The road to dance also for the blind from birth
Recently, I learned that within the blind community, there are differences in life views and values between those who are blind from birth and those who became blind later in life due to an eye disease.
This also translates into dance.
At first, it seems logical to me that someone who once had sight has a certain memory of how things were motorically in the past. But last week, I had a phone call with a wonderful woman, Eva, who has the eye disease retinitis pigmentosa. She explained to me that she is losing her visual memory, and her body's memory is increasingly relying on haptic perception.
I am not entirely sure what blind people mean by this, but I suspect it has to do with things being forgotten or fading into the background while new reference points emerge through other senses. I am making it my task to investigate this. Imagine that, instead of suddenly going blind, you suddenly regain your sight after years of blindness. I wonder if the shock wouldn’t be just as great? And would it be even greater if you were born blind or lost your sight at a very young age, only to wake up 30 years later with sight?
I can well imagine that the confusion must be enormous and that all former reference points might not disappear but instead are entirely questioned. Wouldn’t that also cause unrest? Certain things you interpreted in one way might turn out to be completely different from what you imagined. Or better said, suddenly feel entirely different? This makes me think of the legend of Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, who were raised by a wolf. Or even better, Tarzan, who grew up among the apes and became the king of the jungle. Tarzan becomes human when he meets Jane and enters the human world. He quickly turns out to be some kind of lord, and in no time, he becomes a true gentleman with all the associated etiquette and knowledge. But he always returns to the jungle to climb trees and let out his famous jungle cry: master of the jungle, or in other words, “human among animals.” In this context, I imagine this: you wake up and see again. For example, with a bionic eye for people with retinitis pigmentosa.
What happens then? I would like to ask the readers of #do:
Imagine waking up tomorrow morning and being able to see again. What would that do to you? How would you view your previous reference points, and how would you view the new ones? Can you imagine such a thing? Would you still take the old reference points as the only truth? What if you were to combine old and new reference points? How much do you think the new ability to see would impact your being? How much do you think seeing would take over again? And how quickly do you think that would happen?
Such a plethora of questions, and I think I am certainly not the only one.
If we now apply this to dance:
Does motor memory make sense? What do you think it would do to your dance skills? What do you think it would do to your confidence? What do you think it would do to the aesthetic finish of a movement? By seeing or by feeling? Shouldn’t we continue to safeguard the “sense of feeling” and not “seeing”?
What I observed in one of our dancers (Georgia Venetakis, blind from birth) is that whether blind from birth or blind due to disease, it makes no difference in the execution of the figure. Later, I learned that in her youth, much attention was given to movement, gymnastics, and motor skills in general. Again, I emphasize the importance of teaching “dance” at a young age. Georgia is what we call motorically strong as a blind person. Some people are born more motorically gifted than others, but nurturing movement in the early years is crucial.
Look at how she works with the figure here: “coca-cola.” The coca-cola is an internationally recognized figure in Cuban salsa, where a left turn is made on a straight line and initiated by the leading dance partner. The leader keeps the follower upright on their axis and then pulls them into a smooth left turn from point A to point B, covering 180 degrees. The follower turns 360 degrees themselves.
For those who can see, she does it excellently.
Blind from birth or blind due to illness, a distinction must be made between a sport with a protocol and one without. Do we adhere to the rules of this sport or not? Unfortunately, I find it painful that within such a small community as the blind community, where every voice counts, a division is made between those blind from birth and those blind due to illness in dance. I find that painful because every voice counts, and united, much more can be achieved. Blind or not, in every sport, protocol is the only way forward and the only language. A structural foundation of a dance style serves as the main reference. Other reference points also present themselves, such as emotional intelligence, involvement, environmental circumstances, etc. Whether it’s classical ballet, jazz, hip hop, contemporary, or salsa, the rule is the same for everyone, and blind people cannot simply do whatever they please.
Consider, for instance, torball and the rules of G-sport Vlaanderen, for which I share the link here: https://www.gsportvlaanderen.be/uploads/documents/Reglement-torbal-pdf.pdf
It states in the first paragraph:
Technique, strength, and concentration are therefore the basic components of this sport.
The same should apply to dance, with a general classification.
The issue, however, is that in the dance world, classification is not always as perfectly outlined. General rules are known, be it for classical ballet or amateur dances like salsa or other partner dances (kizomba or lindy hop, …). The abundance of styles makes classification in dance more difficult. This is, of course, tied to the style and the quality standards defined within it. For instance, think of the ballet competition in Lausanne, where the best dancers in the world are judged.
In torball, distinctions are also made between restricted body positions and free body positions, with specific guidelines on when one must be used and the other can be. This should also be applied to dance for blind and visually impaired people. If room is created for individual interpretation, the imposed framework within which one operates must first and foremost be considered. Afterward, creativity and personal expression can add great value to the overall aesthetics.
Therefore, I encourage every blind person (whether from birth or not) to write their own sports protocol. Create a dance style that applies to you or works for you within a strong framework. This way, everyone can enjoy dancing with closed eyes and show the world how…. transcendent elements…. are enriching.
Image Description
photo1: Manuel dances in a closed position with Georgia. Both are dressed in black.
video1: Execution of the coca-cola by both dancers in front and rear view.
