Why Modern Matters - Dance Studio Life Magazine - March 2010
By Bonner Odell
“What exactly is modern dance?” It’s a question the teachers at studios that offer modern are likely used to hearing. And it can be a notoriously hard one to answer. In fact, it could be argued that there are as many definitions of modern dance as there are modern-dance makers, because at the heart of the form’s identity is self-expression.
The short history of modern dance is a wildly eclectic one, riddled with rule-breakers and revolutionaries. But since Isadora Duncan first took to the stage, barefoot, at the turn of the century, one theme continues to emerge in every generation: the celebration of the individual. Techniques established by seminal modern choreographers like Martha Graham, José Limón, Katherine Dunham, and Merce Cunningham continue to provide a framework for modern-dance training. But no explanation of modern—and no curriculum for it—is complete without the essential ingredients of exploration, creation, and self-discovery. So how does an instructor create a class environment specific to preteens and teenagers in which these goals can thrive?
Creative expression as priority
Top educators agree that young students develop a passion for modern when they begin to understand the motivation for movement. “I always start from an emotional level,” says Roger Turner about his work with students encountering the form for the first time. A dance artist and teacher at the Center for Modern Dance Education in Hackensack, New Jersey, he teaches teens in a variety of contexts, from the studio to public high schools to at-risk youth programs.
After explaining the ground rules (such as no making fun) and that there is no right or wrong way to move, Turner might ask students to “come up with one word that expresses how they are feeling today.” He then has them express that word through a single movement on the floor. “It’s important to connect to the expression they’re trying for, so I might mirror their movements or say, ‘When you squeezed yourself into a ball, I got a lonely feeling.’ Right away they realize they are communicating something, regardless of whether they have dance experience.”
Introducing improvisational exercises early in the lesson creates a sense of play and possibility that can carry over to the entire class. Students learn to approach even the more challenging aspects of technique with an attitude of curiosity rather than fear or mere determination.
Ellie Potts Barrett, a sought-after modern-dance instructor and creator of a modern-dance syllabus for the Florida Dance Masters Organization, warms up her students with a series of creative locomotor activities. “I try to grab them right off,” she says. “I don’t dive into technique right away. I’ll have them move around the room first: walk, skip, slide, hop, jump, leap, run —freeze! Then, ‘Walk with your head leading; write your name with your shoulder; melt like butter in a hot frying pan.’ When I’ve got them hooked, we’ll work on prances, drops, and other Humphrey/Limón-based exercises.”
Getting students to interact early on also helps build an atmosphere of trust in which students can experiment and take risks. Roberta Wong, a modern-dance instructor at Jordan Dance Academy in Indianapolis, uses a variety of theater games and cooperative exercises to create a spirit of camaraderie. “I’ll have students mirror one another in pairs, or work in groups to create a short skit based on a theme of the day or prompt. ‘You just received a phone call with some important news.’ They act it out and the class guesses what it is. Or, based on workshop material I learned from Dance Kaleidoscope’s education program, ‘Act out a morning scene, like washing your hair, then abstract the movement.’ I’ll structure the groups so that shy students are placed with a more experienced one. It gives the more self-assured students a chance to take a leadership role.”
Dancers who feel self-conscious improvising may respond more confidently to manipulating movement they have already learned. Before introducing imagination-based activities, Wong leads her students through a set warm-up. She then has them take the first 32 counts and change the quality. “I might ask them to show me a heavy quality, or a silky one, or to do the movement in slow motion or fast forward,” she says. “Doing the improv through a structured phrase is really helpful if they’re timid or not used to creating, because it gives them something to work from.”
Through creative problem solving, students develop an approach to movement that goes beyond imitation to creation. “As pre-teens and teenagers, they’re trying to show everybody who they are, but they don’t yet fully understand who they are, so they tend to fall back on what they see in the media,” observes Katie Kruger, a dance artist and teacher at Shawl-Anderson Dance Center in Berkeley, California. While popular television shows like So You Think You Can Dance and America’s Best Dance Crew are sparking new interest in dance among young people, Kruger feels, modern can move them beyond a desire to replicate stylish moves to an exploration of where movement comes from.
Technique as means to an end
If the ultimate objective of modern-dance education is self-expression, technique provides students with a vocabulary with which to articulate their ideas and experience. A Graham contraction, Limón triplet, or Cunningham upper-body curve opens up new movement possibilities while grounding students in a rich modern-dance legacy. “I try to communicate the historical heritage of the form,” says Barrett. “I want them to realize this is a great gift that’s being passed down to them.”
As in any dance form, students of modern need to learn to integrate and perform movement demonstrated by a teacher or choreographer. Teaching set phrases helps build muscle memory and performance-quality skills. But an emphasis on clear, authentic technique need not compete with the goal of cultivating creativity. By emphasizing the intent of a Horton flat back or Humphrey side tilt—the aesthetic or emotional quality it evokes—teachers help broaden the creative choices available to students in their own dance making.
“I try to grab them right off. I don’t dive into technique right away. I’ll have them move around the room first: walk, skip, slide, hop, jump, leap, run —freeze!” —Ellie Potts Barrett, modern dance instructor
“As a modern teacher,” Turner explains, “you have to be able to execute the movements so the students know what to strive for. But the ultimate goal should be to help them express what they want to express. My students get really excited when they learn that first piece of Graham technique that helps them get across what they’re trying to communicate. It’s important for them to know what Graham was trying to express, but that’s secondary. First they have to connect to the movement from their own emotional experience.”
An effective way to highlight how technique can serve creativity is to have students create their own choreography using vocabulary covered in class. Kruger develops a combination around a particular goal her students need to work on, such as getting into and out of the floor seamlessly or communicating intent through focus. She then teaches the phrase over four successive classes; two classes on the right side, and two on the left. During the fourth class, she condenses the lesson and has students manipulate the material to create their own short dances. “I might have them take eight movements or so from the phrase and rearrange the order,” she says. “Then I’ll ask them to change the orientation of the movements in space to create relationships between the dancers.” Assignments along these lines help students take ownership of their technical training as they use it to make creative decisions.
Choreographing the teenage experience
Beyond teaching them choreographic skills, creating their own dances can help students process their experiences as preteens and teenagers. The years between the ages of 12 and 18 can be tumultuous ones, and choreography can provide a critical outlet. “Their bodies and voices are changing, their limbs are growing, and there’s an influx of hormones,” says Nicole Zvarik, director of the dance program at Bayside STEM Academy in San Mateo, California. “Their peers exert a huge influence, and they can be extremely insecure. Making dances gives them the chance to work through all that intense stuff they’re going through.”
Zvarik describes one assignment that required her students to create a dance about a class they were taking in school. One group chose lunchtime. “I told them that was breaking the rule, but since rule-breaking was in keeping with the spirit of modern dance, they could do it anyway,” she laughs. “They came up with this intricate piece about friendship interactions in the cafeteria. They love to make dances about their peers. I think it helps them process the social activity in their lives, which can be so overwhelming at that age.”
Choreographing also helps students discover their personal strengths as emerging artists. “Not all students are performers,” says Zvarik. “Some are creators. Even if you only devote a small amount of time at the end of class to choreography, it gives those students a chance to shine.”
Music for emerging moderns
In the quest to open students to new ways of thinking and moving, there is no more powerful tool than music. While peers and popular media tend to dictate the everyday musical tastes of most pre-teens and teens, modern class provides a safe environment for exploring new genres. “I rarely use my students’ requests for music,” says Kruger. “I want to open their ears and help them find new motivations for movement.”
One way she does this is by having the class dance the same phrase to a variety of musical selections. The students then discuss how changing the music affected the way they viewed the dance. Wong uses a similar approach. A free-dance section to a collage of artists—Bach, Yanni, Arvo Pärt, Bela Fleck, Steve Reich —demonstrates how music affects movement choice and quality.
Modern class can also teach students how to choose music for their own choreography. “I try to help them understand that their intention should be the subject of the dance, not the music,” says Turner. “That’s not something we tend to teach younger students. Sometimes I’ll let them bring in their own music, but it has to accompany my choreography. Or I’ll have them come up with the choreography, and then perform it to my music. I want them to learn the difference between making a musical choice for a piece of choreography and choreographing to music.”
While many dancers don’t encounter such concepts until college, encouraging young dancers to think critically about their artistic choices can only forge better artists in the long run.
Modern beyond the studio
For students who want to pursue dance beyond their high school years, modern serves as preparation for the dance environments they are likely to encounter at the college, conservatory, and professional levels. Now more than ever, college recruiters and artistic directors look for technical versatility and a high comfort level with generating movement in prospective dancers.
“I think every dance school should offer modern,” says Barrett, “because the dance curriculum at most colleges is 80 percent modern and 20 percent ballet.” Because most of Barrett’s students audition for college dance departments, she makes it a point to talk regularly with recruiters from top programs. “I want them to be better prepared than I was,” she says.
She tells the story of auditioning in 1969 for Juilliard, where she performed for a panel of adjudicators that included Martha Graham. “The girl before me danced this stunning, abstract solo,” she recalls. “I’d never seen anything like it. Then I went on with my musical theater selection from West Side Story. Needless to say, they rejected me.”
Barrett laughs when she looks back on the experience but warns that dancers entering today’s pre-professional dance landscape without exposure to modern may face an even greater disadvantage than she did.
Despite the growing predominance of modern in the college dance world, online studio directories throughout the United States and Canada show that less than 50 percent of schools that serve 12- to 18-year-olds offer modern. While many studio owners recognize its value, they may not feel qualified to teach it. In these cases Barrett suggests connecting with dance departments at local universities or community colleges where students may be open to teaching opportunities.
Some studios find that the term “contemporary” generates less skepticism than does “modern” and therefore makes for an easier sell. In many urban dance communities, the terms are used interchangeably. Schools that use “contemporary,” however, should make sure their definition correlates to the term’s meaning in the wider dance world. Lyrical dance, popular among young dancers for its emphasis on creative interpretation, is rarely practiced outside competition and recital settings and should not be confused with contemporary dance.
Spreading the word
Once a studio does decide to launch a modern program, how can it convince parents and students that modern is worth the venture into the unknown? One way is to ensure that the desk staff is educated about the form and can articulate the instructor’s goals. Observation windows allow fellow dancers to see for themselves what goes on in class, and dynamic modern performances at recitals can kindle interest in younger dancers. Some schools encourage modern students to choreograph their own work for concerts or informal showings.
However, many schools find that the most effective means of generating new modern students is word of mouth. If students genuinely enjoy class, they are sure to tell their friends. Instructors can usually gauge the fun factor of their classes by their own engagement. “As a teacher, you always have to keep it alive for yourself,” says Wong. “There’s a phrase I try to live by: ‘Now replace ambition with curiosity.’ When I’m invested in the material, that curiosity becomes contagious.”
Perhaps the highest joy of teaching modern dance is witnessing students’ process of self-discovery as it unfolds. The long-term results may surprise. Who’s to say whether the self-conscious 15-year-old in the corner might emerge as the next Twyla Tharp or Paul Taylor? Except, of course, the dance she would bring to the world would be utterly her own.
“What exactly is modern dance?” It’s a question the teachers at studios that offer modern are likely used to hearing. And it can be a notoriously hard one to answer. In fact, it could be argued that there are as many definitions of modern dance as there are modern-dance makers, because at the heart of the form’s identity is self-expression.
The short history of modern dance is a wildly eclectic one, riddled with rule-breakers and revolutionaries. But since Isadora Duncan first took to the stage, barefoot, at the turn of the century, one theme continues to emerge in every generation: the celebration of the individual. Techniques established by seminal modern choreographers like Martha Graham, José Limón, Katherine Dunham, and Merce Cunningham continue to provide a framework for modern-dance training. But no explanation of modern—and no curriculum for it—is complete without the essential ingredients of exploration, creation, and self-discovery. So how does an instructor create a class environment specific to preteens and teenagers in which these goals can thrive?
Creative expression as priority
Top educators agree that young students develop a passion for modern when they begin to understand the motivation for movement. “I always start from an emotional level,” says Roger Turner about his work with students encountering the form for the first time. A dance artist and teacher at the Center for Modern Dance Education in Hackensack, New Jersey, he teaches teens in a variety of contexts, from the studio to public high schools to at-risk youth programs.
After explaining the ground rules (such as no making fun) and that there is no right or wrong way to move, Turner might ask students to “come up with one word that expresses how they are feeling today.” He then has them express that word through a single movement on the floor. “It’s important to connect to the expression they’re trying for, so I might mirror their movements or say, ‘When you squeezed yourself into a ball, I got a lonely feeling.’ Right away they realize they are communicating something, regardless of whether they have dance experience.”
Introducing improvisational exercises early in the lesson creates a sense of play and possibility that can carry over to the entire class. Students learn to approach even the more challenging aspects of technique with an attitude of curiosity rather than fear or mere determination.
Ellie Potts Barrett, a sought-after modern-dance instructor and creator of a modern-dance syllabus for the Florida Dance Masters Organization, warms up her students with a series of creative locomotor activities. “I try to grab them right off,” she says. “I don’t dive into technique right away. I’ll have them move around the room first: walk, skip, slide, hop, jump, leap, run —freeze! Then, ‘Walk with your head leading; write your name with your shoulder; melt like butter in a hot frying pan.’ When I’ve got them hooked, we’ll work on prances, drops, and other Humphrey/Limón-based exercises.”
Getting students to interact early on also helps build an atmosphere of trust in which students can experiment and take risks. Roberta Wong, a modern-dance instructor at Jordan Dance Academy in Indianapolis, uses a variety of theater games and cooperative exercises to create a spirit of camaraderie. “I’ll have students mirror one another in pairs, or work in groups to create a short skit based on a theme of the day or prompt. ‘You just received a phone call with some important news.’ They act it out and the class guesses what it is. Or, based on workshop material I learned from Dance Kaleidoscope’s education program, ‘Act out a morning scene, like washing your hair, then abstract the movement.’ I’ll structure the groups so that shy students are placed with a more experienced one. It gives the more self-assured students a chance to take a leadership role.”
Dancers who feel self-conscious improvising may respond more confidently to manipulating movement they have already learned. Before introducing imagination-based activities, Wong leads her students through a set warm-up. She then has them take the first 32 counts and change the quality. “I might ask them to show me a heavy quality, or a silky one, or to do the movement in slow motion or fast forward,” she says. “Doing the improv through a structured phrase is really helpful if they’re timid or not used to creating, because it gives them something to work from.”
Through creative problem solving, students develop an approach to movement that goes beyond imitation to creation. “As pre-teens and teenagers, they’re trying to show everybody who they are, but they don’t yet fully understand who they are, so they tend to fall back on what they see in the media,” observes Katie Kruger, a dance artist and teacher at Shawl-Anderson Dance Center in Berkeley, California. While popular television shows like So You Think You Can Dance and America’s Best Dance Crew are sparking new interest in dance among young people, Kruger feels, modern can move them beyond a desire to replicate stylish moves to an exploration of where movement comes from.
Technique as means to an end
If the ultimate objective of modern-dance education is self-expression, technique provides students with a vocabulary with which to articulate their ideas and experience. A Graham contraction, Limón triplet, or Cunningham upper-body curve opens up new movement possibilities while grounding students in a rich modern-dance legacy. “I try to communicate the historical heritage of the form,” says Barrett. “I want them to realize this is a great gift that’s being passed down to them.”
As in any dance form, students of modern need to learn to integrate and perform movement demonstrated by a teacher or choreographer. Teaching set phrases helps build muscle memory and performance-quality skills. But an emphasis on clear, authentic technique need not compete with the goal of cultivating creativity. By emphasizing the intent of a Horton flat back or Humphrey side tilt—the aesthetic or emotional quality it evokes—teachers help broaden the creative choices available to students in their own dance making.
“I try to grab them right off. I don’t dive into technique right away. I’ll have them move around the room first: walk, skip, slide, hop, jump, leap, run —freeze!” —Ellie Potts Barrett, modern dance instructor
“As a modern teacher,” Turner explains, “you have to be able to execute the movements so the students know what to strive for. But the ultimate goal should be to help them express what they want to express. My students get really excited when they learn that first piece of Graham technique that helps them get across what they’re trying to communicate. It’s important for them to know what Graham was trying to express, but that’s secondary. First they have to connect to the movement from their own emotional experience.”
An effective way to highlight how technique can serve creativity is to have students create their own choreography using vocabulary covered in class. Kruger develops a combination around a particular goal her students need to work on, such as getting into and out of the floor seamlessly or communicating intent through focus. She then teaches the phrase over four successive classes; two classes on the right side, and two on the left. During the fourth class, she condenses the lesson and has students manipulate the material to create their own short dances. “I might have them take eight movements or so from the phrase and rearrange the order,” she says. “Then I’ll ask them to change the orientation of the movements in space to create relationships between the dancers.” Assignments along these lines help students take ownership of their technical training as they use it to make creative decisions.
Choreographing the teenage experience
Beyond teaching them choreographic skills, creating their own dances can help students process their experiences as preteens and teenagers. The years between the ages of 12 and 18 can be tumultuous ones, and choreography can provide a critical outlet. “Their bodies and voices are changing, their limbs are growing, and there’s an influx of hormones,” says Nicole Zvarik, director of the dance program at Bayside STEM Academy in San Mateo, California. “Their peers exert a huge influence, and they can be extremely insecure. Making dances gives them the chance to work through all that intense stuff they’re going through.”
Zvarik describes one assignment that required her students to create a dance about a class they were taking in school. One group chose lunchtime. “I told them that was breaking the rule, but since rule-breaking was in keeping with the spirit of modern dance, they could do it anyway,” she laughs. “They came up with this intricate piece about friendship interactions in the cafeteria. They love to make dances about their peers. I think it helps them process the social activity in their lives, which can be so overwhelming at that age.”
Choreographing also helps students discover their personal strengths as emerging artists. “Not all students are performers,” says Zvarik. “Some are creators. Even if you only devote a small amount of time at the end of class to choreography, it gives those students a chance to shine.”
Music for emerging moderns
In the quest to open students to new ways of thinking and moving, there is no more powerful tool than music. While peers and popular media tend to dictate the everyday musical tastes of most pre-teens and teens, modern class provides a safe environment for exploring new genres. “I rarely use my students’ requests for music,” says Kruger. “I want to open their ears and help them find new motivations for movement.”
One way she does this is by having the class dance the same phrase to a variety of musical selections. The students then discuss how changing the music affected the way they viewed the dance. Wong uses a similar approach. A free-dance section to a collage of artists—Bach, Yanni, Arvo Pärt, Bela Fleck, Steve Reich —demonstrates how music affects movement choice and quality.
Modern class can also teach students how to choose music for their own choreography. “I try to help them understand that their intention should be the subject of the dance, not the music,” says Turner. “That’s not something we tend to teach younger students. Sometimes I’ll let them bring in their own music, but it has to accompany my choreography. Or I’ll have them come up with the choreography, and then perform it to my music. I want them to learn the difference between making a musical choice for a piece of choreography and choreographing to music.”
While many dancers don’t encounter such concepts until college, encouraging young dancers to think critically about their artistic choices can only forge better artists in the long run.
Modern beyond the studio
For students who want to pursue dance beyond their high school years, modern serves as preparation for the dance environments they are likely to encounter at the college, conservatory, and professional levels. Now more than ever, college recruiters and artistic directors look for technical versatility and a high comfort level with generating movement in prospective dancers.
“I think every dance school should offer modern,” says Barrett, “because the dance curriculum at most colleges is 80 percent modern and 20 percent ballet.” Because most of Barrett’s students audition for college dance departments, she makes it a point to talk regularly with recruiters from top programs. “I want them to be better prepared than I was,” she says.
She tells the story of auditioning in 1969 for Juilliard, where she performed for a panel of adjudicators that included Martha Graham. “The girl before me danced this stunning, abstract solo,” she recalls. “I’d never seen anything like it. Then I went on with my musical theater selection from West Side Story. Needless to say, they rejected me.”
Barrett laughs when she looks back on the experience but warns that dancers entering today’s pre-professional dance landscape without exposure to modern may face an even greater disadvantage than she did.
Despite the growing predominance of modern in the college dance world, online studio directories throughout the United States and Canada show that less than 50 percent of schools that serve 12- to 18-year-olds offer modern. While many studio owners recognize its value, they may not feel qualified to teach it. In these cases Barrett suggests connecting with dance departments at local universities or community colleges where students may be open to teaching opportunities.
Some studios find that the term “contemporary” generates less skepticism than does “modern” and therefore makes for an easier sell. In many urban dance communities, the terms are used interchangeably. Schools that use “contemporary,” however, should make sure their definition correlates to the term’s meaning in the wider dance world. Lyrical dance, popular among young dancers for its emphasis on creative interpretation, is rarely practiced outside competition and recital settings and should not be confused with contemporary dance.
Spreading the word
Once a studio does decide to launch a modern program, how can it convince parents and students that modern is worth the venture into the unknown? One way is to ensure that the desk staff is educated about the form and can articulate the instructor’s goals. Observation windows allow fellow dancers to see for themselves what goes on in class, and dynamic modern performances at recitals can kindle interest in younger dancers. Some schools encourage modern students to choreograph their own work for concerts or informal showings.
However, many schools find that the most effective means of generating new modern students is word of mouth. If students genuinely enjoy class, they are sure to tell their friends. Instructors can usually gauge the fun factor of their classes by their own engagement. “As a teacher, you always have to keep it alive for yourself,” says Wong. “There’s a phrase I try to live by: ‘Now replace ambition with curiosity.’ When I’m invested in the material, that curiosity becomes contagious.”
Perhaps the highest joy of teaching modern dance is witnessing students’ process of self-discovery as it unfolds. The long-term results may surprise. Who’s to say whether the self-conscious 15-year-old in the corner might emerge as the next Twyla Tharp or Paul Taylor? Except, of course, the dance she would bring to the world would be utterly her own.
