Bedroom Dance Training: A Success Story
When people ask me when I began dancing, the response they so often anticipate is some infantile age at which they can imagine my mother waiting for me in the lobby of a studio, my hair tugged back in a bun, chasing around a slim figure in pointe shoes. That simply was not the case for me, nor do I believe it is a fair default for many.
The honest answer? I was twelve and watched Matt Steffanina hip-hop tutorials and tried to replicate tricks from the Just for Kix YouTube channel, all from the 4’x4’ square of pink shag carpet in my bedroom. It wasn’t until I was fourteen that I auditioned for my high school’s dance team, not long after taking up Modern dance as part of a county-wide CTE program.
Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, nearly every dancer across the world has been bumped from the studio to the confines of their homes, squinting over a laptop screen to squelch their thirst for movement. For many, it is a foreign land. A regular Gibney Online attendee myself, I’ve witnessed a rainbow of awkward interactions with household pets and plants, technical troubles, and the occasional mid-phrase roommate walk-through: factors that not only eat at the single sacred hour/hour and a half allotted to my training, but also augment the buzzing urge in my muscles to bust out through the walls in a full stream of jetés.
What keeps me from being discouraged is the feeling that I’ve been here before. When I was younger, craving dance without the necessary financial freedoms (much like now, besides being trapped in my apartment, having also been laid off from my job) I sought out every possible means of making my dreams a reality, and thankfully the internet was rich with the necessary resources. Sure, I didn’t have the in-person guidance to hone my technique at the time, but that would come later. What I did have was a strong sense of autonomy, curiosity, and spirit, that in fact accelerated my progress post-virtual priming. Had I not chosen to take my training into my own hands, I may never have caught up with my peers who had in fact been toddler ballerinas.
I urge my fellow dancers to approach the online training model with the zeal of a newcomer.
Take every class and its associated restrictions as a way to relearn the basics and come to appreciate the subtleties of your own bodies. Try a new style, take an absolute beginner class as a seasoned pro; take the class on the upper west side that you could never build up the post-work motivation to trek to. All of the walls are down; run rampant with your hunger. It will only make you a more versatile mover.
And if you are a beginner, now is your time.
I stood behind a screen at the foot of my bed, building up my confidence for years before I stepped into a studio, and just four years after my first in-person class I was on my way to earning my BFA in Choreography. There are so many more platforms out there than when I first typed “how to dance videos” in the search bar back in 2008, let alone the surge of #quarantinelife options. If I’d had as many different avenues to digital learning as there are today, I can only imagine the progress I could have made. It is never too late to join the dance community, even virtually, and I anticipate on the outset of all of this, the studio will be more welcoming than ever.
Find what works for you.
YouTube has its benefits for beginners — you can pause and rewind shamelessly, and there’s a lot of step-by-step content for building the necessary vocabulary — while Zoom provides access to full-length technique classes that you can schedule through the MindBody app (many at a discounted rate or on a sliding scale) and a community of dancers that some might never have been exposed to without flying out to the city. Many groups, such as @movement_for_hope and @freeskewl, are also hosting Instagram Live sessions daily for free, if you’d prefer a class model but aren’t sure yet if you can commit to a conference call.
Just remember to be patient with yourself.
The scariest part about taking your first dance class, especially at the professional level, is the thought that your peers might be judging your level of technique, or that you might fall behind and get in the way. Turn your webcam off and dive in without stressing about how you look. The only thing you should be worrying about now is being gentle with your body. Take risks, but don’t push yourself if your muscles are telling you to slow down. You will learn your limits and how to push them, but being respectful of each step of your journey will pay off in the end.
Now is the time to build joy and familiarity, not to attempt the trick that will end your dance career before it starts.
Moral of the story?
Whether you’re a newbie or a pro, take advantage of your solitude and resources, and try something out of your comfort zone with the same confidence you have dancing naked in your bedroom. You might just find your new post-pandemic passion, and surprise yourself at how good at it you’ve already become.
