Last weekend I went to see the Broadway musical Fela! The performance was an amazing celebration of dance as an expression of so many varied facets of life and a historical narrative about the life of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti. I came back from the musical with many curiosities. While most were historical about the life of Fela and world historical events mentioned in the musical, I also came back with a larger philosophical question about dance and activism. What is the relationship between dance and activism?
A quick search of the word "activism" at www.dictionary.com results in the following definitions:
1) the doctrine or practice of vigorous action or involvement as a means of achieving political or other goals, sometimes by demonstrations, protests, etc. 2) a theory that the essence of reality is pure activity, esp. spiritual activity, or process 3) a theory that the relationship between the mind and the objects of perception depends upon the action of the mind
The first two definitions really resonate with my dancing, moving body. Activism's root being "active" really speaks to exactly what dance provides for the dancer. Dance can even be seen as a form or practice of "pure activity" in line with the definition of activism. As a dancer I feel the truth in that from an experiential place. I feel the closest to this particular idea is the field of movement therapy or some forms of somatic practice where people use their own personal movement style and individuality or specific somatic techniques to better understand themselves as a whole person, strengths, weakness, and all.
My issue with that is whether this personal process of developing movement should be presented as a performance for general audiences. For the audience members, those not actively or physically participating, I question the validity of dance as a form of activism.
For me it was very apparent in the audience participation scripted into the musical. I've seen it before. Asking people to get up and act can be like pulling teeth. People are so often no longer experiencing their lives from a fully embodied place. I find general populations are far more comfortable talking and thinking than they are moving their bodies in an expressive way or moving their bodies in a way that will fulfill what they dream about or are truly passionate about. Are we as dancers still activists if we don't require a physical experience for our audience members? And if not a physical experience then must there be at least some clear, coherent, choreographed concept that may have blossomed or presented itself in our physical soul searching if we are to call our work a form of activism for our audiences?
Now I have to admit. I have my own personal value system and background when it comes to discussing the role of dance as activism within society. The connection for me between activism and dance is an intimate one. It is no coincidence for me that "movement" is a term we use to describe the format through which activists convey their message (ex. political movement.) But in terms of my personal bias, I don't often find dance for dance's sake an activist event for audiences. I gravitate toward making dances that examine some quality, phenomena, or oddity of the human experience or our current society/culture. I avoid making work that is solely about the movement itself. In the play Kevin Mambo (playing Fela) explains Fela's journey from wanting to make good music that can really move the audience to wanting to make good music that not only moves the audience but also expresses the sociopolitical dilemma's of Africa at the time.
I have heard dance professors suggest that dancers not choreograph unless they have something to "say" with that work. And I have to admit I can feel a bit annoyed when I attend a dance performance where dancers are truly enjoying performing the movement but not at all conveying some coherent concept that really speaks to a specific phenomena occurring within human experience. While I am well aware of my own proclivities, I certainly do not hold others to my own value system and am curious to hear thoughts from others or any arguments that support dance for dance's sake as an activist event for audience members.
Showing posts with label dance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dance. Show all posts
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Bump and Grind: Dances of the Youth
"Fear and restraint of buttocks power, especially the dancing buttocks is a fundamental component in Christianity's dialectic on the corporeal capacity for sin. In an essentialist fashion the early church differentiated itself from 'pagan' practice by its radical stance regarding the (dancing) body." - Brenda Dixon Gottschild
"Perhaps in common with many other women, my butt memories take me into the larger cultural arena where women are ogled, commodified, and categorized according to degree and volume of 'tits and ass.' How can I explain, or explain away, that backward but primal female desire to attract that, scurrilous though it may seem from a position of critical distance, at a certain tender adolescent age seems to celebrate and affirm one's entry into the mysteries of womanhood? It is a craving to be included in the culture's contexted narrative of femininity. . . ." - Brenda Dixon Gottschild
As a recent chaperon of a dance held for teenagers, I realized I'm officially old. But in addition to any personal nostalgia and realizations, there has been debate and discussion about the "quality" of the dancing with teenagers. Various adults find the dancing offensive and inappropriate for teens. My first reaction is: "Well I was that kid that had to be pulled apart at dances and at that point had yet to even have a first kiss." It has never made sense the presumption that risque dancing is a "gateway drug" to more inappropriate sexual behavior. It certainly wasn't true for me. My experience was that those few hours of risque behavior were in a way carnivalesque. Dances allowed me to express and release the first feelings and urges of sexuality. These dances allowed me to explore, in a safe space, urges that I had little to no experience acting out. It gave me a moment to purge pent up sexual energy and explore the burgeoning womanhood into which I was blossoming. These dances were moments wherein I could express a side of myself that was inappropriate to express at every other setting in my life. It also gave me a power of a fuller knowledge of self and voice in terms of how I chose to dance and with whom I chose to dance. For me, my upbringing as a southern belle dictated that I did not speak unless spoken to. I did not assert myself too forcefully but instead acted with grace and decorum. Until these moments of powerful expression at social teen dances, I had not experienced the courage and power to either accept, reject, or influence the interest of males. It was deemed inappropriate no matter what my hormones were telling me at that age.
But that was my own personal experience. I would not expect or demand that my experience be the rule. So beyond my personal experience, I had curiosities about how to talk about this phenomena of adults objecting to and feeling uncomfortable about the dances of young teens. My first thought is that the phenomena is part of some sort of cultural cosmic order in which teens push the limits and adults establish where that limit should be. Is this sort of issue a sort of social yin and yang in which adults and teens keep each other in some sort of balance by pushing against each other? By objecting do adults simply make the actions more appealing to youth? Where is an appropriate boundary and how do you articulate or define that boundary for kids? Are children challenging us as adults to define and articulate our own sexual boundaries to then expect them to abide by the same?
In asking myself why I found this particular topic so fascinating, I realized that it was part of my research interests around dance, religion, and society. Much of what I hear as the issue of concern from adults is that teens are expressing publicly with their bodies ideas, urges, and curiosities around their bodies as sexual objects. But what I think is important to understand is that our ideas about sex and ways of expressing one's sexuality are culturally relative. Each individual's way of expressing themselves with their bodies (sexually or otherwise) is dependent one's culture, personal experiences, personal preferences, and family upbringing. I think there are some adults that are under the assumption that their expectations of propriety and how one expresses themselves are static, clear, and universal. I think some may be unaware that even one's expectations of how one expresses their body differs from household to household, from culture to culture, from country to country. The expectation of appropriate dance may vary from a conservative Muslim Moroccan-American household, to a catholic Latin-American household, to a Protestant French-American household.
What I find valuable about this dialogue on teen dance is the potential to learn about various points of view, various thoughts in terms of the causes and effects of risque teen dance, and various connections to each individual's personal values around dance, the body, and sexuality. In this discussion what I think is most important is to realize that each person's value and expectation is culturally specific and not necessarily the belief of others. So should we tell teens to avoid provocative dancing as a way to avoid unwarranted advances, or should we tell teens to practice taking ownership and responsibility for their corporeal voice, values, and expression? I don't know. But I find the discussion to be a valuable one.
"Perhaps in common with many other women, my butt memories take me into the larger cultural arena where women are ogled, commodified, and categorized according to degree and volume of 'tits and ass.' How can I explain, or explain away, that backward but primal female desire to attract that, scurrilous though it may seem from a position of critical distance, at a certain tender adolescent age seems to celebrate and affirm one's entry into the mysteries of womanhood? It is a craving to be included in the culture's contexted narrative of femininity. . . ." - Brenda Dixon Gottschild
As a recent chaperon of a dance held for teenagers, I realized I'm officially old. But in addition to any personal nostalgia and realizations, there has been debate and discussion about the "quality" of the dancing with teenagers. Various adults find the dancing offensive and inappropriate for teens. My first reaction is: "Well I was that kid that had to be pulled apart at dances and at that point had yet to even have a first kiss." It has never made sense the presumption that risque dancing is a "gateway drug" to more inappropriate sexual behavior. It certainly wasn't true for me. My experience was that those few hours of risque behavior were in a way carnivalesque. Dances allowed me to express and release the first feelings and urges of sexuality. These dances allowed me to explore, in a safe space, urges that I had little to no experience acting out. It gave me a moment to purge pent up sexual energy and explore the burgeoning womanhood into which I was blossoming. These dances were moments wherein I could express a side of myself that was inappropriate to express at every other setting in my life. It also gave me a power of a fuller knowledge of self and voice in terms of how I chose to dance and with whom I chose to dance. For me, my upbringing as a southern belle dictated that I did not speak unless spoken to. I did not assert myself too forcefully but instead acted with grace and decorum. Until these moments of powerful expression at social teen dances, I had not experienced the courage and power to either accept, reject, or influence the interest of males. It was deemed inappropriate no matter what my hormones were telling me at that age.
But that was my own personal experience. I would not expect or demand that my experience be the rule. So beyond my personal experience, I had curiosities about how to talk about this phenomena of adults objecting to and feeling uncomfortable about the dances of young teens. My first thought is that the phenomena is part of some sort of cultural cosmic order in which teens push the limits and adults establish where that limit should be. Is this sort of issue a sort of social yin and yang in which adults and teens keep each other in some sort of balance by pushing against each other? By objecting do adults simply make the actions more appealing to youth? Where is an appropriate boundary and how do you articulate or define that boundary for kids? Are children challenging us as adults to define and articulate our own sexual boundaries to then expect them to abide by the same?
In asking myself why I found this particular topic so fascinating, I realized that it was part of my research interests around dance, religion, and society. Much of what I hear as the issue of concern from adults is that teens are expressing publicly with their bodies ideas, urges, and curiosities around their bodies as sexual objects. But what I think is important to understand is that our ideas about sex and ways of expressing one's sexuality are culturally relative. Each individual's way of expressing themselves with their bodies (sexually or otherwise) is dependent one's culture, personal experiences, personal preferences, and family upbringing. I think there are some adults that are under the assumption that their expectations of propriety and how one expresses themselves are static, clear, and universal. I think some may be unaware that even one's expectations of how one expresses their body differs from household to household, from culture to culture, from country to country. The expectation of appropriate dance may vary from a conservative Muslim Moroccan-American household, to a catholic Latin-American household, to a Protestant French-American household.
What I find valuable about this dialogue on teen dance is the potential to learn about various points of view, various thoughts in terms of the causes and effects of risque teen dance, and various connections to each individual's personal values around dance, the body, and sexuality. In this discussion what I think is most important is to realize that each person's value and expectation is culturally specific and not necessarily the belief of others. So should we tell teens to avoid provocative dancing as a way to avoid unwarranted advances, or should we tell teens to practice taking ownership and responsibility for their corporeal voice, values, and expression? I don't know. But I find the discussion to be a valuable one.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
CLMA & Cesar Millan: I See Moving People
For years I have watched The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Millan on the National Geographic Channel. I never really could articulate why the show was so fascinating and enjoyable to watch, especially since I don't own nor have I ever owned a dog or even a cat for that matter. His way of observing, listening, and problem-solving in a fully physical way for both dogs and their owners was such a fulfilling process to watch.
Then half-way through my Laban/Bartenieff Movement Studies program, I realized what it was that attracted me to this show. With the intensive submersion into all things movement in the Utah Summer program structure of the program I was attending, I began to feel a bit like the famed character in The Sixth Sense, only instead of seeing dead people I was seeing moving people everywhere. With language to now understand the nuance and patterns of human movement I began to see interesting examples of ways people move, ways people talk about moving, and ways people approach or value movement. For me Cesar Millan's process of rehabilitation very much resonates for me with the type of work we do in the Laban/Bartenieff Movement Analyst certification program. So for those who find what CLMA's do so enigmatic, I offer up The Dog Whisperer as a similar example of what we do, only he does it with both dogs and people. Sound a bit wild? Well let me explain.
The language Cesar uses to explain or demonstrate in his process may be different, but the process is a kindred cousin to what CLMA's do with people. Cesar understands that movement is meaningful, that movement communicates emotions, relationships, values, and past history.
When Cesar is speaking about "energy" I argue he is speaking about what we call in the Laban world Effort. He is speaking about the dog or person's inner intent being manifested in their physical display of movement or posture. What the body is doing, how it forms itself into and out of various stances, and how bodies relate to and within their environment are all part of what Cesar looks for in his observation process. Cesar watches for markers in the dogs' movements and posture that express the dogs' inner intentions. He also does the same as owners begin to apply his methods in working with their dogs.
As with CLMA's he is intuitive, succinct, and clear about pointing out and describing what he is seeing in both man and dog that leads him to the conclusions he reaches. He is able to communicate what he is seeing in a way that his clients are able to understand the details he is seeing in the movement. His way of communicating his observation not only helps others understand what he is seeing but also helps them look for the same type of expressive markers in the future. He brings awareness to his clients about how to see expression in movement, how to analyze movement to glean meaning from it. Again this is what CLMA's can do for their clients.
Also like CLMA's he is able to sit down and really listen not only to the issues that people are having with their pets, but also listen to how they are talking about those issues. He understands that there is just as much to learn about what language people use in speaking about an issue as there is to learn in understanding what the actual issue is. The same happens in sessions with CLMA's. We listen to the issues that are going on with each client (ex. I have an old injury. /Somehow I give off the wrong message about myself in social settings. / I need help with learning how to do a better job at speaking in public. / My back hurts when I. . . etc.) But we also listen to how that client perceives or understands the issue within their personal system of beliefs and values.
And finally, like CLMA's, Cesar moves into action orchestrating a strategy or plan of action that greatly values physical action and awareness of movement. He is consistent in his philosophy during the process of devising strategies and yet improvisational and creative remaining open to whatever potential learning opportunities come up in the moment. Again the process of working with a CLMA is very much the same. We provide physical exercises, guidance on how those exercises are done, and still remain open to any improvisational openings in the process.
While Cesar works with the relationships people have with their dogs, we CLMA's work with the relationships we have to our bodies, others, and our environment. Cesar works within the world of how to be more clear in how we express ourselves to our pets, while CLMA's work on how to become more efficient and functional as well as more clear in our expression. I now understand my affinity for The Dog Whisperer and why so many of his lessons become a larger metaphor for life lessons. The same happens in my work as a performer, choreographer, educator, and now movement analyst.
Whew! I'm glad I sorted that out. I almost thought I needed to get a dog.
Then half-way through my Laban/Bartenieff Movement Studies program, I realized what it was that attracted me to this show. With the intensive submersion into all things movement in the Utah Summer program structure of the program I was attending, I began to feel a bit like the famed character in The Sixth Sense, only instead of seeing dead people I was seeing moving people everywhere. With language to now understand the nuance and patterns of human movement I began to see interesting examples of ways people move, ways people talk about moving, and ways people approach or value movement. For me Cesar Millan's process of rehabilitation very much resonates for me with the type of work we do in the Laban/Bartenieff Movement Analyst certification program. So for those who find what CLMA's do so enigmatic, I offer up The Dog Whisperer as a similar example of what we do, only he does it with both dogs and people. Sound a bit wild? Well let me explain.
The language Cesar uses to explain or demonstrate in his process may be different, but the process is a kindred cousin to what CLMA's do with people. Cesar understands that movement is meaningful, that movement communicates emotions, relationships, values, and past history.
When Cesar is speaking about "energy" I argue he is speaking about what we call in the Laban world Effort. He is speaking about the dog or person's inner intent being manifested in their physical display of movement or posture. What the body is doing, how it forms itself into and out of various stances, and how bodies relate to and within their environment are all part of what Cesar looks for in his observation process. Cesar watches for markers in the dogs' movements and posture that express the dogs' inner intentions. He also does the same as owners begin to apply his methods in working with their dogs.
As with CLMA's he is intuitive, succinct, and clear about pointing out and describing what he is seeing in both man and dog that leads him to the conclusions he reaches. He is able to communicate what he is seeing in a way that his clients are able to understand the details he is seeing in the movement. His way of communicating his observation not only helps others understand what he is seeing but also helps them look for the same type of expressive markers in the future. He brings awareness to his clients about how to see expression in movement, how to analyze movement to glean meaning from it. Again this is what CLMA's can do for their clients.
Also like CLMA's he is able to sit down and really listen not only to the issues that people are having with their pets, but also listen to how they are talking about those issues. He understands that there is just as much to learn about what language people use in speaking about an issue as there is to learn in understanding what the actual issue is. The same happens in sessions with CLMA's. We listen to the issues that are going on with each client (ex. I have an old injury. /Somehow I give off the wrong message about myself in social settings. / I need help with learning how to do a better job at speaking in public. / My back hurts when I. . . etc.) But we also listen to how that client perceives or understands the issue within their personal system of beliefs and values.
And finally, like CLMA's, Cesar moves into action orchestrating a strategy or plan of action that greatly values physical action and awareness of movement. He is consistent in his philosophy during the process of devising strategies and yet improvisational and creative remaining open to whatever potential learning opportunities come up in the moment. Again the process of working with a CLMA is very much the same. We provide physical exercises, guidance on how those exercises are done, and still remain open to any improvisational openings in the process.
While Cesar works with the relationships people have with their dogs, we CLMA's work with the relationships we have to our bodies, others, and our environment. Cesar works within the world of how to be more clear in how we express ourselves to our pets, while CLMA's work on how to become more efficient and functional as well as more clear in our expression. I now understand my affinity for The Dog Whisperer and why so many of his lessons become a larger metaphor for life lessons. The same happens in my work as a performer, choreographer, educator, and now movement analyst.
Whew! I'm glad I sorted that out. I almost thought I needed to get a dog.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Big and Small: Impacts of Laban Movement Analysis
This past week marked my certification as a Certified Laban/Bartenieff Movement Analyst. This occasion marked just over a year’s worth of hard work. As candidates we had to pass a Written Evaluation, a Movement Evaluation, and a 30 minute presentation. This program has impacted my life in so many ways—big and small. I decided to post one of my answers on the Written Evaluation here to show one of the small (and yet huge) ways this program has influenced me.
____________________________
For the past several days, I’ve been in our office taking my written evaluation for the Integrated Movement Studies (IMS) program. To the left caddy corner to my desk is a fish bowl in which my boyfriend’s Betta fish lives. Or maybe I should say MY Betta fish. I’ve been caring for this fish even before I moved in here. When I first met Mr. Fish, as I call him, he was barely alive. He laid down at the bottom of his bowl barely moving. When I realized Mr. Fish had not been fed very often, I took up the task. At first, Mr. Fish could barely make it from the bottom of the bowl to the top of the water to reach the food. If he missed one of the little pellets on his first desperate attempt, he would have to rest for a good five minutes before trying again. Slowly, I’ve been nursing him back to health—mostly just by feeding him on a regular basis (who knew right?) and now more often than not, he’s actually swimming around his bowl.
However, now that he’s more active, my cat Shashka has taken a greater interest in him. Most of the time, she just likes to lay on the desk and watch him. And, oddly enough, the fish loves her. He swims joyously around his bowl and looks at her when she jumps up. Every once in awhile, she decides that sticking her face into the top of the fish bowl would give her a better view. I don’t want her doing this because I fear it could lead to her “playing” with the Mr. Fish and killing him. And I’ve grown attached to Mr. Fish. So, every time she puts her nose into the bowl, I snap my fingers at her, with Quickness to get her attention, Directness to intimate that I am indeed intending the motion to her, and Strength, as if to say, “No!”
(For those of you not familiar with Strength, Quickness, and Directness, they are all considered Effort Factors in the Laban system. Effort refers to the attitude of the mover toward their intention to move. The Weight Effort Factor (Strength is one) is the “me-ness” in the intention to move. It’s how much of themselves a mover takes into the action. Often Strong Weight is seen as the amount of confidence or power a person has at a given moment in time. Space Factor (Directness is one) is the mover's attention to the space or environment. Direct Space Effort is focusing very specifically on one focal point. In this case my Direct focus was on my cat specifically. Quickness is a Time Effort Factor which refers to the mover's intention to act in the moment “now.” When someone responds with Quickness, there is a sense of immediacy in their actions.)
(For those of you not familiar with Strength, Quickness, and Directness, they are all considered Effort Factors in the Laban system. Effort refers to the attitude of the mover toward their intention to move. The Weight Effort Factor (Strength is one) is the “me-ness” in the intention to move. It’s how much of themselves a mover takes into the action. Often Strong Weight is seen as the amount of confidence or power a person has at a given moment in time. Space Factor (Directness is one) is the mover's attention to the space or environment. Direct Space Effort is focusing very specifically on one focal point. In this case my Direct focus was on my cat specifically. Quickness is a Time Effort Factor which refers to the mover's intention to act in the moment “now.” When someone responds with Quickness, there is a sense of immediacy in their actions.)
When I notice her, placing her face into the fish bowl from the corner of my eye, I turn my body from my waist, initiating the movement from my feet on the ground, slowly with Sustainment (a Time Factor, the opposite of Quick) and Directness. As I finish turning and verify that she does indeed have her nose in the bowl. Nose in the bowl verification complete, I snap my fingers at her with Strength, Quickness, and Directness leaving my hand at the edge of my Kinesphere, closer to her than me. After the snap there is a brief moment of Strong Weight and Direct Space (Stable State) where my attention remains directly and forcefully on her, as if to say “Yes, I really mean it.”
The revelation here was based in my success or failure to use Strong Weight in that snapping (Action Drive Punch) moment. Over the past few days of writing this evaluation, I have had the opportunity to experience this movement many times. I’ve noticed that when I don’t quite get all my weight behind this movement and end up using Lightness (a Weight Factor on the other end of the spectrum) instead, my cat responds as if I’m giving her the option to take her head out of the bowl but not commanding it. She hears “Well, if you could maybe remove your head from the bowl, I’d appreciate it, but if not that’s OK too.”
And, not surprisingly, she chooses to leave her head exactly where it is. On the other hand, if I am able to really get behind my weight and manifest Strength in that snapping moment (an Action Drive Punch), she responds by quickly removing her head and taking a few steps back from the bowl, blinking in surprise and annoyance. So, by really clarifying my intent and my Strength I am able to communicate what I intend (for her to take her head out of the bowl) more clearly.
____________________________________
I’ve found that this short moment with my cat plays into my life as well. When I first began my study of Effort, Strong Weight felt very uncomfortable to me. As the IMS program progressed, I realized that when I used Strong Weight, I felt like I was being pushy. I didn’t want to be pushy. So, because I had a negative value placed on using Strong Weight, I was resistant to using it and tended to see Strong Weight as a negative quality in other people.
The more I practiced Strong Weight, the more I recognized that Strong Weight is not innately negative, but is perfectly applicable in certain situations—like motivating a large group of my dance students to move. And, as a result, I am able to use Strong Weight where I deem it appropriate (like when I want my cat to GET HER NOSE OUT OF THE FISH BOWL).
Sunday, January 24, 2010
In Dance, Winner Gives All: On Sports and Competition
After having the National and American Football Championships as background while working and reading over past posts, another valuable lesson that dance has to teach us came up for me. Dance offers an alternative to the dualistic notion of competition found in sports. Dancers train intensely but not for quantitative, scientific or competitive goals. Instead, dancers train their bodies to create a means of being more qualitative, emotive, articulate and expressive human beings.
In the field of dance, there is still camaraderie , intense training, and public acknowledgment of talents and gifts. Where dance differs from the world of sports is in its rejection of the dualistic notion of winners and losers, quantitative notions of a first place, second place, and third place winner. Dance provides a complexity of experience, not a uniform or repetitive sensation of joy or disappointment when the team of choice either wins or loses. Instead, audience members are faced with more complex quandaries than who won the contest. Audience members of dance experience emotional reactions, ponder questions, and admire the potential for fuller expression of human nature and physiological articulation of the human body. Whether this is a positive or negative experience for the audience member, it is in fact very different from that of competition. Dance calls upon the viewer to experience complex constellations of emotion such as apathy, anger, impatience, humor, sorrow and passion.
In this way, dance is inclusive. It is inclusive of all voices through which the dance is performed, processes by which dance is created and reactions by those experience the dance. There is no one final winner in dance that excludes and obscures all who lose. Notions of facts and figures, statistics, and unilateral results are not primary to the field of dance. There is space for many dancers to express themselves. In these spaces, dancers are honored and revered, not for being the winners in their field but for articulating something about the human condition that has never been expressed in that exact way before. There is enough room for all of those who commit to the process of creating dance to be appreciated and admired for doing so.
Now of course I am not oblivious to the idea of how people create a hierarchy of performers, choreographers, and companies within the dance community. I would argue, though, that this hierarchy is a symptom of the dualistic, hierarchical, Cartesian world-view in which we all live and not a part of the nature of dance itself. Before there was Western concert dance, people danced as a means to express uniqueness of self or a group identity. In cultural contexts other than Western concert dance, many dances were performed in a way that all could be included and honored. There was no winner who was set above all others in these inclusive forms of cultural dance forms. Instead there was a collective of individuals whose unique place in the larger community only strengthened the whole. Dance offers solace to those beaten down by the aggression, dualist thinking, and “winner takes all” mentality of competitive sports. It offers people a place where their voices can be heard, where the individual competes with their best self not with others. It is a place where there can be more than one “winner.” The winner in dance is the person who finds effective and creative ways to better articulate their bodies and their message. Dance’s potential to honor the voice of each and every individual is another invaluable gift it offers society.
In the field of dance, there is still camaraderie , intense training, and public acknowledgment of talents and gifts. Where dance differs from the world of sports is in its rejection of the dualistic notion of winners and losers, quantitative notions of a first place, second place, and third place winner. Dance provides a complexity of experience, not a uniform or repetitive sensation of joy or disappointment when the team of choice either wins or loses. Instead, audience members are faced with more complex quandaries than who won the contest. Audience members of dance experience emotional reactions, ponder questions, and admire the potential for fuller expression of human nature and physiological articulation of the human body. Whether this is a positive or negative experience for the audience member, it is in fact very different from that of competition. Dance calls upon the viewer to experience complex constellations of emotion such as apathy, anger, impatience, humor, sorrow and passion.
In this way, dance is inclusive. It is inclusive of all voices through which the dance is performed, processes by which dance is created and reactions by those experience the dance. There is no one final winner in dance that excludes and obscures all who lose. Notions of facts and figures, statistics, and unilateral results are not primary to the field of dance. There is space for many dancers to express themselves. In these spaces, dancers are honored and revered, not for being the winners in their field but for articulating something about the human condition that has never been expressed in that exact way before. There is enough room for all of those who commit to the process of creating dance to be appreciated and admired for doing so.
Now of course I am not oblivious to the idea of how people create a hierarchy of performers, choreographers, and companies within the dance community. I would argue, though, that this hierarchy is a symptom of the dualistic, hierarchical, Cartesian world-view in which we all live and not a part of the nature of dance itself. Before there was Western concert dance, people danced as a means to express uniqueness of self or a group identity. In cultural contexts other than Western concert dance, many dances were performed in a way that all could be included and honored. There was no winner who was set above all others in these inclusive forms of cultural dance forms. Instead there was a collective of individuals whose unique place in the larger community only strengthened the whole. Dance offers solace to those beaten down by the aggression, dualist thinking, and “winner takes all” mentality of competitive sports. It offers people a place where their voices can be heard, where the individual competes with their best self not with others. It is a place where there can be more than one “winner.” The winner in dance is the person who finds effective and creative ways to better articulate their bodies and their message. Dance’s potential to honor the voice of each and every individual is another invaluable gift it offers society.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Dance: So What's the Point?
This past year I have temporarily moved from New York City back to my small hometown in North Carolina. I will spare you the details of the challenges and difficulties adjusting to the pace and culture of life here. Instead, I'd like to address what I've learned about artists and dancers specifically while surrounded by a culture who lacks exposure to dance. From the difficulty of my transition I have come to understand the value of dance within a community in a way that was just words before I moved from New York. I know those of us working in the arts are always hearing the bullet points of why the arts or dance are important. But I have come to understand my value as a dancer in a deeper way.
Since my move, I've been stuck with the eternal question, "Why does living here feel so different for me as a dancer?" I've struggled with so many questions in terms of my value and identity while in my hometown.
Am I a dancer any longer without a community that values my profession?
What makes me or ever made me a dancer in the first place?
What makes me fundamentally different than the rest of my current community of non-dancers?
What is it exactly that I feel is lacking in terms of support that I would get in a community of artists or dancers?
These questions have lead me to powerful realizations about dance and what it provides within a community. Much of what I've learned can also be provided by other art forms, but there is something about using the body in such an articulate way where words are not a requirement that makes dance so unique. The last blog post is about lack of appreciation of dance. This blog is about what values go unseen by most in terms of what dance brings to our society.
Dance brings creativity. Ok so we already know that. Yes? But dance brings a very specific type of creative thinking. For many who aren't artists, the status quot of how society and culture work is static and fully accepted as reality. But this isn't the case for dancers. The impulse for me as a dancer is to create, not only something that fills my soul but that expresses that potential to each audience member. In each and every dance, dancers create new worlds that did not exist before the dance was brought into existence. And we do this in a fully physical way. We actually do something instead of just thinking or talking about it. Dancers are attentive to questions of perfection, specificity, problem-solving, and clear intention that those who are on procedural auto-pilot at their jobs rarely experience. We see possibilities, not just static structures and protocol. We don't accept current realities as final realities. We just create new ones, more fulfilling ones, better ones for ourselves. And we share them with our audiences in such a way that we open them to those possibilities as well.
Because of this expertise in creating evocative worlds of clear intent and problem resolution, it is a part of our lives as well. It is incredibly difficult for me to hear a phrase I hear so much as of late, "But that's just the way things are." As a dancer who creates new worlds, I see this as the death of artistic and societal potential. . . the death of infinite possibilities that have the power to improve the status quot. It is unfathomable to me that people who have little experience creating and problem-solving see an issue and have difficulties not only resolving the issue but even articulating or understanding that it can be solved. I've been in meetings where nothing was accomplished and nothing was discussed in a generative, progressive way. People just stated their opinions either about the topic or about someone else's opinion of the topic. And then everyone went home. That's not in the make-up of a dancer. We identify, articulate, frame the problem or question, and create ways to solve that problem or question. Then (and here's the kicker) we actually solve the problem or question all while still acknowledging there are an infinite amount of alternative ways to approach and resolve that same problem or question. We do this in an inclusive way, where other perspectives are creatively integrated into the whole of the solutions. What we often miss in our dance communities of support, is that the rest of the world outside of arts and dance are not as able to accomplish this phenomena. They have limited experience in this process.
Another powerful thing that we often take for granted is that dance brings awareness and integration. What I mean by that is we as dancers have an intimate and infinitely knowledgeable relationship with our bodies that most do not have. We know how to communicate with others using our bodies and also how to communicate with our own bodies. A small and seemingly inconsequential example is that moment that I would have so often in New York of being in an elevator or crowded train noticing how unaware the general public is of the use of space and how they fill space. It may seem small and inconsequential at first, until you see the frustration that bubbles to the surface from people who feel that others are being inconsiderate. These small moments have escalated to arguments and even physical altercations. Now when you think of a society who is aware of their personal space and how they use space in public, how small is it really when we know that these situations can escalate to such a degree?
This knowledge lends itself to understanding the complexities of not only our bodies but of other concepts. We know that just because we are kicking our leg that this doesn't mean that other things aren't happening simultaneously. We understand the layers of bodily movement. We understand there is emotional connection, physical chain reactions to the rest of the body, purpose or intent, bodily history, strength and coordination, and relationships to others that color that leg kicking up in the air. Nothing is ever just one non-dynamic event. Whether we are speaking about our bodies or about other things, we understand that there is always emotional connection, relationship to the whole, purpose or intent, personal history, skills and training, and relationships to others that color any moment in our lives.
Consider thinking for a moment about your body as a life partner who has been physically present with you for every single moment of your life. Then think about not ever really attending to that partner even though it's there, working with you and relating to you at every moment. I can't imagine the suffering of those who don't have an attentive relationship to their bodies. I can't imagine what life would be like to mindlessly or superficially bring my body along for the ride throughout my life, and then think of it as "failing" me when it refuses to comply with my expectations of it. What an awful partnership to suffer through considering how much of our lives are spent with this "partner."
Because we are aware of our bodies, we are able to pull from the knowledge we have of learning from our bodies and communicating through and with our bodies that most don't have the opportunity to experience. Many people who are not used to working with their bodies see their bodies as an environment of failure. They have not attended to how they move their bodies or how they treat their bodies. And when the body begins to fail them in terms of what it looks like, how it feels, or what it's able to do, they see their bodies as a site of failure only to be corrected or ignored. But for the dancer, this site is a rich site of new experiences. Whether failure in the body is seen as a deeply emotional experience, a positive challenge, a learning process, or a new discovery about ourselves, it is never a site simply to be discarded, despised, rejected, or given up on.
The relationship anyone has with their body is ultimately a quality of life issue. It can make functioning physically, expressing ourselves emotionally, and valuing ourselves either a positive experience or an incredibly difficult experience. And as dancers who encourage others to move or value movement, we are the wielders of a powerful gift, the gift of improving the quality of life for ourselves, our communities, and the greater society.
Since my move, I've been stuck with the eternal question, "Why does living here feel so different for me as a dancer?" I've struggled with so many questions in terms of my value and identity while in my hometown.
Am I a dancer any longer without a community that values my profession?
What makes me or ever made me a dancer in the first place?
What makes me fundamentally different than the rest of my current community of non-dancers?
What is it exactly that I feel is lacking in terms of support that I would get in a community of artists or dancers?
These questions have lead me to powerful realizations about dance and what it provides within a community. Much of what I've learned can also be provided by other art forms, but there is something about using the body in such an articulate way where words are not a requirement that makes dance so unique. The last blog post is about lack of appreciation of dance. This blog is about what values go unseen by most in terms of what dance brings to our society.
Dance brings creativity. Ok so we already know that. Yes? But dance brings a very specific type of creative thinking. For many who aren't artists, the status quot of how society and culture work is static and fully accepted as reality. But this isn't the case for dancers. The impulse for me as a dancer is to create, not only something that fills my soul but that expresses that potential to each audience member. In each and every dance, dancers create new worlds that did not exist before the dance was brought into existence. And we do this in a fully physical way. We actually do something instead of just thinking or talking about it. Dancers are attentive to questions of perfection, specificity, problem-solving, and clear intention that those who are on procedural auto-pilot at their jobs rarely experience. We see possibilities, not just static structures and protocol. We don't accept current realities as final realities. We just create new ones, more fulfilling ones, better ones for ourselves. And we share them with our audiences in such a way that we open them to those possibilities as well.
Because of this expertise in creating evocative worlds of clear intent and problem resolution, it is a part of our lives as well. It is incredibly difficult for me to hear a phrase I hear so much as of late, "But that's just the way things are." As a dancer who creates new worlds, I see this as the death of artistic and societal potential. . . the death of infinite possibilities that have the power to improve the status quot. It is unfathomable to me that people who have little experience creating and problem-solving see an issue and have difficulties not only resolving the issue but even articulating or understanding that it can be solved. I've been in meetings where nothing was accomplished and nothing was discussed in a generative, progressive way. People just stated their opinions either about the topic or about someone else's opinion of the topic. And then everyone went home. That's not in the make-up of a dancer. We identify, articulate, frame the problem or question, and create ways to solve that problem or question. Then (and here's the kicker) we actually solve the problem or question all while still acknowledging there are an infinite amount of alternative ways to approach and resolve that same problem or question. We do this in an inclusive way, where other perspectives are creatively integrated into the whole of the solutions. What we often miss in our dance communities of support, is that the rest of the world outside of arts and dance are not as able to accomplish this phenomena. They have limited experience in this process.
Another powerful thing that we often take for granted is that dance brings awareness and integration. What I mean by that is we as dancers have an intimate and infinitely knowledgeable relationship with our bodies that most do not have. We know how to communicate with others using our bodies and also how to communicate with our own bodies. A small and seemingly inconsequential example is that moment that I would have so often in New York of being in an elevator or crowded train noticing how unaware the general public is of the use of space and how they fill space. It may seem small and inconsequential at first, until you see the frustration that bubbles to the surface from people who feel that others are being inconsiderate. These small moments have escalated to arguments and even physical altercations. Now when you think of a society who is aware of their personal space and how they use space in public, how small is it really when we know that these situations can escalate to such a degree?
This knowledge lends itself to understanding the complexities of not only our bodies but of other concepts. We know that just because we are kicking our leg that this doesn't mean that other things aren't happening simultaneously. We understand the layers of bodily movement. We understand there is emotional connection, physical chain reactions to the rest of the body, purpose or intent, bodily history, strength and coordination, and relationships to others that color that leg kicking up in the air. Nothing is ever just one non-dynamic event. Whether we are speaking about our bodies or about other things, we understand that there is always emotional connection, relationship to the whole, purpose or intent, personal history, skills and training, and relationships to others that color any moment in our lives.
Consider thinking for a moment about your body as a life partner who has been physically present with you for every single moment of your life. Then think about not ever really attending to that partner even though it's there, working with you and relating to you at every moment. I can't imagine the suffering of those who don't have an attentive relationship to their bodies. I can't imagine what life would be like to mindlessly or superficially bring my body along for the ride throughout my life, and then think of it as "failing" me when it refuses to comply with my expectations of it. What an awful partnership to suffer through considering how much of our lives are spent with this "partner."
Because we are aware of our bodies, we are able to pull from the knowledge we have of learning from our bodies and communicating through and with our bodies that most don't have the opportunity to experience. Many people who are not used to working with their bodies see their bodies as an environment of failure. They have not attended to how they move their bodies or how they treat their bodies. And when the body begins to fail them in terms of what it looks like, how it feels, or what it's able to do, they see their bodies as a site of failure only to be corrected or ignored. But for the dancer, this site is a rich site of new experiences. Whether failure in the body is seen as a deeply emotional experience, a positive challenge, a learning process, or a new discovery about ourselves, it is never a site simply to be discarded, despised, rejected, or given up on.
The relationship anyone has with their body is ultimately a quality of life issue. It can make functioning physically, expressing ourselves emotionally, and valuing ourselves either a positive experience or an incredibly difficult experience. And as dancers who encourage others to move or value movement, we are the wielders of a powerful gift, the gift of improving the quality of life for ourselves, our communities, and the greater society.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Devaluation of Dance
Recently, I've been thinking about the value or non-value of dance as an art form in our culture. Dance as an art form tends to be the least recognized and valued, and as a result the least supported. Dancers are considered less intelligent and dance itself is considered to be something that does not have merit and is an intellectual void.
In a conversation with a friend about my experience in the dance program at Virginia Commonwealth University, and in my experiences applying for a masters program, she was stunned that getting a BFA or an MFA in dance might be difficult and require more than just flinging ourselves around all day—that we actually write papers, create work, and have to think and justify what we do.
Why is this specifically? Is it because our culture society sprang largely from a protestant religion that believed that the body was something to be hidden and that movement (other than for daily activities) lead to damnation? (I have an image of a poster from the late 1800s that describes all of the horrible things that happen if someone participates in dance, including divorce, adultery, and damnation.)
Or does it have more to do with the value of cognitive intelligence which is placed far above experiential intelligence that comes with the scientific method in our culture?
What do you think?
~RLS
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