In a conversation you take turns. When my friend is speaking, I listen wholeheartedly. When I speak, my friend listens. We don't just wait for "my turn to talk," we listen intently and do our best to take in what the other has to say.
You know those dreadful "conversations" where some self-absorbed bore drones on & on and you're just supposed to ooo and ahh at his spellbinding storytelling, his pearls of wisdom? That's what traditional man-lead-woman-follow partner dancing looks like to people who dance collaboratively. The best a follower can hope for is an interesting lecture. We don't go dancing to get lectured; who needs that?
Collaborative dance partners share power and creative control: no one's the boss. The music rules: partners work together to embody the music as fully as possible. Both partners give everything, all their skill and musicality. Both partners receive the other's gifts and dance with them.
Learning to dance takes thousands of hours of dedicated work, but the goal is play: the searingly beautiful play of two passionate, skilled dancers improvising together right at the limit of their abilities, with jaw-dropping connection and musicality. Two artists improvising like that are uncowed by "perfection," instead creating an unexpected work, something new; creation is by definition new. John Ruskin's famous quote applies in spades when two artists create together.
When I teach, I encourage dancers to play more, to try things out, to trust their instincts, to go ahead and take that step the music's begging for, whatever role they're dancing. And I encourage dancers in the leader role to play with whatever their partners offer them, happily following when roles shift unexpectedly. A role's not who you are, it's just a hat you happen to be wearing at the moment. Give it up gracefully!
Music keeps us together. Music moves us, it gets us going, and music keeps us together as we move. It's a lot easier to move together if we're both moved by the music. Music helps connect me with my partner: we connect inside the music, the shared element we dance in. To dance musically I have to surrender to the music, which means I have to love or at least like it. I can't dance musically to music I dislike.
Music is not just the beat. Yes, the basic beat is crucial, but music is so much more: mood, melody, dynamics, structure. If all I pay attention to is the beat, treating the music like a metronome for timing my moves, my dancing is mechanical and shallow. Dancing musically is dancing to the whole song, surrendering to it. Moving the way the music moves: soaring when it soars, stretching when it stretches, stopping when it stops. Especially the bit about stopping.
Musicality makes dancing delicious; nothing else does. I can learn a zillion moves, and my dancing can be technically awesome, but it doesn't begin to be delicious until I surrender to the music. I have to learn to surrender and follow the music, and follow the music in my partner, particularly when I'm leading.
The music rules, not anyone's ideas about what to dance next. Dance based on thinking is awkward and disconnected from the music and my partner; stringing a bunch of moves together is not the same thing as dancing. Dancing is an art, not merely the serial execution of moves. Art demands sensitivity, and taste; less is almost always more.
Collaborative partner dancers refine the traditional roles so that all the dancing is voluntary, respectful, and mutually creative. This is not a new thing; it's what many advanced dancers naturally arrive at. Some core refinements:
Collaborative leading is inviting, rather than ordering, pushing, pulling or cranking my partner around. Collaborative following is responding freely to the invitation without being limited by it: as a collaborative follower I'm free to accept, decline, or creatively move the dance in a different direction.
Responding is not the same as interpreting. Interpreting is expanding on something given. A response, by contrast, is free to go in any direction, including "yeah, I got a better idea..." That kind of response is pretty standard among collaborative dancers; it's indicative of the kind of playfulness and equality that collaborative dancing engenders.
Collaborative following is active, creative, and free of submission;
collaborative leading is sensitive, responsive, and free of domination.
To follow collaboratively, I don't obey my partner, and I don't struggle with my partner. Instead, I receive my partner's idea and do everything I can to dance with it, actively and creatively. My default is to take my partner's invitation and run with it; give it extra oomph. I follow with power steering, amplifying and extending what my partner has initiated. But if I don't like how it's going, or have a different idea, I'm free to refuse or redirect.
I love to be interrupted & redirected when I'm dancing as a leader. I've found that my partner's interruptions almost always make the dancing more musical; dancing the following role naturally encourages deeper listening. Dancing the leader role requires thinking and planning, at least in the early stages of learning to dance, and that can become a nasty habit. I'm no fun to dance with if I'm all up in my head thinking about moves.
To lead collaboratively, I never try to move my partner. I move myself, and that movement contains an intrinsic invitation: my movement invites a response from my partner. I dance with whatever response I get. I never insist on something I was expecting.
My movements as a leader don't push or pull my partner, however gently; they're simply invitations. I cultivate the equivalent of shear pins all over my body: if my partner moves unexpectedly, I give way immediately, and fully. Whatever my partner does, I follow that: I respond in a way that keeps the dancing going.
Collaborative leading requires following. Ordinary good leading requires knowing where your partner's weight and balance are, and what kind of step will be easy and natural. Collaborative leading is suggesting movement like that, and then following whatever actually does happen in response without resistance, fluidly adapting, always ready to offer support to make the movement easier and more musical.
Embrace and frame are two contrasting words that are used to describe the physical connection between dance partners. An embrace is a hug: you and your partner draw close and gently hold each other; an embrace is a gesture of love. Framing calls to mind two by fours and steel beams: the necessarily rigid framework that supports a structure.
Different dances and schools of dancing have tended to go one way or the other: the basic stance or starting point is either a gentle hug, or holding your partner firmly away. Framing generally indicates a separation between you and your partner; an embrace can be either open or closed. Collaborative dancers move fluidly through many degrees of open and close embrace.
Overusing arms & giving weight. Beginning dancers have a tendency to overuse their arms anyway; being taught to have "good strong frame" can compound this bad tendency. I still have chronic arm and shoulder pain from poor use/overuse of my arms as a beginner. I was taught to be very firm indeed; "arms like steel bands" were words I heard spoken admiringly in class. Not a happy memory. My partner and I were also supposed to settle back into each other's arms and counterbalance, to give weight to each other. That was really hard on my shoulders; I don't think shoulders were meant for that kind of stress.
Dynamism yes! However, there can be plenty of dynamism - compression and elasticity - in even the closest of embraces. Zydeco and balboa are dynamic close embrace dances. Tango is full of dynamism, but it's generally brief - just a dynamic moment for a specific purpose, then back to a neutral embrace, each partner balanced of their own axis.
Three uses for embrace. A collaborative embrace is not for moving my partner or being moved by my partner. It has 3 purposes: communicating ideas and suggestions back and forth, stabilizing the spatial relationship between the 2 dancing bodies, and offering support for my partner's voluntary movements.
The leader makes a suggestion; the best leading come from the core. The follower feels what's happening in the leader's core via the arms, and simultaneously sees the leader's movement, grasping the intent of that movement and moving in response. The embrace helps coordinate and stabilize the partners' independent but connected movements; each partner offers the other firmness and support, when asked for, to make the movement easier. "When asked for" is the key phrase here: there's no pushing or pulling. Instead, each partner is ready and willing to offer responsive support.
When my partner asks for responsive support, there can be a lot of strength and intensity in the embrace, for that moment. But for the other 99%+ of the dance, I want my embrace to be featherlight. A light touch is much more conducive to collaboration than a heavy one. Beginning dancers typically use a heavier touch, with more muscular exertion in the embrace. This make coordination more predictable, and helps with balance; beginners tend to rely on each other for help with balance.
Skilled dancers learn to use a lighter touch, and maintain their own balance. A heavy touch is fatiguing, and can easily feel overbearing. Common sense dictates using no more force or pressure than necessary to communicate back and forth and dance together; unnecessary pressure just wears me out, and my arms and shoulders often get especially sore; I have a repetitive stress injury in one shoulder from lots of heavy framing & counterbalancing as a beginner. Now I aim to err if anything on the light side, using just the amount of strength needed to communicate and keep the dance going, and being especially happy if the dance goes in unexpected directions.
I use my strength to move myself, not my partner. Moving myself at the right time to the right spot with the right shape creates a delicious somatic invitation when I'm leading, and an equally delicious response when I'm following.
...dancers aren't defined or labeled as leaders or followers. Leading and following are things you do, not people you are. They're like roles in a play: I can play any role I like, but I have to do the hard work of learning the part. The work is plenty hard, whichever role I'm learning.
If partner dancing is a conversation, then leading is like speaking and following is like listening. It's a lousy excuse for a conversation is one person always talks and the other always listens; that's just a lecture. A conversation is an exchange between equals; in a real conversation no one has authority, no one's in control, no one's directing or guiding. In a real conversation, both parties are free to speak up, with absolute equality. And both listen, genuinely and generously.
And there's an important hierarchy: listening is more important than speaking. Collaboration requires that I listen first, and not be overeager to speak. I listen intently, all the time. My partner & I both value listening over speaking. Listening is first, listening is crucial, listening is primal.
Of course both partners speak, but sensitively, respectfully, never overbearingly. Both partners are quick to shut up and be responsive, quick to avoid both speaking at once. Both of us listening to the music together is sweet and connected: we're in no rush, there's no hurry to get somewhere. Both of us talking at once is noisy and disconnected.
This is an exhilarating way to dance: playful, creative, humane, egalitarian and potentially ecstatic. What makes it possible is a deep grounding in the language of leading and following: the skills, trained reflexes and vocabulary I build up over the years as I take dance classes, build technique, and dance dance dance.
I have to learn both parts! Collaboration is advanced conversation; to do it I have to speak partner dance, with all its nuance and complexity, in a particularly nuanced and complex way: speaking either part at will, skillfully blending the parts into a real conversation with my partner, a genuinely cooperative egalitarian art project. I have to accumulate quite a lot of those skills, reflexes and vocabulary to be able to collaborate, and I have to accumulate them on both sides of the embrace, leading and following.
As part of getting competent in both roles, I also learn the skills and responses that are specific to swapping and blending roles, the skills of fluid transition, subtle changes in tone, and blending of energy. All told, it's a lotta damn work. But OMFG...