Violence in Modern Dance

The modern dance started to develop late in the 19th century in Europe and the USA, gaining its terminology and mainstream popularity in the 20th century. Well into the 19th century, the modern dance campaign started as a protest against ballet's structure and formality. Dancers preferred to move around space effortlessly and naturally, not just vertically high as typical with ballet. They needed to get away from toe shoes and feel the floor with their bare feet. They needed to involve the entire body while dancing. They needed to include the facial gestures that reflect the feelings of their dance. More notably, they required their dance to be creative and not only an intellectual and physical endeavor.

With a dance style that preserves the technique of ballet, extending and liberating it to accommodate the exciting experience of full-body participation and artistic expression all gave birth to Modern Dance. It may look like balletic, jazz, lyrical, or completely different–Modern Dance establishes an atmosphere for mood exploration. The Lion King on Broadway is an example of modern dance.

The Creative Movement dance created for children between 4-6-year-old is an illustration of Modern Dance, relying not just on established techniques but mostly on the creative intuitions and natural movements that develop while expressing dance's emotions and feelings.

Modern Dance is essentially a product of gestures that suit the emotions and intent of a dancer. Every step is perfect, as provided. You learn to perform it well and meaningfully.

Just as some people worry that movies and television, pop music have become too violent, then it might not take long before the audience questions the state of Modern Dance and if it is becoming violent as well. There is little cause for alarm anyways. While no lead animator or theater artist can match the gruesome details that the visual effects team of a film studio may dream of, the degree of violence in dance is likely to be quite small. Nonetheless, one can still be worried about choreographic abuse, especially now when a growing interest in both social-protest and expressionism art has driven dancers to utilize conditions of emotional turmoil and express their opinions on matters with unprecedented ferocity.

There is barely someone in the arts industry with a harder job compared to a choreographer of modern dance. If a writer is unable to work out what to write next, they can turn off the computer and rest the brain. A choreographer, on the other hand, does not operate with a computer, but with, perhaps, 10 or 15 real dancers who can stand and glare at her even if she sees herself in a state of confusion — and maybe, if she feels unaffected— until the practice begins again, which should quickly restart. (Joan Acocella 2019)

Companies in modern dance are little, powerful, and private. When Martha Graham thought her dancers are not getting a passage the right way, she can be frustrated enough to rip her phone off the wall or bang it on the ground. If she wasn't able to think about what next to do, she could leave the studio and shut herself in her changing room. Her workers, through the door or windows, will plead with her. The dancers were paid next to nothing in the early years of the company, so that was fine by them not to go through the massive stress in getting it right when it matters most. They would never have provided a bad service to Graham with money feelings, according to one leader of the inexperienced group.

If that sounds wild, there were explanations for it all the same. Modern dance agencies are often one person's invention. Martha Graham is the company. She isn't just the chief choreographer — in most instances, she is also the primary soloist. However, this isn't the case with ballet, where musical directors usually have passed their dance years. Everything emerges from the creator: the vision, training, the distinctive style, movement, and technique of the company.

For this reason, the belief for a long time in modern dance was that no one could ever take the place of the manager. The structure was quite unshakable in the earliest days — Doris Humphrey, Loie Fuller, Ruth St. Denis, Charles Weidman, Isadora Duncan, and others in the next generation. Usually, when the founder gets weary, they only returned home, and the dancers move on to other businesses or do something else with their lives. It was painful, but in those times, people were more dutiful, so dance was more fun. They were expecting that it would be short-lived. Even now, you still learn about how “impersonal” dance is — a summer's butterfly, an hour's flower. If I'm not wrong, that expressionistic note is followed sometimes by some condescension: when a bunch of coeds and gay from Bennington have to quit and acquire real jobs, tant pis! (Joan Acocella 2019)

It should not seem to arise in a vacuum if violence is to possess any real issue in dance. It does, too often. '' Return to Maria La Baja,'' Pilobolus's work, which the Feld Ballet also included in its repertoire, teaches a strange story of the tyranny of an older woman over a younger one. The ballet refers to a morality tale with its costumes and broader-than-life movements. Sadly, it is mysterious, and, because of that, the effects of the shock help gather much attention. Occasionally, what is viewed as a spontaneous emotional reaction can unintentionally seem to be just a trick. (Jack Anderson 1985). Anna Sokolow produced tumultuous works back in the 1960s in which dancers would advance downstage and stare at the crowd accusingly. One might feel frozen to the bone the first time of such experience. But when one grows acquainted with the style of Miss Sokolow, it became more and more possible to say, without a shiver or gulp,'' Ah, here comes the stare again.'' The passion for justice and peace of Miss Sokolow stayed as strong and noble as ever. But one of her favorite choreographic outcry styles had lost some of her upsetting power.