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Two contrasting experiences of late highlight the delicate balance required for good dancer partnering.
Experience #1: Excessive desire for contact
I recently went to Havana Village (a salsa club in DC), which is not my usual scene for salsa. There’s just a little too much meat market sprinkled in amongst the dancing for my taste. While some great dancers go there, there are some not so great ones in equal measure. Havana is in a narrow townhouse in Adams Morgan, and thus the dance floor is tiny, with no room for bad floorcraft (which nevertheless abounds). Many of the guys who go there are also not necessarily looking for just a dance.
It is a challenge to the dance connection when other agendas are present. What I mean by that is that although salsa is a sensual dance, sensuality is the quality of the movement in salsa but romance is not the purpose of the dance. It’s difficult to describe exactly what goes into a good connection other than to say it requires both partners to be absolutely in tune with each other, and responsive to cues and movements from the other. Bringing in other intentions that do not arise from that place actually interfere with the connection.
Specifically– and I’m using specific examples from my recent Havana Village experience:
- When you gaze deeply into my eyes searching for me to return whatever it is you’re feeling for me, that does not help our dance connection.
- When you throw me into wild dips and drops without first having established a trusting, balanced partnership, that does not help our connection.
- When you try to increase the intimacy of our contact by pulling me closer or trying to move your hands below my waist, that does not help our connection (and may perhaps reward your efforts with a push or a slap).
When the man I am dancing with is trying to get something else out of the dance other than just dancing with me, it quite frankly puts a big wall between us.
Now, you have probably witnessed or experienced deep eye gazing, crazy tricks, and intimate contact on the dance floor where it looked or seemed perfectly natural. However, I guarantee you that in each case, the action arose out of the bond that had already been established between the dancers, whether out of an existing relationship, the experience and trust built from dancing together more than several times, or in some rare cases, the chemistry is right from the very first dance.
Experience #2: Fear of contact
In my modern dance class today, the choreography included a few very brief moments of physical contact with other dancers. One, in which we leaned against each other lying on the floor, and the other in which we provided brief support in a layout and assistance in standing up.
Trust me when I say that I have not heard so much giggling since my friend Stephanie’s first grade birthday party sleepover. We were all grown adults in this class, and yet it seemed that most (some who I might add have professional dance experience) felt embarrassed or uncomfortable with this sudden contact required by the choreography.
Being a salsera and all, I felt like a fish in water with the contact; however, the awkwardness does start to be contagious when one’s partner is erupting in fits of giggles.
Where does this fear of contact come from? I have witnessed the same thing at play in beginner social dance classes because it is indeed something that takes some time and exposure to get used to (but in the end becomes the most beautiful aspect of the dance). In our daily life, we do not often come into physical contact with each other and often consciously avoid it. We are not so accustomed to making the eye contact necessary for effective partner communication, and to sustaining touch against the body or hands of someone we don’t really know or have not ever had that sort of contact with.
As experience #1 shows, that very intimacy we are apprehensive about in experience #2 it not what effective partnering is. Once we get beyond those apprehensions and into the dance, we realize that this physical contact is actually pretty neutral territory. It’s territory that requires trust and an acute tuning-in to one’s partner. It’s true that other things can arise out of the partnership, but that requires the intention of both halves, and it’s not something that’s going to happen during a brief combination in class.
I’ve never done contact improv, but I’m curious to try it out to test this hypothesis. I also think that I’ve identified a need in the DC adult dance education arena for a partnering class in modern and ballet. In the meantime, I would highly recommend that classically trained dancers seek out some partnering “cross training” in social dance such as salsa, swing, tango, or ballroom to break down some of those feelings of discomfort.
Oh, and don’t go to Havana Village or you might get the wrong idea about those salseros!
Dear Readers,
I need your advice. Two things on my to do list are buy a new pair of ballet slippers and look into the possibility of summer intensives.
For the ballet slippers: I’m looking for a relatively high-quality and durable pair with a split sole. Are they all created equal, or is there one brand/model you’re particularly crazy about?
Regarding summer intensives: What’s a good one for the adult learner? Also, are there ones of short duration? The ideal for me would be a week, and I’d particularly like to have some intense focus on my technique for ballet and/or modern dance; something that will really push me to the next level. Performance opportunities would be nice, but are by no means a requirement.
Thanks in advance for any testimonials, rumors, or hearsay you may have to contribute regarding the above!
Sascha Radetsky wrote an article in Newsweek about the challenges of being a male dancer– the stereotypes, the misunderstandings of what the profession entails, and the social adversity of being one of the few men in a male-dominated profession. I actually think it’s a great article and I’m thrilled when a mainstream publication such as Newsweek devotes attention to dance.
However– and far be it from me to imply that someone’s experience is not authentic, important, or to be taken seriously– I wonder how relevant such a complain is in the world we live in.
Radetsky writes, “…I find myself slightly guarded when I tell people what I do. Like some sort of incurable blight, the male-dancer stereotype has taken root and metastasized in our cultural consciousness.
“In our culture, girls are encouraged to take ballet; boys receive no such endorsement, except of course from ballet teachers or exceptionally supportive parents. The boy who perseveres in dance must have a genuine hunger for it, must be uniquely motivated and dedicated, and must develop a truly thick skin.”
Ok, fair enough, but what about girls who wish to pursue careers in the still male dominated fields of engineering, medicine, business, law, or politics? Their difficulty is not in being respected by their fellow females (though they may face that from their more old fashioned counterparts), but in breaking in to entrenched male centric norms. Many times it’s not even overt discrimination, but a fear of the new. It seems that in dance, it’s not for lack of encouragement by the establishment; if anything, male dancers are in demand and face much less competition than females simply due to numbers.
It is indeed admirable the passion, drive, and disregard of others’ opinions that it takes for males to succeed in dance. However, I’m not seeing so many news stories about women who succeed in typically male-dominated fields, or that wage gaps that still exist between men and women.
I see a disproportionate number of men in leadership positions in female dominated fields. Education, social work, and non-profits overwhelmingly employ women, yet I see many, many directorial and supervisory positions occupied by men. Likewise in dance, I see a disproportionate number of men in leadership positions, as well as choreography and direction.
There is a great thread going on over at Great Dance. Doug asked dance bloggers to share a little bit about their blogs, why they blog, and what sort of interesting experiences they have had as a result. Many different bloggers have contributed their unique stories. I added my comments as well, so you may get a little more insight into how I got started and the little ways this blog has actually changed my life for the better. Check it out here.
I think the catharsis I got from writing three posts age really did help. There was a really nice post on kk’s blog today about it, which made me feel like I have a kindred spirit in this.
I felt pretty darn good at rehearsal on Friday and there were a ton of new faces in my modern dance class today so the teacher slowed things way down and really got into the technique of things. It made me feel super proficient for once– it’s all relative.
We are now at t-6 on the Miami countdown! This is not before having to go to Chicago for one night (study in contrasts, I tell ya), but I’m planning to hit up a salsa club while I’m there, and there is nothing like salsa travel to reinvigorate me.
Although I’ve been going to class and practice more, I’ve been feeling rather ungraceful, slow, and inept. I’m not sure what’s going on, though winter blahs and desperately needing a vacation from work are surely playing a part.
It’s not that I’m thinking of quitting, but it is quite demoralizing to feel after each practice that I probably could have done better but didn’t have the energy and focus to pull it off. I’ve been coming home from practices and classes feeling like a phony, like maybe I’ve overinflated my own abilities in my mind and this is just life trying to keep me in check.
Of course, this self-pitying, self-defeating thinking is getting me no where. In my mind, I know that I’m getting better in class, that I can do a good job if I keep going to practice, and that if I keep on going I will find redemption.
A while ago, I wrote a post, Pearls of Wisdom, and promised to share some of the helpful and inspirational conversations I’ve had over the past few months. This seems like an ideal time– with deepest gratitude to the sources and my apologies for any misrepresentations of their words– for me to revisit some of them.
On balancing modern and salsa dance (which I am still doing on alternate days of the week and which I believe will continue to be part of my problem until I’ve mastered “flipping the switch” between them), I turned to my friend Kindra. Kindra has danced with a community modern dance troupe, done ballroom dance competitively, and a beautiful and highly capable salsa dancer. Kindra encouraged me to keep up my modern dance training, as it would help me with my release issues and make me a better overall dancer. As for the salsa, I should take a beginner ballroom class and focus on the technique and placement of the feet. She told me not to focus on the forms and patterns too much. This is advice worth taking. My re-aligned body is having trouble staying balanced in heels now.
Rob and I met up a while back to discuss blogging, writing and dance. I asked if I could pick his brain about the DC dance community and ways to develop myself as a dancer. Over the course of our conversation, he said something to me that has since become my mantra: Dancers don’t perform– they go to class.
There is so much meaning condensed in this one statement. Growing up, I played musical instruments, so I am well familiar with the old “practice makes perfect” adage. I think dance is ten times harder than playing a musical instrument because not only do you have to practice, but you have to be able to memorize and internalize things quickly. In orchestral performance you always have the sheet music to rely on. You also have a conductor and fellow section members as constant reference points. It also means that you can perform for hours, as long as you feel comfortable with your reading and interpretation of the sheet music.
In dance, the reward for going to class is all too brief and fleeting. Not only do you put immense quantities of (quite literally at times) blood, sweat, and tears to get things just right, but you also have to somehow commit all that to memory, and, come performance time (if it even reaches that stage) you must execute it with the proper feeling in your heart and expression on your face.
Sometimes I wonder if all those weeks or months of practice were worth it just to perform for 6 minutes. People who don’t dance don’t necessarily understand that. There are so many odds you are working against. And that is why it is all about going to class. Class is not a means to an end– it is an essential link in the chain, a chain of classes that you must continue going to. At the best of times, class is a meditation for me. Other times, like right now, it’s a struggle to get through with my pride intact, but I’m always glad I went. I would have felt worse about myself if I didn’t.
I’m going to stop here for now. These are the words that are inspiring me at this time. I’ll revisit some more pearls of wisdom when they become relevant in other ways.
As always, I appreciate it when my readers have their own thoughts to add. Any words of encouragement for the little rut I’m going through would be quite valuable.
I think I would be a brilliant choreographer if I could just somehow record all the people dancing around in my head. Somehow I still haven’t managed to take the highly innovative and artistic ideas I have over the threshold of my mind into reality. One time when ideas are clearer is when you have just awoken after a dream, but by the time you’ve woken up enough (if you don’t fall back asleep) those thoughts have become fuzzy and incoherent.
Enter the Dream Recorder. While it’s not a TiVo for my head, it does seem to visually detect certain dream patterns from visual cues as you sleep, gently awakens you with a sound, and records your voice as you groggily recount your dream. It can also be used to wake you up at the most optimal moment in your sleep cycle, which, given the insomnia and subsequent daytime exhaustion I’ve felt lately, might not be a bad idea.
Via tango blogger Danzarin.
Lately, I’ve had a lot of conversations with various people in my life and in the dance world about my development as a dancer. Some of this advice I have actively sought out, but most of it seems to have organically evolved out of random conversations. I am particularly receptive to this sort of advice right now as I feel I’m at a point in my development where such feedback is meaningful and helpful.
My conversations have ranged across many topics, including anatomy, nutrition, choreography, the business of dance, and things I can personally improve on as a dancer. I’m jotting down all these pearls of wisdom in a notebook and I know I will write more about this as I sit with the thoughts that are percolating in my mind.
For my readers who are involved in creative pursuits– not just dance– what is a good piece of advice or wisdom that helped you to grow in your work?
I had a total “duh” moment in salsa practice tonight.
There’s a move in the choreography where you drop down in a wide stance (grand plie in 2nd position), drop your head and torso over the left knee while straightening the right leg, and the shift your weight, lunging over to the other side. Think Pussycat Dolls. However, I had been feeling decidedly un-sexy when trying to execute this move.
When I asked the director what was going on, it turns out I was staying too tucked in. 
In translation, with my knees bent, I needed to be sticking out my butt out and arching my back. As soon as I realized this was the problem, I was able to revert back and the whole choreography felt more fluid. This is correct salsa posture. It’s something that felt very natural to me when I first started dancing, and it’s something I taught my students when I was teaching. Yet in the year that I have been devoting myself to the study of modern dance, I have lost the instinctive placement of my body into a posture that used to come so naturally to me.
A year ago, it was so hard for me to get that tucked-in, tight core, straight spine posture required in my modern dance class. Now it seems that I have re-molded my body to instinctively put itself into the opposite of what had come naturally. On the upside, it means the modern training has been working. It also explains all the comments I’ve been getting while social dancing salsa about how I must do ballroom (I don’t. Never have.).
I hadn’t been to a formal salsa class/practice in about two years. As of last week I’m doing modern Sunday/Tuesday and Salsa Monday/Wednesday. I have to figure out how to “flip the switch” each day. I actually view this as an excellent opportunity.
My director likened it to switching between dancing salsa on 1 and on 2. In the beginning it’s very challenging and you need to focus on one, but with time you are able to easily switch between the two (as I do).
In September, I wrote a post about how I was able to devote myself to my two “dance addictions.” Everything I wrote still holds true, but I must add to the list this more specific point about differences in posture between the two styles. At the time, I wrote “I am not sure if I am sacrificing one technique for another by doing both salsa and modern simultaneously.” I think that up until this point, the answer has been “yes,” but from here on out, I believe that I’ve reached a moment in my development where that can change.
My “duh” moment gives me the knowledge I need to be intentional in the placement of my body. I don’t think it’s at all an insurmountable challenge, and I look forward to applying my new intention to my dancing.
I recently saw a bumper sticket that said the following:
REMEMBER WHO YOU WANTED TO BE
I really like the sentiment behind this. Too many of us get caught up with the rat race of life and leave our dreams behind us. It is sad when someone leaves this earth with many regrets about things they wish they’d done.
But what I think is important is who we want to be now. Where many of us stumble is that we are not able to see what it is we want; sometimes the truth of what we want, compared to our reality, hurts because we see it as unattainable or impractical.
I’m not exactly sure who I want to be, but I know that dance is helping me be that person.
I think I have release issues. I’ve been chided before in modern dance class for not releasing my back enough. Many of my salsa partners ask me if I’m a ballroom dancer. I’ve never taken a single ballroom dance class in my life. Friends I’ve talked to about that say that it’s because of my good posture and “elegant carriage,” which is all very well and good most of the time, except I want to achieve that loose, earthy movement quality of afro-caribbean dance.
I carry a lot of tension in my upper back, and often have pain in my lower back, and have done so for as long as I can remember. I will do pretty much anything for a massage any time. I’m always massaging my own shoulders, and twisting and stretching in my chair to excise the pain from my lower back. I sit on a ball to strengthen my core; I take yoga and pilates. In short, I’m doing everything you’re supposed to do to get at back issues.
At a yoga workshop about chakras I learned that one of my chakras must be blocked. Someone else told me that there is some sort of emotional trauma that can be linked to tension in the back.
Anyone else have these issues? What ideas do you have for being able to release one’s back more?
You know how you pick out the best student to stand behind when you’re new to a dance class? You hope you can learn something from them, emulate them, and that their grace and skill will draw attention from your fumbling attempts to keep up. Yali is that person.
When I started my modern dance class, I stayed close to Yali, and in the process of me hounding her for advice, we became friends. Sadly, Yali has moved *sniff* back to Paris after many years in the DC area. Lucky for me (and for all of you), she started a blog as she was leaving to stay connected with her friends and to write about dance.
So far she has posted about a redeeming experience at the Alvin Ailey School, about one of my personal heroes and friends, and answered the question “when is a moden dance class not a modern dance class?” (answer: when it is a yoga class). I look forward to reading more!
Although I try to take stock of things I have to be thankful for throughout the year, Thanksgiving is always a time of deeper reflection for me.
One thing I am constantly thankful for is my wonderful husband, family and friends. You each support me, love me, and accept me for who I am in your own way. Each of you contributes something unique to my life that makes it that much richer and joyful. You are there when the going gets tough and you rejoice with me during the happy times. Thank you a million times over to all of you.
My gratitude would not be complete without mentioning dance. In the relatively short time dance has been in my life it has transformed me in many ways.
Physically, it has made me a more fit, healthy person– and injured toe aside, I am grateful for my health each day that I have it.
Mentally, dance challenges me and expands my mind. Even the physical challenges make me mentally stronger. Internalizing technique and choreography is strengthening all my neurons and increasing my spacial intelligence and coordination.
Intellectually, dance has given me a whole new world to learn about, and I am discovering new things every day– learning from the different classes I attend, concerts I see, people I meet, and blogs I read.
Emotionally, dance feeds my soul. When I found dance as an important part of my life, it filled a void I didn’t even know existed in me. It brings me joy and satisfaction, and lifts me up when I’m having a bad day.
Coming back full circle to my incredible support network of family and friends, I have made some of the best friendships of my life through dance. It’s so wonderful to have friends that are not only compatible with me on a personal level, but also understand and share my passion for dance.
Writing in this blog has given me a creative outlet I didn’t have before. I’ve always loved to write but never could find the time or motivation. Dance gave me a reason to become a better and more frequent writer. Thanks to all of you have have commented on this blog and given me feedback and support.
Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you spend your day in good company, and with good food!
Last weekend, Mr. P (aka my husband) took pity on my hobbled self.
“If I can’t dance,” I pleaded, “can we at least go see other people dance?”
Though Mr. P and I have much in common (shared dreams, shared love, shared life, shared preference for long walks on the beach, etc.), dance is not one of those things. Attending a dance concert with me is a pure act of love on his part. Needless to say, at times like these I hope he finds it worthwhile, beyond just making me happy.
When we attend a dance concert together, it’s interesting for me to observe his reactions and compare them to my own. Are the dancers communicating a concept, and emotion, a message, or a thing of beauty just to people who “get” (and I say that word somewhat facetiously) dance, or are they being universal in their outward communication?
It was nice to see that Mr. P and I were pretty much on the same page for the whole show, and that he had some insights that were really interesting. I could tell from his face that he had enjoyed the first piece in the show, which seemed to be about people in crowded places, with a motif of a seething mass of dancers. “They looked like earthworms,” said Mr. P. That’s exactly what they looked like.
At intermission, there was a drawing for a free pair of tickets. Guess who won? Mr. P, of course. “It’s always the person that doesn’t really care about winning that wins,” he laughed.
I’m just happy because that means I get to go on another dance concert date with Mr. P!
It’s now been ten days since I dislocated my big toe. I graduated to real shoes the day before yesterday, meaning I don’t have to wear what I like to call my sexy shoe anymore, and can get around in sneakers or other roomy, sensible, flat shoes.
I went to yoga class on Thursday and made it through with some one-legged down dogs and skipping the toe stands. I’m not ready for dance class yet. As we speak, my friend Y. is gallivanting around NYC, taking classes at Alvin Ailey on her fun dance weekend that I was supposed to go on too. Sigh.
Today P. and I went to the shopping outlet, and I thought I’d get a pair of ballet flats as most of my work shoes are heels. Turns out the toe is still too swollen to fit into normal, snug fitting shoes. I love shoes, I really love them, so this is hard for me. Sniff. I shouldn’t complain too much– I’m lucky that I have my health and that this is only a temporary setback.
One thing I learned first-hand during my handicap was how truly rude people on the DC metro are. I have witnessed the insensitivity of others before when seeing hugely pregnant women, elderly, and handicapped folks get on the train. I’m not old-fashioned or anything, but I have almost never seen a man offer his seat to someone on the metro. Inevitably it is always a woman who does so (and I try to count myself among those). Last week, I got on and it was a crowded train. All the young, able-bodied men immediately raised their newspapers over their faces. After 10 minutes of struggling to keep myself steady on one foot in the jerky train, an older woman (probably in her 70s) offered her seat to me. I was appalled that it had come to that!! Where is the civility in this city? That nice woman probably needed her seat more than me and yet no one else on the train could be bothered to stand for a couple stops.
A Time to Dance 