DANZ QUARTERLY No 2 December 2005

Looking Back – Should One?

By Shona Dunlop MacTavish

My present interest, following a long stretch of dancing years, is to see how far we have come since the early tremulous years of modern (Expressive or German) dance, and whether New Zealand as a country has indigenised the dance to any extent since that time.

I am intrigued to trace the way, like a braided river, the nature of a style or genre created at a certain time in history, eventually finds its own voice. In order to do this we must remind ourselves of the place where modern (contemporary) dance really began. We must remind ourselves of the place which cradled the child of its womb.

Apparently Nureyev’s favourite maxim was “If you look back from the ladder you’ll fall off. Never look back.” Nevertheless, I believe examining the route we have taken gives greater meaning to the development of any art form. As the popular saying goes “We need to know where we are coming from, and where we are going.” Artistic endeavours have always been fashioned by historical and political developments, while cultural identity would appear to help retain the true nature of its place or origin.

Although it is generally believed that modern dance began in America, where early experiments made by Isadora Duncan, Maude Allen, Louie Fuller, etc, were certainly attempted, it was in fact in Central Europe, with the Ausdrückstanz (Expressive Dance), where the true spark was kindled. Among the many dance groups that suddenly flooded the cities of Berlin, Dresden and Hamburg, none proved more adventurous than in Vienna.

Dance themes of dramatic intensity, light-hearted charm and humour became a feature of the Viennese School and broadened its impact. Gertrud Bodenwieser, Harald Kreutzberg, Rosalie and Grete Wiesenthal in particular were masters of this genre. Isadora was unquestionably the inspiration who gave them the courage to break from the conformity and superficiality into which the classical ballet had fallen.

The early modern dance following the First World War in Europe reflected so much of the historical and social world that the artists inhabited. They were inspired to dance their time in history and to share their discoveries with each other. Movements such as the Successionist movement, led by Gustav Klimt, inspired dancers to introduce decorative elements and curvilinear forms and patterns, which assisted them in their search for the wide gamut of emotions. Sensuality was not overlooked, but symbolism and probing commentaries upon world issues became their chief concern.

A characteristic of the early modern breakaway in Germany and Austria, was what we termed ABSOLUTE DANCE, or dance without music. Mary Wigman used her trommel (drum) to great effect. Most dance performances today are won over to musical accompaniment, for music provides the emanation of our impulse via rhythm and sound. Today’s dance tends to be more about life experiences. It is exciting to see works that deal with burning issues. This brings the dance in line with other art forms – drama, art, music and design.

The time and place in which we live reflects the way we speak, the clothes we wear, the things we want to dance about and the way we choose to use our bodies. In recent years in New Zealand, a period of pedestrian movement has given way to athletic mobility and far greater virtuosity. Themes of drug addiction, pollution, violence towards women, loneliness, despair, rejoicing and even political and religious statements have all become grist to the mill of theatrical creativity. The athletic bodies of young New Zealanders have met these requirements marvelously. They have become catalysts of their time. Sometimes one leaves the theatre with heightened blood pressure, realising that like the Greeks before, we too embody the life we see around us. In my own life I have discovered that life’s bitter moments often nourish and enrich creativity more than peace and quiet.

Beyond doubt, our dancers are very physical and impressive movers. I cannot recall when overseas ever seeing women lifting and carrying men with such ease. I do find, however, our choreographers inclined to allow too little time for repose. Dancers are rarely given time to adequately fill out a movement. Seemingly indifferent to the audience, they frequently end the dance by casually walking off stage. However I was quite won over by the recent performance of Michael Parmenter’s Commotion Company. There he assembled a combination of totally satisfying theatrical art. All aspects of his work integrated and each complemented the other to become totally involving theatre.  This was achieved through great clarity of concept.

An achievement of this kind can only be acquired after years of struggle and very hard work. I have till now believed that today’s discreet dance techniques and the advent of high modernism and post-modern dance had developed dancers unable to cope with or adjust to the movement styles in the1930s. Michael Parmenter does not require spectacular dance for its own sake but only when it adds to the telling, nor does he minimise movement (as so many do) to absurdity. Something of the Ausdrückstanz, their honest search for spiritual freedom and truth, is perceived in Michael’s work. It retains something of the beguiling lyrical qualities of early modern dance so seldom seen today.

Shona’s Dance Philosophy

I believe no art should have fixed rules – rather it should be in constant flux. I think modern dance (i.e. dance of our time) should be an individual quest for a distinct expression of life. Life that is too intellectual can be simply bewildering. Dance that is too emotional or self-indulgent can be embarrassing.

A truly creative artist is not representational, but must allow for the imagination. It is interesting to note how much choreography reflects the character of the creator. We have to know our bodies but not allow ourselves to be manipulated into a systemized code of “how one should move”. The confines of a strict system of dance may develop splendid technique, but it may also atrophy the possibilities of a truly free spirit. The body then has become indoctrinated and without thought, takes up positions in a prescribed manner. The movement then, through long training, imposes itself upon the body when instinctive reflective movement seems no longer possible for the dancer. The inspired teacher shows the pupil what she knows, encouraging them in turn to discover further things for themselves, while remaining still a part of the cosmic world.

Anna Sokolow, writing disparagingly of the need her dancers appeared to have to make all their compositions neat, said:  “No, it is better to have a disordered life, but to have LIFE!”  Another foremost dancer, Ruth St Denis expressed her feelings in similar style about what she saw in an increasingly demanding, overcrowded world: “A world where there is no time to know, and no space to move.”

This maxim has in turn affected the modern and post-modern dance movement today. The many romantic themes the early moderns chose, tended to be poetic images inspired by nature, such as water lilies, the sea, sunset, dawn, storm tossed, etc. These themes are today frequently replaced by subjects of lurid human relationships: of sexuality, loneliness or death. From beautiful limpid movement accompanied by suitable melodic music, we now have stark, often frenzied, greatly energized body movement. Technique now requires a stronger, bolder approach. Earthbound fearless bodies now hurtle into the air, but for an instant only, before reclaiming the ground again.

Today’s dancer is not graceful as were the moderns, but he/she is exciting! Modern Dance costuming has progressed from diaphanous spray painted garments and sometimes also costumes designed by celebrated artists in Europe, to a required poverty-stricken look in the West, where we were lucky if we got more than a shabby pair of jeans or faded top. The naked body has become more naked than before (although I must confess there were many dancers in Germany and Austria in the ‘20s and ‘30s who posed nude for celebrated artists of the day.)

BUT if dance is about “life experience”, the present-day dance must be seen as a reflection of that, and accepted as a vital living expression of our time!

Neither Duncan nor Bodenwieser would recognise the contemporary dance of today, yet the best of it is nonetheless deeply and fundamentally the fruit of their prophecy and their ideal. I feel no need to justify the importance of dance in my own life. It has fortified and upheld me in times of trouble; it has brought me great joy as a performer, and has been a shared experience among people of many cultures. Where language has been a barrier, the dance took over and communicating through the body made speech unnecessary, then trust and friendship formed.

During a research tour among tribal people in Africa, China and the Philippines, I decided my hypothesis to be correct: that all dance religiously inspired shows man’s conscious dependence upon a greater power. That power comes from within. And as a Parthenon shot, I feel that in its present form too many teachers remain obsessed by an analytical approach alone. Their dances are too often created from the mind and not the heart. The reality of the dance should be the truth of the Inner Life, for the dancer’s world is the heart of the person.

Return to Contents page of DANZ QUARTERLY N0 2 December 2005