Today in Choreography we were studying voice; something that I know fills a lot of dancers with fear.
I’m not sure why. We speak and laugh and sing everyday using it as a means of connecting with everyone around us. Nevertheless I know that I too get a little bit nervous making noise while dancing. We’re so used to being watched and judged in a visual sense, not in auditory one.
Using authentic movement practice- eyes closed, one witness, using sound to instigate movement I feel like we started to tackle our hesitation to make sound.
Although tentative to begin with, 2nd Year gradually shed its inhibitions and became a screaming jungle of noise. Afterwards we did three minutes of automatic writing, and I feel like my response to the task is the best way to explain my experience:
I felt like I was schizophrenic. I was putting on loads of costumes, feelings, personalities and disguises. Just going along with it. I was a player on the stage with many roles. None of them made sense. There was no logical step from one to another. They were fluid, like water, slipping out of my mouth and streaming over my body and into my movement. In truth, I can’t remember was happened. It was like witnessing someone’s entire lifetime and only the best bits will be remembered. Most likely the moments that made me laugh. It was sound.
The whole class was a vocal, visceral being in space, exploring the relationship between sound and action as if there was nothing more important.
So,
doesn’t it seem illogical that dancing should be silent?
Reblogged this on Charlotte Arnold and commented:
Little blog post I did for the Northern blog. Enjoy!