Dance Lesson, With Dolls

I worked with Orla Swift down in North Carolina. She's a reporter and critic for the News & Observer, a National Arts Journalism Program fellow and, for the purposes of this blog, an avid tango, swing and salsa dancer.

Take it away, Orla.

Lots of mainstage performers teach workshops while they're here in Durham, N.C., for the American Dance Festival. It's one of the perks for ADF's summer students. But most of those are master classes — and students are expected to have some mastery, too.

When I heard Pilobolus was offering a two-hour class for regular people — including modern dance neophytes — I couldn't resist.

Pilobolus has a whole different dance language from most of its ADF peers, with gravity-defying gymnastics and human sculptures that a non-"Pil" would need a gallon of Crazy Glue to imitate. It's a language people love; they draw capacity crowds at ADF every year.

I wanted in on their secrets — even if the open invite fell on deaf ears and I would be the only klutz in a room full of Alvin Aileys.

To demystify the class that demystifies Pilobolus, I made a photo essay showing what happened.

OK, so I was right. The group of 27 featured few non-dancers. People were already stretching when I arrived.

After intros, we started by walking around the room in random patterns, trying not to bump into each other. Then Pilobolus dancer Renιe Jaworski, our instructor, told us to meet each other's eyes and try to orbit gracefully around each other as we passed. We did this in pairs and quartets, too.

We collided a lot.

Partnering exercises came next. Here, in "base and perch," one person got in any position and the other made her way over him, with the only rule being to avoid putting our full weight on unsupported body parts and always maintain contact. We switched roles back and forth across the room.

Here, I rolled like a log over my partner.

In this one, we had to press against each other as we lowered to the
floor and then — grrrroan — up again. No hands, and no talking. This
was hard. It's easier if you keep your whole back in contact, not just your shoulders. And each person has to exert equal pressure, no matter how large or small her partner is. We traveled like crabs in this position.

I never did master being in front for this one. The front person has to lean forward without bending at the waist. The back person is a counterweight, hooking her arms under the other person's armpits and over his shoulders and eventually hanging completely off the ground. Then the back person, maintaining the same relative position and connection, leans back until the front person is off the ground. We had to travel, too, just like Pilobolus' famous compound-creatures. My partner looked to be in her 60s, but she carried me with apparent ease.

This photo implies that you can use wires and twist-ties. You can't.

Another counterweight exercise.

I survived the class, though my leg and back muscles are still mad at me. But I'm glad I did it. And since the Conn.-based Pilobolus is your neighbor, chances are that they'll have similar workshops in Mass. soon, so you can try it, too (none yet, but keep an eye out here.

You may be a bit worse for the wear afterward. But it's worth it.

*No dolls were harmed in the making of this photo essay. These are all shelter dolls, with no prior dance training (but an inexplicable excess of tutus). Any smeared lipstick or other evidence of past indiscretions is the fault of some kid out there, not me.

Think about adopting a shelter doll.

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