Rehearsal Etiquette - Choreographer

Generally, this is not much of a problem as the choreographer is generally the most acutely aware of the importance of the time spent together in rehearsal.  That said, there are certain things which all choreographers should keep in mind at all times.

Time Management.  This is by far the most important responsibility the choreographer has in consideration of their dancers.  Particularly as a young choreographer (who generally does not have access to rehearsal funding), your dancers are volunteering their time to bring your work to life.  And if you do have rehearsal funding, it is in your best interest to minimize cost.  Those might seem like cold terms but they are a reality.  Artistically, there will be times when you hit a stumbling block and time will stand still.  These are very frustrating times but they are an inevitability.  Therefore it is that much more important to use time effectively and efficiently.

A good friend of mine, a choir teacher, has planned rehearsals to the minute before.  I've seen these outlines before and they are detailed and precise.  He puts a great amount of effort into his planning to make sure that he gets the most work done without waisting anyone's time.  He also understands that there is flexibility to his schedule but by doing his best to stay to the schedule, he is very effective.  As dancers we tend to be a bit more airy in our decisions and leave more to chance in the moment.  This is equally viable as long as you have a plan, stick to it, and use everyone's time efficiently.

Discipline.  Tough term.  By this I mean that you must assert that you are in charge.  Do not let people be inconsiderate.  Set a standard at the beginning of the process and stick to it.  There will be times when you will face a difficult conversation with a dancer who is not meeting the expressed standards.  If you communicate early, it will be easier.  Also, contracts are a good thing as they protect you and your dancers while clearing stating a standard of behavior.  Again, it is up to you how flexible you want to be, but an objective, expressed standard and the consequences for not meeting said standard is hard to beat.

Scheduling.  We all know that our rehearsals are more important than everything else, ever.  I'm kidding but that is genuinely how it feels.  Similar to the discipline practices outlined above, an expressed standard of scheduling and how conflicts are to be handled is hard to beat.  An example of a scheduling standard would be

By signing this agreement, the dancer is agreeing to attend the rehearsal schedule in full.  If conflicts arise, the dancer is to communicate said conflicts as soon as possible.  Three inappropriate or inappropriately communicated conflicts will result in termination.  The appropriateness of potential conflict will be decided at the choreographer's discretion.  

Truly, these are the most important parts of running a rehearsal.  As I can think of it, there are certainly other things to consider but these are the most universal.  Other thoughts are more individual and rely on personal choice and preference.

Music - Soundtracks

Film and television are excellent resources for music choices.  The first thing one should know about this type of music is the difference between a soundtrack and a score.  Unfortunately, Hollywood today blurs this line because they fear that it might confuse people.  Soundtracks focus on songs written as independent pieces of music, used in part or whole, throughout a film or television series.  Scores, on the other hand, focus on the background music written specifically to coincide with the production.  Most movie soundtracks today are a combination of the two.

The positive aspects of using soundtracks begin with the wide selection of music without lyrics.  (See my earlier post.)  Also, you can find excellent music to complement dance without being too busy that it overwhelms the audience.  Particularly if you are looking at scores, they were written to support the action, provide environment, and fill the air.  One obstacle that many choreographers place upon themselves is trying to find that amazing piece of music that exists somewhere on the planet to fit exactly what it is they are trying to say or do with their dance.  The odds of stumbling across that one song in the infinite world of music are ridiculous.  Chances are, the best piece of music will already exist in your personal library.  How does this relate to soundtracks?  Think of the number of songs you own.  Think of the number of movies/tv shows you own and or watch with regularity.  Add the two and you now have the potential size of your music library.  Cool, huh?

Negative aspects.  The most negative aspect is familiarity.  But wait, I just said that your familiarity with the music was important.  Now I'm talking about the audience's familiarity with it.  This again comes in two flavors.  The first is that catchy alternative song that became super popular due to the movie that it was in.  No matter how badly you like the song, no matter how perfect it seems to fit your piece, DO NOT use it.  Every person who has seen the movie will instantly connect the film with your dance.  They will spend the entire duration of your work deciphering how it fits with the theme and storyline of the movie.  This is a distraction you do not need and it obstructs the audience's ability to watch your piece and take something away from it.  Secondly, remember that part about scores specifically being created to "support the action, provide environment, and fill the air"?  These musical phrases become as much a part of the action as the intense drama the actors are carrying out.  Our brains then take this aural information and link it to the visual information and we have a movie.  When you take away one part (the visual) and are left with the other (the aural or music), our brain tries very hard to fill in the void.  We've all had that moment where you hear a tiny bit of a song at a department store and are haunted for the rest of the day trying to figure out where you know the song from.  Most likely, it was in a film, commercial, tv show, etc.  Now condense all of that frustration to sitting in a dark theater, watching a dance piece and there is that same melody that is just on the tip of your tongue and you can't quite figure out where you know it...wait, you were watching dance?  This again coupled with the subliminal connection to the source material will only turn your audience off from your piece and turn on their internal television.

There will always be someone in the audience who recognizes your music, or at least thinks they do.  And that person, you may lose.  But don't set up the entire audience for failure by choosing something easily recognizable or popular.  Instead, start gathering scores and soundtracks.  Listen to them between Lady Gaga and Led Zepplin.  Find specific composers who tend toward a genre of film.  All of this information will broaden your ability to appreciate music and open vast opportunities for music selection as you create dance.  The subtlety with which most soundtracks are composed is an art all unto itself and leaves you as a choreographer with many choices.  Remember that the music should never constrain you, only "support the action, provide environment, and fill the air".

Program Notes

Time for some opinions.  In my short career, I've heard some intense discussions on program notes.  These debates tend to take two forms, the first of which is just how much information to use.  It seems that the barebones requirements are title of dance, choreographer, dancers, and composer.  Of course if there are any additional credits due (props master, special lighting, etc.) it should be listed with the individual piece and all other technicians (light designer, artistic director, costume designer, tech crew, etc.) should also receive credit generally formatted in their own block of information.

The conflict arises in whether or not to describe the piece or present the audience with context for each piece.  It is my stance that no, you should not.  If there is a narrative, the piece should clearly represent that narrative.  If not, then the audience should be free to take from the piece exactly what they find while viewing it.  By explaining what the choreographer sees/feels/intends, you rob the audience of the chance to experience the work for themselves.  This then turns the experience into a comparison between what they are seeing and what they have read. 

My opinion differs (only slightly) in the performance of historically important repertoire.  In this case, I think it is important to include information regarding why the piece is historic, the climate surrounding its creation, and why it is being performed now.  Note that I did not say the piece itself should be explained, only facts about the piece.  The same logic can be applied to pieces rooted in historic fact, but again only minor contextual fact and not interpretation should be provided.

The second form of this debate comes from collaboration.  The scenario generally consists of a choreographer working with a musician, composer, set designer, actor, or another artistically inclined individual.  Many of these individuals come from arts which focus on conveying a specific point to the observer.  It may seem that if the audience does not 'get' exactly what was intended in the creation of the work, then the work has been a failure.  This is not the mindset in most modern dance.  There is room for interpretation and personal experience.  In the event that the collaborator is invited to work with the choreographer, then the choreographer has the final say in just what goes into the program.  It is an important discussion to have, but I again encourage the less-is-more technique.

On the other end is when a choreographer has been invited to work with another artist.  And this is my other exception.  Particularly when you (the choreographer) have been asked to create a work for an audience population that is unfamiliar with modern dance, it is prudent to include some form of program note.

Example:  I was once asked to choreograph a piece for an organ concert.  Beautiful music, in a beautiful hall, with a brilliant musician and fantastic dancers.  Keep in mind however that the audience would be attending an organ concert, with some dance, and many have a history in viewing music performance.  Some had never seen modern dance.  The musician asked for programs notes and I sat and considered for a while just what to do.  The route I chose was to explain the process the piece went through and the inspirations which guided my thoughts.  This gave those unfamiliar with modern dance a context in which to view the piece but did not drive them to a tunnel visioned idea of what I thought about the piece.  At least I hope that was the outcome.

 As usual, I would like to hear other thoughts on this topic.  One should remember that the most important message of this topic, is that you should take into account every piece of information the audience receives as though it were choreography in the piece and form your decision on the total experience you would like your audience to encounter.

Rehearsal Etiquette - Dancer (Part 1)

Personally it seems that etiquette has taken a back seat in recent years.  And just like everything else, different situations call for different standards and different etiquette protocols.  This will be the first entry in a series devoted to proper etiquette at different times within the life of a dancer.

This is an area where we can learn much from Victorian parenting - speak only when spoken to.  The dancers' input is extremely important to the process of many (if not most) choreographers.  But as dancers, we need to respect the choreographer's ideas and decisions.  If they are looking for input, they will clearly indicate as such.  The more you work with someone, the more you will be able to pick up on their non-verbal cues for input, but take it as a general rule to keep your ideas to yourself. 

NEVER practice phrases or pieces unrelated to that for which the rehearsal is called.  This tells the choreographer that you would rather be spending this time rehearsing for someone else's work and is extremely distracting.  If you have idle time while the choreographer works with someone else, work on difficult portions of the current piece, smooth out some partnering moments, get a quick drink of water, write down new choreography or notes you have received over the course of this rehearsal, stretch, etc.  That is also the order in which I would suggest such activities.  As long as you stay focused on the fact that you are there to rehearse for a specific piece, increase your skills as a performer, and create art, you should be fine.

When a movement does not 'work' (thinking particularly about partnering/weight-bearing), make sure to let your choreographer know what feels wrong but do not blatantly suggest that the movement is impossible.  Remember that the choreographer can see things that you cannot and you can feel things that the choreographer cannot.  It is terribly annoying when the choreographer comes to rehearsal with some spectacular idea that works in their mind and would like to find a way to make it work in reality but one or more of the dancers writes it off as imaginary right away and insists it cannot be done.  This not only affects group moral, but it hinders the growth of choreographer and dancer alike.  There is a point where you should cut your losses, but if you don't push the limits you won't grow (and possibly miss out on the opportunity to create a beautiful movement).

Rehearsals should be fun.  Many dancers that I've worked with enjoy kidding around and making jokes or puns off of something that was just said or a recent movement.  This can keep rehearsals fun and light-hearted IF done in moderation and NEVER hindering the productivity of the rehearsal.  Also, I would suggest making these quips loud enough for everyone to hear because it saves time (by not having to explain the joke when everyone else sees you laughing) and it prevents a misunderstanding (someone thinking the joke is about them in a negative connotation).  I find myself struggling with this more than most areas.  Generally, one should refer to the second paragraph of this post...until you've got a zinger that just has to come out.

Multitasking

How many projects should an individual be involved with?  I find myself asking this question today.  This is to take into consideration companies you perform with, companies you run, classes you take, and any side projects in which you are involved.  I think the answer is different for each individual, but it seems as though the priorities for figuring out the limit are a bit confused for many in the Boston dance scene.  Certainly, it is possible to be involved in multiple companies.  Also, it is possible to have a company and perform for someone else.  But when is it too much? 

I've found my limit to be four different companies at any given time.  Even that is a bit overwhelming at times.  If I'm choreographing a project, then I can really only handle performing for one other company.  The crux of the matter is keeping up one's technique.  Ideally, a 'serious' dancer should be dancing 7 days a week.  This would include rehearsals and classes.  The problem, it would seem, with the Boston dance scene is that there are so many small companies that individuals become involved with several small companies, fill the available schedule with rehearsals, and then forget about class.  As dancers, we need to be taking class.  And I'm just as guilty of this as the next person.  If I'm lucky I take one class a week.  There simply is no substitution for taking class.  I also think that many of the choreographers in the area would feel better about their dancers if more were taking consistent classes to improve and maintain their technique.

This was a little bit of a rant, but I'm curious to get feedback.  How much is too much for you?  Do you honestly feel that you can choreograph and dance for someone else at the same time and give each the amount of attention they deserve?  Do you take class?  Are there enough classes?  Is all of this moving in the wrong direction because dance is merely a hobby?  How does one go about convincing dancers to take more classes?  The financial argument is tough to combat but is that what really keeps people away?

Music - Lyrics

I'm writing this post in three parts, corresponding to experience as a choreographer.

Beginning choreographers - stay away from lyrics.  The temptation to create movement that literally interprets the lyrics is simply too great.  As creating new movement and phrases is often difficult as a new choreographer, this will only hinder your creativity.  Also, lyrics can be confusing for the audience.  They add another level of sensory information that can distract the audience from paying complete attention to your piece.  It is difficult at first to deprive yourself of music with lyrics, but as one of my college professors put it 'if the lyrics already tell the story, why would you need to see the dance?'

Experienced choreographers - generally stay away from lyrics.  This has more to do with my sensory comment from above than anything else.  Remember that what ever the sounds you choose to use in your choreography, they add a layer of sensory information that the audience must absorb.  During the rehearsal process, we become so very familiar with our chosen music that it becomes second nature.  What we must remember is that our audience will be hearing that music for the first time while simultaneously seeing our composition for the first time.  This is not to say that it will never be successful, in fact quite the opposite.  As long as you keep in mind that there will be a lot of information being transmitted to the audience and you manage that flow of information well, it can be extremely effective.  Also, when considering lyrics in other languages, decide if the voice blends in as if it were another instrument or if it stands alone.  In the first case treat it as such.  In the second, make sure to take this into account.  It may not be an issue at all but it could create an issue if your audience spends the time they should be watching your piece trying to decipher the lyrics.

Studio choreographer - use lyrics.  This is for those out there teaching children or populations that are new to dance.  Your choreography should be focused on the student.  Challenge them in performance ability, but showcase the lessons they have learned in their course of study.  Lyrics can be an easy way for students to relate to the music and for those who have difficulty hearing rhythms or counting music, it gives them an alternative.  The words also help with memory.  And especially for the very young, it gives you ideas for movement.  *Note - this is in direct conflict with what I said earlier.* The more obvious the movement, the more obvious the connection to the music/lyrics, the easier it is for young ones to remember.  Also, repeated movement to repeated words is a huge help.

Rules

Is there such thing as absolute truth? (Hint:  its a trick question.)

The answer is yes.  If you were to answer no, you would be stating an absolute truth, thus negating your answer.  I bring this up not to begin an existential/humanistic debate, but to qualify some of my recent posts.  As I bring up topics, there certainly are right and wrong answers, good and bad decisions to be made.  But the point I would like you to remember is that all of the topics discussed on this blog don't guarantee that you will make a wildly successful piece.  (Point-in-case:  what is a successful piece?)  These are a guide line and point of discussion.  Generally, I've found these 'rules' to be true.  I've also found that breaking them can open new doors.

So use the rules, break the rules, challenge the rules.  Even rules that I don't mention or get wrong.  Just remember that there are rules.

Continuity

Recently a friend of mine commented on the importance of continuity in set design.  This is one such topic where I take a difficult position.  I would say that continuity compliance is the rule in dance composition as well as set design and many other mediums.  Except when it is not.

Let me first define continuity.  In creative fields, continuity is consistency.  In film production, the continuity supervisor makes sure that set pieces and positioning remain consistent from one shot to the next.  The set design conversation was regarding the level of realism throughout a set.  In choreography, continuity applies to several different aspects, but the most important is continuity of movement.  Is the movement vocabulary at the end of the piece consistent with that of the beginning?  If not, does the progression of the piece create a continuity which relates the two vocabularies?  A big note here is the difference between 'consistent' and 'same'.  In dance, the movement does not have to be the same to be consistent, it must only relate.  The length to which the movement can be manipulated while still relating to the rest of the piece, can only be determined on a case by case basis.

When is continuity not the rule?  When you choose to make it not the rule.  If the choreographer specifically chooses to avoid continuity (in the conventional sense) then the piece could still be successful.  And when you think about it, by choosing to avoid continuity, the choreographer has created a new continuity.  When it comes to determining the validity of such choices, see my last post about the magical 'why'.  As long as you can confidently defend your choice, you should be in the clear.

Why?

The most important question a choreographer must ask is 'why'.  By asking 'why', you achieve multiple ends.  First, it grounds your mind.  The creative mind enjoys flying into unintelligible locations that we then attempt to recreate in the physical world.  This process can be very frustrating as our imagination does not have to deal with simple things like physics.  At these times, 'why' can ease the frustration and enhance the final product.

Example*:  I have this great idea where the tiny, 95 lbs. female dancer in my company dead lifts the 6' 4", 200 lbs male dancer in this awesome new piece.  Why does she need to lift him?  It fits the theme of the piece in that the weak become strong, clearly shown by the difference in size.  Why should he be completely off of the floor?  If they merely share weight, there might be a question left in the mind of the audience as to how strong the weak might become and this would distract from the focus of the piece. Why a dead lift over her head?  This is a triumphal position and reinforces the theme.    

In that example, I was able to answer each question with a substantial response which tells me that I'm on the right path for this movement to fit into the piece.

Now what if the execution of the lift continues to fail?  This brings up the second purpose of the 'why' question.  It can expand our area of thought and often leads to more effective outcomes.  Using the same example, the last two questions/answers give some insight into execution.  It is important to get the male dancer completely off the floor and to express triumph.  These specific details then beg the question:  how else might one express triumph and achieve a lift?  The 'why' questions first narrowed our focus to the specific detail we want and then broadened the possibilities to achieve it.

A third purpose of the 'why' question was hinted at in the summary of the example above.  All too often dances are cluttered with too many ideas that were great at the time but by the completion of the piece...they seem out of place.  In this case, the question keeps you honest.  This is the most direct and most frequent use of the 'why'.  Let's now focus on the third question - why a dead lift over her head?  If the answer were it was something that I liked or because that is how I imagined it, we might be in trouble.  These answers may be true but they will result in shallow choreography because there is not a clear purpose for the audience to see.  If the answer is why not?, then we've hit a new territory (which I will expand in another post) which is also important. In my opinion, there is absolutely nothing wrong with answering why not, provided you choose this answer on purpose.  If you use this answer simply because you do not have another answer, then you are lying to yourself and your audience. 

The 'why' is essential to any piece of work and it must be asked of all stages in the creative process.  That said, the danger of the 'why' is to become so focused on 'why' that you forget the 'what' that is the substance of your creation.  This may seem like a paradox and I would be happy to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Here is a list of potential 'why' questions:

• Why this dance, at this time, in this place?
• Why this number of dancers?
• Why this cast?
• Why this music/soundscore?
• Why use music?  Why not silence?
• Why are you using light cues?
• Why are you not using light cues?
• Why do the dancers relate in that way?
• Why does that dancer exit?
• Why does she come back?
• Why does this phrase follow that phrase?
• Why is this phrase manipulated in that way?
• Why do the dancers consistently pointe their feet in the piece?
• Why?

*The example I used is completely fictional, although...

The Poor Dance

It only makes sense to begin this blog by first explaining the mission.  This blog will hopefully provide an outlet for my personal thoughts, ideas, and beliefs regarding art, artistry, and dance while also creating a forum for other artists, dancers, choreographers, etc. to join the conversation.  I want to learn.  I want to teach.  I want to share.

Quite frankly I know that the internet is full of bloggers who think themselves experts on a given topic.  I'm not trying to do that.  It would be very helpful to my personal process for those reading this to challenge my conclusions and ideas.  This not only will help me to learn, but might provide others with new information.  Keeping this in mind, I will moderate the comments, but I will do my best to include all comments relevant to the current topic.  Also, the moderation process reminds me to respond.

Now, for anyone confused either by the title of this blog or the quote, let me explain.  Jerzy Grotowski was a Polish theater director and founder of the Laboratory Theater.  I've recently become very interested in his work, which will provide fodder for future posts, but it is his idea of the Poor Theater which really drew me in.  Grotowski sought to discover what is essential to theatre as an individual artform, stripped of the unnecessary additions of other artforms.  In this sense, his theater was poor in having less 'stuff' than a theater which included the 'rich' additions of music, dance, extravagant lighting or scenery.  This is not to say that he was opposed to these additions, at various times in his career he praised them.  Instead, his was a search for the potential of theatre as an artform strictly unto itself.  Grotowski's conclusion as to what was essential to theatre was simple - the actor and the audience.  Even this topic is debatable, but it struck close to home because several months ago, I heard Bill T. Jones, Karole Armitage, and Elizabeth Streb discuss this exact concept - the role of the relationship between performer and audience member.  A couple of months later, I had a similar conversation with David Dorfman.  Therefore, I've decided to adapt Grotowski's term for the essence of theatre into my search for the essence of dance.

If the philosophical nature of that last paragraph has you questioning whether you will return to this blog, I apologize.  Because I want to discuss art and artistry, there will be posts that go into strange realms of thought that truly have no 'answer'.  But rest assured that I also want to discuss practical points in choreography, dance, and artistry.  Hopefully, the practical discussions will lead to a better ability to tackle the philosophical quandaries.

With that said, welcome to The Poor Dance.