Expectations Exceeded

It became evident to me recently that expectations seem to be my hot topic. Perhaps this is because more often than not events far exceed my expectation, which I find to be both ironic and gratifying. There is nothing wrong with having expectations, as long as there is always flexibility in the outcome. I tend to grow comfortable with change quickly and I find that a change in plans and expectations keeps things new and exciting. Its how I exercise spontaneity. Since I am a planner, I must have an expectation. I also must exceed that expectation so that I won’t get bored or become boring.

One incidence of having an expectation exceeded was in my discovery of my choreographic passion. All my life I’ve thought that I was a born performer and that nothing would fulfill me save living out my one passion – performing great works of art in front of sold out theatres. Unfortunately this expectation was greatly at odds with some of my realities. First of all, I’m not the worlds greatest technician. I’m not going to berate myself or say I’m a horrible dancer, because that’s just obnoxious. And I don’t believe it to be true. I can hold my own in a class, but I don’t stand out technically. I am one among the masses, if you will. This is perfectly all right since I’ve always preferred the masses to the elite few anyway.

Another discouraging reality is that there simply are not that many professional dance companies to throw myself at ‘round these parts. Even if I were an outstanding technician, who knows if there would even be a need for my incredible technique.
Finally, the reality of a long unhealed injury would have kept me from obtaining what I thought was my ultimate dream.

But in truth, something else will keep me from it, something much more powerful and determining. That something is that I don’t want it. Turns out, that isn’t actually my dream. I have a different dream, something I believe pairs what I love with what I am good at, which I suppose is something we are all striving to find. I count myself lucky that I have vision. And it is a vision I plan to achieve, realistically.

I started to realize that my dream was not what it seemed to be when I began choreographing my first full length dance. When I say full length, I don’t mean to imply it was a certain length. Rather I imply that all the elements were in place: costumes, lighting, hair, makeup, the perfect piece of music, collaboration, willing dancers, and a mind eager to create. This is what hard work feels like. This is what accomplishment renders. A dance, while not perfect, that far exceeded my expectations.
When casting for the spring dance concert came around, I knew I was far more excited to choreograph than to perform. I had yet to make the connection, but I did know that I was performing simply because this was my last dance concert at the University and I’d regret it if I didn’t. In hindsight, I probably should have saved my foot and simply choreographed. But at the time I still thought I was a born performer. That aside, casting yielded nine dancers who also paled my expectations in comparison. Thus began the process of creativity.

George Balanchine once said, “"God creates, I do not create.
 I assemble and I steal everywhere to do it –
from what I see, from what the dancers can do,
 from what others do..." This approach has worked wonders in giving me permission to choreograph whatever I want. Its okay to use something you saw, because really, that is the primary way we are inspired. I set out to find my dance, because I knew it was already there. Anything was possible, I simply needed to organize the right things into an order. But I digress. My dream…

Realization and understanding began to materialize when I finally watched my finished work from backstage, for the first time in front of an audience. My dancers were truly wonderful. At the risk of sounding obnoxiously corny, they were larger than life. And the excitement I felt – the nervousness, the spastically tapping foot and nail biting – knowing that something I had created was up in front of hundreds of people – entertaining, conveying a message, hopefully making people tap there feet – was far more fulfilling to me than performing could ever be. It was in that moment of realization (and the next several days of some hard thinking to form what I knew into words) that I knew I must choreograph. As I said before, I hope to achieve the thing that pairs what I love and what I’m good at. Let me explain…

I have been a teacher since I was 12 years old. In some form of other, I have been instructing others for over 10 years. While it is something I feel confident and at ease with, I can’t say I love it. I don’t really want to be a teacher, at least not in the traditional sense. I certainly don’t want to teach kids how to dance. And I don’t really want to teach classes at all unless I must. Still, teaching is something I’m good at, if only because I’ve been doing it for so long.

I’ve already mentioned that I’ve always loved performing. There is something about being up on that stage that makes you feel alive. Having an audience full of expectations of their own totally focused on you is nothing short of thrilling.
Choreography, in essence, is the perfect marriage of these two skills. You must be a good teacher, since choreography doesn’t just appear on a dancer. The choreographer must adequately convey ideas and movement, without being too abstract but without losing the fragility of what is happening. One must understand performance, to get what one wants out of a dancer. Finally, a choreographer must have an appreciation for the thrill of a few stage moments in order to capture the thrill the audience also came to experience. All this, without over-rehearsing and knowing intuitively when the dancers are nearly ready to peak.

This was not what I expected to be planning or hoping for as graduated dance major. And yet, its perfect! Needless to say, the path I am currently on exceeds my early expectations beyond what I could fathom.