funny Girl.” And she is revered as one of the most respected contemporary tap dancers. But she had to fight for her place as a Black woman dancer, as did many who paved the way for her.

“I made a commitment to myself as soon as I learned about them, that I would bring them into every experience that I have and I have, and it’s been a privilege to do so,” she said.

Many stand out Black female dancers have little to no historical records, said Brian Seibert, author of “What the Eye Hears: A History of Tap Dancing.”

“There have been Black women tap dancers from the beginning, but often they were excluded,” he added. “In the 19th century, they were excluded from performance opportunities almost totally.”

He pointed to Louise Madison who was heralded by her peers in the 1930s and ‘40s but barely documented. Casel made it her mission to bring these artists into her own work, as in “While I Have the Floor.”

Casel invoked the names of talented Black women tap dancers while holding a hand to her heart. She smiled as tears welled in her eyes. “I am sometimes afraid that I will also get lost in that shuffle,” she said.

“Diary of a Tap Dancer” encourages artists to reclaim their own stories and uplift those who may otherwise be forgotten, said Casel.

Torya Beard, the show’s director, explained Casel emphasizes, “They were here, and I’m here, in some ways, standing on their shoulders, and I’m marking my place here, and I’m also extending myself so that other people can stand on my shoulders.”

At the end of the production, Casel invites each cast member to say their name and take their place in history. Photos of the dancers are projected onto the set, just like the photos of past Black women dancers presented earlier in the performance.

Casel was adamant about following your passions no matter the barriers. She said if you can’t find a space for yourself, make one.