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.
Listening is more important than speaking. I begin by listening, to the music and my partner. I'm not 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.
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, and whichever partner's in the zone with the music leads the way. Both partners give it all they've got, 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 taught, I encouraged 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 encouraged 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. Wear any hat gracefully!
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.