Angsty Dancers: You've Got Much More To Offer

2011-12-16T17:30:00.003-05:00

If I have one pet peeve whilewatching a live dance performance, it’s watching the inevitable, theever-present, the frustrating: Angsty Dancer.

Yep, you know the one. From beginningto end, they express themselves through scrunched eyebrows, pursed lips, breathingthat border lines dry heaving, frantic hair grabbing (usually their own), randomand desperate sprints downstage followed by passionate arm reaches and dramaticallyout-of-control falls, with a bit of sobbing sprinkled in to really drive it allhome. And by the end, the dancer has yet to explain why. I’m usually leftfearing for this dancer’s physical safety and mental stability more than I amcaring about their artistic voice.

There’s lots of drama, but littlesubstance.

Forget delving into this performer’spoint-of-view; there’s no way to see past the shockingly in-your-face emotionalexplosion. To put it lightly, this type of performer is overdoing it and we, asan audience, have been given no reason to care about why they are overdoing it. Latching onto the performer’s “message”is nearly impossible- all because I now spend my time questioning the dancer’ssanity. Why does the Angsty Dancer feel the need to be unnecessarilymelodramatic while performing? Moreover, do they know it’s unnecessary? My goal: explain to the over-doers thattheir reasoning is not accomplishing what they think it is.

These emotional disasters reallystarted to disturb me when I last attended the American College Dance Festivalheld at my own school in Spring 2011. It’s one thing to see drama like this onT.V. It’s another to be sitting ten feet from the performer as you hear theirknees painfully crack into the ground due to the fact that they are “so intoit” that they flail more than dance. Is this supposed to shock me into thinkingtheir violent thrashing about and over-the-top expressions are profound? Dothey think I will never see something like this again? Being at a festival surrounded by college-level performers andchoreographers, I expected more than this. Why was this happening so often?

Let’s break it down. Here’s asample of how my experience as an audience member goes during the described “angstydance performance”:

In the beginning: I’m intrigued andamused. I’m hopeful that this obviously passionate dancer is going to take meon an energetic journey and show me something inspiring (or at least have afunny point-of-view on melodramas- thatwould be juicy!).

In the middle: I’m confused anddisturbed. It’s been a few minutes now and this dancer is becoming moreviolent, more impassioned and less tangible to me. I’m being clearly informedthat “THIS IS ABOUT ME AND MY EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE”. So why do they even need an audience? Also, I fear for theirpotential injuries.

Afterwards: I’m disappointed- alongwith the rest of the audience. We were rooting for them, hoping that they wouldgive us something more complex to latch onto, but alas, our hopes wentunfulfilled. The performer is satisfied with this self-indulgence. We are not. Weapplaud, though, because of his/her obvious “passion” and for doing it “fullout with feeling”, as one of my former dance professors would say. This passionis enough for some audience members. But given the choice between two performances,this melodramatic jumble and a piece that stimulates them on more than theemotional level, those same audience members would definitely prefer thelatter. Personally, I’m glad the first danceris impassioned. I’m sad, though, that he/she is not using it to say more.

Maybe the Angsty Dancer thinks “over-the-top”is the only way to get the attention of an audience. The Reality: we’re all in a theater, facing the same direction atthe same time all for the purpose of watching you. I assure you that this meanswe can even pick up on the little things you do. In fact, we encourage thelittle things because it makes us feel smarter than the person sitting next tous who missed them! The point is, if you got me to the theater, I’m going towatch you. Now it’s time for you to bein the world you created, invite me into it and show me around a bit. Andtrust me, excessive hair grabbing and audible dry heaving on stage will only divertmy attention to the program in my lap.

Maybe the Angsty Dancer thinks theaudience will relate, sympathize and “feel their pain”. The Reality: if I’m not your mother, I need a little more enticingin order to care about your emotional break down. As human beings, we don’t wantto be bothered with a stranger’s drama. As a dancer and choreographer, I don’twant to see a college dancer go the less-investigated route. As an audiencemember, I don’t want to be bothered with something I’ve seen a million times ondance T.V. shows. This kind of behavior is immediately off-putting for justabout everyone. Wouldn’t it be better to first present yourself in a way thatmakes me respect you and, therefore, care about you? Otherwise, how can I convincemyself that continually trying to invest in learning your world is worth it? Trysome more subtlety and even if your audience still can’t relate, they’ll have a better reason to want to.

Maybe the Angsty Dancer doesn’tknow that they are an Angsty Dancer. Video tape, video tape, video tape. If you didn’t know you, would you watchyou?

Maybe the Angsty Dancer thinks thatonly an over-emotional performer is really “into it”. The Reality: as emotionalbeings, it is actually a first instinct to dance with some sort of emotion. Bypushing that further, you are not advancing in skill or maturing as aperformer. You are, instead, making thesame choice over and over again at a more extreme intensity. Also, when achaotic/dramatic tone is constant throughout the entire performance, it doesnot remain captivating or surprising. This is not dynamism. Instead, it is justas monotonous as a totally emotionless dance.

Maybe the Angsty Dancer needs toblow off steam caused by their own repressed emotions. The Reality: I’ve neverheard of something more selfish. It’s a slap in the face to everyone who wantsconcert dance to be better treated and better respected.

Here’s a great first step to avoidover-doing it on stage: invite theaudience into your world. You wouldn’t invite someone into your house byimmediately bombarding them with all your problems before they’ve even steppedthrough the door. So don’t try that on stage! My biggest problem with all theangst is how it immediately takes me outof the dancer’s work. And I mean, immediately. When the lights come up andI find myself staring at someone breathing heavily (remember, they haven’t evenmoved), on the verge of tears and suddenly accompanied by an R&B love song,they’ve almost completely lost me. It’s too much- and predictably so. Where’sthe mystery? Now they’re job is even harder because I’m not as optimistic aboutenjoying this. If no original point-of-view on why they’re behaving this way is introduced/developed, or if anexplanation seems abandoned by the performer altogether, then I become completely over it. This just means theydidn’t even think about us, the audience. This is a cop out. It’s obvious. It’soverdone. It doesn’t make me feel anything but the time and money I’m wasting. I’mnot being challenged and I feel insulted. (And if I’m one who is rooting for the success of concert dance,imagine how the audience-member-who-was-dragged-to-the-theater-by-someone-elseis feeling.) It does nothing to makedance more desirable to people who have never heard of the “dance world”. It does nothing to inspire dancers asperformers. It doesn’t stimulate choreographers to want to create or continueraising the bar that qualifies work as amazingwork. It’s time to encourage these performers to raise their own bars.

To all the Angsty Dancers (we’veall been one at some point): Admit that this is usually an amateur’s work- an easyfirst choice for performers, requiring little to no investigation or intellectualcomplexity. If you don’t consider yourself an amateur, then try digging deeper asyou go through the rehearsal process; you will find greater satisfaction in thecreativity of discovering those second and third choices. You will become amore mature and accessible performer. Plus, you’ll receive much better feedbackfrom…. well, everyone.

Glimpse of the Mediterranean

2011-11-27T19:17:00.001-05:00

Recorded in Nerja, Spain, this video is a short look at one of my favorite cities we discovered on my first trip to Europe. Jesse shot the footage. I choreographed, moved a bit and edited this little guy. Old confused men on the beach observed. (Excuse the choppy editing as the program I have right now is a little temperamental.)

Excuse my European emotional explosion. And also that silly alliteration.

2011-10-08T06:41:00.001-04:00

I'm confused.

Somewhere between A) an elementary spanish-speaking cartoon with a nifty travel pack (that sings!) and B) a sassy yet mysterious, red-cloaked, world-wandering woman is.... me. Thus the name Dora Sandiego.

Right now the name is appropriate in so many ways- one of them being that my friends have no idea where I am or what I'm doing. Another is this roller coaster that navigates through feelings of incompetence at the very bottom and then zooming up to feelings of overwhelming accomplishment. Meanwhile, the entire experience is underlined with peace and complete bliss.

Back to the what and where.

The "what" is easiest: I'm having the time of my freakin' life! In Europe listening to many languages, meeting tons of new and interesting people every day, trying new foods, experiencing new lifestyles and doing all of this while holding hands with a boy I fell in love with. Disney princesses ain't got shit on me.

The "where" is a bit trickier as the specifics are constantly changing. When I wrote this originally, I was cruising north in the Adriatic Sea towards Venice, Italy. Then there was Croatia and then a return to Spain. It's all still mind-boggling. Even after a week, it still hadn't sunk in....and to be honest, I've now been gone for a month and that shock has not worn out.

Rewind. Explain.

After leaving my Martha's Vineyard home of 4 months, briefly staying in Boston, catching a flight to London, then the bus to Southampton, England, I finally reunited with my older sister after over a year! She works for Celebrity cruise lines and I had the opportunity to join her on the ship for a 16-day Mediterranean cruise.

I know, I'm a lucky little ________. (Peeps can fill in that blank)

Trust me, I was more grateful every single day I spent on that gloriuos ship.

Day 1: (Couldn't tell you what day this was as the entire weekend blurred together with all the times changing, etc.) I slept. After a nauseating 3 days of anticipatory anxiety that ruined any hope of an appetite, I just passed out. Luckily, I had enough adrenaline pumping to make it to the ship in the first place. Once I got off the plane, it went a little something like this:

Get backpack. (That thing was so obedient- came as soon as I got to the belt)
Exchange money to 20 pounds. (Marvel at the fact that I could just as well play Monopoly with it)
Passport check point.
Customs
Look for "desk" that Kath told me to find.
Get lost
Get lost again
Find "desk" and get confused stares from an uptight, old British dude who yells at me for not being on his list.
2 hrs waiting for transfer bus.
4 1/2 hrs on bus due to traffic.
More confused looks from crew members as to who the hell I am.
Security.
Nervous sweat
SISTER!!! I ran and jumped on her like a monkey and just hung on her. Screw formalities. It was so nice to see her! (And know that for at least 2 weeks I had somewhere safe to be.)

Day 2: zzzZZZzzzZZzzzz.

The Bay of Biscay is relentless and many people got sea sick. Not me- that rocking put me right to sleep for what felt like forever. I was awake for only 8 hours in a day and a half. It. felt. glorious.

And thus, my adventure began......

The Yard's dance studio on Martha's Vineyard

2011-06-13T23:16:00.000-04:00

Ashley Sleeth: What's dance got to do with it?

Angsty Dancers: You've Got Much More To Offer

Glimpse of the Mediterranean

Excuse my European emotional explosion. And also that silly alliteration.

The Yard's dance studio on Martha's Vineyard