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!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
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!
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