Making Dance is a lot like Pottery
Hear me out
You start with a raw, earthy, lump of material.
It doesn’t really look like anything yet but it’s pleasantly pliant and moldable. The possibilities seem endless as you pass it through your fingers, marvelling at its weight and potential.
You start to knead and stretch the material, asking questions of it. What if we tried it like this? How far can we push that? Ideas bounce around, the momentum picks up and the wheel begins to spin. As you work the material, shape begins to form, brief glimmers of what the finished piece might become flash through your mind’s eye, and you try to formulate a clear picture of what you’re making.
The excitement grows, the wheel spins, but this is where things get sticky. One wrong move, a slight bit of pressure in the wrong place and everything can spin out of control. Back to the wet lump. Doubts begin to creep in. Is this working? It doesn’t quite look how I thought it would yet. Maybe I should squish it all down and start again.
Gently, gently, the shaping is finished. The wheel slows, and you hold in your hands a fresh, still wet, perhaps slightly wonky, work of art. Still in its raw form, you see its potential, and now is the time to act. But first, patience.
The piece needs time to dry, to rest. If you’re too keen to move forward, it won’t be ready, and everything will go wrong. Wait, for the right moment, for partners to come on board, for emails to reach their destinations, for funding to arrive. The waiting can be the hardest part, but if that clay isn’t completely dry, your piece won’t survive the heat of the kiln.
Into the fire it goes.
The heat is overwhelming, and if the shaping process wasn’t quite right, any weaknesses in the form will now be your piece’s downfall. One side too thin, another too thick, everything a little underdeveloped? Stress points lead to cracks, and the piece crumbles under the pressure.
But, if everything is just right, consistent and smooth, what emerges from the kiln will be transformed; firm, solid, strong.
We don’t stop there. Now comes the glazing, adding detail, colour, expression, lighting, costume, sound design, marketing, set, props; the piece can transform entirely. As long as the form is strong, the decoration can take as long as it needs; it will come together.
Finally, finally, into the fire again. The heat of the audience’s stares will melt that glaze, lifting it to a searing, glassy heights. What emerges after the applause is transformed once again, taking on a life of its own, in that ephemeral fire of being witnessed.
I love this Pagan!
You write about dance so eloquently Pagan. I always appreciate your articles.