Creating a Dance Film

In our Creative Technologies for Dancers class the first semester of freshman year, we were asked to create a dance film. We watched and analyzed several films beforehand, discussing the camera angles and how those added to, conflicted with, or created the dance. We talked about music and what we were and were not allowed to use. Then our teacher, Sofie, more or less unleashed us onto the world with our iPhone cameras and told us to have at it.

I went with my friend Iman out and about on campus, our plan being to improvise in public and see what happened. I’d put on some nicer clothes than my typical ‘hobo dance major’ look (a nice shirt, jeans, lipstick, etc.), and Iman, having just got out of class, was still in her leotard and tights. We looked around to find some interesting places to film, or locations that were pleasing to our eyes.

Iman wanted to go into a building with a lot of African art, so we did, and after awkwardly asking the woman working at the desk if we could take videos inside for a dance project, I filmed Iman dancing for her short film. I liked Mirror Lake, so I danced out by Mirror Lake and she filmed what I wanted for mine.

There were a few themes that emerged throughout as we tried Approach #1, which was simply dancing with the camera rolling. I subconsciously created a motif of benches, and of a ‘frozen’ period followed by a ‘dancing’ period, then ending with another ‘frozen’ period, to imply being trapped in monotony. These completely evolved out of my own habits, which is a sign that I need to become more aware of the pathways that my body is familiar with so that I can expand them—but that’s an adventure and a blog post for another day.

As I started noticing that I was quite fond of dancing on benches and that I liked to start and end in the same position, completely still, I decided that I wanted to title my film ‘Wake Up.’ I wanted it to be about someone who is trapped in a monotonous life—which is my personal worst nightmare. To me, the theme of monotony went with the feeling of being stuck, like there was no way you could escape from the same things you’d been doing, feeling, or thinking each and every single day. However, when we got into the editing room, I was really struggling to create something with my clips, because my idea had only emerged halfway through an improv session. I started wishing that I’d had clips of my eyes shut and open, for example, or that I had less people in the background of my film because I didn’t feel like their presence and the way they fell into the frame added to my concept in a way that I liked.

Then I kept remembering what my teachers at Burklyn Ballet Theatre’s intensive had told me over the summer of 2016, when I had the opportunity to create my first choreographic work: “Next time you choreograph, I would like to see you do things that are more abstract, because you work really well with literal movements. That’s comfortable to you. Expand your horizons.”

It wasn’t exactly choreography, as I’d improvised it and let it happen on its own, but the more that I looked at the material that I’d acquired, the more that I hated it and thought that it was too literal and too clumsy of a representation of my concept. It was too within my comfort zone. But, I told myself, “It’s okay—it’ll take a lot of time to re-film it, and I have so much homework to do.”

That class, Sofie talked to me and it turned out that Iman and I had misunderstood the requirements of the assignment. We were supposed to be behind the camera, as the discussions in class were going to be about camera angles—therefore, it’d be pretty hard for us to star in our own films.

Iman salvaged the footage of me and made something absolutely incredible that gave me chills. But when I watched the clips of Iman dancing, as gorgeous and creative as she was, it wasn’t something that resonated with my choreographic or directive (is that a real word?) voice—or, at least, the voice that I’m currently working on developing.

I wanted a blank slate. But this time, I had a plan. I had my idea and my title. I recruited my friend Sutton, and we set off on Approach #2 to this wonderful journey.

Here was a new obstacle: Sutton’s body is different than mine.

How he defined words and channeled them into movement was also different than the way I define and channel them. He interpreted “monotony” differently, he interpreted “struggle” differently, and he interpreted “wanting freedom” differently.

Sutton was also a little apprehensive at first, wondering if he was going to give me what I wanted or do things that were cool enough for my film. I think that my directing left a little to be desired at first, as well—I wasn’t very adept at communicating to him in a way that someone who can’t read my mind could understand. But we quickly fell into a rhythm. And I quickly fell in love with the way that Sutton’s body interpreted what I was telling him to do.

We stumbled across some happy accidents. I found an amazing brick wall outside of the art building with hand prints all over it, and it worked with the theme we’d been subconsciously creating throughout the process of the focus being on his hands and his feet. I saw a circular bench around a tree, and I thought, “That says monotony to me.” So I had him walk around it, over and over and over again.

When I got into the nitty gritty of the editing this time, I was excited. I had so many amazing clips to work with, and Sutton had given me way more than I could’ve ever asked for. There were a lot of clips that were really stand-alone moments that didn’t fit into any themes in my film, as interesting or visually pleasing as they were, so I didn’t utilize them. (They were such pure gold that I may go back and mine them later.) There were many clips that I trashed simply for the literality that they contained, as well. I got shots of Sutton with his eyes open and his eyes closed, like I initially thought I wanted, but I knew that there was a more graceful and loose way to communicate what I wanted to communicate without putting the constraints on it of the literal understanding of a phrase like “wake up.”

When I finally finished editing the film, I sat back and looked at it with a smile on my face. It is the first complete dance film I’ve ever created, and I learned how the process works. I learned that I like a lot of close-ups and half-body shots, and that’s what I naturally gravitate towards. I learned how to better communicate with a dancer what I want, and I learned how to better adapt when things don’t go as planned. I learned what some of my limitations are as a dancer and a director, plus the limitations that exist on the way I think of choreography. Now that I know where my limits are, I can push them so that they expand.

I learned that when you make a project like this, you should have at least some kind of basic plan or idea, and it's okay if that plan or idea changes or evolves. It's best to let it breathe.

I also learned to never settle for a finished product that is less than what you want (within reason.)

And at the end of the day, I had a great time filming and having fun with a pretty snazzy friend. (We got smoothies at the Berry Cafe after we finished filming, and we took the scenic route to the library to do so, stopping to take some ‘artsy’ pictures for Sutton’s social media accounts. It was strangely relaxing and cathartic after a whirlwind week.)

The moral of the story is, if you’re going to go out and film a dance film,

make sure that you understand the instructions of the assignment. Maybe also have a vague plan.

Or maybe don’t. Sometimes things not going as planned is actually the best thing that could have ever happened.

I present to you:

“Wake Up.” A dance film by Demetra Chiafos, starring Sutton Coffey, with music by The Kyoto Connection.

Link to dance film as posted on YouTube.

#video #dance