The Dance Community
Dancers are weird. Really weird.
We take weird pictures, make weird jokes, and have weird relationships. When I remove myself from the fantasyland of the “dance world” and go back into reality — by that I mean General Education classes, Ohio State football games, etc., — I find myself in a lot of awkward situations. I consistently stay in a dancer state of mind: all whimsical and feeling-centered. I’ll say things that are really spiritually connected. For example, after watching a busted football play at a game, I might say, “I just don’t think they put their whole spirit into that play.” People look at me like I’m insane. As dancers we think more about the mind and body connection than the average population.
Because many dancers are whole heartedly dedicated to our artistry, I suppose we can be more passionate than most people. We get emotional; we want to know people’s inner spirit; we get too involved. Our dances are not just movements, but stories created by each nuance. Things that other people would find odd, are perfectly normal thoughts to dancers. I’ve been told “dance with your eyes”, to “kill the movement”, and “be so focused on practicing this dance that if there’s a fire, you don’t leave the room.” To me, these things make perfect sense. To the normal civilian,however, these mantras seem crazy.
Dancers are intimate with each other because we dive into the root of feelings to communicate pieces, and we have been trained to always dance vulnerably, taking risks. We have been taught that honesty is what something to live for and that the dance studio is our safe place to be make mistakes and be susceptible to anything. So, we naturally build friendships that are intricate and tight.
Thus, we tend to be a very touchy, feely group. We braid each other’s hair without asking. We share deodorant and lipstick. We have been taught that personal space is a boundary that often needs to be broken. This is especially true in contact improv where the main focus is applying pressure to your partner and feeling their body against yours. Timidness is not an option in these scenarios. Dancers are not afraid to whole-heartedly connect to their emotions. I remember once doing a dance about school shootings. We got so into the choreography and the story behind it, that we all wept, and not cute crying, but disgusting, mascara-everywhere heaving. We were so invested in the dance, we felt like we were there, watching horrible things occur and feeling the grief that came with it. We allowed ourselves to become the characters.
Dancers want to know the motive behind every movement. Why did I kick my leg? What feeling prompted me to do that? We ask, What should I be feeling in this dance? What’s my story? Do you believe me? We strive for a better understanding of the world and the mind through this.
Dance is a very spiritual, sharing community. We all get to do what we love. And in some ways it feels more genuine than the outside world.
Kelsey Kempner 