By Panni De Cheke Qualls |

Sports on TV is cool and all, but when you see a bunch of men doing a Hungarian legényes, or verbunk it’s hard to pay attention to anything else. These dances are often the first hook for young men to get into folk dancing. Toronto-native and 15-year dance veteran Tamás Gáspár knows this only too well. Despite his own somewhat uncertain folk dance start, he’s been feeding this very interest in the next generation of young men.

When Tamás Gáspár was about 10 years old, he was forced to go to Hungarian folk dancing. In his eyes (and he was alone in this sentiment) dance was not for boys, and he threw a fit. The stairwell of the Hungarian school before the first class, was the scene for his vehement protest. And it all could have ended right there, if it hadn’t been for Ildikó Faragó-Thököly, Beatrix Magyar Nagy and that summer’s Cifra Tábor.

“One of the first dances we did was a Botoló which was challenging and fun, and got me to actually think folk dancing was cool. When I found out a friend of mine from Hungarian school was going to Cifra that summer I decided to join him. We had a really good time with other Hungarians in the dynamic environment of a folk dance camp. The friends we made were all joining Toronto’s dance group so we joined their regular practice, as well,” recalls Gáspár.

Over time, folk dancing became much more than just going to rehearsals and the occasional táncház. Gáspár’s Hungarian folk community provided important connections and support systems during his formative years. He looked to Andrew Komáromy and Ilona Vaszi as mentors and credits them for guiding him toward a career in education.

“In my teenage years and throughout university I really started to feel quite isolated and detached from my future. As many young people I’m sure can relate, I did not know exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I really did not feel like I was particularly skilled enough to do anything yet, and it kind of left me paralyzed with fear to try anything. The [Toronto] dance ensemble really became a shelter for me. I knew that if I just showed up to practice and helped out with the events I would be valued and appreciated, and would actually be doing some good in the world. It was so concrete and tangible,” says Gáspár. “So I feel like this community really saved me from going to a really dark place, and I’m eternally grateful for that.”

Throughout the years, Gáspár danced in Toronto’s Kodály Ensemble, Hamilton’s Rozmaring Ensemble, Kitchener’s Kossuth Ensemble, and once as a guest artist with Edmonton’s Csárdás Ensemble. With every performance and rehearsal, Gáspár honed his skills as a folk dance teacher – learning from North American legends Gábor Dobi, Marika Jacsó and Patricia Vörös.

At a 2022 táncház, a group of boys approached Gáspár about the Kalotaszegi legényes. Gáspár learned the dance as an adult, and was surprised the young men wanted to take this on. But he knew that, through this dance, he could continue to inspire their folklife interests.

“So for a year, I started teaching them for an hour on a voluntary basis before their regular weeknight practices,” remembers Gáspár. “They moved through the material pretty quickly mostly because they all had a strong desire to learn. They were not just forced to be at practice. I also saw that there was a hunger for the kind of intensive teaching that you (due to varied abilities) might not be able to have at a regular practice.”

This past fall and after a year-long break, this same group reconstituted. Armed with more folk dance pedagogy, techniques and his elementary education background, Gáspár approached the three-hour weekly sessions as a professional.

“I would basically always just start with a good warm up, with some more modern Hungarian music or even popular English head-bobbers, à la Erika Hild. Then I would start breaking down some of the steps, practicing those sequences off and on with music. Then putting the steps into combinations, and focusing on the transitions – also bringing in any songs that need to be learned as a break between the dancing,” says Gáspár. “Once they knew the steps well enough, I would let them improvise for the last 15 minutes of practice.”

“It is also important for me not to talk too much. I think the biggest mistake dance teachers make is talking too much. Most people just need to practice the steps, and have time in between practice for their unconscious to sort things out. Talking and explaining all the nuances of folk dance can be cool, but it can also bore the heck out of people and turn them off the dance,” says Gáspár.

And that is some sage advice. Gáspár has indeed evolved into a true dance teacher – passing his knowledge down to others. Gáspár’s journey is testament to Toronto’s successful Hungarian folk dance program and the “if we build it they will come” approach to sustaining folklife activities in the North American diaspora.

“Folk dance is really a part of my life. I also love that it’s social and a great way to meet new people. It’s a great way to get a full body workout with a focus on balance and cardio. It’s also an awesome way to practice the language for a second generation Hungarian like me,” says Gáspár.