Anna Sokolow had certain pieces that offered a propensity towards the acting craft. The movement was sparse and almost pedestrian. Without the superfluous beatitudes and ornamental architecture that most dance displays. Rather, I was exposed to the circumstances and forced to deal with them. The choreography was simple, but excruciatingly demanding in an unexpected way.

In such circumstances, I had to take my cues from my feelings. And Anna said to me on more than one occasion, “Feel it first, then move”. The choreography threw me into the social meaning of the piece, which was always powerful enough to drive my intent almost without effort. Her choreography dug so deep into the human condition that as an actor there was so much rich content to exploit. It was liberating. Anna spoiled me.

Anna’s genius lied in her ability to create movement that inherited its power from the way she built in the relationships between the players and with the audience. The message was obvious, yet deeply profound, and intuitive. Many people who saw her work spoke of how her pieces tended to linger inside them for several days after seeing it, only to be slammed with a moment of epiphany that emerged into their consciousness out of nowhere.

“Content is that which a work betrays but does not parade.” -Erwin Panofsky

I sincerely believe that there really isn’t a difference between dance and acting when it comes to their underlying principles. Because when you execute movement, whether it is pedestrian behavior or dynamic beatitudes, the source is the same; the instrument of our bodies.

But there seems to be a gap between acting and dancing. In my experience teaching movement for actors, there has been a consistent trend. Movement for actors classes are often at the bottom of the actor’s list of courses to take. As important as it is for actors to train their bodies in movement, it is just as important for dancers to train in acting.

When dancers move, yes they are displaying the aesthetic design of the choreographer, but it often stops there. You’ll see the dancer’s execution brilliant, smooth and flawless. And you’ll see this intense look on their face as if they are trying to hypnotize the space, deep in concentration, the same face you see on an athlete as they execute their task. Or they will have a pasted “en face” smile, or the zombie look, as if anything happening in front of the head is irrelevant and detached.

But I thought dance was an art form? Isn’t that what distinguishes dance from sports? Or does sports dwarf dance when it comes to the physical aesthetic expression of the potential of the human body, like gymnastics or even the circus? How can contemporary dance possibly compete? Sometimes, it seems like they are trying to do exactly that. I see dancers swinging on ropes and doing vertical gymnastics on velcro. Will audiences soon wise up and realize that the circus can provide an experience that makes the new novelty of contemporary dance drably impotent?

“Spectator sports are another secular surrogate for sacred practices. They provide something comparable to the pageantry of religious ceremony, the awe inspired by creation stories of symbols of transcendent power, or even the coordination enabled by common language and training. There is a quality of loyalty evoked in fans that goes beyond esthetic appreciation of athletic skills. The total emotional experience goes far beyond the game itself; there are symbols (the colors and emblems of the game), spectacles (parades, cheerleaders, mass activities), and authorities (coaches, judges). The Olympic Games utilize explicitly religious symbols stripped of religious meaning. The clearest example is the “eternal flame” carried from the site of one Olympic meeting to the next. The world cup in soccer elicits a response by fans that can only be deemed “holy”: chanting, singing, imploring the deities/players, and so forth. American football serves the same function… The object is to dominate, the experience, for the viewers, is televised adrenaline.”
Communication and the Human Condition – W. Barnett Pearce

Why bother to see dance when you can get a much more entertaining and deeper emotional experience with sports, especially since contemporary dance is stripping away the inherent social and emotional meaning and intensity.

There is a human being behind the movement. And too often what underlies the aesthetic form of dance, its intent, its premise, its message, is all but ignored. The opposite occurs as well. Dancers who are unfairly burdened with the task of “acting” in their roles to cover for the lack of creativity in the choreography are often found lacking in the necessary skills to pull it off. Dancers need acting as much as actors need dance, but both also need training in behavior, personality theory, social emotional intelligence etc.

An acting for dancers class is an exploration on how the faculties of the human condition translate to highly stylized and abstract movement without neglecting the circumstances necessary to lay the foundation of logic that is accessible to other human beings in order to endow them with a particular message.

When a movement becomes stylized it also inherits symbolism. This symbolism ranges from abstract to concrete, but it always has a connotation. And this is something the choreographer can take advantage of. He or she has to have the skills of an acting director. The dancer needs to understand the elements in those terms in addition to spatial design.

The basic elements of an acting for dancers class should include the following:

1. What are the social circumstances surrounding the moment. Religious? Political? Don’t leave this void in hopes of it being more universally accessible to the audience. Rest assured, they will by default have a subjective interpretation of the movement. But the more specific the intent of the statement by the dancer/choreographer the more profound the effect the audience will experience.

2. What are the relationships among the dancers’ characters? What social protocols are they observing or violating? How the dancers portray this is vital. If dancers are interacting for the sake of design alone, then there is an intimate connection that is broken with the audience that they have a right too. It is unfair to leave this responsibility solely up to the audience to construct the meaning. It seems odd to me that people would bother seeing performance art if they had to do all the work of gaining meaning from it. You may as well hang up empty canvases throughout MoMA and just let the viewers construct their own concepts of whatever happens to be in their imagination at the time. Now that I think of it, I’m sure it’s been done. And I’m sure it was heralded by the critics as one of the most brilliant exhibits ever to grace the face of the earth.

3. What are the obvious and subtle characteristics of the body of the character the dancer is portraying? Little things don’t mean a lot, they mean everything. What makes a piece powerful are those tiny nuances that audiences perceive unconsciously. They construct paradigms in their subconscious that either quickly or slowly surface to their consciousness and affects them on many emotional levels. They feel proud of the fact that they caught it, as if this moment was exclusive to them, which it is. They are now engrossed in the movement, and their human condition is easily accessible to you through this intimate connection. Many of you dancers out there have been lucky enough to experience this connection with the audience, stringing them along and feeding them those little morsels only at the exact right timing. And when it grooves, it’s magic.

There is much more to an acting for dancers class than just the above mentioned elements. The choreographer can benefit greatly from having techniques for directing actors, as theatre directors benefit from choreographic techniques. Likewise the dancer with acting skills has the potential to connect to the audience in rather profound ways. There is a symbiotic relationship between performer and audience that could almost be considered sacred.