I really love dance in all its forms. I'll read or watch pretty much anything I can find about dance, and often I find it relates to other material I'm developing.
We recently watched a three-part miniseries on Ovation called "Dance School: Juilliard," which was basically a non-fiction version of "Center Stage." It was a very talky program and not really made for anyone but true dance fans, but I'm glad to have seen it. Among the many thought-provoking comments made by the dancers, teachers, and choreographers interviewed for the show were the following:
"Dance happens Everywhere." - William Forsythe, choreographer. No comment needed on this.
[I used to be attracted to sports, but dance has] "a much broader range of ... the definition of success." - a Juilliard senior.
I wrote down that second comment because it rang one of my bells. I'm not proficient in any style of dance other than ballroom, but even in my field, there are so many ways to be a good dancer.
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Among the fifteen students interviewed for the program (there were sixteen in the senior class, but one declined to be interviewed), there was a common tendency to be extremely romantic in their view of dance - as something that they were "meant to do," that gives their life meaning, that they can't live without - while at the same time they are extremely pragmatic about the difficulty of the dance life.
Every one of the seniors appeared well aware that their window of opportunity to join a dance company or otherwise become well-known and fully-employed in the industry would basically close within a year of their graduation - because by then, another class of top-notch dancers would be on the market. Not only that, the anticipated lifespan of their full employment as dancers was fully expected to expire in about ten years.
I would love to see a really in-depth look at professional dancing as a part of professional athletics. There's not so much difference between theatrical dancers and basketball players, after all; most who make it as professionals do so by working on their athletic skills to the exclusion of almost everything else. The scholar-athlete is an extremely rare creature, and the scholar-athlete with a balanced personal life is nearly mythical.
And yet, the differences are many. The dancer, once his or her performance career is over, is not very likely to have been paid one million dollars even over ten years, while the professional ball player may be paid millions every season. The dancer may have only ten possible places of employment in the entire world, while the ball player has dozens of potential teams just in the U.S.
On the flip side, a dancer is not likely to suffer a catastrophic injury, or to get into an armed dispute outside a nightclub and end up in prison. The dancer also has the very real and achievable post-performance career path of teaching open to him or her. An ex-ballplayer typically can't start up his own baseball or basketball school (although maybe some of them should). Many dancers are also temperamentally well-suited to professions such as yoga or Pilates teaching, physical therapy or massage, which is not the post-professional path expected for the typical ex-ballplayer.
The world is a little less hard on ballroom dancers, at least now that the old Lawrence Welk Show stereotypes have faded. It's not impossible to take up ballroom dancing in mid-life and become a professional! That can't happen for ballet or jazz or tap or even hip-hop dancers; if you're not there by the time you're out of college (if you even go to college), your body simply won't have what it takes. And while the composition of theatrical dance companies is definitely changing, most companies and most choreography are still built on the bodies of the young.
For those of us who have taken other paths, I guess the idea to take away is to be both romantic and pragmatic about our choices. There's nothing wrong with following your dream, and loving every minute of it - as long as you're prepared for the day when, inevitably, it ends.