Watching the watcher: the performers aren't the only ones keeping to the choreography in the dance world

Performing Arts & Entertainment in Canada, Summer, 2002 by Pat Beaven

A VISIT TO THE BALLET OR TO SEE A MAJOR PERFORMANCE BY AN ESTABLISHED DANCE COMPANY IS A BIG-ticket item for sure, but dance artists increasingly showcase their work -- or works-in-progress -- at smaller, less formal events.

These may be presented in-house, in shared studio space, at dance festivals. In Vancouver there's Twelve Minutes Max; Montreal has Studio 303; in Toronto it's Dancenet, Series 8:08, and Maximum Cabaret -- there are counterparts in cities across the country. At these events, the audience may provide as much of the show and the drama as what goes on onstage. Studying those who have come to watch, one begins to unravel a fascinating pastiche of cryptic though unmistakable social and professional hierarchies, unwritten but inviolate rules, petty jealousies, and grand bids for attention.

As seating at these events is usually general admission, or first-come, first-served, the basic revelation is you are where you sit. Front-row people rule the roost; the first one or two rows are inevitably filled by dancers. These are people who want to be seen, not only by those looking stage-ward, but also by those on stage. Bear in mind that it can be equally intimidating to feel the close scrutiny of rival or role-model. A pecking order will probably be evident, and is fairly easy to decipher. Pecking orders are common throughout the entire primate world, and are determined by proximity to a group's most powerful members. In the next few rows sit friends and relatives of the performers then, behind them, everyone else.

Seating arrangements may shift after intermission to make adjustments to the "evolutionary ladder" or to correct any unfortunate juxtapositioning of rival dance artists.

Conduct at intermission and/or post-show provides further insight. People meet, greet, and network, often huddling to exchange gossip or deconstruct aspects of the performance. The element of dressing for an audience of one's peers is a given, as all are aware that one's own attire will undergo stringent dissection.

According to anthropologist Helen Fisher, apes often vie for position by performing what is known as the "bluff-over", a type of ritualized movement in which they stretch to their full height, then imperiously rush past a rival to call attention to themselves. Human variations of this activity can be readily observed in the intermission crowd. Watch for people who rush past others, appearing distracted, people who look right past those they're talking to, people who speak extra-loudly, laugh too much, or toss their heads extravagantly when they're near to those in power.

In classical India, the pursuit of dance was considered a serious affair -- not only for dancers, but for viewers of the dance as well. Centuries ago the sages framed rules for both: the qualities of a good performer were set down, and also the desirable attributes of those who come to watch. The Abhinaya Darapana describes the ideal dance audience as consisting of "men of learning, poets, elders, singers, buffoons, and those who are familiar with history and mythology". Next time you're at a dance performance, watch the watchers to see if you can identify some of these types (perhaps even decide which category you fit into). Then have fun using your new awareness to decode the audience's behaviour!