Ah, yet again, I have been terrible about keeping up with this blog. The inspiration is always there- it’s a matter of remembering to put the inspiration into words and finding the time to do it! I’m sure most of you out there can relate!
I have decided to take the time to reflect on my personal year in dance.
The first part of 2011 was muddled with some personal problems that I was working through, however, I realize that the dance studio was my place of respite. From fine-tuning my competitive choreography, to creating for my recreational dancers, I found comfort in throwing myself into the world of dance. In some classes, it proved to be the drive that I needed. In others, I found myself struggling to be inspired.
2011 was the first year that I had a group lyric dance in competition. While it did not win any major awards, I was very proud of the choreography, and extremely pleased with much of the feedback that I got from judges. It was the same with a ballet piece. It was the first time our director was entering a group with a ballet dance that wasn’t the top level in the studio. They held their own, and proved to be able to handle a ballet piece with positivity, hard work, and a little grace.
Recreationally, 2011 was a mix. While the kids were great, and the dances wound up being good, I had some difficulty choreographing. With one class in particular, it seemed I had different people out every week, and since I wasn’t good with keeping the same notebook in my bag, I had no idea where anyone was spatially in the dance. It was, on a grand majority, my fault. On the other hand, I had a class where the choreography was done in almost record time, and we almost over rehearsed it for the recital. It paid off, though- it was one of my favorite and most fun pieces I ever created.
2011 was also the first year I acted as a judge in the dance world. I gained a whole new respect for dance competition judges. I had judged for a one day competition that started very early, but ended at a pretty decent hour. I was exhausted and wiped out by the end. Even with breaks for lunch and coffee, and having the opportunity to get up and walk around, I was amazed at how draining it was! However, I would never pass up the opportunity to do it again. I thoroughly enjoyed doing it, and loved being able to see different dancers out there.
The summer proved to be a long one this year. I typically take the summer off. The craziness from January to May usually gives me the feeling that I have the right to take this time off from dancing. I had the opportunity to go see some of my dancers at a Nationals competition in Boston where they did very well. After that, though, it was a long way to August. I wound up taking up jogging just to get myself back into a physical place. It paid off, though. I felt in top physical shape!
When August finally came around and I started teaching for the summer program, I felt ready to be inspired and boy was I! If you check out some of my previous entries, you’ll read about some of my experiences I had with taking class. It sparked the flame in me. My desire to return to my best year yet had been stoked.
The fall season began with a few minor hiccups, but I am proud to say that I believe this is going to be the best year yet! I am finding my stride as a choreographer. I am better aware of my students as dancers, and I am more aware of my choreography on stage. I know what inspires me, and hope that I can pass the inspiration on to my students. I adore working where I do, and can only hope that 2011 will be the year that my dance/teaching/choreography skills expand and move to new heights.
Looking back on 2011, in all aspects of my life, I believe it was a growing year. While I believe that some years are filled with more growth than others, I felt as though I walked into 2011 humbly, knowing that I had a long way to go, and that I needed to grow in certain ways in my life. I am walking confidently this year into 2012 with a better sense of where I am, and with an ever-increasing hunger to learn from my peers and superiors.
I am most looking forward to creating more dances in 2012. What are you looking forward to the most?
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Thankfulness
I apologize for not updating recently (or within the past 2 months). My summer schedule to my fall schedule always hits me like a ton of bricks, and I tend to let things like this blog go the wayside. However, with the holidays coming up, I have more inspiration to write and the growing desire to write about my passions.
So for today, I am inspired by Thanksgiving! It is only 3 days away, and I am so excited! Since November 1st, I have been posting on my personal Facebook page statuses about what I am thankful for this year. It's been a way for me to remember that yes, there is a holiday between Halloween and Christmas, and a way to keep myself grounded. Thanksgiving isn't just about the gluttony of the season. It's about the people who made the long journey from England to a land unfamiliar to them. It's about their sacrifices and their survival; their determination to make a new life, even though they lost over half of their original crew. It is about being thankful for all that they had after they had lost so much.
In this spirit, I would like to talk about what I am thankful for in the dance world. And there is SO much to be thankful for!
I am thankful for ballet. As the base for all dance, I am thankful that I can pass on its importance to so many students. Even if they don't love it, they learn to appreciate it.
I am thankful for shows like So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing With the Stars. When I was younger, they didn't have shows like that. If you wanted to see dance, you had to go to the ballet, or find out when the modern dance companies were coming into town, or be a dancer yourself. I didn't have websites like Youtube to search for dancers for hours. I was considered different because I danced. I am so thankful that those shows brought dance to the mainstream's eye. Even for people who don't dance themselves, it brings it into their homes. Even my grandmother watches So You Think You Can Dance!
I am thankful for my students. Not only are they all beautiful dancers, but they are beautiful people as well, and will grow up as beautiful people. Their love for dance is almost unsurpassed compared to other places that I have seen.
I am thankful for the extensive knowledge I have of dance. It allows me to take care of myself and to take care of my students. I can answer most questions about random body aches and pains. I am no doctor, but I have helped to fix multiple questions of "why is my knee hurting when I do this?" or "I have a pain in my foot, what's wrong?" It helps me to prevent common injuries in dancers that don't work correctly, and it helps me to help my students.
I am thankful for all the teachers I have had in my life. From my first teacher Miss Debbie to the master class teachers that I take from today, and every single teacher in between, I have learned something from all of them, and have taken the good and put it into my own teachings.
I am thankful for still being able to have dance in my life at the age of 27. Not only does it keep my passion burning for it, but I attribute much of my youthfulness to it. I don't look 27 (thanks mom and dad!), and parts of me aren't as serious as some of my peers at 27. Dance helps me to bring in to focus what is important to me, and it is often not similar to what my peers consider important.
I am thankful for the opportunities dance gives everyone, both young and old. Whether it's an 8 year old going to the ballet for the first time, or a 55 year old taking a beginner modern dance class, it gives people a joy and a love that is unlike any other. When I was in high school, I got to perform for an AIDS benefit (one of my future goals is to create a show as an AIDS benefit) and even though at the time I just saw it as another performance, I realize now how important it was, and is, and will be, to be able to share my gifts for a good cause.
I could go on all day, but that is all I have time for today. I hope many of you out there will contemplate what you are thankful for this week! I know most of our minds will be on turkey and stuffing and family gatherings, but take a moment, however brief, and just remember how amazing it is to have the life that you have!
And if you are dancer, remember how lucky and happy you are to have dance in your life!
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
So for today, I am inspired by Thanksgiving! It is only 3 days away, and I am so excited! Since November 1st, I have been posting on my personal Facebook page statuses about what I am thankful for this year. It's been a way for me to remember that yes, there is a holiday between Halloween and Christmas, and a way to keep myself grounded. Thanksgiving isn't just about the gluttony of the season. It's about the people who made the long journey from England to a land unfamiliar to them. It's about their sacrifices and their survival; their determination to make a new life, even though they lost over half of their original crew. It is about being thankful for all that they had after they had lost so much.
In this spirit, I would like to talk about what I am thankful for in the dance world. And there is SO much to be thankful for!
I am thankful for ballet. As the base for all dance, I am thankful that I can pass on its importance to so many students. Even if they don't love it, they learn to appreciate it.
I am thankful for shows like So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing With the Stars. When I was younger, they didn't have shows like that. If you wanted to see dance, you had to go to the ballet, or find out when the modern dance companies were coming into town, or be a dancer yourself. I didn't have websites like Youtube to search for dancers for hours. I was considered different because I danced. I am so thankful that those shows brought dance to the mainstream's eye. Even for people who don't dance themselves, it brings it into their homes. Even my grandmother watches So You Think You Can Dance!
I am thankful for my students. Not only are they all beautiful dancers, but they are beautiful people as well, and will grow up as beautiful people. Their love for dance is almost unsurpassed compared to other places that I have seen.
I am thankful for the extensive knowledge I have of dance. It allows me to take care of myself and to take care of my students. I can answer most questions about random body aches and pains. I am no doctor, but I have helped to fix multiple questions of "why is my knee hurting when I do this?" or "I have a pain in my foot, what's wrong?" It helps me to prevent common injuries in dancers that don't work correctly, and it helps me to help my students.
I am thankful for all the teachers I have had in my life. From my first teacher Miss Debbie to the master class teachers that I take from today, and every single teacher in between, I have learned something from all of them, and have taken the good and put it into my own teachings.
I am thankful for still being able to have dance in my life at the age of 27. Not only does it keep my passion burning for it, but I attribute much of my youthfulness to it. I don't look 27 (thanks mom and dad!), and parts of me aren't as serious as some of my peers at 27. Dance helps me to bring in to focus what is important to me, and it is often not similar to what my peers consider important.
I am thankful for the opportunities dance gives everyone, both young and old. Whether it's an 8 year old going to the ballet for the first time, or a 55 year old taking a beginner modern dance class, it gives people a joy and a love that is unlike any other. When I was in high school, I got to perform for an AIDS benefit (one of my future goals is to create a show as an AIDS benefit) and even though at the time I just saw it as another performance, I realize now how important it was, and is, and will be, to be able to share my gifts for a good cause.
I could go on all day, but that is all I have time for today. I hope many of you out there will contemplate what you are thankful for this week! I know most of our minds will be on turkey and stuffing and family gatherings, but take a moment, however brief, and just remember how amazing it is to have the life that you have!
And if you are dancer, remember how lucky and happy you are to have dance in your life!
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The Search For Music
Sometimes searching for music for choreography can give me a headache.
Last year, I had a class of a large amounts of kids at varying levels of technique that were being introduced to the idea of an “open” piece. I literally searched for weeks for a song. It started over the summer, and I don’t think I decided until the last possible second. I spent many a night in my bed with my laptop staying up until 3AM doing searches on various internet websites related to music. I did finally find the perfect song, and it was worth it with the top scores that they pulled throughout the year. However, sometimes I wonder if there could have been an easier way.
This year, I had an opposite experience that was extremely uplifting. It started out in panic mode. I had created an idea in my head over the summer regarding the “theme” of the piece I wanted to do. I knew I wanted a certain style of music, and unfortunately, I got a piece of music into my head that I knew had been used a couple of years ago. I had searched absent-mindedly a couple times in the weeks leading up to the start of dance, but abandoned the project quickly every time because of the song in my head.
This past weekend, I realized that I needed to pick out a song quickly. The time when choreography begins had come up fast, and I had lost track of time. I went into the music searching phase in a cluttered-mind-state. Not a promising start. Somehow, I started looking at the same things I had been looking at before, and wound up on a different path. Within 20 minutes, I was at my computer listening to a song for a third time, with tears coming down my face. I knew that I needed this song. It fit the composition styling I was looking for, and it moved me. It’s very rare that I pick a piece of music that doesn’t inspire me- even for younger children ballet, which often can be the most difficult kind of choreography for me. It was incredibly uplifting to find a piece of music that had touched me in a way I was looking for.
I know that every teacher has different styles of looking for music. Just the other day I was sharing a room with a dance teacher who had an idea of what she wanted to do for a hip hop dance, and she was on a music site looking up songs related to candy in hopes to find a remix. Sometimes our methods provoke a long search that lasts weeks. Other times, our methods provide us with a quick and easy process. It can be extremely frustrating, but in the end, I always feel it is worth it when I find a song that fits the group I am choreographing for.
Now that I have found a song for the group, I am thoroughly looking forward to beginning the choreography process. Although overall it is a group that I’m familiar with, there are a few new additions this year that will make the group a little different, and I’m excited for what that means for them!
I hope that all the other competition teachers out there are enjoying their music searching process!
Last year, I had a class of a large amounts of kids at varying levels of technique that were being introduced to the idea of an “open” piece. I literally searched for weeks for a song. It started over the summer, and I don’t think I decided until the last possible second. I spent many a night in my bed with my laptop staying up until 3AM doing searches on various internet websites related to music. I did finally find the perfect song, and it was worth it with the top scores that they pulled throughout the year. However, sometimes I wonder if there could have been an easier way.
This year, I had an opposite experience that was extremely uplifting. It started out in panic mode. I had created an idea in my head over the summer regarding the “theme” of the piece I wanted to do. I knew I wanted a certain style of music, and unfortunately, I got a piece of music into my head that I knew had been used a couple of years ago. I had searched absent-mindedly a couple times in the weeks leading up to the start of dance, but abandoned the project quickly every time because of the song in my head.
This past weekend, I realized that I needed to pick out a song quickly. The time when choreography begins had come up fast, and I had lost track of time. I went into the music searching phase in a cluttered-mind-state. Not a promising start. Somehow, I started looking at the same things I had been looking at before, and wound up on a different path. Within 20 minutes, I was at my computer listening to a song for a third time, with tears coming down my face. I knew that I needed this song. It fit the composition styling I was looking for, and it moved me. It’s very rare that I pick a piece of music that doesn’t inspire me- even for younger children ballet, which often can be the most difficult kind of choreography for me. It was incredibly uplifting to find a piece of music that had touched me in a way I was looking for.
I know that every teacher has different styles of looking for music. Just the other day I was sharing a room with a dance teacher who had an idea of what she wanted to do for a hip hop dance, and she was on a music site looking up songs related to candy in hopes to find a remix. Sometimes our methods provoke a long search that lasts weeks. Other times, our methods provide us with a quick and easy process. It can be extremely frustrating, but in the end, I always feel it is worth it when I find a song that fits the group I am choreographing for.
Now that I have found a song for the group, I am thoroughly looking forward to beginning the choreography process. Although overall it is a group that I’m familiar with, there are a few new additions this year that will make the group a little different, and I’m excited for what that means for them!
I hope that all the other competition teachers out there are enjoying their music searching process!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
First Day Thoughts
I have to say, I love the first day of classes. Even though I’ve been teaching at the same studio for a few years now, and overall I’ve taught the same type of classes, there’s still a bit of excitement in the air.
I get excited to see my old students. To be able to welcome back familiar faces is almost a comfort. On a day full of so many possibilities, being able to see students that I know personally and as dancers is uplifting. In the same respect, I am excited to meet new ones. I get to introduce myself as a teacher, and I get to learn about these new dancers- to see who the quiet ones are and who the chatty ones are; the ones that naturally pick up movement, and the ones that need me to go over combinations a few more times. It is a joy to be able to pick up the dance styles and quirks and personalities of each individual.
Seeing how the old and the new react to each other is always a pleasure as well. I love watching a group of friends that have known each other and myself for a year or two take in the newer students and make them feel comfortable. It not only makes it an easier class, but it warms my heart to see how there is still some kindness in the world amongst the younger generations.
I also like to get to know the teachers that are teaching on the same day as me. Networking with fellow teachers, and even just getting to know them as peers is always exciting for me. Just like any teacher, I enjoy speaking with like-minded people about topics that we are passionate about. Passing ideas back and forth, and discussing classes opens up my own mind.
Personally, my season has started out wonderfully, and I am very excited for this upcoming year with my students! I can’t wait to grow and learn with them!
I get excited to see my old students. To be able to welcome back familiar faces is almost a comfort. On a day full of so many possibilities, being able to see students that I know personally and as dancers is uplifting. In the same respect, I am excited to meet new ones. I get to introduce myself as a teacher, and I get to learn about these new dancers- to see who the quiet ones are and who the chatty ones are; the ones that naturally pick up movement, and the ones that need me to go over combinations a few more times. It is a joy to be able to pick up the dance styles and quirks and personalities of each individual.
Seeing how the old and the new react to each other is always a pleasure as well. I love watching a group of friends that have known each other and myself for a year or two take in the newer students and make them feel comfortable. It not only makes it an easier class, but it warms my heart to see how there is still some kindness in the world amongst the younger generations.
I also like to get to know the teachers that are teaching on the same day as me. Networking with fellow teachers, and even just getting to know them as peers is always exciting for me. Just like any teacher, I enjoy speaking with like-minded people about topics that we are passionate about. Passing ideas back and forth, and discussing classes opens up my own mind.
Personally, my season has started out wonderfully, and I am very excited for this upcoming year with my students! I can’t wait to grow and learn with them!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Dreaded Dance Moms
*Note- These are my opinions. And this is a fun blog. I don't want to cause my own reality-tv-like drama!
So I have been putting off writing a blog entry about Dance Moms. Everyone I know asks if I watch it, so it’s only natural that I write about it. I just know, however, that writing about Dance Moms could become as controversial as the show itself.
Yes, I watch Dance Moms. It’s probably a horrible thing to admit being a dance teacher. However, I think that being a dance teacher gives me the ability to watch it from a knowledgeable stand point, and as an adult, I can watch it from a doubting standpoint. Some of Dance Moms is clearly real. The talent that these kids have is phenomenal. That comes from the discipline that they have learned at the Abby Lee Miller studio. It’s important to keep in mind, though, that it is still a “reality” tv show. This means, that half the situations are over-dramatized, and are even fueled by the producers.
The first thing that got to me about the show was the “win or you’re nothing” attitude. Between the posters on the walls (put up by the producers?) and the infamous Pyramid, it was a straight shot out of the gate for this show to promote some bad ideas. As dance teachers in the competitive world, you obviously want your students to excel and do their best. My students freak when they win high scores, and they get really excited when they exceed their own expectations for their dancing. I do that, though, by impressing technique upon them, encouraging them to go to every ballet class they can get their hands on, and working hard within their classes. I don’t pit these students against each other. By promoting a pyramid, Abby is encouraging the kids to become as catty as their mothers.
You can see it in the nine year old Maddie. She likes to say how she’s undefeated and she doesn’t get nervous because she’s so good. If any one of my students started to get that attitude, I would not be a happy camper. Most teachers goal is to promote camaraderie amongst groups so that they build good team work skills and good sportsmanship. It was so upsetting to me to see in the latest episode when a “rival” or “fan” of Maddie’s came up to talk to her in a friendly manner, and yet Maddie acted like a little snotty brat. Had I ever done that when I was competing back in the day, not only would my mother have had some harsh words with me, but so would my competition director and studio owner. Maddie has started to get a big head at a young age, and it’s causing jealousy and bad attitudes amongst the other kids.
I also don’t like the fact that Abby treats these nine year olds like they’re 18. I understand the concept behind trying to prepare these kids for the commercial world of dance, and helping them to become more independent people. At nine, though, this should not be something on these kids’ minds. Yes, they are on a “fast track” to a dance career, and they want to be the best, but at what cost? With the way that their schedules are described, they seem to only go to school and dance, with an emphasis on dance, and not on their education. This does not create a well-rounded individual, and can cause issues for when they become adults. Abby seems to have forgotten that while these kids want to become dancers, they won’t be able to be dancers forever. It’s particularly true if these kids are already experiencing injuries from their intense schedules. What’s going to happen to Brooke when she’s 22, dancing for a company, and tears something? Her career will be slowed down, if not over, at a very early age, and the poor girl won’t have the education behind her to back her up for another career.
Kids still need to be kids. I know from experience that dancers tend to be more independent and disciplined for their ages, but they still need the opportunities to go hang out with friends, or be part of the school band, or be involved with volunteer work, etc. Dancers need to be more than dancers- they need to have personalities and interests beyond the dance world. As they become older, they can choose to become more focused and work on their dancing, as opposed to have their focus be chosen for them at a very early age.
The dance mothers alone drive me nuts. The very first episode made me very grateful to have the mother that I did. My mom was a dance mom, but she never ran out of the dressing rooms to go double fist glasses of booze only to come back and burn me with a hot straightener. Nor did she ever have blow out fights with the director in front of everyone. My mother was at every competition, was usually one of the most organized and prepared, and was always supportive of me in the best ways possible.
I couldn’t believe the “Maddie has two solos” drama. First of all, the point was made that Maddie had a standing private lesson for tap every week. Naturally, the kid is working extra hard, so it would make sense that the kid deserves two solos. When Christie had a conniption over the fact that her daughter Chloe did not have as many opportunities as Maddie, my question was why wasn’t she booking privates? Why wasn’t she finding extra studio space to get her daughter improving? If Christie wants to fight for her daughter’s opportunities, she should be fighting for the studio space and time. She shouldn’t be forcing another mother to limit her own daughter’s opportunities. Of course everyone deserves their time to shine, but look at Nia’s mom, Holly. She didn’t like the way things were going, so there she was in the hallway and dressing rooms with her little book of corrections she had during Nia’s private, working with Nia and discussing the corrections with her daughter. She was taking an active role in her daughter’s progression as a dancer. Yes, she did her own amount of complaining, but she backed herself up by taking the initiative in her daughter’s life. It paid off, too, because Nia went on to win first in her category. Christie should’ve taken a hint from that, and become involved.
I respect Abby as a teacher and an owner. I understand the mindset of someone who is at a self-proclaimed “world class” level. I admire how she puts her foot down, and does not waiver on her policies and rules. Of course she doesn’t always possess the tact of a charming figurehead, but when you’re faced with some of these parents, it’s only natural that you have to bring a stone face and harsh words. Being attacked by a mother is never fun, and I don’t blame Abby for getting defensive. Yes, she is a little crazy, and some of the stuff she does, as previously mentioned, is a little over the top. I love that presses technique upon the kids. That’s the one thing I can never ever say enough to my own students. I also respect that she does a lot of her own costuming. The fact that she can crank out so many dances, too, week after week is a great feat.
My concern with this show on tv is that it promotes the wrong image of competition studios. Not all studios put winning as the focus, and have a crazy studio director with catty, “Mean Girls” Moms. The grand majority of studios that I know of promote the LOVE of dance. They promote lasting friendships with their classmates, discipline and confidence, a safe and fun environment, and a caring and involved staff. Abby’s studio is being promoted as Crazytown, USA. Of course, the dance competition world is a little crazy, and it’s a different lifestyle than that of the kid who chooses soccer or art classes. It’s just not as crazy as Abby’s studio is portrayed as. It worries me that my own younger students will watch this show and see some of the things these kids do as okay. I worry that even recreational students will see that and think that their own studio’s competition teams are like that, and will shy away from wanting to be a part of it. I’m even worried about newer, younger teachers that have extraordinary gifts, but will watch the show, and shy away from competitive programs because they worry that that is what they will have to deal with.
As a dance teacher, and even as a past competitive dancer, I know that yes, some of these situations do happen, but they are not as dramatic as some of it is portrayed. I just hope that by laying out some of my opinions, people will read and realize that not all teachers and dance moms are crazy. I can even go so far as to say that I am lucky to be a part of a studio that has some extremely mild parents compared to these wild ones portrayed, and that the studio I am a teacher at promotes all the right things.
So the next time you watch Dance Moms, keep an open mind. And remember that personally, I’m watching it for the same reason I watch the Jersey Shore- it reminds me of how lucky I am, and it provides me with an entertaining hour of train-wreck like proportions.
So I have been putting off writing a blog entry about Dance Moms. Everyone I know asks if I watch it, so it’s only natural that I write about it. I just know, however, that writing about Dance Moms could become as controversial as the show itself.
Yes, I watch Dance Moms. It’s probably a horrible thing to admit being a dance teacher. However, I think that being a dance teacher gives me the ability to watch it from a knowledgeable stand point, and as an adult, I can watch it from a doubting standpoint. Some of Dance Moms is clearly real. The talent that these kids have is phenomenal. That comes from the discipline that they have learned at the Abby Lee Miller studio. It’s important to keep in mind, though, that it is still a “reality” tv show. This means, that half the situations are over-dramatized, and are even fueled by the producers.
The first thing that got to me about the show was the “win or you’re nothing” attitude. Between the posters on the walls (put up by the producers?) and the infamous Pyramid, it was a straight shot out of the gate for this show to promote some bad ideas. As dance teachers in the competitive world, you obviously want your students to excel and do their best. My students freak when they win high scores, and they get really excited when they exceed their own expectations for their dancing. I do that, though, by impressing technique upon them, encouraging them to go to every ballet class they can get their hands on, and working hard within their classes. I don’t pit these students against each other. By promoting a pyramid, Abby is encouraging the kids to become as catty as their mothers.
You can see it in the nine year old Maddie. She likes to say how she’s undefeated and she doesn’t get nervous because she’s so good. If any one of my students started to get that attitude, I would not be a happy camper. Most teachers goal is to promote camaraderie amongst groups so that they build good team work skills and good sportsmanship. It was so upsetting to me to see in the latest episode when a “rival” or “fan” of Maddie’s came up to talk to her in a friendly manner, and yet Maddie acted like a little snotty brat. Had I ever done that when I was competing back in the day, not only would my mother have had some harsh words with me, but so would my competition director and studio owner. Maddie has started to get a big head at a young age, and it’s causing jealousy and bad attitudes amongst the other kids.
I also don’t like the fact that Abby treats these nine year olds like they’re 18. I understand the concept behind trying to prepare these kids for the commercial world of dance, and helping them to become more independent people. At nine, though, this should not be something on these kids’ minds. Yes, they are on a “fast track” to a dance career, and they want to be the best, but at what cost? With the way that their schedules are described, they seem to only go to school and dance, with an emphasis on dance, and not on their education. This does not create a well-rounded individual, and can cause issues for when they become adults. Abby seems to have forgotten that while these kids want to become dancers, they won’t be able to be dancers forever. It’s particularly true if these kids are already experiencing injuries from their intense schedules. What’s going to happen to Brooke when she’s 22, dancing for a company, and tears something? Her career will be slowed down, if not over, at a very early age, and the poor girl won’t have the education behind her to back her up for another career.
Kids still need to be kids. I know from experience that dancers tend to be more independent and disciplined for their ages, but they still need the opportunities to go hang out with friends, or be part of the school band, or be involved with volunteer work, etc. Dancers need to be more than dancers- they need to have personalities and interests beyond the dance world. As they become older, they can choose to become more focused and work on their dancing, as opposed to have their focus be chosen for them at a very early age.
The dance mothers alone drive me nuts. The very first episode made me very grateful to have the mother that I did. My mom was a dance mom, but she never ran out of the dressing rooms to go double fist glasses of booze only to come back and burn me with a hot straightener. Nor did she ever have blow out fights with the director in front of everyone. My mother was at every competition, was usually one of the most organized and prepared, and was always supportive of me in the best ways possible.
I couldn’t believe the “Maddie has two solos” drama. First of all, the point was made that Maddie had a standing private lesson for tap every week. Naturally, the kid is working extra hard, so it would make sense that the kid deserves two solos. When Christie had a conniption over the fact that her daughter Chloe did not have as many opportunities as Maddie, my question was why wasn’t she booking privates? Why wasn’t she finding extra studio space to get her daughter improving? If Christie wants to fight for her daughter’s opportunities, she should be fighting for the studio space and time. She shouldn’t be forcing another mother to limit her own daughter’s opportunities. Of course everyone deserves their time to shine, but look at Nia’s mom, Holly. She didn’t like the way things were going, so there she was in the hallway and dressing rooms with her little book of corrections she had during Nia’s private, working with Nia and discussing the corrections with her daughter. She was taking an active role in her daughter’s progression as a dancer. Yes, she did her own amount of complaining, but she backed herself up by taking the initiative in her daughter’s life. It paid off, too, because Nia went on to win first in her category. Christie should’ve taken a hint from that, and become involved.
I respect Abby as a teacher and an owner. I understand the mindset of someone who is at a self-proclaimed “world class” level. I admire how she puts her foot down, and does not waiver on her policies and rules. Of course she doesn’t always possess the tact of a charming figurehead, but when you’re faced with some of these parents, it’s only natural that you have to bring a stone face and harsh words. Being attacked by a mother is never fun, and I don’t blame Abby for getting defensive. Yes, she is a little crazy, and some of the stuff she does, as previously mentioned, is a little over the top. I love that presses technique upon the kids. That’s the one thing I can never ever say enough to my own students. I also respect that she does a lot of her own costuming. The fact that she can crank out so many dances, too, week after week is a great feat.
My concern with this show on tv is that it promotes the wrong image of competition studios. Not all studios put winning as the focus, and have a crazy studio director with catty, “Mean Girls” Moms. The grand majority of studios that I know of promote the LOVE of dance. They promote lasting friendships with their classmates, discipline and confidence, a safe and fun environment, and a caring and involved staff. Abby’s studio is being promoted as Crazytown, USA. Of course, the dance competition world is a little crazy, and it’s a different lifestyle than that of the kid who chooses soccer or art classes. It’s just not as crazy as Abby’s studio is portrayed as. It worries me that my own younger students will watch this show and see some of the things these kids do as okay. I worry that even recreational students will see that and think that their own studio’s competition teams are like that, and will shy away from wanting to be a part of it. I’m even worried about newer, younger teachers that have extraordinary gifts, but will watch the show, and shy away from competitive programs because they worry that that is what they will have to deal with.
As a dance teacher, and even as a past competitive dancer, I know that yes, some of these situations do happen, but they are not as dramatic as some of it is portrayed. I just hope that by laying out some of my opinions, people will read and realize that not all teachers and dance moms are crazy. I can even go so far as to say that I am lucky to be a part of a studio that has some extremely mild parents compared to these wild ones portrayed, and that the studio I am a teacher at promotes all the right things.
So the next time you watch Dance Moms, keep an open mind. And remember that personally, I’m watching it for the same reason I watch the Jersey Shore- it reminds me of how lucky I am, and it provides me with an entertaining hour of train-wreck like proportions.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Boston Ballet's Night At the Hatch Shell
It was the last evening in August, and as the sun set behind the Hatch Shell in Boston, the air began to feel crisp with the sounds of Tchaikovsky's "Waltz of the Snowflakes" emanating from the stage. Yes, The Nutcracker was being played in August.
This is not so off, though, if you think about it. Today is September 1st, and Boston Ballet begins their Nutcracker season immediately after Thanksgiving, which is only 3 months off. However, my experience with this concert was not about the Nutcracker. It was about a first.
I was fortunate enough to witness and be a part of the audience of the first performance of the Boston Ballet outside at the Hatch Shell with a live orchestra (Boston's Landmark Orchestra). The orchestra performed works by Tchaikovsky and for certain pieces, Boston Ballet's principle dancers performed pas de deuxs, pas de trois, and pas de quatres across a stage that was built specifically for the event. Between pieces, the conductor gave tid bits about Tchaikovsky and the music, and even about the collaborations of the choreographers. It was a first for Boston, and I feel so special to have been able to have been a part.
I was amazed when I walked over the bridge at half an hour to the start, and 3/4 of the lawn was filled with people that had already staked their claims to grassy areas. People had blankets and food and drinks. It was incredible. I was unfortunately pretty far back, so I had to re-position myself constantly to get a good view, but it was absolutely worth it. The dancing by Boston Ballet was absolutely sublime. It wasn't perfect, and that's the teacher in me judging, but to have had the limited rehearsal time, and to have only met that stage earlier in the day, the performers were incredible. From the gorgeous port de bras of the ballerina who performed the Swan Lake pas de deux to the flexibility of the arabian dancer from The Nutcracker to the quirky character movements of the Puss N Boots dancers from Sleeping Beauty- all were phenomenal.
It was also lovely to be able to see the orchestra. At the ballet, more often than not, the orchestra is hidden from view since the dancing is the star. It was a nice change to watch as the string sections' bows bobbed and weaved furiously, and the brass section stayed stoically steadfast as they blasted their way through the finale of Swan Lake. I always love seeing the conductors as well. The passion of a conductor always comes out in front of an audience, and the orchestra's performance is always a tribute to his skills. In this case, Jonathan McPhee (who was actually a guest conductor of the Boston Landmarks Orchestra, and is Boston Ballet's Music Director and Principal Conductor) has mad skills.
As the music filtered out into the night air, I couldn't help but feel particularly content. It was the perfect Boston night with cool air, a divine orchestra, and a world-class ballet company. As a dancer, and a dance teacher, you can't ask for anything better. To be part of a first like that is something that I will never forget. I can only hope that they continue these concerts. The turn out was incredible, and it's a great way to expose people to a less commercial side of dance. It's a way, at least, for us girls to feel a little bit of sophistication in our daily lives.
Last night made me very excited for the Boston Ballet's upcoming season. I can't wait to get my tickets to the upcoming performances!
This is not so off, though, if you think about it. Today is September 1st, and Boston Ballet begins their Nutcracker season immediately after Thanksgiving, which is only 3 months off. However, my experience with this concert was not about the Nutcracker. It was about a first.
I was fortunate enough to witness and be a part of the audience of the first performance of the Boston Ballet outside at the Hatch Shell with a live orchestra (Boston's Landmark Orchestra). The orchestra performed works by Tchaikovsky and for certain pieces, Boston Ballet's principle dancers performed pas de deuxs, pas de trois, and pas de quatres across a stage that was built specifically for the event. Between pieces, the conductor gave tid bits about Tchaikovsky and the music, and even about the collaborations of the choreographers. It was a first for Boston, and I feel so special to have been able to have been a part.
I was amazed when I walked over the bridge at half an hour to the start, and 3/4 of the lawn was filled with people that had already staked their claims to grassy areas. People had blankets and food and drinks. It was incredible. I was unfortunately pretty far back, so I had to re-position myself constantly to get a good view, but it was absolutely worth it. The dancing by Boston Ballet was absolutely sublime. It wasn't perfect, and that's the teacher in me judging, but to have had the limited rehearsal time, and to have only met that stage earlier in the day, the performers were incredible. From the gorgeous port de bras of the ballerina who performed the Swan Lake pas de deux to the flexibility of the arabian dancer from The Nutcracker to the quirky character movements of the Puss N Boots dancers from Sleeping Beauty- all were phenomenal.
It was also lovely to be able to see the orchestra. At the ballet, more often than not, the orchestra is hidden from view since the dancing is the star. It was a nice change to watch as the string sections' bows bobbed and weaved furiously, and the brass section stayed stoically steadfast as they blasted their way through the finale of Swan Lake. I always love seeing the conductors as well. The passion of a conductor always comes out in front of an audience, and the orchestra's performance is always a tribute to his skills. In this case, Jonathan McPhee (who was actually a guest conductor of the Boston Landmarks Orchestra, and is Boston Ballet's Music Director and Principal Conductor) has mad skills.
As the music filtered out into the night air, I couldn't help but feel particularly content. It was the perfect Boston night with cool air, a divine orchestra, and a world-class ballet company. As a dancer, and a dance teacher, you can't ask for anything better. To be part of a first like that is something that I will never forget. I can only hope that they continue these concerts. The turn out was incredible, and it's a great way to expose people to a less commercial side of dance. It's a way, at least, for us girls to feel a little bit of sophistication in our daily lives.
Last night made me very excited for the Boston Ballet's upcoming season. I can't wait to get my tickets to the upcoming performances!
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Museum Inspiration
When I was in college, some of my favorite classes were my composition courses. It wasn’t just for the ability to explore new movements, but for finding ways to be inspired to create those new movements. One of my most memorable projects was creating a piece junior year by going to the Hartford Atheneum, picking out my favorite piece of artwork, and basing a 3 minute dance off of that. In a more conservative college setting, I was the girl who picked the Andy Warhol painting, chose Trans-Siberian Orchestra music, and choreographed a piece about views on death. It wound up being one of the most debated pieces that year. I loved that, because essentially as adult choreographers, isn’t that what we strive to do?
However, the point is not that I created a debatable piece, but that I found inspiration in a painting that very few thought even counted as a painting.
I love museums in general. I could probably go every week to museums and spend entire days in there and never get bored. Last week, I dragged my poor boyfriend through 2 of our favorite museums in the course of one day. He likes museums, too, but he also works in one, so the guy gets tired of them real quick. I’m very lucky to be able to live in an area where I have a museum down the street from me, and multiple museums only a half hour away in Boston. It gives me the opportunity to go whenever I feel the desire.
It’s amazing to me to be able to find certain rooms or artworks where I can sit in a gallery and just stare for hours, and feel completely immersed in its purpose. For example, when I went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, they had a gallery in the Art of the Americas wing based on George Washington. There was a MASSIVE (and by massive, I mean it took up a whole wall) painting of George Washington on a hill looking out over a battle. I don’t remember the name of the painting, or who painted it, but I stepped back from it, and just stared at it. I studied the expressions on the faces, and noticed the anguish on the soldiers’ faces. I began to wonder what George Washington was thinking at that moment, and how heavy his decisions must be weighing on his mind. I wondered if he was thinking about the well-being of his soldiers, or if he wasn’t thinking, and just soaking in the scene in the few seconds before charging into battle. For a moment, I could feel myself there in the excitement, sadness, glory, and anguish of a war.
When something like that happens, that begins my thought process for movement. In this particular artwork, I did not think of movement, since only 2 years ago I created a piece called “Battle Faces” and the feelings and emotions were the same evoked from the painting. However, there were plenty of other exhibits that sparked interest. From paintings of children sitting and/or playing in fields to the stoic reverence of the imitation of a Buddhist temple, I felt as though I could’ve plucked any of those ideas out of the museum and choreographed them for a stage. I became immersed in the universes of these moments captured by artists.
I love how my composition courses taught me to find inspiration in anything. The purpose of dance has evolved over centuries, but it has remained as an outlet of expression. Expression is something that we all experience on a moment by moment basis, so it is largely relatable. It also gives choreographers the accessibility to create anything from anything. Inspiration can come in the form of sitting in a museum, or it can come from watching a person walk down the street. Personally, I found inspiration in certain paintings at the museum. Some ideas I’ll spare my students from. Others, I can’t wait to get to work on!
Thanks to the Museum of Fine Arts Boston for the lovely experience!
However, the point is not that I created a debatable piece, but that I found inspiration in a painting that very few thought even counted as a painting.
I love museums in general. I could probably go every week to museums and spend entire days in there and never get bored. Last week, I dragged my poor boyfriend through 2 of our favorite museums in the course of one day. He likes museums, too, but he also works in one, so the guy gets tired of them real quick. I’m very lucky to be able to live in an area where I have a museum down the street from me, and multiple museums only a half hour away in Boston. It gives me the opportunity to go whenever I feel the desire.
It’s amazing to me to be able to find certain rooms or artworks where I can sit in a gallery and just stare for hours, and feel completely immersed in its purpose. For example, when I went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, they had a gallery in the Art of the Americas wing based on George Washington. There was a MASSIVE (and by massive, I mean it took up a whole wall) painting of George Washington on a hill looking out over a battle. I don’t remember the name of the painting, or who painted it, but I stepped back from it, and just stared at it. I studied the expressions on the faces, and noticed the anguish on the soldiers’ faces. I began to wonder what George Washington was thinking at that moment, and how heavy his decisions must be weighing on his mind. I wondered if he was thinking about the well-being of his soldiers, or if he wasn’t thinking, and just soaking in the scene in the few seconds before charging into battle. For a moment, I could feel myself there in the excitement, sadness, glory, and anguish of a war.
When something like that happens, that begins my thought process for movement. In this particular artwork, I did not think of movement, since only 2 years ago I created a piece called “Battle Faces” and the feelings and emotions were the same evoked from the painting. However, there were plenty of other exhibits that sparked interest. From paintings of children sitting and/or playing in fields to the stoic reverence of the imitation of a Buddhist temple, I felt as though I could’ve plucked any of those ideas out of the museum and choreographed them for a stage. I became immersed in the universes of these moments captured by artists.
I love how my composition courses taught me to find inspiration in anything. The purpose of dance has evolved over centuries, but it has remained as an outlet of expression. Expression is something that we all experience on a moment by moment basis, so it is largely relatable. It also gives choreographers the accessibility to create anything from anything. Inspiration can come in the form of sitting in a museum, or it can come from watching a person walk down the street. Personally, I found inspiration in certain paintings at the museum. Some ideas I’ll spare my students from. Others, I can’t wait to get to work on!
Thanks to the Museum of Fine Arts Boston for the lovely experience!
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Woman In the Mirror
Every dancer I’ve ever known has had a love-hate relationship with the mirror. On the positive, it serves as a great tool for students to fix corrections both in a singular manner, and as a group. On the negative it can provide a major distraction to adults and children alike. Older students tend to scrutinize their image, while the little kids tend to play with their hair or their leotards. How many of us, though, have had to come face to face with ourselves in the mirror as part of a combination?
I have.
In my previous blog, I described a improvisation class that involved learning a sequence of steps without music or counts. We were asked to use the emotion in the music to drive us. Part of what I did not describe for sake of space was having to run to separate walls in the room, then walking to the mirror and staring straight at ourselves. What I never imagined was what that would do to me.
When I danced, I was allowing a year’s worth of bad luck, bad situations, frustrations, and unpurged feelings to seep out into my movements. A lot of that, admittedly, also involved a situation dealing with a lack of self-esteem and confidence. After the teacher told us to trust ourselves and push our limits, it really hit home. Not just a realization, but a true hit-me-in-the-gut, pulled-at-my-heartstrings kind of feeling. To go from that on the dance floor, to suddenly facing it in the mirror brought tears to my eyes.
At first glance at myself in the mirror, I remember being taken aback by my face. It was contorted. My brows were furrowed, I was frowning, and my jaw was taught. It looked like I was about to cry. Granted, I felt like I was, but I couldn’t believe that my face was so telling. The next thing I noticed was that my breathing was labored. It wasn’t from physically being out of breath, but rather from the exertion of emotional energy. My final observation was my eyes. I previously mentioned in a blog about how the eyes are the gateway to the soul. My eyes showed so much pain and sadness, and that upset me. Maybe I was more troubled by these parts of my life than I had thought.
I didn’t realize it until the second time, until I really looked at my eyes again that the pain and sadness was being pushed out by confidence and hope. Yes, I was experiencing at that moment some lingering aspects of my life that had been less than satisfactory, but I was also experiencing the release of it to the point where I knew I would be able to move on. At that point, it allowed me to push myself even more, so in the final moments of class, I was able to shove the emotions OUT of my body and into the world.
To deal with that release after a year is almost like dealing with a loss of sorts. It’s no longer with you, therefore, a part of you that you have become accustomed to is not there. After that improvisation class, I was taking a ballet class. My emotions were still heavy until the second barre exercise. It was so hard to dig so deep, and then just let it go. By the end of the day, I was feeling fabulous again, and even better than before. That intense experience expelled all the bad in my life, and actually kept me on a natural high for at least a week after.
I just couldn’t believe how having to face oneself in a mirror could affect a person’s being so much. Not only did I emote out on the dance floor, but I was able to face those emotions head on, in quite a literal sense. The harmony between that dance and the mirror coincided perfectly. As Martha Graham said “Dance is the hidden language of the soul of the body” and the act of the mirror exemplified this.
My natural high may have worn off now, but the class, and the teacher, will be held in my memories and my heart forever.
I have.
In my previous blog, I described a improvisation class that involved learning a sequence of steps without music or counts. We were asked to use the emotion in the music to drive us. Part of what I did not describe for sake of space was having to run to separate walls in the room, then walking to the mirror and staring straight at ourselves. What I never imagined was what that would do to me.
When I danced, I was allowing a year’s worth of bad luck, bad situations, frustrations, and unpurged feelings to seep out into my movements. A lot of that, admittedly, also involved a situation dealing with a lack of self-esteem and confidence. After the teacher told us to trust ourselves and push our limits, it really hit home. Not just a realization, but a true hit-me-in-the-gut, pulled-at-my-heartstrings kind of feeling. To go from that on the dance floor, to suddenly facing it in the mirror brought tears to my eyes.
At first glance at myself in the mirror, I remember being taken aback by my face. It was contorted. My brows were furrowed, I was frowning, and my jaw was taught. It looked like I was about to cry. Granted, I felt like I was, but I couldn’t believe that my face was so telling. The next thing I noticed was that my breathing was labored. It wasn’t from physically being out of breath, but rather from the exertion of emotional energy. My final observation was my eyes. I previously mentioned in a blog about how the eyes are the gateway to the soul. My eyes showed so much pain and sadness, and that upset me. Maybe I was more troubled by these parts of my life than I had thought.
I didn’t realize it until the second time, until I really looked at my eyes again that the pain and sadness was being pushed out by confidence and hope. Yes, I was experiencing at that moment some lingering aspects of my life that had been less than satisfactory, but I was also experiencing the release of it to the point where I knew I would be able to move on. At that point, it allowed me to push myself even more, so in the final moments of class, I was able to shove the emotions OUT of my body and into the world.
To deal with that release after a year is almost like dealing with a loss of sorts. It’s no longer with you, therefore, a part of you that you have become accustomed to is not there. After that improvisation class, I was taking a ballet class. My emotions were still heavy until the second barre exercise. It was so hard to dig so deep, and then just let it go. By the end of the day, I was feeling fabulous again, and even better than before. That intense experience expelled all the bad in my life, and actually kept me on a natural high for at least a week after.
I just couldn’t believe how having to face oneself in a mirror could affect a person’s being so much. Not only did I emote out on the dance floor, but I was able to face those emotions head on, in quite a literal sense. The harmony between that dance and the mirror coincided perfectly. As Martha Graham said “Dance is the hidden language of the soul of the body” and the act of the mirror exemplified this.
My natural high may have worn off now, but the class, and the teacher, will be held in my memories and my heart forever.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Emotional Vs. Technical
Okay, confession time- I’m terrible about taking class. I know that it could help my career as a teacher, and can only benefit me as a dancer as well, but I’m really awful. Between my never-ending schedule of two main jobs, and always picking up little things when the opportunities arise, and my budget of trying to save, and my overall laziness without the luxury of a car, I tend to slack in that area. When the opportunity arose for me to take a few classes in the past two weeks through the studio I teach at, I jumped at it.
There are three classes that stood out in my mind- two of which are the topic of today’s blog. I happened to take two classes from two different guest teachers that were supposed to be similar in structure, but turned out completely different for me.
Both classes were improvisation based. They both started out similar- feeling the space in the room, and moving around in it in order to get a sense of where you were and how to use the space around you. Both teachers asked us to move in the space. There were two big differences between their approaches. In the first class, our eyes were open, and we were asked to move as different creatures about the room. The teacher would say “Now move as if you were a turtle!” So I moved as a turtle would- I balled myself up on the floor and took slow-motion steps. In the second class, we were asked to close our eyes, and feel where we were heading. We were asked to trust ourselves, and if we bumped into someone, we were to improv with them, moving and flowing with their bodies (at this point, I managed to hook someone’s neck in my arm. To that person- I apologize for partially choking you!).
The second half of both classes differed greatly. In the first one, we continued with a structured improv. We were broken into groups and asked to perform certain things- such as pausing for 5 seconds- while improving to and from the mirror. I loved this exercise. It worked for me because as a control freak, and a ballet teacher, I was able to freely move within the restrictions of rules. As I danced, I remember thinking about what I had to do. I remember thinking about how I had to move and thinking about what I had done after. I remember thinking about the technical aspects of the improvisation.
The second class worked much differently. We were taught a series of movements. It was not to counts or music. It was just steps that we learned in sequence. The teacher put on music (Adele! LOVE!) and told us that we could start whenever we wanted, moved however we wanted, and could improv with others if we were to come in contact. The teacher even came around and initiated contact and movement within specific dancers. What I remember the most from this class was the emotion that we were asked to feel. As dancers, we were asked to listen to the music’s message- being hurt by someone, but finding someone better. A year’s worth of my emotions, frustrations, and aggravations came out onto the dance floor. Heck, I almost cried (but I will talk about that specific experience in another blog). It was so powerful that it took me until the second barre exercise in ballet class afterwards to come out of that place.
Both of these classes were incredible, but it made me think about the aspects of emotional dancing versus technical dancing. Obviously technique is the basis for all dance. Otherwise, we’re just flopping around out on a stage. When we think as technical dancers, we think of the lines, the posture, the pointed toes, etc that we’re supposed to be doing. We think in a linear manner. “I must get from Point A to point B.” Our bodies and brains work in sync to create perfect positions and do what is asked of us. In the first teacher’s class, this is how I thought. I thought about how my body was moving and what it was doing for the specific exercise. I could probably tell you half of the moves I did, because even though I was letting my body drive me, my brain was still thinking about the movements.
Emotional dancing is very different. In emotional dancing, typically dancers do not think about the technical aspect of the dancing. Instead of “my body is contracting in a deep Graham position”, we as emotional dancers think “my body is contracting because I can feel it’s supposed to in my gut.” While I can remember some of the steps that were in the sequence of movement that we learned, I can tell you that I do not remember a lot of what I did when I improved. What I do remember is the feeling of release of pain that I had been harboring for over a year. Points A and B- don’t remember them. All I know is that the mood of the music took over my body , and I felt free to move.
I find it so intriguing that both classes had such similar ideas, but left the dancers with such different experiences. While both were improvisation based and designed to pull the students out of their comfort zones, one left me thinking and the other left me feeling. In the first class, I remember feeling pretty good and comfortable about the exercises. In the second class, it took me a while to warm up to the exercises. I enjoyed the first class, but the second left me with a lasting impression. Perhaps that is why I enjoyed the second one so much- I achieved a place of conquering that which did not feel comfortable. I overcame that sense of awkwardness and fell into my own skin.
This is the advantage of students being able to take from different teachers- they get more than one side of a particular genre. They are allowed to experience more than one way of teaching, which aides them later in life as to what they particularly enjoy most. This in turn helps them to decide which path they will prefer to take in the world of dance, if they so choose to pursue dance.
It also helps the teacher, like me, that gets caught up in life and doesn’t take class. To these teachers that I took from in the past couple of weeks- I thank you. You were inspirational, thought-provoking, and simply wonderful!
There are three classes that stood out in my mind- two of which are the topic of today’s blog. I happened to take two classes from two different guest teachers that were supposed to be similar in structure, but turned out completely different for me.
Both classes were improvisation based. They both started out similar- feeling the space in the room, and moving around in it in order to get a sense of where you were and how to use the space around you. Both teachers asked us to move in the space. There were two big differences between their approaches. In the first class, our eyes were open, and we were asked to move as different creatures about the room. The teacher would say “Now move as if you were a turtle!” So I moved as a turtle would- I balled myself up on the floor and took slow-motion steps. In the second class, we were asked to close our eyes, and feel where we were heading. We were asked to trust ourselves, and if we bumped into someone, we were to improv with them, moving and flowing with their bodies (at this point, I managed to hook someone’s neck in my arm. To that person- I apologize for partially choking you!).
The second half of both classes differed greatly. In the first one, we continued with a structured improv. We were broken into groups and asked to perform certain things- such as pausing for 5 seconds- while improving to and from the mirror. I loved this exercise. It worked for me because as a control freak, and a ballet teacher, I was able to freely move within the restrictions of rules. As I danced, I remember thinking about what I had to do. I remember thinking about how I had to move and thinking about what I had done after. I remember thinking about the technical aspects of the improvisation.
The second class worked much differently. We were taught a series of movements. It was not to counts or music. It was just steps that we learned in sequence. The teacher put on music (Adele! LOVE!) and told us that we could start whenever we wanted, moved however we wanted, and could improv with others if we were to come in contact. The teacher even came around and initiated contact and movement within specific dancers. What I remember the most from this class was the emotion that we were asked to feel. As dancers, we were asked to listen to the music’s message- being hurt by someone, but finding someone better. A year’s worth of my emotions, frustrations, and aggravations came out onto the dance floor. Heck, I almost cried (but I will talk about that specific experience in another blog). It was so powerful that it took me until the second barre exercise in ballet class afterwards to come out of that place.
Both of these classes were incredible, but it made me think about the aspects of emotional dancing versus technical dancing. Obviously technique is the basis for all dance. Otherwise, we’re just flopping around out on a stage. When we think as technical dancers, we think of the lines, the posture, the pointed toes, etc that we’re supposed to be doing. We think in a linear manner. “I must get from Point A to point B.” Our bodies and brains work in sync to create perfect positions and do what is asked of us. In the first teacher’s class, this is how I thought. I thought about how my body was moving and what it was doing for the specific exercise. I could probably tell you half of the moves I did, because even though I was letting my body drive me, my brain was still thinking about the movements.
Emotional dancing is very different. In emotional dancing, typically dancers do not think about the technical aspect of the dancing. Instead of “my body is contracting in a deep Graham position”, we as emotional dancers think “my body is contracting because I can feel it’s supposed to in my gut.” While I can remember some of the steps that were in the sequence of movement that we learned, I can tell you that I do not remember a lot of what I did when I improved. What I do remember is the feeling of release of pain that I had been harboring for over a year. Points A and B- don’t remember them. All I know is that the mood of the music took over my body , and I felt free to move.
I find it so intriguing that both classes had such similar ideas, but left the dancers with such different experiences. While both were improvisation based and designed to pull the students out of their comfort zones, one left me thinking and the other left me feeling. In the first class, I remember feeling pretty good and comfortable about the exercises. In the second class, it took me a while to warm up to the exercises. I enjoyed the first class, but the second left me with a lasting impression. Perhaps that is why I enjoyed the second one so much- I achieved a place of conquering that which did not feel comfortable. I overcame that sense of awkwardness and fell into my own skin.
This is the advantage of students being able to take from different teachers- they get more than one side of a particular genre. They are allowed to experience more than one way of teaching, which aides them later in life as to what they particularly enjoy most. This in turn helps them to decide which path they will prefer to take in the world of dance, if they so choose to pursue dance.
It also helps the teacher, like me, that gets caught up in life and doesn’t take class. To these teachers that I took from in the past couple of weeks- I thank you. You were inspirational, thought-provoking, and simply wonderful!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Eye Contact
When I was a freshman in high school, I was given the great honor of being asked to perform a solo in competitions. It was our first year competing seriously, and I got to do a sad lyrical piece. I got out on that stage and danced my little heart out. I was inexperienced and just starting out as a competitor, but it was wonderful.
Fast forward to when I received the critique tapes. I listened carefully and took into consideration every comment. Then there came one comment that threw me for a loop- “Dancer is not making eye contact. It shows a lack of confidence. You should really look at the judges.”
I turned to my mom at that point- “I was looking at them! I just couldn’t see them!” (I should probably mention here that I have been wearing glasses since the sixth grade, but always danced without them until I discovered contacts in college).
At that point in my dance career, it amazed me that eye contact could mean so much. Now, as a teacher, and a choreographer, I couldn’t imagine teaching without telling my students where their focus is and when to make eye contact.
A dancer’s focus within a piece is always a specific within the choreography. Sometimes we may look down in a moment to convey shyness. Sometimes we may contract our bodies but look up to convey pleading. Sometimes we may look directly forward and confront our audience. All of these different focuses have very different meanings, and must be carried out correctly.
Eye contact draws an audience in. It shows that a dancer is not just dancing in a room by themselves, or dancing for no reason. Eye contact invites an audience to see the dancer. It beckons them to immerse themselves in the dance’s purpose. It brings them into the world that the dancer is creating. Without eye contact, it can come across as aloof, or selfish, or in my case, a lack of confidence. It acknowledges the audience. It allows them to know that you know they’re there.
A lack of eye contact can also be frustrating because it takes away a sense of purpose in the movement. Say you are in a race. Your purpose is to cross the finish line ahead of others. If you are neck and neck with someone within the last few yards of that race you don’t start looking around at the crowd or the scenery, do you? You see the finish line, and you look straight towards it until you have finished. Your eyes don’t move. While a dance movement is not a race, it runs along the same principle. Your goal is to finish the movement. If you’re looking around, and not where you’re going, you lose your audience’s attention on the move. Not to mention you could completely botch the step. Thusly, eye contact not only gives purpose to the movement, but also to the dancer.
Herman Melville is quoted as saying “The eyes are the gateway to the soul.” As dancers, we are driven by our souls to perform what we have been given; to give life to the dance and present it to the audience. If our audiences cannot see our eyes, how do we expect them to see our souls? We need to open them as wide as we open our arms and allow the audience to soak in what we as dancers are graciously giving them. It cannot happen if we are looking at the floor when we dance (one of my pet peeves as a dance teacher) or looking around with wandering eyes.
Fast forward to when I received the critique tapes. I listened carefully and took into consideration every comment. Then there came one comment that threw me for a loop- “Dancer is not making eye contact. It shows a lack of confidence. You should really look at the judges.”
I turned to my mom at that point- “I was looking at them! I just couldn’t see them!” (I should probably mention here that I have been wearing glasses since the sixth grade, but always danced without them until I discovered contacts in college).
At that point in my dance career, it amazed me that eye contact could mean so much. Now, as a teacher, and a choreographer, I couldn’t imagine teaching without telling my students where their focus is and when to make eye contact.
A dancer’s focus within a piece is always a specific within the choreography. Sometimes we may look down in a moment to convey shyness. Sometimes we may contract our bodies but look up to convey pleading. Sometimes we may look directly forward and confront our audience. All of these different focuses have very different meanings, and must be carried out correctly.
Eye contact draws an audience in. It shows that a dancer is not just dancing in a room by themselves, or dancing for no reason. Eye contact invites an audience to see the dancer. It beckons them to immerse themselves in the dance’s purpose. It brings them into the world that the dancer is creating. Without eye contact, it can come across as aloof, or selfish, or in my case, a lack of confidence. It acknowledges the audience. It allows them to know that you know they’re there.
A lack of eye contact can also be frustrating because it takes away a sense of purpose in the movement. Say you are in a race. Your purpose is to cross the finish line ahead of others. If you are neck and neck with someone within the last few yards of that race you don’t start looking around at the crowd or the scenery, do you? You see the finish line, and you look straight towards it until you have finished. Your eyes don’t move. While a dance movement is not a race, it runs along the same principle. Your goal is to finish the movement. If you’re looking around, and not where you’re going, you lose your audience’s attention on the move. Not to mention you could completely botch the step. Thusly, eye contact not only gives purpose to the movement, but also to the dancer.
Herman Melville is quoted as saying “The eyes are the gateway to the soul.” As dancers, we are driven by our souls to perform what we have been given; to give life to the dance and present it to the audience. If our audiences cannot see our eyes, how do we expect them to see our souls? We need to open them as wide as we open our arms and allow the audience to soak in what we as dancers are graciously giving them. It cannot happen if we are looking at the floor when we dance (one of my pet peeves as a dance teacher) or looking around with wandering eyes.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
You Say Tomato: Thoughts On Sibling Rivalry
*My sister and I summer of 2010. Kinda explains it all.
Dance is a world full of competition. Whether you are competing for prime roles in major ballets, competing for the front spot in your dance team, or just competing with yourself to get your battements higher, there is always that sense of trying to beat someone out. That competition only gets harder when you are competing with…a sibling.
Growing up, I had a lot of friends with siblings, and they always seemed to be opposites of each other. One was quiet, while one was loud. One was into sports, the other art. One was popular, one was not. This stereotype even held true to me and my own sister. While I was the studious good girl who was involved in church groups and couldn’t care less about my poofy frizzy hair, my sister was the primped up popular kid who spent her nights partying and her days sleeping through school. Somehow, with these opposite personalities, we both found our niche in dance.
Not too long ago, I read the autobiography of Fred Astaire “Steps in Time” that had been originally published in 1959. While knowing of Fred Astaire, and falling in love with his many movies co-starring with Ginger Rogers, I was surprised to learn of his sister Adele. I was also surprised to learn that she had been a famous dancer, as well. The only difference was that Adele had been more of a vaudeville star, while Fred had stepped into the movie business.
Mr. Astaire spoke adoringly of his sister. She was the older of the two, and yet while there were many small jokes and digs at Adele, Fred always managed to speak of her respectfully, as if she had been the movie star. Fred contributed much of his early success in the vaudeville circuit to his sister, but one has to wonder- how much sibling rivalry was there? Particularly in the 50’s, it was not looked upon favorably to speak ill of one’s family, so it makes me wonder how many spats they actually had.
I even see it among my own students. As a dance teacher, you get to see many dancers grow, and you also get to see their younger siblings come in and get excited about following in their big sister or brother’s shoes. When they finally start dancing in the same circuits, you also get to see them either get along famously, or fight like cats and dogs.
My sister and I were the students that fought like cats and dogs. Sis and I are five years apart, but even so, when the competitive teams formed my freshmen year of high school, there were only so many levels. While I was in one of the top teams, my sister was in one of the younger. I even helped assist one of her classes (with a very fond memory of being left alone with them one day and having to scream at her and her best friend… They were fondly nicknamed “Monster and Munchkin”). We did not often dance together, but in my sophomore year of high school, it was suggested we do a duo. I can remember many rehearsals where our mother brought us into the studio to practice, and my dearly patient mother yelling at us to practice the lift again so that my sister would put her foot in the right place and I wouldn’t purposely drop her on her head. We did win the Top Duo award at a summer competition that year, but my sister and I never did a duo. Ever again.
At only two other points do I remember us dancing together. In my senior year, we did an all-competitive team dance to “Because We Can” from Moulin Rouge, and in that same year, we needed a couple of fill-ins for when we went to Nationals, and my sister and 2 others filled in the spots. While I don’t specifically remember if there were any conflicts within these dances, I know we stuck to our own groups of friends, and tried not to admit too much that we were related.
Other than choreographing a jazz solo for her a couple of years later, my sister and I have not crossed paths dance-wise. She DID however, wind up at the same university as I did for a dance major. By the time she graduated this year, though, there were only a handful of teachers still there that even knew who I was.
Through all our experiences together, there was always a sense of sibling rivalry. The best way to describe it is that my sister and I, while both very good dancers, had very different styles, and very different backgrounds. While I didn’t get to start competing until I was 14, my sister was 9 when she started. She won titles, while I never came close. She was a style-ized dancer with an earlier, stricter training, and a bit of a crazy personality. I was the technical dancer who blossomed as she got older, and was very shy until I hit the stage. There have been times when I’ve admittedly been jealous of my sister, but I’m sure there have been times when my sister has envied what I’ve had (though my sister being who she is would NEVER admit that to anyone!).
I am now starting to find that my sister and I are beginning to cross paths again. While I am personally trying to reignite my dance/teaching career, my sister is just beginning hers with her recent graduation from the University of Hartford. We want to take similar dance classes, and that is leading her to auditions, which is leading her to ask me to come along. The only problem is- what happens when one of us gets the job, and the other does not?
Now, my sister and I would be able to handle it, but I’ve seen plenty of sibling duos that I don’t think would easily take that competition. I have seen younger siblings that idolize their older counterparts, but have gotten the parts that they wanted, and watched the foundations of their relationships crack. I think it’s the toughest in any performing arts. To dance is to love. You must have an undying passion for dance to make it as your career. When one’s passion is being compared against their closest DNA match, and often their friend, hearts can be broken. At the same time, that sibling bond can be your biggest boost, your biggest inspiration, and your biggest support system. To have someone so close to you understand that love, and what it means to “put it all out there” is a gift.
Personally, while I have had my bouts with my sister, she is my biggest inspiration. She is an innovative choreographer. I haven’t seen much of her as a dancer, but what I have seen- she is good. She pushes me to be better, and to be on top of my game. We don’t always get along, particularly with being in such different places in our lives, but I love the kid with all my heart.
I can only hope that other dancers with siblings can find that love and shared passion in their own lives. It has helped connect me and my sister (otherwise, our friendship may have been lost years ago), and can help others share a bond. I look forward to possible future endeavors with my sister, and I even hope that we continue with our minor sibling rivalry so that I never lose that desire to be better.
So to Fred Astaire who joked of his sister, but never lost his adoration of her- I tip my hat to you, sir, in full understanding.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The Great Choreo Capers
Last week, the warm weather started rolling in. Bright sunshine, temperatures in the 70’s, outdoor patios opening up and tops down on convertibles. The other sign of summer? The premier of So You Think You Can Dance!
However, with the opening night has already come a controversy. Brothers Deon and Damon were featured as being a quirky duo with charm up the wazoo. The judges were delighted by their humorous performance and their fun personalities. They were given tickets straight to Vegas, which anyone who watches the show knows is the main goal.
What the judges did not know is that their “choreography” was not so original. Many people after watching the first episode began to spread a video that put Deon and Damon against a duo only listed as “the Les Twins”. Side by side videos of both pairs were shown doing choreography that was almost identical in nature, besides a few tweaks here and there. At the end, the video publicly denounces Deon and Damon for “stealing” choreography, and asks that everyone spreads the images so that they can be kicked off the show.
This video has sparked a controversy not just within the public that knew the videos, but from So You Think You Can Dance’s own All-Stars. D-trix and Neill started debating over whether taking the choreography was right. D-trix claimed it was frowned upon in the hip hop world. Neill claimed that it was similar to ballet- the same choreography has been passed down from company to company over the years.
Personally, I can understand both sides of the argument. It’s not appropriate to put unoriginal choreography on tv. However, at the same time, they are not being judged on their choreography, but rather their dancing. I would say that maybe they explained it to the judges at some point, but Nigel Lythgoe, the executive producer and beloved judge, even posted on his twitter that he wished the brothers had told them the choreography was not their own. Perhaps it was not their intention to “rip off” choreography. They say that copying is the sincerest form of flattery, right? So wouldn’t this be the case?
But how do the Les Twins feel about this? The videos have been posted by others on their Facebook page. It is not mentioned whether or not they are actually aware of it (they are also French, so a lot of the page is in French!). Is it possible for them to sue Damon and Deon? Is it possible for them to sue the television network?
What bothers me most about this is that this will make it harder for the show So You Think You Can Dance. Instead of just pulling together reels of dancers and putting together audition segments, they will now most likely have to cross-reference all the choreography to make sure that it is original. But then that brings up another thought- many of these younger dancers are part of the competition scene. They are getting their solos from big name choreographers, and showing it throughout the competition circuit. Would that count as “unoriginal” choreography?
I do believe that while the viral video was good to make the public aware of what happened, it is not appropriate for them to get kicked off the show. They did get here based on their own merits. With not being judged on choreography, their personalities were their own, and their style was their own. While they may not have done it the right way, they still EARNED their way to Vegas (not to mention the couple rounds of improvisation that is required before any dancer even gets to show their solo!). If they are not on the show by the time it gets down to the wire in Vegas, then perhaps they will learn for next time. If they are there, then clearly they have proven that they are meant to be on that stage. With every mistake must come some understanding, even within the dance world.
I do not condone what the brothers did, nor am I backing the idea of kicking them off the show. My intention is merely to get everyone thinking. How right is it? Should So You Think You Can Dance make a formal apology? Should the Les Twins speak up about it? It’s interesting to contemplate, and I’m sure that everyone has their own opinion on it!
However, with the opening night has already come a controversy. Brothers Deon and Damon were featured as being a quirky duo with charm up the wazoo. The judges were delighted by their humorous performance and their fun personalities. They were given tickets straight to Vegas, which anyone who watches the show knows is the main goal.
What the judges did not know is that their “choreography” was not so original. Many people after watching the first episode began to spread a video that put Deon and Damon against a duo only listed as “the Les Twins”. Side by side videos of both pairs were shown doing choreography that was almost identical in nature, besides a few tweaks here and there. At the end, the video publicly denounces Deon and Damon for “stealing” choreography, and asks that everyone spreads the images so that they can be kicked off the show.
This video has sparked a controversy not just within the public that knew the videos, but from So You Think You Can Dance’s own All-Stars. D-trix and Neill started debating over whether taking the choreography was right. D-trix claimed it was frowned upon in the hip hop world. Neill claimed that it was similar to ballet- the same choreography has been passed down from company to company over the years.
Personally, I can understand both sides of the argument. It’s not appropriate to put unoriginal choreography on tv. However, at the same time, they are not being judged on their choreography, but rather their dancing. I would say that maybe they explained it to the judges at some point, but Nigel Lythgoe, the executive producer and beloved judge, even posted on his twitter that he wished the brothers had told them the choreography was not their own. Perhaps it was not their intention to “rip off” choreography. They say that copying is the sincerest form of flattery, right? So wouldn’t this be the case?
But how do the Les Twins feel about this? The videos have been posted by others on their Facebook page. It is not mentioned whether or not they are actually aware of it (they are also French, so a lot of the page is in French!). Is it possible for them to sue Damon and Deon? Is it possible for them to sue the television network?
What bothers me most about this is that this will make it harder for the show So You Think You Can Dance. Instead of just pulling together reels of dancers and putting together audition segments, they will now most likely have to cross-reference all the choreography to make sure that it is original. But then that brings up another thought- many of these younger dancers are part of the competition scene. They are getting their solos from big name choreographers, and showing it throughout the competition circuit. Would that count as “unoriginal” choreography?
I do believe that while the viral video was good to make the public aware of what happened, it is not appropriate for them to get kicked off the show. They did get here based on their own merits. With not being judged on choreography, their personalities were their own, and their style was their own. While they may not have done it the right way, they still EARNED their way to Vegas (not to mention the couple rounds of improvisation that is required before any dancer even gets to show their solo!). If they are not on the show by the time it gets down to the wire in Vegas, then perhaps they will learn for next time. If they are there, then clearly they have proven that they are meant to be on that stage. With every mistake must come some understanding, even within the dance world.
I do not condone what the brothers did, nor am I backing the idea of kicking them off the show. My intention is merely to get everyone thinking. How right is it? Should So You Think You Can Dance make a formal apology? Should the Les Twins speak up about it? It’s interesting to contemplate, and I’m sure that everyone has their own opinion on it!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
For the Love of Dance
I missed a whole dance season here!
I apologize for not keeping up with this. Summer season is here, though, and I will have plenty of time to contemplate and update and introduce, etc.
The studio which I work for just had their recitals this past weekend. It’s always a unique experience for me, because not only do I get to work with all the students within the studio, but I get to see my own students put all their hard work onto the stage!
After the first of four (yes four!) recitals of the weekend, one of my competitive students came up to me backstage. She and a couple other girls asked if the number looked good. I told them it was one of the best times I’d ever seen their dance. The girl looked at me and said that it was the first time in a long time that she had had fun dancing. “I think it’s because I wasn’t worried about competition.” The other girls with her agreed. This got me thinking.
It made me a little sad to know that these kids, while loving dance, and enjoying being a competitive dancer, weren’t fully experiencing it. While yes, these students ARE competitive, and they ARE supposed to be working on their technique and perfecting their lines and turns and jumps, these students are also supposed to be learning to balance the fun with the hard work. This made me realize that even though my studio is tough on these kids, maybe I personally don’t remind them enough about the passion (and now I realize, maybe I don’t remind MYSELF enough about the passion).
Martha Graham (a pioneer and huge influence of the modern dance world, and an idol of mine) once said “Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion.” As both a teacher and dancer, I know all too well that we often forget about the passion. It is the passion of dance that drives us to attending hours of classes each week that we emerge from with bloodied toes, aching joints, and sore muscles. It is the passion of dance that drives us to take the yelling of our teachers that we didn’t hit that triple turn for the umpteenth time. It is the passion of dance that brings us back to the classroom after we clumsily fell onstage during a competition number that most likely knocked the platinum-level dance down to a high gold. It is the inner passion that drives us. But we often overlook it, based on sheer discipline.
Dancers are essentially masochists. We allow others to beat us up, and we beat ourselves up. I have a student who proudly shows me bruises when she’s fallen hard on a great move to the floor. Non-dancers would not boast of something like that. Why would we do this? It is not the pride of the injury, but rather the pride of the perseverance that got us to overcome the bruises to master the step that caused it. As dancers, our teachers push us to that point of blood, sweat, and tears. As teachers, we push our students so they can know the sweet taste of the fruit of their labors.
However, what kind of teachers are we that we don’t remind these students of their LOVE for it? At our studio, the competition kids get a pizza party for one of their last classes. It’s a break from all the dancing before they go into recitals and finish the year off on a good note. For one of my older kids’ last jazz/lyric class, I gave them a jazzy/contemporary-esque style combination to get them to relax and have fun. One girl even said “I wish we had a combo class that we could go to every week, just to have fun.” Sometimes to remind the kids of their passion and love, we have to let them have fun and relax. Why not just let them dance?
The girl that approached me backstage reminded me that these kids are still kids. When they go onstage, they are still students. As they perform their entrance, they typically are thinking of what they need to do. “Smile bigger here,” “Straighten your knees in this leap,” “Use my spot for the triple pirouette.” They become so engrossed in what they NEED to do that they aren’t just simply DANCING. They are too concerned with the people in front of them that are marking down their scores. This is why I love recitals. They get to be reminded that they have friends and family that are there to just watch them dance. Their audience is there to watch them enjoy themselves.
Students don’t always realize, as well, that judges like to see students who love dancing. I acted as a judge for a competition this past season, and the ones who seemed to really enjoy themselves stood out in my mind. One can tell a huge difference between the girl with technique who is mentally in a place of what she is doing, or what she is about to do, and the girl with technique who is just out there to DANCE. Most people don’t realize that it shows an immense amount of difference.
Now, I am certainly not knocking competitive dancing. It is the main focus of the studio I work at, and it is SUCH a good tool to bring out the best dancer in some kids. I was a competitive dancer myself, and it helped me come out of my shell in more ways than I can explain. All I am merely trying to point out is that sometimes we need to bring kids out of their element to remember how much they love what they do. No one student walks into a competitive program with the expectation of it being easy. They need to love it, and need to have that unbridled desire to dance. It is that PASSION that brings them to the hard part, and the PASSION that pushes them to see it all the way through to the end.
I can only hope that many of these students keep that passion within them for the rest of their lives. Dance is never an easy road, and they have to remember why they do it, or else when they falter, or obstacles present themselves, they may not be able to overcome.
On another note, I need to remind myself that this is a passion of mine. As I get older, life can get in the way, and sometimes obstacles become harder to get over. Even recently, as my sister is auditioning for companies, and trying to get me to come along, I shy away from the idea merely because I see my shortcomings as obstacles. However, I am trying to pull myself together and get over those fears of not being able to hold my own. I have recently been working on my own ways to remind myself that this is what I’ve loved doing since I was five, and what I’ve known I’ve wanted to do for my career since I was seven. From reading dance books, to taking class, to keeping up on my dance blog (hint hint to self!), these are all things that excite me and remind me why I can’t live without dance.
So to summarize- sometimes we become too caught up in the technique to remember the beauty of what we do. We are our passion, and we need to be reminded, and remind ourselves, of our love affair with dance. Of course, as a teacher, it is my own personal responsibility to share that with my students.
Note: I am in no way criticizing the teachings or style of teachings of ANYONE. These are solely my thoughts on the topic, and merely contemplative in nature. It is not meant to offend or critique or downplay any one way of teaching or learning. Please keep this in mind.
I apologize for not keeping up with this. Summer season is here, though, and I will have plenty of time to contemplate and update and introduce, etc.
The studio which I work for just had their recitals this past weekend. It’s always a unique experience for me, because not only do I get to work with all the students within the studio, but I get to see my own students put all their hard work onto the stage!
After the first of four (yes four!) recitals of the weekend, one of my competitive students came up to me backstage. She and a couple other girls asked if the number looked good. I told them it was one of the best times I’d ever seen their dance. The girl looked at me and said that it was the first time in a long time that she had had fun dancing. “I think it’s because I wasn’t worried about competition.” The other girls with her agreed. This got me thinking.
It made me a little sad to know that these kids, while loving dance, and enjoying being a competitive dancer, weren’t fully experiencing it. While yes, these students ARE competitive, and they ARE supposed to be working on their technique and perfecting their lines and turns and jumps, these students are also supposed to be learning to balance the fun with the hard work. This made me realize that even though my studio is tough on these kids, maybe I personally don’t remind them enough about the passion (and now I realize, maybe I don’t remind MYSELF enough about the passion).
Martha Graham (a pioneer and huge influence of the modern dance world, and an idol of mine) once said “Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion.” As both a teacher and dancer, I know all too well that we often forget about the passion. It is the passion of dance that drives us to attending hours of classes each week that we emerge from with bloodied toes, aching joints, and sore muscles. It is the passion of dance that drives us to take the yelling of our teachers that we didn’t hit that triple turn for the umpteenth time. It is the passion of dance that brings us back to the classroom after we clumsily fell onstage during a competition number that most likely knocked the platinum-level dance down to a high gold. It is the inner passion that drives us. But we often overlook it, based on sheer discipline.
Dancers are essentially masochists. We allow others to beat us up, and we beat ourselves up. I have a student who proudly shows me bruises when she’s fallen hard on a great move to the floor. Non-dancers would not boast of something like that. Why would we do this? It is not the pride of the injury, but rather the pride of the perseverance that got us to overcome the bruises to master the step that caused it. As dancers, our teachers push us to that point of blood, sweat, and tears. As teachers, we push our students so they can know the sweet taste of the fruit of their labors.
However, what kind of teachers are we that we don’t remind these students of their LOVE for it? At our studio, the competition kids get a pizza party for one of their last classes. It’s a break from all the dancing before they go into recitals and finish the year off on a good note. For one of my older kids’ last jazz/lyric class, I gave them a jazzy/contemporary-esque style combination to get them to relax and have fun. One girl even said “I wish we had a combo class that we could go to every week, just to have fun.” Sometimes to remind the kids of their passion and love, we have to let them have fun and relax. Why not just let them dance?
The girl that approached me backstage reminded me that these kids are still kids. When they go onstage, they are still students. As they perform their entrance, they typically are thinking of what they need to do. “Smile bigger here,” “Straighten your knees in this leap,” “Use my spot for the triple pirouette.” They become so engrossed in what they NEED to do that they aren’t just simply DANCING. They are too concerned with the people in front of them that are marking down their scores. This is why I love recitals. They get to be reminded that they have friends and family that are there to just watch them dance. Their audience is there to watch them enjoy themselves.
Students don’t always realize, as well, that judges like to see students who love dancing. I acted as a judge for a competition this past season, and the ones who seemed to really enjoy themselves stood out in my mind. One can tell a huge difference between the girl with technique who is mentally in a place of what she is doing, or what she is about to do, and the girl with technique who is just out there to DANCE. Most people don’t realize that it shows an immense amount of difference.
Now, I am certainly not knocking competitive dancing. It is the main focus of the studio I work at, and it is SUCH a good tool to bring out the best dancer in some kids. I was a competitive dancer myself, and it helped me come out of my shell in more ways than I can explain. All I am merely trying to point out is that sometimes we need to bring kids out of their element to remember how much they love what they do. No one student walks into a competitive program with the expectation of it being easy. They need to love it, and need to have that unbridled desire to dance. It is that PASSION that brings them to the hard part, and the PASSION that pushes them to see it all the way through to the end.
I can only hope that many of these students keep that passion within them for the rest of their lives. Dance is never an easy road, and they have to remember why they do it, or else when they falter, or obstacles present themselves, they may not be able to overcome.
On another note, I need to remind myself that this is a passion of mine. As I get older, life can get in the way, and sometimes obstacles become harder to get over. Even recently, as my sister is auditioning for companies, and trying to get me to come along, I shy away from the idea merely because I see my shortcomings as obstacles. However, I am trying to pull myself together and get over those fears of not being able to hold my own. I have recently been working on my own ways to remind myself that this is what I’ve loved doing since I was five, and what I’ve known I’ve wanted to do for my career since I was seven. From reading dance books, to taking class, to keeping up on my dance blog (hint hint to self!), these are all things that excite me and remind me why I can’t live without dance.
So to summarize- sometimes we become too caught up in the technique to remember the beauty of what we do. We are our passion, and we need to be reminded, and remind ourselves, of our love affair with dance. Of course, as a teacher, it is my own personal responsibility to share that with my students.
Note: I am in no way criticizing the teachings or style of teachings of ANYONE. These are solely my thoughts on the topic, and merely contemplative in nature. It is not meant to offend or critique or downplay any one way of teaching or learning. Please keep this in mind.
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