During the last century the role of the dancer has been changing in relation to both their input in the creative process, as well as their skills. This changes occurred simultaneously with the changes in choreographers' vision on the creative process. In Dancing Dutch Coos Versteeg outlines types of choreographers and dancers in relation to their role in dance making. Beside un-led collectives, there are three types of choreographers: the autocratic choreographer who does not take dancers' individuality as a point of departure, but rather has them perform his movements; the facilitating director who is the leader providing a framework within which the dancers can exercise their personal qualities; the stimulator allows a personal interpretation by a dancer (96).
As for the dancer types, a dance historian Eva van Schaik also distinguishes four categories: "First, dancers who place themselves unreservedly at the service of the choreographer. Second, dancers who wish to preserve the freedom to choose their own choreographers. Third, undertake choreography themselves, drawing on the resources of their own bodies. Fourth, dancers who function in a collective on a basis of improvisation" (Versteeg 105).
In the romantic ballet the dancers ranks were highly hierarchical. Depending on their skill and technique, a dancer would rise from the humble corps the ballet to the soloist, who would dance in the climax part of the ballet, not obscured or distracted by other dancers. No matter his highest position within the company however, a soloist would have absolutely no say or influence on the choreography or movement style. It was the dancer who had to fit choreographers needs with their technique and looks, and not the choreographer who would adjust to dancers' skills.
This model, although slightly changed, is still prevalent in most ballet companies around the world. The difference now is that the choreographers are more aware of unique qualities of their dancers and of the fact that they are "not able to avoid the individuality of the dancers, because they are working with living material" (Veersteeg 97). This is the model of the autocratic / authoritarian director, of which Hans van Manen is an example. Although he occasionally makes provisions creating ballets suited for specific dancers' skills - for example older dancers of NDT III, he nonetheless wants to have "his work" done in a certain way (my italics): "I want my work to be clear and logical [...] I am constructivist thinker [...]" (Reynolds 441).
William Forsythe represents almost a contrary vision of choreographic creative process and the input of the dancers. He can be considered the stimulator, who gives an idea and lets his dancers use their own body and individuality to interpret the movement. This approach was the source of a clash between Forsythe and The Royal Ballet in Covent Garden, which dancers were not prepared to take up the task of co-choreographing the work. Forsythe says he is interested in "politics of responsibility" and the dancers' names listed as co-creators in his ballet programs prove that. Sandra Genter quotes an interview in Fifty Contemporary Choreographers: "I give the dancers the thoughts and the results of them. I don't tell anyone what to do. I just tell them how they should do it. I've only created the conditions, but the movements are made manifest by the dancers themselves" (Forsythe qtd. in Genter 112).
A more extreme version of having the dancers determine the outcome of a work, can be observed in a collective, which often unites not only dancers, but also artists from different disciplines - from computer programmes to sculptors to film makers. Vim Vandekeybus and his collective Ultima Vez represent this model of creating dance. Vandekeybus, although without professional dance training, started as the Naked Prince in Jan Fabre's The Power of Theatrical Follies. Shortly after he attended numerous dance and theatre workshops to finally form Ultima Vez with a group of artists in Madrit. He is not interested in technical qualities of the performers but rather their personality and how they can contribute to the piece, they are "full partners in the creation process" [1]. In an interview with Luk van den Dries for his Bodycheck... Vandekeybus says: "I personally find it interesting to work with people who do not so much excel in technique but possess a certain intuitive capacity to adapt themselves to different circumstances" (280). Further, he explains the creative process: "When we first discussed the performance, everyone had to select the elements they felt were closest to them and most distant for them. Then we talked what that meant to everyone" (284).
Merce Cunningham can be considered somewhere between an autocratic and facilitating choreographer, in that for the former he is interested in movement and movement only, and for the latter, he provides a space for the dancers to exercise their personal qualities. These personal qualities however, do not mean that dancers introduce their viewpoint, rather it is about their personal physical qualities that Cunningham is interested in working with. During 2010 Holland Festival, a former Cunningham dancer Cedric Andrieux in a one hour solo [2] written with Jerome Bel, gave an insight into the daily life of the company, from a dancer's personal point of view - often resentful. The anecdotes with backstage stories are interwoven with dance excerpts and inform of a harsh daily routine, with hours of the same boring exercises every day - the same eighteen positions for arms, legs etc, drilled beyond mental exhaustion, then followed by physically draining rehearsals that would manifest themselves in pain months afterwards. On the other hand, Andrieux admits that the prestige of being in a company with "the best dancers in the world" is rewarding. Yet, after eight years of Cunnigham agonizing experience, he is happy to return to France and dance what he enjoys, within the limits of his body and without constant pain.
Although the extent to which dancers can decide on the creative process has widened dramatically in the second half of the last century, the competitiveness of the market allows only few to act as they wish - and still under many constraints from the surrounding network of producers, directors, choreographers and subsidies. Ger Jager, the artistic director of Dansmakers Amsterdam, admits that success comes at a price:
There is a certain group of dancers that is so good technically that choreographers, who are purely engaged in the movement discipline, are all chasing after the same people. That is a group that always has work and can choose the majority of it itself. They have won for themselves the position of being in demand. These are the people who say, at a given moment, I am no longer just going to listen to the daft ideas of the choreographer, I also want to make my own contribution. (qtd.in Versteeg 106)
Works Cited
Dries, Luk van den. Bodycheck: Relocating the Body in Contemporary Performing Art. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2002.
Genter, Sandra. Fifty Contemporary Choreographers. New York: Routledge, 1999.
Reynolds, Nancy, and Malcolm McCormick. No Fixed Points: Dance in the Twentieth Century. New Haven and London: Yale UP, 2003.
Versteeg, Coos, ed. Dancing Dutch: Contemporary Dance in The Netherlands. Amsterdam: Theater Instituut Nederland, 2000.
Notes
[1] http://www.ultimavez.com/
[2] http://www.hollandfestival.nl/page.ocl?pageid=26&production=1143
In the romantic ballet the dancers ranks were highly hierarchical. Depending on their skill and technique, a dancer would rise from the humble corps the ballet to the soloist, who would dance in the climax part of the ballet, not obscured or distracted by other dancers. No matter his highest position within the company however, a soloist would have absolutely no say or influence on the choreography or movement style. It was the dancer who had to fit choreographers needs with their technique and looks, and not the choreographer who would adjust to dancers' skills.
This model, although slightly changed, is still prevalent in most ballet companies around the world. The difference now is that the choreographers are more aware of unique qualities of their dancers and of the fact that they are "not able to avoid the individuality of the dancers, because they are working with living material" (Veersteeg 97). This is the model of the autocratic / authoritarian director, of which Hans van Manen is an example. Although he occasionally makes provisions creating ballets suited for specific dancers' skills - for example older dancers of NDT III, he nonetheless wants to have "his work" done in a certain way (my italics): "I want my work to be clear and logical [...] I am constructivist thinker [...]" (Reynolds 441).
William Forsythe represents almost a contrary vision of choreographic creative process and the input of the dancers. He can be considered the stimulator, who gives an idea and lets his dancers use their own body and individuality to interpret the movement. This approach was the source of a clash between Forsythe and The Royal Ballet in Covent Garden, which dancers were not prepared to take up the task of co-choreographing the work. Forsythe says he is interested in "politics of responsibility" and the dancers' names listed as co-creators in his ballet programs prove that. Sandra Genter quotes an interview in Fifty Contemporary Choreographers: "I give the dancers the thoughts and the results of them. I don't tell anyone what to do. I just tell them how they should do it. I've only created the conditions, but the movements are made manifest by the dancers themselves" (Forsythe qtd. in Genter 112).
A more extreme version of having the dancers determine the outcome of a work, can be observed in a collective, which often unites not only dancers, but also artists from different disciplines - from computer programmes to sculptors to film makers. Vim Vandekeybus and his collective Ultima Vez represent this model of creating dance. Vandekeybus, although without professional dance training, started as the Naked Prince in Jan Fabre's The Power of Theatrical Follies. Shortly after he attended numerous dance and theatre workshops to finally form Ultima Vez with a group of artists in Madrit. He is not interested in technical qualities of the performers but rather their personality and how they can contribute to the piece, they are "full partners in the creation process" [1]. In an interview with Luk van den Dries for his Bodycheck... Vandekeybus says: "I personally find it interesting to work with people who do not so much excel in technique but possess a certain intuitive capacity to adapt themselves to different circumstances" (280). Further, he explains the creative process: "When we first discussed the performance, everyone had to select the elements they felt were closest to them and most distant for them. Then we talked what that meant to everyone" (284).
Merce Cunningham can be considered somewhere between an autocratic and facilitating choreographer, in that for the former he is interested in movement and movement only, and for the latter, he provides a space for the dancers to exercise their personal qualities. These personal qualities however, do not mean that dancers introduce their viewpoint, rather it is about their personal physical qualities that Cunningham is interested in working with. During 2010 Holland Festival, a former Cunningham dancer Cedric Andrieux in a one hour solo [2] written with Jerome Bel, gave an insight into the daily life of the company, from a dancer's personal point of view - often resentful. The anecdotes with backstage stories are interwoven with dance excerpts and inform of a harsh daily routine, with hours of the same boring exercises every day - the same eighteen positions for arms, legs etc, drilled beyond mental exhaustion, then followed by physically draining rehearsals that would manifest themselves in pain months afterwards. On the other hand, Andrieux admits that the prestige of being in a company with "the best dancers in the world" is rewarding. Yet, after eight years of Cunnigham agonizing experience, he is happy to return to France and dance what he enjoys, within the limits of his body and without constant pain.
Although the extent to which dancers can decide on the creative process has widened dramatically in the second half of the last century, the competitiveness of the market allows only few to act as they wish - and still under many constraints from the surrounding network of producers, directors, choreographers and subsidies. Ger Jager, the artistic director of Dansmakers Amsterdam, admits that success comes at a price:
There is a certain group of dancers that is so good technically that choreographers, who are purely engaged in the movement discipline, are all chasing after the same people. That is a group that always has work and can choose the majority of it itself. They have won for themselves the position of being in demand. These are the people who say, at a given moment, I am no longer just going to listen to the daft ideas of the choreographer, I also want to make my own contribution. (qtd.in Versteeg 106)
Works Cited
Dries, Luk van den. Bodycheck: Relocating the Body in Contemporary Performing Art. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2002.
Genter, Sandra. Fifty Contemporary Choreographers. New York: Routledge, 1999.
Reynolds, Nancy, and Malcolm McCormick. No Fixed Points: Dance in the Twentieth Century. New Haven and London: Yale UP, 2003.
Versteeg, Coos, ed. Dancing Dutch: Contemporary Dance in The Netherlands. Amsterdam: Theater Instituut Nederland, 2000.
Notes
[1] http://www.ultimavez.com/
[2] http://www.hollandfestival.nl/page.ocl?pageid=26&production=1143