Dance Is No Longer an Ephemeral Art Form
In "The Art of Making Dances" (published in 1959), Doris Humphrey identified the unique artistic challenges faced by choreographers:
The one inescapable condition surrounding the choreographer in his chosen art is the hard realism of "now." All other arts can wait for the verdict of history if they are rebuffed by the contemporary world--the choreographer not so. To keep faith with himself, he cannot pander to popular taste; he must choose his subject and the means to body it forth from his total convictions about values in art and life. If his work happens to be stimulating to audiences in their current state of development, he is very lucky indeed; but if not, he must resign himself to abandoning his dream child. Not for him the consolation of hanging his creation on the wall in all its original freshness, and waiting hopefully for perhaps posthumous appreciation. There must be hundreds, possibly thousands of dances--some of which were probably masterpieces--completely lost because of this tragic ephemerality. In contrast, one only has to think of painting and music, so often savagely rejected in their day, which a grateful world finally comes to accept and admire. This painful reality of the choreographer's "now" is a powerful temptation to abandon conviction and the most extreme flights of fancy in the interest of survival and prosperity. The wonder is that there are still so many choreographers who will not compromise, and who hug their ideals to their hearts in spite of failure and adversity.
For the era in which Humphrey wrote her book, which was published posthumously one year after her death, she captured both the ephemeral nature of dance and the unavoidable constraints of having to serve audiences in the "now" and not, possibly, more endearing fans in the future.
But despite what dance writers of recent times may claim, dance is no longer an ephemeral art form that is as fleeting as the closing curtain.
In a March 2005 review of two biographies about George Balanchine in The New York Review of Books ("George Balanchine: The Ballet Maker" by Robert Gottlieb and "All in the Dances: A Brief Life of George Balanchine" by Terry Teachout), Toni Bentley incorrectly assesses, I believe, the ephemeral nature of dance and the limitations of capturing dances with video technology:
[Dancers] are...in a way the noblest and most fragile of artists, knowing as they do that their work will not only not outlive them, but will not even outlive that performance, on that evening, in that theater, in that city. At best their work exists as a memory —and we all know how reliable that is. A dancer will never even see himself, or herself, dance. (Videotape, while technically useful, is a distorted, backward, two-dimensional, miniature rendition of a dance that inevitably erases complexity from any performance. It records, at best, steps, but never depth. Even other live performance—singing and acting—can now be accurately preserved on digital disks.) While dancers' "narcissism" is also frequently noted with snide superiority, it is really generosity that dancers demonstrate with their practiced grace. The evanescent nature of the form is haunting and Balanchine, in his own generosity, gave us this ephemeral gift.
And in a dance review in this morning's New York Times, "Suzanne Farrell Ballet: With Her Own Company, a Former Dancer Reunites Elements of Her Past," Claudia La Rocco writes "posthumous reconstruction is a thorny issue...This is especially true in dance. The fragility of choreography and the lack of a definitive record to follow make for a hit-or-miss state of affairs."
The Emerging Non-Ephemeral Art Form
In the 1950s, Doris Humphrey was more or less correct: dance was ephemeral and could only take place in the now. But the notion that dance in the Twenty-First Century is fragile, ephemeral and can't be captured via a two-dimensional medium is for the most part wrong. While I understand the historical legacy of these ideas, those writing about dance - at least Toni Bentley and Claudia La Rocco - are simply perpetuating unexamined notions that have lost much of their validity.
I encourage readers to visit the Dance Documentation site of Professor Tim Glenn of Florida State University. He provides an extensive overview of how he and his students use video to document all aspects of dance performances. This dance documentation site specifically addresses and disproves Bentley's contention I quoted above:
Videotape, while technically useful, is a distorted, backward, two-dimensional, miniature rendition of a dance that inevitably erases complexity from any performance. It records, at best, steps, but never depth. Even other live performance—singing and acting—can now be accurately preserved on digital disks.
Glenn has been using these video documentation techniques for the "Paul Taylor Repertory Preservation Project" and for works from other choreographers.
You can also read the latest publication from Washington, DC-based Dance Heritage Coalition (DHC). "Documenting Dance: A Practical Guide" (PDF format), written by Libby Smigel, is available as a free download from the DHC website. I wrote two posts about this publication - Part I and Part II.
Dance is more difficult to document, preserve and recreate than other art forms. And traditional methods of transmission - from dancer to dancer and choreographer to dance - will remain invaluable. But at the same time, new approaches have been developed and will continue to be developed that make it easier and less expensive than before to preserve every element and nuance of a dance performance.
Overall, I believe that the widely-held notion that dance is ephemeral is a major roadblock on the path to freeing dance from the proscenium stage. While live performances are wonderful and in some ways unique, they also can be replicated - with important changes and accommodations for each medium. But if most people in the dance community never question whether dance has to be a fleeting experience, there will be very little incentive to explore and invest in new approaches to preserving these performances for future generations.
Posted by Doug Fox on June 11, 2007 8:11 AM
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Some thoughts:
This is where dance becomes, to my mind, a purely visual art. The luscious excerpt from "Her" and the bouyant ballet solo (at the FSU site's Dance Documentation/Aesthetic Issues page) are certainly treats for the eyes. These are visually and sonically vibrant recordings of performances, I will agree. However, I also experience the witnessing of dance in an energetic and visceral way that might not be totally reproduceable with a video recording. Not saying that will never be possible. Just saying it doesn't seem that way at the moment, at least to me. The point of dance is the living body and everything that entails. That's what makes it--and dancers, who put their all on the line--so special and perhaps so threatening to certain mindsets. My feeling is, you gotta be there--at least for the full effect. However, videos such as the ones on the FSU site will certainly make it possible for future scholars and artists and others to get a vivid sense of what past performances looked like. It might come down to one's definition of what dance is. Is it the living body in motion right in front of your living eyes? Or is it Memorex? The "Memorex" is good to have for practical and historical documentation of dance--hooray for that!--but I think right now I consider dance itself to be the living art and the sweaty, dangerous beings who perform it.