DCDanceBlog

i want to have the technique to dance like this. i want to perform this solo precisely like she does it. i am quite sure i don’t have the technique needed - or the “non” technique, which nevertheless is a technique - but i want to try.

i guess as much as we need technique, there is something to be said about abusing technique. it becomes a problem when it becomes a style rather than a tool.

here’s what i want (for christmas): i want to be able to switch back and forth between moving with an engaged center as well as an disengaged center. i want to be off balance in balance. have the same control over my feet when i relax them, as when i point them. i want to move my arms without necessarily connecting to my back. to not turn out when i develope’. i want to be able to use technique to dance without technique. to be floppy with precision. to lift my legs like my grandfather when he walks the stairs. and pirouette like a ballerina. on pointe.

this is a post about competition and feelings of insecurity.

we all have those feelings, right? especially in dance. either we grew up taking ballet classes that honed us into hardworking perfectionists, or we’re outliers who have an artistic vision that requires our sweat and perseverance and maybe a little arrogance to even begin to achieve it.

and creating art, of course, is all about putting one’s ego on the line and facing a million fears that what we have to say is actually boring and cliched–or else that we just won’t be able to do it.

add to that the fact that there aren’t a lot of opportunities out there, and not enough slots to go around.

and top it off with dance being a performance art, where you can’t hide a thing.

oh, and top that off with the fact that we humans seem to easily gravitate towards feelings of inferiority.

what it all can create is an atmosphere of competition, where everyone’s striving to be or to seem better than they are, while inside fearing that they really aren’t any good at all.

which is ok, in a way. the striving probably is key to actually achieving some success.

but on the other hand, if we’re always concerned with how we appear and what others think of us, we’re not really seeing each other–and aren’t really present inside ourselves. it’s like we’re avoiding reality.

for example, if i’m in a dance class and i mess up a combination, it’s true that the other dancers might notice and begin to think i’m not as good a dancer as they had thought. but the truth is, maybe i’m not actually that good! it’s great to be viewed as a good dancer, but the truth will ultimately come out. why not just let myself be who i am–be the best that i can be, but not try to pretend to be someone i’m not?

what i find interesting is that dancers in class are frequently not that competitive with each other, at least in an obvious way. most dancers are pretty friendly. but we’re so damn competitive with ourselves! that’s the real tragedy. it’s so common to see women who are gorgeous dancers lose their self confidence when they make one small mistake. it’s as if they’re just waiting for a reason to judge themselves harshly.

the one thing that does drive me insane about how fellow dancers treat each other is the post-performance response. we all know how hard it is to give even a decent performance. why the hell do we not congratulate fellow dancers afterwards and say something–anything!–nice about what we saw? i don’t get it. does the silence come from forgetfulness, or is it simply competition and cattiness?

i’ll be honest: if the performance is average or above, it is downright lame if we can’t find something nice to say to the person who’s just performed. why not do it? what does it cost us?