This time I wanted to discuss something one of my good friends keeps
You know when a dancer is giving her all. She's throwing herself all over the place, she looks like she's having fun, she's got a wild look on her face. But what's better is when you can't tell how hard the dancer is working. You don't know what they're capable of when you watch them, and you feel like they might be holding something even more amazing back. It's a thing of beauty.
I came up with this phrase when I did my third piece of choreography in high school (never talked about it...should I?) and said friend tried to describe a quality I had when I performed my own choreography. I won't claim that I embody this kind of power because if I did, I feel like I'd be perfect (and I'm really so, so far from that).
No, what I mean by "soft power" embodiment is Melanie Moore's solo for SYTYCD last week, or her audition at the beginning of the season (the full version - The Meadow), or Ida Saki's Schindler's List. When I watch them dance, I can feel the energy rolling off their bodies, yet they don't appear to be straining, out of breath, or even tired by the end. They're incredibly quiet, yet their movements speak volumes. They can make a simple gesture with a soft flick of their fingers, and you feel like something should happen because of it. Undoubtedly, they show such controlled strength.
Controlled strength. Yet another phrase that probably doesn't make sense. You have to work - do all that Pilates and all those sit ups - but you have to hide the fact that it was so tough from your audience. You can't push as hard as you want to, thinking they'll appreciate how hard you work. Rather, they'll love you more if you make it look so easy that they they think they can stand up and dance with you. That's when you've succeeded as a dancer, and that's what these dancers do with their soft power.