Choreography and Communication

Choreography is an important part of most of the types of dancing I do. It matters some in couples dancing (where figures can have a fairly precise path that must be followed if they're going to look and feel good), and it matters significantly in set dancing. In fact, one could easily argue that choreography is the whole POINT of set dancing --while you could just move directly to where the caller next wants you, that strips the entertainment of what makes it great. The point isn't to mill around on a dance floor, the point is to create patterns, follow paths, flow gracefully thoughout your set.

(Some of the prettiest patterns I've seen in set dancing result in very little net movement when all is said and done --Relay the Ducey, for all its winds and turns, is the same net change as "circulate twice".)

That being said, being good at choreography does not necessarily make you good at dancing, and vice versa. I'm living proof of that latter rule --I consider myself to be a fairly competent dancer (and routinely receive outside confirmation of that fact) but if we're being perfectly honest, I'm pretty lousy at a lot of choreography --especially squares. While I've technically learned all of A1 and A2, (and at least a dozen calls from C1!) were I quizzed on the actual definitions, I'd be at a complete loss. Yet I'm able to keep up on an A2 dance floor with relative ease, and have even been known to participate in dances at the C1 level --no gemini, no other square to match, just me dancing, and well enough to keep the square from breaking down.

So where's the trick? It's a lot of little things, I think. Practise, and lots of experience at set dancing is a big one. I can learn new kinds of set dances easier, because I understand the rules and can often recognize the gist of a figure based on similar things I've done. Being flexible is huge, especially about things like what direction you're supposed to be facing (quick spin!) and who's hands you're supposed to be grabbing. There are hints to be picked up from a good or familiar caller, what direction the flow of the dance is moving, whether they have a tendency to re-use certain sequences, that sort of thing. For squares, being aware of your opposite and being able to align yourself with them, quickly and effectively. (unless something interesting happens, you and they should always be symmetric, with respect to a 180degree rotation).

Most importantly, for any dance, the trick is just being able to communicate, and having a set or partner who you trust to lead you true. Be it words, hands, pushes, pulls, points... people will give you signals of where you need to be, and learning how to follow those signals, respond quickly and efficiently, will boost your ability to dance in a noticeable way. There are few things as frustrating to me as a dancer who will not listen when they are told what they need to do, and insist on dithering in the middle of a set, or doing things their own (wrong!) way despite the admonitions of the rest of the group. We all mess up sometimes, but that's why we dance together --so different people can help each other through the calls we find difficult.

Interestingly, the types of communication that help a set guide its individuals to the correct spot are also the types of communication that guide a follow through a convoluted couples dance. Because here's the thing --it's all well and good if the leader knows a complicated bit of choreography, but if they can't communicate what's going on to their follow, then the dance will fall to pieces (just like if a square of seven perfect choreographists have no ability to steer through their new student eighth.) I've had the misfortune to meet leaders who think of themselves as very good (because they know the choreography) but are actually absolutely terrible to dance with. I assure you, I am an excellent follower (and so modest), so it shocked me to find myself unable to keep up with someone who had looked so very good just a few dances before.

Here's the point of this (slightly rambly) entry: Learn the choreography. Learn the calls. Learn the figures. Practise them, and get good at them, and break them down so you can do them cold. But when it comes right down to dancing them, make sure you're doing more for the dance than just following a precise set of movements --because unless you're dancing alone, there's a lot more than choreography to being good at dancing.

Choreographing the Vericon Masquerade

Many science-fiction conventions have an event called the "Masquerade". They're basically huge costume contests, where everyone from bare novices to master-class costumers get on stage and show off the pretties that they've been working on for the last year (or more!).

Vericon¹, however, skips all the judging nonsense and so their masquerade is closer to the traditional roots of the word, a ball in which attendants are encouraged (though not required) to show up in costume or cosplay. This leads to wonderful and silly situations as four decades --or more!-- of pop-culture collide.

(As an aside, have you ever wondered how EvilSpock would react to a cute girl grinding up against him to the dulcet strains of "She Blinded Me With Science"? It's pretty entertaining, let me tell you! I only wish I had my camera out to catch his perfectly quirked eyebrow as he declared: "Science.")

So because it's a ball, it is expected that there will be dancing. And because Vericon is staffed, run, and attended by complete geeks...well...let's just say that the music can be considered eclectic at best, and the dances performed to match.

Oh sure, there's definitely a lot of happy flailing and bouncing around. Just because the songs are geekier than your average club fare doesn't mean you have to change the dancing around any --just find a strong beat and rock out. But between the flailing, maybe every third or fourth song, some spectacular geek anthem comes on, and the dance floor transfers from an incohesive throng to an impromptu performance space. Different people step up, as costumes or attitudes necessitate, and instead of just dancing, they *perform*.

One of the clearest examples is the annual production of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia". The room finds itself a circle, leaving plenty of space for Johnny and his foe to face off, miming fiddles as though their life depended on it. And at the point of the song where the demons of hell get to jump in and join their master...hoo boy, you get quite the cast of characters as anyone even *slightly* evil takes their cue.

Other songs get the star treatment too. "Walk Through the Fire" varies by year, but when it's good, it's good, with people of all costume stepping up to fill the roles of the various scoobies et al. (I got to be Spike this year!) And usually late in the evening, the DJs cue up "The Homecoming Queen's Got a Gun", which lends itself to a spectacular amount of running around screaming...at least until you get shot (at which point you get to throw yourself to the ground dramatically, which is arguably even more fun.)

The impromptu choreography is wonderful, and best of all, it lends itself to sharing, as ideas ripple across the dance floor. One person comes up with something clever, which is quickly stolen by another, or another. Some songs will lead to multiple performances, scattered across the floor --what's "Skullcrusher Mountain" with only one evil scientist after all?

My crowning victory this year was for another JoCo song. When "Re: Your Brains" came on, it took me only a few lines to realize that the logical way to "dance" was with arms outstretched, moaning the lyrics and shuffling around like a true zombie. The idea caught on like wildfire, and by the second stanza, the floor was almost entirely populated by zombies --one lone human ran around and around, giving us something to grab for.

It was wonderfully reaffirming, being in this mass of groaning humans. Sure, it was ridiculous, and in all honesty, we probably looked thoroughly uncool. But we're geeks. Most of the people in that room would probably pick fun over cool any day of the week. And being in a room of creative, kinesthetic, unashamedly silly people leads to some excellent -albeit uncool- geek choreography.

Which is probably why we could shuffle like pros during "Re: Your Brains", but not a zombie among us knew more than the fewest poses for the next undead anthem played: "Thriller". It's a great song and all, but for us?

We'd rather write our own choreographies.

1: Vericon is Harvard University's annual science-fiction convention. It seems to range from maybe two to five hundred attendees (yes, I totally guessed that number), and is currently held every year in March. I do recommend it! If nothing else, they have a fantastic dance.