Student Blog: From Precision To Expression

I came into college with a lot of dance technique. In high school, most of my training focused on precision and technical execution rather than performance. The roles I played rarely required dancing, so I never had to combine acting with my movement. Since coming to college and training at a more professional level, I’ve realized that technique alone isn’t what books jobs. Performers need a combination of strong technique and compelling performance.

Ballet has been the style I’ve studied the longest, which is why I feel most comfortable with controlled, precise movement. Because of that training, I prefer choreography that is clearly structured and has a “correct” way to execute each step. However, dancing every day at 8 a.m. for the past year and a half has pushed me outside of that comfort zone. I’ve realized that my most challenging style is modern because it requires being grounded, letting go, and focusing on expression rather than perfection.

Taking creative risks in modern class has meant allowing myself to move without knowing exactly what comes next and trusting my instincts rather than relying purely on technique. Instead of focusing on whether every movement is technically perfect, I’ve had to focus on storytelling and artistry.

In modern class at Otterbein, we often do entire across-the-floor movements that are purely improvisational and fully on the floor. We just have to make it from one end of the dance floor to the other without actually “dancing”. Just moving. There are no counts or “right” steps. We just have to explore movement and transitions while keeping focused on being “grounded” and connected to the floor. For someone used to exact steps and counts, this kind of freedom feels overwhelming and uncomfortable. Instead of relying on technique or memorized choreography, I have to trust my instincts and let my body respond in the moment.

These kinds of exercises used to (and sometimes still do) stress me out because I have to just let go and trust my body just to move, while all I want is to be told explicitly what to do. Even in our combinations, the teacher lets us be free with counts and timing in order to fully feel the movements. That shift has been uncomfortable at times, but it has helped me grow as a performer and understand that vulnerability and expression are just as important as clean technique. 

I have spent years being afraid of what makes me uncomfortable, and I am so happy that I have realized that to grow, I need to do things that I don’t know how to do, or things that I am not immediately good at, or things that I feel insanely silly doing. Those experiences are what are making me a better, more well-rounded performer. Not just someone who can execute steps, but someone who can bring the movements to life.