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Christina Scelfo The Helen & Norman Burg Ethics Prize Nominated by: Professor Leonard Cassuto Paper Written for Extraordinary Bodies, ENGL 3843, Fall 2009
Dancing With Disability
ABSTRACT Disabled persons are active participants in dance, even though the art is typically viewed as designed for the able-bodied individual. By restructuring dance education as opposed to forcing the disabled to conform to dance techniques developed for the able bodied, disabled persons can incorporate their disabilities into dance. In particular, I will explore the use of harnesses and prostheses versus altering the way dance techniques are presented in class. Through the case study of Heather Mills, I will demonstrate how methods that force the disabled dancer to conform to the able-bodied aesthetic further the notion that dance is limited to those whose bodies fit the dancer “norm.” In contrast, through the example of Homer Avila, I will show that a perfect body is not required to be a brilliant dancer. Although the disabled dancer is beginning to be recognized as a legitimate contributor to the art, much progress must still be made in the field before the general public acknowledges the validity of this type of dance. As this recognition grows, however, it furthers the acceptance of disability in society as a whole.
Although dance is widely seen as an art for the able bodied, much a result of the traditional ballet genre, disabled persons are active participants in the field. Currently, two main approaches exist to integrate disabled persons into dance. These include attempting to make the disabled body operate as an able body and allowing disability to be integrated into dance in its natural form. While many view the strategies that make the disabled conform to the able-body aesthetic beneficial, such as the use of harnesses or prostheses, this approach asserts that a body free from disability is necessary for dance to be legitimized, a view validated by the case study of
Heather Mills’ performances on Dancing with the Stars. However, by restructuring dance education, namely teaching strategies, as opposed to forcing the disabled to learn dance techniques developed for the able-bodied, disabled persons are able to incorporate their disabilities into dance and validate their place in the field. One individual who successfully 2
integrates disability into dance is the late Homer Avila, a contemporary dancer who lost his right
leg and hip to cancer. Examining Avila’s performances also calls into question to what extent disability should be emphasized in choreography for the disabled dancer. Although the incorporation of disability into dance has made tremendous strides over the years since the
beginning of the Disability Rights Movement, much must still be accomplished to have this type
of dance recognized as a valid contribution to art. It follows that the failure to recognize the disabled person’s dance ability has ethical ramifications, stemming from how the disabled population as a whole is viewed.
As described by Paddy Masefield, five traditional categories of disability exist. These
include physical, sensory, cognitive, mental health, and invisible impairment (cancer, epilepsy,
etc.) (65). Of those listed, this paper will focus on physical disability and its relation to dance,
such as the inclusion of wheelchair users and those with prostheses into the art. Fundamental to
my argument is the fact that dance is often viewed as a field for the able bodied. This
assumption stems largely from the standard set by the evolution of classical ballet into
contemporary ballet. Originating in France in the mid-18th century, classical ballet was most heavily shaped by Jean Georges Noverre and his concept of “ballet d’action” which placed focus on dancers’ movement to illustrate characters’ emotions as opposed to the cumbersome costumes that were traditionally used (Encyclopedia Britannica). During the age of Romanticism lasting into the mid-19th century, ballet conformed to the times and romantic ballets would tell the story of fairies and nymphs while portraying “women as fragile unearthly beings, delicate creatures who could be lifted effortlessly” (NationMaster.com). The use of pointe shoes also became extremely popular. By the early 20th century, contemporary ballet was emerging in Russia with the choreography of Michael Fokine, a member of the Ballet Russes, who placed an even greater 3
emphasis on movement of the dancers in order to articulate plot, as opposed to the use of
pantomime in classical ballet which was more explicit of the plot. (For example, signaling “I love you” by pointing to the heart, then the object of affection (Ambrosio 56).) Directly from
Fokine stemmed George Balanchine, also a member of the Ballet Russes, who moved to the
United States in 1933 and began creating ballets with little to no plot, focusing solely on dancers’ movement (59).
Although changes were made in the narrative of ballets, Balanchine kept to the
Romanticized image of the ballerina in his productions, typically tall, long-legged, narrow hipped, and thin dancers. Known as one of the “greatest contemporary choreographers,” his ballets have lived on, as companies such as the New York City ballet still perform his work (59).
Along with the legacy of Balanchine’s beautiful ballets, however, lives the image of the traditional ballerina. According to dance scholar Evan Alderson, the image of the ideal dancer
“is deeply imbedded in the ballet aesthetic, not just as a passing fashion, but as part of what makes the ballet ‘beautiful’” (Oliver 50). Thus, Wendy Oliver concludes that “because of the embedded nature of the beauty ideal in ballet, it is difficult to remove any one part of that ideal neatly and surgically without altering or destroying the whole” (50). This inability to separate the physical standard of the dancer from the dance becomes problematic when attempting to legitimize dance involving disabled persons, for as Anne Cooper Albright asserts, “Cracking the graceful image of dancer as graceful sylph, disabled dancers force the viewer to confront the cultural opposite of the classical body- the grotesque body” (59). If the archetypal dancer body cannot be removed from dance, can room ever be made for the disabled in this art?
Moreover, dancers clearly recognize these standards and willingly submit to them; as dance anthropologist Anna Aaelten observes, “ballet dancers acknowledge that being a 4
professional means accepting [physical] constraints…and consider these a challenge rather than
a straightjacket” (qtd. in Oliver 42). Clearly, dancers are trained to accept the corporal standards
expected of them as a performer, and as a result they maintain the standard of what has been
established as the ideal dancer’s body. The creation and acceptance by both dancer and audience
of such a standard has direct effects on the incorporation of disability into dance because the disabled body can never completely fit the standards set by ballet companies, even if adjustments are made that attempt to do just this. For example, even if an amputee uses a prosthetic limb while dancing, he or she will not be considered on par with an able bodied dancer of equal talent, merely because of the physical disparities that exist between the two. To further complicate this problem, because ballet is the foundation for virtually every genre of dance, the notion of possessing an ideal body to legitimately participate in dance transcends ballet and a standard is created for dance as a whole.
It follows then that the only way for disabled persons to break into the realm of dance and be recognized as genuine performers is to shatter the stereotypes created by ballet. One way to do this is by reforming the way ballet is taught to disabled individuals. By getting instructors to teach in a way that accommodates all persons, regardless of their body type, dance can move in the direction of being an art for all. Currently, many approaches exist to accommodate dancers with disabilities in dance class, but ultimately the ideal approach is to allow the disabled to fully participate in dance using their disabilities to their advantage instead of conforming to the aesthetics of an able bodied dancer.
A better sense of the current teaching approaches is gained by looking at specific examples, some of which make the dancer appear to have a normal body and others that incorporate disability into dance. One such example is the use of harnesses in dance classes to 5
allow individuals with poor motor skills to be relieved of most of their body weight in order to
attain a better range of motion. This strategy is demonstrated by Maryland Youth Ballet in a
program called Music & Motion. Here, physically disabled students, particularly those with cerebral palsy, are placed in a harness that hangs from the ceiling in a track (See Figure 1). This allows the students to “dance using their own feet” (Dolan 22). The director of Maryland Youth
Ballet argues that this strategy for teaching disabled people to dance benefits the individuals both physically and mentally, with research indicating that “partial weight-bearing therapy is the most promising in developing large motor skills” (22). Using dance as a form of exercise for the physically disabled is undoubtedly a positive and beneficial activity, but it does not allow individuals to use their disability to contribute to the art of dance. Instead, it forces the disabled body to come as close as it can to the accepted dancer body, suggesting that the disabled body is inferior and cannot participate in dance.
Figure 1. (Dolan 22)
A slightly more complicated case of disability within dance is that of individuals with prostheses. Although individuals with prosthetic limbs are clearly disabled when the prostheses 6
are removed, it is hard to say whether the prosthesis negates this disability to the point where
they can lead a life like an able-bodied human. With scientific advances making prostheses look
and function more and more like real limbs, it difficult to categorize these individuals as truly
disabled when wearing their prosthetic limb/s since they can once again operate with little limitations. The same applies when these individuals are placed in the realm of dance; those who use prosthetics, with adequate training, are now able to dance like able bodied individuals.
However, although the use of prostheses allows disabled persons to participate in the art of dance on a personal scale, no progress is made to give validity to the disabled body in dance because, again, the prosthesis promotes conformity to the stereotypical dancer body.
Conformity to the able-bodied aesthetic is adequately demonstrated through the case study of Heather Mills who recently appeared on Dancing with the Stars, an ABC reality show that pairs a celebrity who has no ballroom dance training with a professional ballroom dancer.
Over several weeks, couples compete and are eliminated based on the judges’ and audiences
votes combined. Mills, a former model who lost part of her left leg (below the knee) when she
was hit by a motorcycle in 1993, appeared on the show and danced with the aid of her prosthetic
leg, demonstrating a commendable ability to dance (Quinlan and Bates 65). Because of Mills’
success, she is described as a “supercrip” or someone that defies his or her disability and is able
to “perform beyond their corporeal limitations,” a dangerous label because it portrays disability
as something to be “overcome” (68). Thus, I think it is valid to consider her performances a
demonstration of conformity to the able-bodied dance model rather than an example of disability
within dance. As Bates and Quinlan state, “Mills used a prosthetic leg to pass as an able-bodied
individual and avoid being seen as a ‘freak’” (67). Just as the harnesses used by children with
cerebral palsy serve as an attempt to enable them to use their bodies as does an able-bodied 7
individual, so too does Mills’ prosthesis enable her disability to go virtually unnoticed if she so
chooses.
Moreover, I would go as far as saying that performances like Mills’ are detrimental to the
disabled dance community. Publicly, Mills is creating an image of a woman with a disability
who has conformed to the “norm” in order to be accepted into the dance community. Several times on the show, Mills’ leg would be the central focus of her routine. Instead of drawing attention away from the disability, Mills’ “cure” to her disability is highlighted as something that is necessary to overcome the obstacles posed by disability. Furthermore, when viewed as a role model for others with disabilities, Mills’ gives the impression that all disabled individuals “are
supposed to act as able-bodied as she does” and thus these people may feel “inadequate [if] they
cannot live up to this image” (75). As Quinlan and Bates note, Mills’ image is particularly
damaging to disabled dancers who do not possess the same luxuries as someone as wealthy as
Mills. Not every disabled person missing a limb will be able to afford a prosthesis that is of the
same quality as Mills’s. Additionally, Mills’ amputation was done below the knee so her dance
ability may have been compromised if she was unfortunate enough to lose her knee as well (70).
For example, a woman interviewed commented, “My amputation is near the hip . . . which
means almost no mobility. People who are not familiar with amputations now think ALL
amputees can dance like Heather’’ (Hughes). Of course Mills will be painted as the “supercrip”
who is able to overcome all obstacles in the interest of drawing viewers and achieving higher
television ratings. However, these are important points that are often overlooked on a
mainstream television show that wants to appeal to the masses, but should be given sufficient
attention. 8
A strategy more conducive to incorporating disability into dance is the alteration of the way dance techniques are presented in class. Sarah Whatley of Coventry University in the
United Kingdom studies the experience of disabled dance students in class and what teaching strategies work best for them. In the dance classes taught at Coventry, traditional teaching methods are challenged and replaced with novel models. Two methods observed by Whatley seem most effective. The first, termed “translation and adaptation,” aims to “to focus on the anatomical purpose of the exercise or phrase rather than attempting to reproduce the same
(visual) form and aesthetic outcome” (13). This “encourag[es] students to identify what an exercise is for, recognizing that the information is the same (for example, ‘lifting the belly’) even if the felt sensation and physical outcome is different for each individual dancer, based as it is on each individual dancer’s body” (13). This teaching strategy clearly attempts to produce a result in the dancer that may not manifest itself in the same way for every individual. The dance instructor recognizes that each body is unique, so all members of the class are able to attain the
same end, such as the example of lifting the belly, in a way that works for them. Thus, the
fundamentals of dance are conveyed, but not restricted to particular body movements that not
everyone may be capable of executing. Whatley terms the second strategy “variation,” in which
focus is placed on “different body parts, including hands and wrists, not just legs and feet” (13).
Although Western dance stresses the legs and feet, dance encompasses and takes advantage of
the entire range of body parts, and the hands and wrists are valid alternatives to be emphasized
when use of the legs and feet are restricted. In fact, even when the legs and feet are fully
functional, certain styles of dance place heavy focus on the hands and wrists including many
eastern dance styles such Kathakali, a classical Indian genre of dance (Wikipedia). By placing
the focus of movement on parts of the body that are fully functional, the physically disabled 9
individual is able to surpass his or her disability and perfect other styles of dance that are more
suited to their body type, which ultimately is what even able bodied dancers do, since few
dancers can perfect every technique they learn.
It is worth noting some of the specific exercises that Whatley describes to illustrate the teaching techniques above. One such exercise is the plié. The main purpose of this exercise is to
explore the “mechanics of weight-bearing joints and how the different joints in the legs and the
rest of the body bear weight” (Whatley 14). Instead of limiting the weight-bearing joints to the knees and ankles, “Each student finds their own place to bear weight (either through the legs or arms, with the floor or with a partner) for a given number of counts, gradually reducing from eight counts to four, two and one count” (14). Although this would not be considered a traditional plié, the same lesson is taught; alignment, control, and weight bearing in various body parts (14). Modified travel exercises across the floor sever as another example. In this exercise,
“working with a partner, one student travels forwards, the other backwards, with changes of direction in a combination of steps, gallops or manipulating the wheelchair to explore spatial
orientation, patterns and how the momentum of the body propels movement” (14). Again, the
same end is attained, the development of “locomotion skills, focus, rhythmic understanding and
partnering skills,” even though some students are wheelchair users and others are able bodied
(14).
Another alternative teaching method is integrating a technique called contact integration
into dance instruction. As described by Albright, contact integration “aims to create…a
‘responsive body,’ one based in the physical exchange of weight” (62). Instead of focusing on
controlled steps or body movements, this form of dance “emphasizes the release of the body’s weight into the floor or into a partner’s body” and “flow of the movement between two bodies is 10
more important than specific shapes or formal positions” (62). This is a suitable style for
disabled dancers because their bodies are not forced to attain positions that they are not
physically capable of, such as the five positions of ballet or turn-out of the hips. By learning a different genre of dance that does not include such formalities, disabled dancers can excel in a form more suitable to their bodies and begin to be recognized for their abilities rather than their shortcomings in genres that cannot be mastered because of physical limitations. Combined with the teaching strategies described by Whatley, disabled dancers will be able to learn the fundamentals of dance and apply them to a genre in which they can succeed.
One dancer that exemplifies how disability can be integrated into dance without conforming to the able-bodied paradigm is Homer Avila, a dancer and choreographer who had his leg and hip amputated mid-career as a result of chrondrosarcoma, a rare form of cancer.
After surgery, Avila quickly returned to dance and was able to perform within a year
(Blogofdeath.com). After watching videos of Avila, it is easy to see how he uses the other parts his body to compensate for the loss of his leg and hip. Avila has developed extreme upper body strength and uses his hands and arms to navigate the stage, as well as his newly distributed sense of balance in order to dance on one leg (See Figure 2). Avila’s missing leg and hip take away nothing from the beauty of the performance and the viewer is drawn to the movements made by
Avila’s body rather than the apparent lack of his leg. As described by Dance Magazine, “Avila moves with such fluidity and power that your eyes can be tricked into thinking he is dancing with three legs rather than with one” (15). Through his relatively short re-training period, Avila was able to take his knowledge of dance and apply it to his altered body. He said, “Because [I] lost [my] leg [I] didn’t stop being an artist…[I am] not a disabled dancer; [I am] an artist with some advantages and some disadvantages” (Patrick 1). However, this is only possible by using 11
techniques as described above; taking fundamental dance concepts and applying them to
individuals regardless of their body type to create dance.
Figure 2. Homer Avila demonstrates his redistribution of balance and upper body strength
(http://www.youtube.com/watch ?v=4xtTmcr1w64).
After assessing how dance should be taught to disabled individuals, the next question
becomes to what extent disability should be emphasized in choreography and how that affects
what the audience takes away from the piece. If too much attention is placed on a disability, for
example by choreographing with a heavy focus on the legs of a wheelchair user, the audience may be inclined to constantly compare the disabled dancer to an able-bodied dancer with full use of their legs. Or in the case of a person with only one leg, choreography with too much emphasis on the remaining leg may call attention to the dancer’s shortcomings and leave the audience with a feeling of sympathy for the dancer who cannot execute leg movements as well as an able- bodied person could. The challenge then becomes to showcase disability in such a way that it contributes to the art of the choreography, but is not the main focus of the piece. Because we are 12
asked to directly look at the physical body in dance performance, the unique qualities of the disabled dancer should be viewed, but as part of a whole, creating an innovative dance genre.
As for audience response, watching a dance performance is ultimately an act of staring, so it should follow that we look to Rosemarie Garland-Thomson for ideas on what an audience should take away from a disabled dancer’s performance. In many ways, the dance becomes like the paintings of the burn victims discussed in Staring: How We Look, through which Doug Auld and Chris Rush create a medium in which staring is allowed and encouraged. As Garland-
Thomson says of Auld, “He intends these paintings to let us stare without having to look away”
(80). Such paintings allow the able-bodied to get a good look at disability without staring at the staree face-to-face. This type of encounter with disability allows the starer to abandon his or her inhibitions, free themselves from guilt and form a connection with the subject depicted. An important aspect of these painting is the fact that the subjects are portrayed as strong, autonomous individuals, which “revalue[s] devalued people” (83). Through this image, the starer is not only able to acquaint themselves with physical disability, but also with the notion that the disabled person is human just like any other able-bodied individual and is in no way inferior. In the same way, an audience member is allowed to stare at the disabled dancer, acquainting themselves with disability and allowing themselves time to normalize the staree and gain an understanding of him or her. By the end of the performance, watching the disabled dancer will hopefully establish the dancer’s autonomy and bring a sense of novelty and validity to the dance genre.
The integration of disability into dance has made great strides over the last twenty to thirty years. In the wake of the Disability Rights Movement beginning in the 1970s, the disabled began breaking into the field of professional dance. In 1980, Dancing Wheels Company was 13
founded, “the first modern dance company to integrate professional stand-up and sit-down
(wheelchair) dancers” (www.gggreg.com). Throughout the 80s and 90s, more dance companies that integrated the disabled came into being, including Diverse Dance in Seattle, Washington,
AXIS Dance Company in Oakland, California, and CandoCo in England. At present, countless mixed-ability dace companies exist throughout the United States and the world, combining both disabled and able-bodied dancers. From early in their development to the present day, these companies have faced criticism about the validity of the genre of dance being performed. One major debate that is still prevalent is whether disability within dance is art or merely therapy.
When asked about this issue in 2005, Judith Smith, Artistic Director from AXIS Dance
Company, spoke of her own experience with this debate, citing a scenario in 2000 in which a consultant on a panel assessing whether AXIS was producing art or conducting therapy only deduced the former after witnessing the company’s work. (Examples of AXIS pieces can be found at http://www.axisdance.org/performance_repertory.php.) Smith hypothesizes that only by involving already popular dancers and “creating work that was at a higher level” will AXIS and the art form be “taken seriously.”
This debate continues today, although progress has been made. As recently as last week in the New York Times (November 24, 2009), the director of the experimental theatre production
“Diagnosis of a Faun,” Tamar Rogoff, was acclaimed for “changing the way [actor Gregg
Mozgala, who has cerebral palsy,] walks,” (Genzlinger). The article even goes as far as suggesting that Mozgala’s body’s transformation is the “more important work of art” as compared to the play itself. Clearly, the Times suggests that the therapy aspect of the play takes precedence over Mozgala’s contribution to dance. However, after attending the performance and listening to a question and answer session with the cast following the production, the focus was 14
extremely different. In fact, Rogoff explains that the choreography of Diagnosis of a Faun was built around Mozgala’s body and not vice versa. She says, “I am not a physical therapist.
Although Gregg’s body and sense of balance were often a challenge, we worked around these issues in order to reinvent dance.” For example, in the beginning scenes of the production,
Mozgala’s dance is largely floor based with emphasis on arm movements and body positioning in relation to the rock he is dancing on (See Figure 3). Thus, the physical benefits gained by
Mozgala were only secondary to bringing Rogoff’s theatrical ideas to life.
Figure 3. (Lemberger)
Rogoff also claims that she recruited Mozgala for his talent, not because she was seeking someone with a disability for the role of the faun. Clearly, there exists a disparity between what
Rogoff emphasizes about Mozgala and “Diagnosis of a Faun” and what is stressed in the New
York Times article. This difference seems to suggest that although disability is accepted by choreographers, dance companies and the dance community as a whole, the general public has yet to fully grasp the idea of disability as art, not therapy. In sum, the lay audience member has not yet been completely convinced that there is a place for the disabled in dance and still believes that the disabled should learn to conform to the ideal dancer-body standard, although these views are slowly changing as more productions like “Diagnosis of a Faun” become mainstream. (For a 15
video clip of Mozgala in rehearsal see http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/25/arts/dance/
25palsy.html?emc=eta1.)
Although recognition of the validity of disabled dancers is moving in the right direction,
failure to acknowledge the disabled dancer as legitimate not only has ethical ramifications for the
dancer but for the disabled population as a whole. Author Julie Smart sheds light on these
ethical consequences with her discussion of “difference” versus “deviance.” According to
Smart, being “different” often has positive connotations and is “considered desirable, enriching,
valuable, and strengthening to the larger group” (137). However, “deviance” is considered
“socially undesirable, weakening to the larger group and…impl[ies] shame and blame, holding
the “deviant” individual responsible both for his or her own devaluation and for many of society’s problems” (138-40). Moreover, Smith argues, “people considered inferior do not have freedom, dignity, or security” (141). As a result of the long-standing view of disability as negative, studies have shown that disabled persons fall into the category of “deviants.” When this attitude is applied to disabled dancers, it follows that the difference in their dance style will be considered inferior to that of able-bodied dancers since it “deviates” from the ballet-created norm. Following Smith’s logic, viewing the disabled dancer in this light labels him or her with the attributes of a deviant described above. This is clearly unethical since the viewer is attributing false, negative, and undeserved characteristics to the disabled dancer. However, if we begin to shift our views of the disabled dancer from “deviant” to “different” we not only validate his or her dance ability, but promote the application of this shift in attitude towards the general disabled population.
Ultimately, it is only when a new approach to dance education is adopted that the disabled can be fully incorporated into the art in a way that praises their abilities rather than 16
highlighting their physical disabilities. The disabled should not be forced to conform to the
aesthetics set in place by the able-bodied dancer and in no way should be penalized for being
unable to use their bodies in the same way an able-bodied dancer is able to. Whereas Homer
Avila perfected his performance to the point where his disability could be the theme of his dance,
but still not deter from the piece as a whole, Heather Mills unknowingly promotes conformity to
the able-bodied standard in dance. Lastly, because dance is clearly an art to be viewed by others,
of great importance is what the audience takes away from dance. In the case of disability, the
dancer should strive to convey his or her aptitude to apply fundamental dance techniques to an
extraordinary body and shatter the stereotype of the perfect dancer’s body. Although this goal is
being achieved by many disabled dancers in companies throughout the world, much progress must still be made to prove to the general public that the disabled dancer makes a legitimate and
unparalleled contribution to the art of dance. In time, this sense of acceptance can be applied to
the role of disabled persons in general so they can be recognized as beneficial members of
society.
17
Works Cited
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Ambrosio, Nora. Learning About Dance. 3rd ed. Dubuque: Kendall/Hunt Company, 2003. Print.
"The Company." Dancing Wheels. Dancing Wheels Company. Web. 2 Dec. 2009.
Dolan, Rachel L. "Dancing from the Heart." Dance Magazine June 2007: 22. EBSCOhost. Web.
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