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Dance events can be traced throughout Portuguese history but they never constituted a Portuguese dance tradition. So runs the convincing argument of Portuguese dance historian José Sasportes. This observation is further complicated when the history of 20th century Portugal is looked at. Efforts to overcome the highly sporadic nature of theatrical dance in Portugal were promoted by means of state-run institutions. The first to do this was the fascist regime setting up – by decree – a folkloristic ballet group Verde Gaio . The second professional dance company to be founded in the country was that by the Gulbenkian Foundation, following the decline of the Ballet Verde Gaio in the late 60s. And finally, after the 1974 revolution, the National Ballet Company was established by a government decree in 1977. Against this historical background, the extraordinary dance explosion of the mid-80s – still in progress- appears to be rather incongruous. For, despite the lack of any tradition outside any institutional or governmental framework, a very lively, creative and professional independent dance scene emerged. Within less than a decade, Portugal had established a dance body, which generated unique imaginative forces. The work of succesful choreographers of the late 80s (among them Vera Mantero, Clara Andermatt, Paulo Ribeiro, João Fiadeiro and Francisco Camacho) are staged on a wider circuit outside Portugal. But, by the late 90s, much has changed on the Portuguese cultural scene and, in particular, the dance scene.

In 1993, two important venues opened their doors in Lisbon: Culturgest, a cultural subsidiary of the national bank Caixa Geral de Depósitos, and Centro Cultural de Belém, a state-run institution. With António Pinto Ribeiro as programme head at Culturgest, it quickly became a point of reference for the Lisbon dance audience. After initial catastrophic mismanagement, and under new artistic and administrative direction, the Belém Cultural Centre has caught up in the past few years as regards its programmes and commissioning of innovative Portuguese dance scene and theatre. Changes in Portuguese dance in the second half of this decade reflect political changes in the country. A Socialist government was elected into office in 1995, and a ministry of culture created at last. This led to a coherent dance policy finally being drafted and enforced. For the first time in Portugal’s history, independent choreographers, dance performers and festival organisers received state subsidies. Grassroot organisations and events, such as the Lisbon-based Festival Danças na Cidade and Forum Dança today form a significant part of the national dance scene. Outside Lisbon, new dance organisations too are pursuing their educational and artistic activities. The times – and the corresponding policies – have changed, with a new generation of choreographers and dancers emerging. There is enormous diversity and creativity abounds.

Once again, it is the same political context which is responsible for how these companies manifest themselves on the dance scene: the increase in government support and the number of venues available for wide–spread performances. Finally, as the readers will gather from the articles in this issue, there is a binding factor behind most of the choreographers: the Gulbenkian Ballet . Although performing artists rejected the company’s aesthetic approach, it nevertheless was the birthplace of many career in dancing and choreography during the office of Jorge Salavisa in the mid and late 80s. To conclude, I simply have to state the obvious. This issue on Portuguese dance is by no means an encyclopedia of contemporary dance in Portugal. Instead, there is a hidden agenda lurking in the editorial choice – to provoke a debate within the Portuguese dance community on the conditions under which this energetic yet fragile dance scene will be able to carry on. We are clearly heading for a schism dividing large companies and independent projects. Such an impending divide raises a number of questions. Are state policies on culture always condemned to reward costly, repertoire-oriented projects? What has been produced to date in this country “without any dance tradition” as a result of such economic and aesthetic approaches? And what are the consequences of these policies for the Portuguese dance scene, considering that, for the first time in history, it boasts all the preconditions for creating an innovative tradition?