How to Watch Dance 2: Read Your Program Notes
Using your clues
I am a big fan of program notes, and this seems to be an unpopular opinion in the dance world.
Once, at a choreography festival, I overheard one of the choreographers talking with someone about her piece. She had created it with a clear theme; it was intentional and conceptually interesting. The information helped me appreciate her piece more deeply when I later saw it performed. But did she include program notes explaining any of these concepts? Would I have seen those ideas in the work if I hadn’t overheard the conversation by happenstance? No, and no.
It drove me crazy. If you are engaging with a particular concept in your work, if it means something so specific to you, why would you not share at least a little bit of that with your audience?
The resistance to this probably goes back to my previous essay on modern dance — the idea that the audience must make their own meaning out of something that has no inherent order. An idea that, as you can see from that essay, I fundamentally disagree with.
I hate to break it to my fellow choreographers, but communicating with specificity is not dance’s particular strength; if your piece is particularly conceptual or specific, you might need to give the audience a hand up. A one-sentence program note will not ruin the possibility for the audience to discover something. It might actually help.
But I digress. The point I want to make for you, the viewer of dance, is that if you are given program notes, read them. You’ve bought your tickets to a dance performance — you’ve done your research on the genre — the next step is to be in your seat with ten minutes to spare, so that you can read the program and orient yourself to the piece.
Program notes are, quite simply, the choreographer’s communication of what they want the audience to know before they watch. How the choreographer chooses to use that space, what they tell you or don’t tell you, is an artistic choice — pay attention to it. How are they crafting your first impression of the piece before the curtain even opens?
Because some choreographers seem religiously opposed to giving information to the audience, you may have to become a bit of a detective. Here are a few suggestions about what to look for.
1. The title
What information about the piece is held in the title? Does it tell you anything about the piece’s content, structure, mood? Does it make you curious about something, or leave you with questions? What other associations do you have with the word or phrase that they chose, and how could those associations relate to the piece?
Here are a few examples of actual dance works:
Theme and Variations by George Balanchine: This tells you that the structure of the piece will be a theme followed by variations on that theme (probably following a musical structure). The choice to name the piece this also indicates that the movement is the focus, and there is likely no storyline or deeper meaning.
Dances at a Gathering by Jerome Robbins: This indicates a work that is once again focused on the dancing itself, and yet here there is also a thematic element because of the suggestion of social interaction. This title prepares me to watch carefully for relationships between the dancers. It also suggests a fairly happy mood.
After the Rain by Christopher Wheeldon: I find this title emotionally evocative. There isn’t one right interpretation, but to me it suggests an image of the world’s stillness and peace right after a rainstorm stops, perhaps indicating a sense of newness and rebirth. It prepares me to see something that is emotionally reflective and perhaps has something to do with nature.
This is certainly not an exact science; just pay attention to the mood the title evokes in you. What is it setting you up to experience? What expectations does it create?
2. The story
If the piece has a story (which is especially typical of classical ballets), it can be really helpful to know the plot points beforehand. Programs for classical ballets usually include a plot summary, and while this does mean having the ending spoiled, I’ve found that this tends to help rather than hinder my enjoyment of the performance.
3. The details
Even if the choreographer has not written a program note, there are always certain details that can help orient you to what you’re about to see. How many dancers are listed? Are there other collaborators or types of media listed (visuals, costumes, projections, composer, etc.)? Do you know the piece of music, or can you tell what genre/style it is?
4. The note
There are as many different ways of writing a program note as there are choreographers — it could be a plot summary, a reflection on a theme, a quote; it could be more or less abstract. You don’t need to consciously remember everything they say, but see if it gives you an idea of a theme or motif, something to look for in the piece to help you enter a deeper experience.
To give an example of this, I’m going to break down the program note from my undergraduate thesis project. Names are left out for obvious reasons but you can get the idea. The piece was a modern-dance adaptation of the short story The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman.
Title: Within
This title is abstract and thematic in nature. I chose to go this direction because the piece was in some ways an abstraction of the story it was based on, and because I provide more of a plot summary in the note section below.
The title reflects a sense of confinement, which is reflected in the piece in two ways: the outward physical confinement of the woman in her isolation, and the sensation of being trapped within oneself that mental illness creates.
I wouldn’t expect someone to necessarily put words to those ideas from the title alone, but the hope is that it would suggest themes to them, and those themes would then be made clear as they watch.
Choreographer: Grace Matson
Self-explanatory, I think. It can be interesting to note if there is more than one choreographer for a work. And do watch out for times when there will be a note along the lines of “in collaboration with the dancers,” which indicates that the dancers had a heavily present artistic voice in the choreographic decisions that were made.
Dancers: [dancer 1], [dancer 2], [dancer 3], [dancer 4], [dancer 5]
There are five dancers in the piece; so it is a group work, but not a large group.
Projection Design: [name]
Voiceover and Sound Editing: [name]
These two credits indicate a multi-media effect. There will be a scenic element done through projection, and there will be a voiceover. The voiceover in particular is an unusual touch for dance. This gives a clue that there is a verbal or theatrical element to the performance you are about to see.
Music: “Prelude no.13 in F sharp minor” by Dmitri Shostakovich; “Melancholia III” by William Basinski; “Walkabout” by Chelsea McGough; “Our House Is on Fire” by Laura Masotto
Often if there are multiple pieces of music listed, that indicates sections, which was true in this case; each of these four songs was a distinct section of the piece with its own mood.
Note:
This piece is an adaptation of the 19th-century short story The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Gilman’s protagonist is a woman suffering from unspecified mental illness at a time when mental illness, especially for women, was not acknowledged or understood. She is isolated as a form of ‘treatment’, and as her mind deteriorates, she becomes fixated on the wallpaper in her bedroom and a mysterious figure she sees trapped behind it.
My goal with this note was to offer a summary for those unfamiliar with the short story, while not giving away too much. I introduce the main character and give a one-sentence plot summary (without giving away the ending) to help guide the audience through the piece.
I also mention mental illness, which is a theme that provides the entry point and anchor to then help the audience effectively understand what they’re watching. Notice that I don’t have to say much about mental illness; the piece will do that. All I have to do is introduce it as an idea I’m wrestling with in the work, placing it in the audience’s minds as the lens through which they will watch.
I hope this gives you an idea of what to look for in your program, and how much information can be hiding between the lines if you look closely.
Writing a good program note is challenging. There is a fine line between giving the audience too much information and not giving them enough.
It is true that there should be space for the audience’s own experience, the opportunity left for discovery. But program notes allow the choreographer to share a little piece of their own thought process, thus creating an environment of more effective communication. Which, within the arts, is what I’m all about.