Looks,
Moves and Connection: Part II
By Laureano Ralon Facchina*
Most people would agree by now
that social dancing is about interpreting the music and attending
to your partner, whether as leader or follower. Let us call
these basic prerequisites the “content” or “essence”of
a partner dance; they belong to the normative realm of the
ideal, the desired. In reality, however, things get a little
more complicated and messy, as all content must be framed
by some type form or structure and total freedom is not always
a possibility. There can be no creativity without rules.
As with language, it is through
various structural forms that the essence of a dance can be
revealed and messages between two dancers can be exchanged.
In a partner dance such as Salsa, these forms are the moves
we perform; they provide the basic structure of our dance,
along with our footwork. Now, how well we perform our moves
has a lot to do with how well connected we are with our partner.
I heard Graeme Oxendale once say that “good connection
is invisible whereas bad connection is very visible.”
The comment makes a lot of sense to me: poor connection usually
results in poorly executed moves and physical – as well
as mental – “distancing” from our partner
(“I'm dancing with you but I'm really elsewhere, thinking
about my moves and what I'll do next to keep you entertained”).
So, connection is indeed the basic foundation upon which our
formal structures – the moves, the steps – are
to be erected and by which the content or essence of the dance
can be articulated.
In philosophy, we say that when
a new instrument or technology (a means to an end) is introduced
in a given environment, there's a moment of ambiguity, hesitation,
and doubt, whereby the instrument can simultaneous be read
(as object) and read through (as extended sense). On the one
hand, the instrument as object is other than me and that to
which I must relate; on the other, it extends or amplifies
my capacities such that it is partially 'embodied'. First
or early uses of instruments must be learned. Before being
embodied or apprehended – that is, before they become
“second nature” – they must be mastered
and often that task is difficult. Now, in salsa, the moves
and steps we make are the instruments or building blocks that
define the dance by articulating its content and revealing
its essence in all its possibilities; they are not the content
or essence of the dance. Thus, part of the problem with the
habit of learning new moves on a constant basis is that we
get too hung up on them and, as a result, fail to see 'through'
them. Much like good connection, moves should be invisible,
they should be a means to an end.
But in reality moves can
be addictive. A lot of us get too hung up on moves and even
to the point of thinking of them as a substitute for everything
else. I myself am guilty of this: I know so many moves now
that my dance has become promiscuous. Style is about consistency
and homogeneity. But my moves are so prominent that I have
come to mistake them with the dance itself. Sometimes, I'm
so hung up on my moves that it's almost as though my partner
ceased to be the center of attention (part of the essence
of the dance) and to become instead the instrument of my dance
– the vehicle through which my moves can actualize.
This should come as no surprise in an age where the emphasis
seems to be on processes and where everything seems to be
mediated and framed via technology and instrumentation. But
even though technology and instrumentation – i.e., our
moves, our steps – incline and suggest certain habits
and orientations, they do not totally determine. I believe
we can correct these bad habits if we understand what social
dancing is really all about – and that takes time and
maturity. Advanced dancers can grasp the essence of a dance
precisely because they can see through their moves.
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