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How (Not To) Write Choreography

By September 6, 2013 belly dance, performance, practice

It’s a twelve-step program.

STEP 1: FANTASIZATION

Listen to a lot of music as you go about your daily life – washing dishes, riding the bus, at the grocery store, while doing repetitive tasks during your day job, while you sew, etc. I use the random shuffle on my ipod a lot for this.  When something sounds good to you, let your mind daydream about dancing about this.  Can you envision a choreography to this?  Is it cool?

If I find myself daydreaming multiple times about the same song, or if the song really strikes me the first time I hear it, then I add it to my ipod playlist called “possible choreo”.

STEP 2: SINKING IN

Once a song makes it to the “possible choreo” playlist, listen to it more frequently.  Use this list for creative drills and improvisation during your practice sessions- that playlist is guaranteed to be songs you like.  Learn the songs.  Love the songs. Live the songs. Get to know their ins and outs, their rises and falls, their little ticks and tocks.   Think about how they might be interpreted in dance.

STEP 3: COMMITMENT ISSUES

Realize that it’s now time to come up with a new choreography.  Maybe you haven’t written one in a while, and you want to exercise your choreography muscles. Maybe you realize you’ve agreed to do a new solo at a show in three weeks.  Or two weeks.  Whatevs. Realize with some trepidation that you are now moving from “one of these songs are really cool and would be fun and awesome for dancing!” to “I am now committing to spending a lot of time with this song, writing a piece for it, and probably presenting that piece to the public”.

Listen to your current favourite two to four songs over and over.  Improvise to them, and come up with a few combinations.  Consider their respective formats and moods, and how this might translate into dancing.  Think about the kind of venues they might be best for, and/or the venue you’ve already agreed to perform at.  Sing these songs to yourself in the shower, in the car, while your falling asleep.  Start to develop some anxiety about what is clearly a momentous song-decision. Devise endless  “pro and con” lists. Wonder if listening to them too much will cause you to dislike them.  Worry about making the “right” decision.  Generally fret.

At some point, abruptly tire about agonizing about your indecision and remember that it’s just a song, and if it doesn’t work out you can just pick another damn song.  Make a snap decision based on whatever seems appealing in that moment.

STEP 4: THE HONEYMOON

Feel pleased with yourself.  You have chosen an awesome song with a ton of potential, and you have at least 8,763 great ideas for it. Listen to the song a bunch more.  Love your song.  Love yourself for having chosen it.

Trumpets!

Trumpets!

Carefully listen your song and write out a “map” of it. Personally,  I divide it into counts (usually of 8, but it depends on how the song is structured – I was recently working with a waltz, and it got divided into counts of 6 due to the way the lyrics were structured).  I the divide the counts into sections based on what’s happening in the music, and include little notes based on changes in instrumentation, lyrics, tempo, etc..  I add some time signatures to help me when I’m drilling particular sections.  I might also make a few notes based on ideas for what I might do during those sections.  I can go into this in more detail at another time.

Once you have translated your song into written/symbolic form, feel even more pleased with myself.  The work is half done, right? There’s only six parts of the song to fill! That will take what, like 20 minutes to create? You have all these rockin’ ideas ready to go! Look at these pages of esoteric looking shorthand you have written down!  You’re a DANCER!!

Now you are ready to actually start writing your masterpiece.  As in, putting movement with music in a pleasing way.  Start with one section at at time, or jump around between sections depending on what works best. You might also have some themes running throughout a dance – perhaps patterns for moving around in space, or particular combinations you will repeat throughout. ‘Cause that will make the whole thing a lot easier, right?

Start choreographizing (shut up, that’s totally a word), either putting together movements that you already have planned for this dance or by improvising and seeing what your body wants to do.  Get about two counts of eight done in no time.  Realize you are a choreography genius!

STEP 5: REALITY

Start that third count of eight.  Realize you are starting to run out of ideas.  No worries though, your official looking maps and choreographic genius will pull you through.  Run through what you’ve got and add on just a little more.  Three more beats, one more beat.  Whew, you did another 8!  Yay! Remind yourself that creativity is work, and that you are willing to do this work.  Over another few practices, choreograph, revise, and re-choreograph about half the song.  Feel like things are going OK.

Remember that you should probably film what you’ve got so far to assess how it’s going.

STEP 6: DESPAIR

Film what you’ve got so far.  Watch it immediately. Hate it.  All of it.  Wonder why you thought this song was a good idea.  Wonder why you thought you were ready to write your own choreography.  Question why you bother with this dancing thing in the first place, when clearly you are the worst belly dancer in the history of humankind.

Give up on choreography forever.  Do some basic drills for the rest of your practice.

STEP 7: RE-IGNITION

Stay away from choreography.  Try not to think about the ridiculousness of your decision to try to write a choreography in the first place. Carry on with the rest of your practices as usual, except avoiding your recently chosen song like it’s a leprous song-disease.

After a few days, start to come to your senses.  Wonder if there’s a chance you overreacted.  Watch the dreaded video again.  Hmm, maybe it’s not so terrible. You don’t love everything about it, but it has some redeeming qualities.

STEP 8: FOLLOW THROUGH

Power through and create the rest of the choreography.  Repeatedly remind yourself that this doesn’t need to be your ultimate masterpiece.  That show is coming up and you just need something to perform.  Write it all down and have it pretty clear in your head.  Start to feel better.  You’re going to have a piece to perform, and you think it’s actually shaping up into something decent.

STEP 9: DESPAIR ROUND II

Film the whole thing.  Hate it. Dramatically fling yourself down on the nearest soft furniture, or the floor if no furniture is available.  Tragically cry “Alas! Woe!” Give up on dancing forever.  Spend about three minutes in this state, then realize you are being ridiculous.  Be thankful that Despair Round II is much shorter lived than despair round one.

STEP 10: ACCEPTANCE

Pick yourself up and watch the video again.  Make some notes (mental or otherwise) about how to improve the dance.  Maybe if you slow down there, and add something with your arms here…

Film it again with the adjustments. Make more adjustments.  Film again.  And again. And again.  Realize it doesn’t look so terrible. Adjust, adjust, adjust.  You know what?  It looks OK! You don’t need to give up dancing forever and become a forest hermit!

STEP 11: PRESENTATION

The big day is here!  Perform that thing!  Feel confident as you put on your makeup, your costume, and hang out with other dancers back stage.  This is going to be good!  Only realize you are profoundly nervous five minutes before you go on.  Consider running screaming from the building, but manage not to.

The curtain rises.  You gut may feel like evicting your pre-show snack.  The music starts.  You’re not sure you can do this.  You dance for 10 seconds, and then realize this is awesome!  You LOVE dancing!  The crowd is with you!  You forgot that count of 8, but you danced right through it!

Applause!

STEP 12: REVISIT

You did it!  Feel properly proud of yourself.  It all worked out.  You even got some genuine compliments afterward.  The work isn’t done though.  Think about how the performance went.  Did all those travelling steps almost take you off stage (good thing you adjusted as you went).  Did your hair tassels hit you in the face during a spin?  Do you have a new idea for that temp change?

Keep working on the piece, albeit less intensely.  Improve it every time you perform it.  (This is my favourite part, actually).  Keep striving to make it better until the piece is retired.

 

And so ends the life cycle of a choreography.

*Important note: I sincerely hope that other people experience less dance-related melodrama than I do, but  based on conversations I’ve had with other dancers, and other artists generally, I’m not convinced it’s the case.  We’re all in this together, people!

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