Samuel van der Swaagh

01/25/13

Journal Entry #3

     I think one theory that artists and scientists both agree on is that all stories derive their essence from motion. From the simple act of walking to the expressive flick of a paint brush, people communicate something, whether it is a narrative, thought, or an emotion. Also, according to Newton’s Laws of Thermodynamics and Motion, movement is the physical manifestation of change, which is the very basis of a story. Thus, dancing is a form of expression. In addition to reflecting a surrounding culture, dance is a language of infinite non-verbal words and phrases. Consequently, as an art medium, dance possesses the potential to tell powerful stories and lessons as well as the ability to heal. How come then do people become uncomfortable with postmodern dancing?

     For the longest time in history, dancing was only ballet, which is a form of dancing that involves linear and unnatural posture movements. Although ballet is a graceful form of dancing, modern dancers began to realize the limitations of ballet: it never incorporated the expression of the upper body. Postmodern dancers brought dancing to another level by instituting ordinary movements into performance dance. Postmodern dance emphasizes the profound fact that one can simply walk, and turn around and say something. Probably a quintessential example of postmodern dance is Bill T. Jones, an artist who choreographed “StillHere.”

     As the documentary stated well, which films terminally ill people in a survival workshop with Jones,  “StillHere” is not about a story, but about an extraordinary collaboration. In these workshops, Jones uses dance to help these sick people to boldly struggle with mortality, as well as to offer a platform for self-expression. In other words, “StillHere” challenges the terminally ill people to place their feelings and life story into motion.

     If I were to comment on my two favorite moments during the “StillHere” documentary I would first refer to an instant during the beginning of the movie. While Jones was challenging his participants to introduce themselves nonverbally, a woman performed a gesture that I believe exhibited the expressive power of motion. The woman’s gestures suggested that she never allowed people into her space, but eventually had to open herself to others in order to expel the lovesome things in her space. This particular moment during the workshops captivated me because it revealed the precious nature of all spaces, whether spiritual, physical, or metaphorical.

     Second, I found the final product of “StillHere” extremely compelling because in addition to incorporating the feelings of every member, it also expressed healing in the midst of mortality. The movements of the untrained dancers communicated raw feelings of passion and fears that unified all the participants. Also, the very fact that all the dancers’ movements expressed real feelings (i.e. not projected by the choreographer) made me genuinely wonder about my own mortality. As some would argue contrary to, the diseased dancers did not displayed any element of being victimized. Instead, which I found initially shocking, the dancers opened and shared their space with the audience by unabashedly pouring out their fears, loves and wants. Through the midst of all their struggles, the dancers encouraged the audience to remain bold by making a nonverbal statement of “I am still here!”