I apologize for the fact that this blog has been a little dormant. Dance season started, and it seemed to just ricochet off into a crazy lifestyle! Things are starting to slow down now, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to sit down and write a new entry!
Today's topic- choreographic process!
I love choreography. Everything about it just makes me ooze enthusiasm. So far this year I've completed two pieces, and am 1-2 classes away from completing another. Every time I see a part emerge from my brain and into reality, I get so excited! Perhaps it's the dance nerd in me, but I don't know many other teachers that want to cry when their pieces materialize into their vision.
Every teacher seems to have a different process. Some teachers plan and create for weeks, while others take the energy of the studio and create on the spot. I'm always reminded of my composition classes in college, where if we had procrastinated too long, we threw something together the night before in 20 minutes, then ran off to class the next day to show something that usually half of us couldn't remember, and wound up making it up on the spot. While composition classes taught me a lot, nothing taught me more than my experiences with teaching. I could create as much as I wanted in college and put pieces on college students, but nothing compares to taking students who are younger, ready to learn, and eager to please and creating a piece for them and their many styles/talents.
I've found that I have a very specific process. I walk everywhere, so I always have an ipod on me to listen to music. When I've found a piece of music that has hit me as what I want to use, I listen to it over and over and over and over and over... etc. Visions begin to form in my mind. Whether it's patterns onstage, or a specific move that fits perfectly with a lyric or a phrase of music, an overall feel develops in my mind. I always start with that feel. I create certain sections without steps, knowing what kind of things I want at different points.
8,
I then start to choreograph the steps within the studio without the students. I usually wait to see the kids in front of me before I put people in their specific places. When eventually the steps are created, I get to actually teach it! In almost all cases, though, I hit a road block. There's a bar of 8 that I can't wrap my brain around, or a section where I have no idea what I want to do, or there's a transition that I can't come up with. This is the time that I either tell the kids to skip it and we'll move on to the next, or I experiment.
This year, I came across a unique situation. I was in process of creating my three pieces, and I had hit a choreo block. Two of the pieces had not materialized quite the way I had wanted them to, and one had a whole section I didn't know what I wanted to do with. I wasn't happy about it, and I was frustrated. I started teaching the ballet piece, and I was in the studio with the students trying to figure out what I wanted to do. All of a sudden, as I'm listening to the music, and I'm trying to lift my mental shades, I came up with an idea for the ballet. I became very animated teaching to the students, and got far into the dance. The class ended and as I packed up and walked out the door, I stuck my headphones in my ears.
It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt lighter, happier. I then wound up planning out the rest of all the dances. Each one had an ending. Each one had a middle! No phrases unaccounted for. I'd never had an "A-HA!" moment like that before, and it was special, and I was actually very happy to have the students that helped with it share that with me. It was lovely, and very important. It taught me that not everything can be plotted or planned. Sometimes you just need to have that "moment."
Nothing is more rewarding, though, than when you have finally finished the piece, and you see it in its entirety for the first time. I had to create my first competitive lyric dance this year, and I was nervous about it. I wanted to create something beautiful and wonderful that would accentuate the talents of the kids. Throughout the process I thought it would look good, but then the full run-through happened. Music and dance combined to form this beauty. I started tearing up at certain points, just because it was so emotional for me. It was what I had envisioned, and it was coming to life. The students loved it, and you could see that they put their hearts and souls into it.
The ballet was different when I finished. It was very similar, but I started yelling because I was so excited. I was shouting counts, because it was a vibrant and lively ending, and the music was loud and building, and all I could do was shout! It wasn't in a bad way. It was in a good way. The music built as did the excitement in my chest.
I'm looking forward to finishing the third piece. Pretty soon I'll be working on a bunch of ballet pieces, and a couple other different kinds of dance for recital pieces. But then again, that won't be until after winter break.
Can you believe it's almost time for winter break? Time seems to fly...
