A hand placed over your mouth …
A hand covering your eyes … your partner’s eyes …
Grabbing someone by the neck …
Imagine my joy when I get feedback on my piece saying, “Wow, you did a whole dance about the ‘forbidden’ gestures. That was gutsy.”
Oops … I totally did.
How did this happen? I didn’t mean to use gestures that I’ve seen a million times before–that have been done so often that they almost don’t mean a thing.
When I choreograph I usually try to keep one thing in mind DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT.
What does that mean exactly? That statement is a lot harder to fulfill than it might seem–it requires that you be fully aware of your habits, your usual choices, your movement style and movement vocabulary. It means you have to explore new musical choices, you have to break old habits, you have to push yourself to do something you find uncomfortable. It means you have to ask yourself, “Do I want to just do something different than what I’VE done before? Do I want to do something that NO ONE has ever seen before? Do I focus on a new movement vocabulary? A new process?”
In this day and age, that’s very hard to do–not all movements are created equal.
Contemporary dancers live in a time that is so saturated with movement that many movements or “moves” are already freighted with associations, ideas, images, or even time and place. They become a kind of short-hand that short-circuits the creative process. Hence, the forbidden moves …
- death drop to one knee
- tricks/leaps/turns that we can see coming because of a preparation, a set up, or a chasse that ALWAYS comes before the trick
- moves that are made famous in a music video and are then copied by people in every walk of life: for example, The Whip, the Dab …
- grabbing your head in both hands and moving it in a big circle
- reaching out into space, grabbing nothing with a pained look on your face
- a fan kick or side tilt with your who-who-dilly directed straight at the audience
- any of these moves by the now in-famous Contemporary Eric …
In dance we use the term “movement vocabulary.” And as with spoken language, moves (like words) can come and go, becoming fashionable and then unfashionable. And they can also lose their meaning altogether, just as words and terminology do: Who knows what the word “synergy” means these days (especially when they appear in a business book), or “surreal.” Words actually do have a denotative meaning (you can look them up in a dictionary), but they’re used so commonly (“We need to have ‘closure’.”) that terminology can become bereft of meaning, even leading, in its extremes, to what’s been called “semantic satiation.”
The same is true of vocabulary in movement or dance. There are overused phrases or words that eventually when spoken or performed no longer carry meaning or importance which have been lost over time after they were used repeatedly without focus or intent. In dance, it’s not just mindless repetition that causes this; sometimes the language loses its power when it is tied to the lyrics of a pop song or even just the crescendo of the music. In fact, these moves can actually subtract meaning from your work by referencing something so common place, so well-known that they become virtually indecipherable.
So why on earth did I use several of them as a motifs for my duet Folie A Duex which debuts this weekend at RDT’s Emerge?
Good question. I don’t know–all I can tell you is, I wasn’t thinking about those moves as stock gestures.
It was about following an idea … a feeling–a state of being–a brief image that popped into my head, months ago, as I was thinking about this duet.
I don’t believe in questioning an idea. I simply work to fulfill that idea, and that idea comes with a movement vocabulary, a style, a series of qualities. I work to identify those qualities and create movement, partnering, and dance structures that fit that idea.
Yes … my original idea did include these moments of touching, of covering eyes, mouths, necks, check, hips, etc. But it was the quality of touch that was important. It was the way the dancer made contact with themselves or their partner that caught my attention … that’s what I was exploring. It didn’t seem to matter that I’d seen the gestures before. Obviously, that didn’t even cross my mind.
I guess that like a creative writer, I was exploring movement language in a new way. I was exploring the quality of the language, these moves in their purest form. They aren’t made in anger, in sadness. They aren’t moments designed to represent tenderness or compassion.
This is a challenge for both the dancers (Ursula & Dan) and myself. We’ve worked hard to coach one another in how we touch each other: the directness of the hand, the firmness of the touch, the way the hand doesn’t caress up the body to the place where it ends. All these gestures, when you look at them closely, have what seems to be inherent meaning. The most basic arrangement of the duet–a man and a woman–already says so much! Humans are meaning-making creatures and we subscribe meaning to almost everything we see, even when we don’t mean to or know we are doing it.
As choreographer, I want my dancers to be able to perform these gestures, which makes up the work’s “language,” without commenting on them. If I’ve done my job properly, you won’t see the touches as the main goal of the piece. These moves that have been executed a thousand times are a recurring motif that, hopefully, has been used to paint a picture of a feeling, of a moment between two people, a moment that is intangible and diffuse and ghost-like. A moment that lives openly and allows you, the viewer, to enter the conversation and to add your own meaning. In a sense my objective is to have the movement in “Folie A Duex” transcend the meaning of its vocabulary, something that a poet–whose tools are words drawn from the pool of vocabulary we all use–is always aspiring to.
Come see if I was able to do that this weekend at Emerge–my little duet based around forbidden movements.