From the Vault: Of "Right" and "Wrong:" the headgames of dance

 

This post was originally published on the Al-hambra Dance Company page via Facebook Notes in 2020. Due to the demise of the Facebook Notes function, it is re-published here.

Since the posting of this article, ATS® dance has been renamed FCBD® Style dance and the word "tribal" has been phased out of the dance.

This particular post highlights a behavior prevalent in the FCBD® Style dance world that values control and purity of the dance. The behavior causes members to be quick to judge, exclude and excoriate anyone who violates norms, thus creating a community dependent upon judgment and fearful of individual expression or critical observation.

Of "Right" and "Wrong:" the headgames of dance

Recently, discussion over “right” and “wrong” posture in ATS® just spun out into hot debate. Much has already been said about it, but I am taking this opportunity to state my own perspective as an ATS® teacher who certainly likes and upholds standards, but quite frankly, thinks there is a time and a place for a focus on minutia. The photo above is an homage to that debate: what do you think about the arms? Beautiful, or stilted and unnatural? More on that later...

In all the forms of dance that I have studied, there has always been discussion of the “right” or “wrong” way to execute a move, but none has been so debated with the level of fanaticism as I have found in ATS®. To execute an ATS® move “wrongly” has been elevated to a capital crime despite countless performances every day of ATS® executed in a variety of interpretations of “right” that nonetheless result in scintillating, jubilant, synchronous acts of beauty that delight audiences and bring joy and satisfaction to ATS® practitioners. Social media feeds and ATS® classes are filled with eager dancers pressing dance teachers for the “right” move, scrutinizing fragments of a video to parse decontextualized moments of improv, insisting upon exactness at the expense of any other aspect of the dance, and even arguing with one teacher over another teacher’s different interpretation. One teacher’s attempt to bring a little beauty and instruction, rather than being taken simply for what it is, can be met with an onslaught of criticism. A zealous pursuit of exactness can result in disrespect for our dance teachers and a total misunderstanding of the point of the dance, not to mention being exhausting wastes of everybody’s time and brain space. After all, if you’re constantly worried about whether you’re doing it right or wrong, who does your dance belong to?

I get why it happens: the only way to learn ATS® in the old days was to send away for the VHS tapes, which later became available on PAL/SECAM and later by DVD, then finally via mp4, Patreon, and good old YouTube. ATS®, like any other language spoken by humans, migrated and traveled, and in doing so fell victim to the diaspora effect whereby the language in the diaspora retains features of the original language and does not grow and change, while the language in the location of origin does grow and change, eventually to the point where the two are distinguishable as different. With the advent of the internet, these differences became more apparent and caused people to feel disconnected, left behind, or wondering whose dance had more quality. Naturally, this led people to seek out perfection as paramount, leaving the communicative enjoyment to come after the steps were crystallized.

Let’s take a moment and reflect on the words of one of the finest dancers modern dance has known:
I do not try to dance better than anyone else. I only try to dance better than myself.
- Mikhail Baryshnikov

My own philosophy of teaching dance is taken directly from my own inspirations of ATS® described to me by my teachers as a shape-driven dance. Shapes imprint into the memory; they create context and narrative, and they can be reinforced by judicious placement at a point in the music where the point is driven home. This is what I believe we should be striving for. Note, I said striving. Dance is never a finished product; it is an endless continuum of stories, images, trends, and ideals, and because those things are created by humans, they shift over time. We are always growing and changing our dance, just like the language you spoke as a child and a teenager is radically different from the language you speak today as an adult. Over time, you develop patterns, rules, and expressions, you discard others, and you move on with your life.

Dance is more than a perfect step. Dance is a conversation you have with an audience. Your only goal should be to impact the audience; absolutely nothing else matters. Without the audience, the dance does not exist; it certainly may still have value as a meditation, or a practice, or a therapy, or a musing, but it is not dance in the sense that it is appreciated as such; the audience, not you, owns the role of appreciator. And the garden-variety audience usually doesn’t give a crap about perfection; what they want is to feel something. If you are a perfect little robot on stage, executing each move with uncanny perfection, and all your troupemates look exactly like you, but if you’ve left the audience cold, you have not done your job. And I can’t tell you how often I am left cold by a performance that strives for perfection above passion. As a dancer, I’m deeply impressed by perfect execution when I see it, but as an audience member, it’s passion that keeps me riveted to the dance, whether it is accompanied by perfection or not.

Do you dance only for other dancers and dancers’ approval, or to bring art and joy to the general public? Either is a valid choice. There are times where I want to impress my fellow dance brothers and sisters, and I certainly work like hell to perfect my chops, but for my identity as a dancer, I do not want to be known as a perfection-generating automaton. I want to produce art and make someone feel something. So, those arms in the photo up above? I have gotten a ton of compliments on them, but only by ATS® dancers. Anyone else says “What the hell are you doing with your arms?” or “Is that even comfortable?” and “I don’t even think my arm bends that way” (um...it does). If that’s all the audience can say after you pour your art out on stage, something is missing.

Hitting a mark of perfection in the right context at the right time is often fleeting, which is what makes it so precious and beautiful. We strive for that, and we should. Hitting a mark of perfection in the wrong context (absent of passion) and at the wrong time (for an unsophisticated audience) can get completely missed, and thus disappears into the ether. It gets relegated to an obscure YouTube video that doesn’t get the number of hits you thought it would get (and I’ve got a lot of those). Perfection only goes so far; it is passion and connection with other beings that stays in the mind and heart.

By all means, focus on perfection: but do it for yourself. Focus on making your own dance more communicative, more resonant for your audience, more joyous for your troupe, and more satisfying for yourself. Drill the hell out of steps that you want to execute well, and continue to emulate the dancers you love and admire. Work out every day. Listen to music that inspires movement, creativity, and storytelling. Take a million classes and workshops, and listen and learn with an open heart to different interpretations of the dance - taking what adds to your dance, and leaving what doesn’t. Focus on sparking connection with your dance partners, on trusting them to be in the moment with you, and building their trust in you to do the same. In this manner, a passionate practice can produce the perfection that comes from creating the impact you desire.