Anabelle finished her second season as part of the Danceworks’ Moving Company. Once again, I am very proud that she is a member of a group that has been bringing performances to Rehabilitation and Senior Care centers in the area for twenty years.
This year, I managed to
learn some new things myself.
I thought there were
fewer, but it turns out that there is an escalation of distinct locations that
dancers look to while performing.
Phase 1: At the teacher
standing in the wings.
Phase 2: At the other
dancers
Phase 3: At their own
feet
Phase 4: Straight ahead
Note: there is a gradual
shift from-
Phase 4A (Terrified grin
and zombie like stare)
To
Phase 4B (Relaxed smile
and sparkling eyes)
Phase 5: Into magical
dance space somewhere above the crowd and slightly off to one side.
Phase 6: Somehow directly
into the eyes of every individual member of the audience.
It’s kind of like those
big eyed bobble heads with the gaze that follows you around the room, minus the
creepiness factor, of course.
I knew Miss Chris was
able to infuse “the awesome” into her choreography to showcase the outstanding skills of
her students in unexpected ways. (The Pirates
of the Caribbean ballet in last year’s recital springs to mind.) However, I
managed to be caught off guard once again, both by En Point tap dancing (which
I didn’t know was possible) and Led Zeppelin ballet (which I didn’t know was
legal).
I also learned how ingrained that "Miss *First Name*" method of addressing dance teachers becomes. At one point I referred to the owner's husband as "Mr. Chris." Although, much like the Doctor calling Rory, "Mr. Pond," it may actually be the way it works in this case.
I also learned how ingrained that "Miss *First Name*" method of addressing dance teachers becomes. At one point I referred to the owner's husband as "Mr. Chris." Although, much like the Doctor calling Rory, "Mr. Pond," it may actually be the way it works in this case.
What I learned is irrelevant
anyway when compared to the valued lessons the members of the Moving Company
themselves got and always get.
Frankly, I was
overwhelmingly impressed with the big picture of what they accomplished last
year to the point that I missed some of the details.
One is the importance this
is truly a Show. They’re not only learning a routine, or preparing for a recital;
each number is an integrated part of a whole.
Learning routines for a competition, or gearing up for a recital
requires learning the specifics of a dance.
Being part of a Show with multiple performances in varied venues means
learning all of the little behind the scenes adjustments and alterations that
have to occur to make the visible part come out as a quality product and honing
it with each run through.
These kids are dealing
with unknown and/or oddly shaped and floored locations and other random
curveballs like:
Working routines around
absent performers,
Planning and executing act
transitions including costume changes in near zero time and space,
Not having the dance
collapse when an audience member invokes, “I’m old and I don’t care,” and
wheels themselves out through the performance area.”
Etc.
Dealing with the
unexpected is a much more powerful preparation for real life presentation
skills than practicing a routine and then executing it flawlessly under
controlled circumstances.
Throughout the season,
their abilities, confidence and cohesiveness visibly increased with every
performance. My favorites to watch were
the dancers and singers whose courage slowly catch up to their technical abilities
with each show.
I’ve mentioned the camaraderie
fostered at the school previously, but it merits extra highlighting. My daughter is part of the younger group of
dancers, yet she frequently comes home relating conversations she’s had with
some of the top members of the group about their show, school plays or other unrelated
to “show biz” topics.
The internal support at
Danceworks is phenomenal. I don’t
believe it is a coincidence that at the end of the recital...
The same recital where squadrons of former students return to help out, and thanks are offered to massive amounts of current students who volunteer as assistant instructors for the younger classes...
At the end of that recital, each year when the seniors are being bid farewell, many of them invariably are going on to respected institutions to pursue careers that give back to the community (e.g. Medical Fields, Education, and yes I’m including Engineering on this list) while maintaining a connection to the arts.
The same recital where squadrons of former students return to help out, and thanks are offered to massive amounts of current students who volunteer as assistant instructors for the younger classes...
At the end of that recital, each year when the seniors are being bid farewell, many of them invariably are going on to respected institutions to pursue careers that give back to the community (e.g. Medical Fields, Education, and yes I’m including Engineering on this list) while maintaining a connection to the arts.
There’s one other key
thing I noticed this year. I’ve seen some competitive dance teams where it appears every girl was made from the
exact same Play-Doh molding machine.
Consistency is what they’re going for, and it works fine in that arena.
In the Moving Company,
however, that is not the case. Heck, even the twins wear their dance buns at individual positions. At all age levels there are young women of many different heights, with many different levels of emotional expression and
of many different body types. When they
perform the routines they’ve worked at with each other and practiced together,
they all look graceful, athletic and beautiful.
I don’t think my
daughter could learn any more important lesson from a physical activity than
that.
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