Day-Write #2

January 25, 2010

Dancing by yourself in an extremely public space (on the corner of High and 15th near Jimmy Johns, a very traveled area) is terrifying. You feel this pressure telling you what you're doing - sort of detailing out in your mind what your actions are within society's walls. Or rather, what you're doing and how it ranks in the scheme of things you can and can't do. Trying to describe to your conscious self that what you're about to do is going to be this, this, this and this - embarrassing - within the eyes of others...
Even while I was dancing I felt that pressure. For me, once the process begins that fear often diminishes. Yet I constantly felt the eyes and thoughts of others coming down on me, what they might be thinking, the words of ridicule and judgment going through their mind, and whether or not they feel positively or negatively about what I'm doing.

Compare this with the experience of dancing in everyday places with others, and it's an entirely different story. Why that is, I don't really know for sure. It makes sense to my mind that it is because I have back up in a group "These other people are doing it too so it's ok. Multiple people approve, so it's OK!!" Power in numbers. But when you're by yourself, it's all on you. All the pressure is pushing down, and only you are there to hold it up. You have to decide whether or not you care. Physically nothing is happening to you, no real pressure is there, nobody watching is actually doing anything tangible to me, so you have to decide whether or not to imagine that pressure. Choose whether or not to feel embarrassed.


Why is it scary to go beyond what's already been approved? Going into the unknown...the mysterious.

Day-Write #1

As part of the work on my senior "Guerrilla Dance" project, I am going to regularly be blogging about my day to day experiences within the project. These will be very casual, sort of free writes more than anything. Here's iteration one of that process.

January 22, 2010

The energy felt when another dancer is completely released from any sort of pre-conceived notion or pressure, it's completely contagious and inspiring. I've noticed that I tend to not have that reaction unless someone is not a technically trained dancer. Not always the case, but in the most extreme circumstances, it is for me. Infectious energy. What is that? Life? Something inherent in dance that needs to be unlocked by each individual in their own way, or simply an expression of some sentiment that just happens to come out nicely within dance?

Obviously whether a dancer is trained or not is not the catalyst. However, since I tend to notice it more often with untrained dancers, maybe it is an issue of control. Trained dancers are so aware of what they are doing, constantly evaluating movement, or at least being aware of how their movement fits into the "world" of dance and technique.
A thought could be that simply because we are so aware of the context within which we dance, it is difficult to let go. Letting go may then be the reason for this release of energy: an unpolished expression of one's self.
Yet this hypothesis doesn't account for the dancers you watch who have this type of energy, and are expertly trained. Have they found a way to consciously tap into this energy, is it simply inherent in them, or is it simply a skill that can - like many others - be practiced and perfected?