Moving from Shropshire to London when I was 18 was a huge shift in many ways. As with anyone who moved away from home for University, I was about to experience the same changes to my personality, friendships, routines and worldview. But by choosing to study Contemporary Dance, I had unwittingly signed up to an even bigger change to my fundamental understanding of myself and the world – and soon realized I was out of my depth.
I went in to the first of my classes at Trinity Laban Conservatoire expecting something along the lines of So You Think you can Dance, or the Dance Moms lyrical category – lots of whipping hair, flexed feet, and throwing myself onto my knees. Basically, I wanted to do this:
The reality was quite different. We spent hours lying on the floor, visualizing the layers of our own flesh, breathing deeply... I heard the phrase ‘somatic practice’* several times a day, and secretly googled it when I got home, because everybody else already seemed to know what that meant. I also secretly googled Marina Abramovic, Jackson Pollock, and John Cage – names casually thrown around by classmates who had presumably grown up visiting art galleries and listening to classical music at the dinner table.
(*somatic practice refers to a range of bodyworks/movement studies using the mind-body connection and gentle movement to develop greater awareness of the internal body. Sounds easy, right?)
I was equally out of my depth when it came to watching dance. I’m grateful that my parents and my incredibly dedicated dance teacher made an effort to ensure I saw as much dance as was possible growing up in Shropshire – mostly classical ballets, some musicals, and the odd contemporary touring company that came to Birmingham Hippodrome. These excursions, travelling an hour into the city, dressed in my finest ruffle skirt and mesh arm warmers (yes, I was one of those girls in 2010), shaped my perceptions of seeing dance; red velvet curtains, the rustle of programmes and groaning orchestral warm ups, followed by athleticism, turns, jumps, beautiful lines, satisfying unison performed by large ensembles. But in London’s contemporary dance scene, performance seemed to be more about making audiences uncomfortable than entertaining or impressing them. I suffered through dancers rolling in paint, feeding eachother grapefruits, spinning around naked, and unrolling masking tape at a torturously slow pace. I began to realise I had no idea what ‘contemporary dance’ truly meant.
It took time, and a lot of patience, to eventually figure out what kinds of dance I liked to watch. Through trial and error, and years of being immersed in this industry, I now have a grasp on who makes what kind of work, where I can see something technical and athletic, or something postmodern and pedestrian, or something theatrical and moving. I understand the language of dance, and I’m better able to connect with the concepts and intentions behind what I used to think was just bizarre chaos. I’ve seen international companies, independent artists; multidisciplinary work, live dance, screendance, outdoor performances; family friendly shows and distinctly not-family-friendly shows. I’ve by no means seen it all – but I do now feel comfortable walking into any kind of dance show, open-minded and ready for anything, and I often look around and wonder what kinds of people make up the rest of the audience. How did these people stumble across contemporary dance? What made them decide to buy a ticket? Do they know what they’re in for?
Not everyone has the time or the patience to sit through dozens of shows they don’t enjoy, or to study dance theory and history in order to understand what they’re seeing on stage. This is why, I’ve put together these 10 Top Tips for Watching Contemporary Dance, so that you hopefully can skip the awkward, uncomfortable experience of sitting in a theatre feeling totally out of your depth and wishing you hadn’t spent £12 on that ticket, and instead get straight to the fun part.
10 Top Tips for Watching Contemporary Dance
1. Go in with an open mind.
The mindset you go in with can make or break your experience in a theatre. This comes down to many variables, and obviously you can’t control what kind of day you’ll have or what mood you might be in. But, seeing dance, or any kind of performance is an amazing opportunity for escapism. Try to exercise some mindfulness on the way to the venue, or as you settle in for the show, clearing your mind of any stress from the day or preconceived ideas of what’s about to happen. Prepare your mind the way you might if you were sitting down to watch a long film or a documentary – it’s not time to sit back and zone out, but it is time to focus, to soak in the experience and hopefully to connect with something on a deeper level.
2. Don’t worry (much) about theatre etiquette – but do follow the rules.
Theatre etiquette for contemporary dance is a very vague thing and depends totally on the venue and type of work you’re seeing. Generally, my advice is not to worry at all. Gone are the days of theatres being stuffy places for the rich and well-dressed. Obviously it’s important to be respectful to the performers and your fellow audience members, but wear whatever you’re comfortable in, ask venue staff if you have questions, and don’t be intimidated. Most of the small and mid-scale theatres where you might find contemporary dance are, in my experience, welcoming and friendly places run by passionate people.
It is important to remember though that each venue and show will have its own rules about latecomers, filming/photography, and food and drink – so do your research and be prepared to follow them.
3. Read the programme – or don’t!
Most performances will have some kind of programme or ‘freesheet’, detailing the creative team and giving a brief description of what the work is about. Whether or not you read this is entirely up to you. Some people prefer to go into a show completely open, to take what they see at face value and form their own understanding of what it’s about. This makes perfect sense and can take the pressure off of ‘getting it’. Oftentimes choreographers leave their work open to interpretation, and it can be fun to make your own story.
For me though, I always prefer to have some context going into a show, as this helps me think about what the choreographer is trying to say or do through their decisions. I like to read the programme and gather the key themes or concepts, and just hold those loosely in my mind throughout the show. It doesn’t necessarily mean I see them in the work, and there may still be parts that I don’t understand or ‘get’, but having that overall context to come back to can be grounding. Plus, I like to know the performers’ names and see them as people, not just bodies in the space.
Some programme notes or show descriptions can be filled with jargon or highly conceptual language – if this is the case then my advice is just to focus on whatever is most clear within it, or whatever you understand from it - don’t worry about the rest.
4. Notice the choices.
When creating a show, a whole team of creatives – choreographer(s), dancers, lighting designers, production designers, costume designers, dramaturgs, composers, musicians – have been making choices. Red light or white light. Upstage or downstage. Loud or soft, fast or slow. Everything you see on stage is the result of one of these choices. Even in improvised work, the performer is constantly choosing – to move or to rest, where to look, to follow the music or contrast it. These choices are the root of the work and by noticing what choices are being made, you can begin to understand what the work is about, and how that makes you feel.
If the choreographer has chosen to make the dancer move very slowly, in dim lighting, in the furthest away corner of the stage, what does that say to you? What emotions might they be suggesting, what mood are they creating? I find that tuning into these choices helps me to avoid getting lost in the abstract. If the movement is complex and it’s hard to focus on any single choice, you can notice the costume, the sound, the staging, and how those things change throughout the piece.
5. Don’t worry about spotting everything.
When trying to notice the choices, it’s also okay to miss things. There can be a lot going on, and unlike a film that you can pause or rewind, live dance is ephemeral and fleeting. You probably won’t see everything that happens, you might not notice a prop get moved or a dancer exit the space. What’s important is what you do see – the choreographer has probably also chosen so whilst it’s helpful to stay present, you can also relax and let things wash over you without needing to notice or understand every tiny detail. By seeing the overall picture you can absorb a lot about dynamics, textures, qualities – these are the things that will move you.
6. Notice how you feel.
Whilst doing all this noticing, it’s also important to notice yourself – your reactions, your emotions, how you connect with what’s happening on stage. You may not be able to come up with words for this in the moment, and you don’t need to be able to explain exactly what you’re feeling or why, but try to acknowledge if and when something creates an emotional reaction in you, and immerse yourself in that feeling. It could be a particularly beautiful sequence of movement set to soaring music, or a sudden change in lighting, or something a character says. The way you connect to all the details you’ve been noticing is the most important aspect of watching a performance, this is what the creative team have worked so hard to achieve, so relish in that experience.
If you don’t feel anything, and the show doesn’t quite reach you emotionally, perhaps try to reflect on why that could have been. Maybe it’s not the type of work for you, maybe the subject matter isn’t something you relate to, or maybe it just wasn’t a great show. All those things are valid and help to shape your preferences and understanding of the work you see.
7. Go to the post-show talk.
Post-show talks are a fantastic opportunity to dig deeper and answer any questions that you may have. These are more common at smaller-scale shows, or early on in the development of a piece. Usually, a host from the venue will discuss the work with the choreographer and perhaps some of the dancers, asking a few broad questions, before opening it up to questions from the audience. Even if you don’t ask anything yourself it’s a great way to learn a bit more about the artists and form a deeper understanding of the work. Sometimes, things that you noticed but didn’t understand will be explained, and it can mean you come away feeling more connected to the work.
8. Let it soak in.
Good art stays on the mind, and will keep popping back into your head days or even weeks after you encountered it. This happens with good dance work too, and I’ve found that sometimes a show can leave me feeling a bit confused or spaced out, but in a few days time I’ll have formed some more concrete thoughts and be able to articulate what I saw. This process is incredibly valuable, and it’s good to let the initial experience sit with you for a while to be pondered on. Think about what you’ll do after a show to help facilitate a good old ponder – maybe don’t go home and instantly switch on the tv or scroll on Instagram; as tempting as this is, it’s a sure way to disconnect from what you just saw.
9. Talk about it with your friends.
Another great way to let things soak in is by talking about the piece, either with people who were there with you or with other friends and family. You might find it hard at first to describe what happened and what you thought of it, but the process of trying to articulate what you saw is a great way to process your thoughts and opinions. It can also be a way of trying to figure out things that weren’t clear, or to get a different perspective on something you didn’t like or relate to.
It can be difficult to explain contemporary dance to people who have never seen it (trust me!), but I’ve found that once you get going people tend to be really interested. And who knows, maybe next time you’ll have an extra theatre buddy to take with you!
10. You don’t have to get it!
This is the most important of all the tips – you don’t have to understand the show. Contemporary dance, like with a lot of modern art, exists to provoke audiences, stir a reaction, create a response. It is enough to simply experience the work, connect with it in your own way, think some thoughts – you don’t need to understand every decision that the choreographer made. Sometimes there is nothing to understand!
Nobody likes to feel lost or confused, but by taking the pressure off ‘getting it’, you open yourself up to a lot more enjoyment. Sometimes it’s enough to just think “That was cool”.
Photo by Becca Hunt.
This is the first in my “Beginners’ Guide” for engaging with dance. It’s part of my ongoing efforts to make contemporary dance more accessible to a wider audience.
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This made me feel better about not understanding things!
Thanks for the sharing of experience - I think there are parallels to be drawn with contemporary poetry scene experiences. You’ve made me want to track down some dance performances (though I’m in Shropshire!!) 🙏🏻