I’m interested in opening up this blog to contributions from friends and family, as well as strangers who might be interested in writing something on one of the themes explored in this blog. I’m particularly into the idea of hearing about other people’s experiences with reading and writing, or any other art form, and my friend, Sam, very kindly offered to share his story with writing and dance, below.

– Isabella

Writing and Dance

I used to want to be a writer but then dance kind of took over. I had my artistic awakening after reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac. One of my friends at school had told me about it and even lent me his copy. I devoured it and loved every minute. Up until that point, I’d mainly read fantasy. I used to read almost every night before bed, and really enjoyed it, but had really only read books like The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. It was pure escapism.

On the Road was different, however. It inspired me and made me feel like that kind of a life was within reach. I could relate to the characters and it made me want to get out there and get on the road myself. It was art as expression, as the need to get something off one’s chest and share it with the world. It was also art as therapy. 

Kerouac then led me onto Allen Ginsberg and William S. Burroughs, who in turn led me onto writers like William Blake. I was hooked and barely paused for breath before burrowing myself into the next book. I was also lucky as quite a few of my friends were also interested in reading and we used to share books and talk about them. We even pretended to be some of the characters in the novels we were reading, or at least talked about which of us was most like which character in a certain book. 

Indeed, along with two of my best friends, Sid and Simon, we each decided who was most like the main characters in On the Road. Carlo Marx, a character based on the real life Allen Ginsberg, was most like me, we decided, while Sal Paradise, the book’s protagonist, based on its author, Jack Kerouac, was most like Simon. Which meant that Dean Moriarty, based on the real life Neal Cassady, and the Casanova of the book, was claimed by Sid. I was the quieter one, the more nerdy one, perhaps even the most queer. Sid was the wild one, the one who had the most luck with girls at the time, and Peter, the most earnest of the bunch. We even once did a road trip across the states and recreated some of the scenes from that book, visiting the grave of Allen Ginsberg, among other things.

I was also very interested in music at the time and would spend my evenings listening to music and reading music blogs, even starting my own. I also played in bands and we’d do cover versions of songs we liked, but also tried writing our own. Around this time, I also started writing. I used to document the things around me, capturing moments and impressions of mine that felt significant and tried turning those things into songs or poems. I didn’t share very much but my notebooks were filled with sketches and ideas for short stories and poems.

I had also wanted to study English, or maybe film (or something along those lines), and actually dropped out of my first degree to pursue this further. Then, later, after moving to Berlin, I got involved in dance. I’d ended up doing a masters in social anthropology, and enjoyed it, but had also spent a lot of time on my own in the library and wanted to get out more and do something a bit more out of my comfort zone and decided that the performing arts was the best way to do that. 

I signed up for a theatre class near where we lived in Hampstead, London, and really enjoyed it, although it also was pretty nerve wracking at times! I’d wanted to continue with it after moving to Berlin, but it soon became clear to me that dance was a much more happening scene there than theatre was, especially for people who didn’t speak German.

It also helped that my partner at the time was into dance. She was, in fact, named after one of Pina Bausch’s dancers and her mother was also a dance teacher! We used to go to dance class together and, after we split up, I continued going and eventually got involved with a group of dancers who had all spent time at a dance space just outside of Berlin. I was even asked to perform for some of them and, without really planning it, had a bit of a dance career myself.

What Now?

I ended up moving back to the UK, my home country, and have been figuring out where to go from here. I applied to some dance schools before the pandemic, but didn’t get in, and then the lockdown made dance hard. I’ve also had to figure out how to pay the bills and the rent isn’t getting any cheaper, especially in London! 

I’ve had to branch out and diversify but still take myself out to the occasional dance class and keep my eyes peeled for open calls and any friends or other artists who might need performers. I feel myself being drawn back to writing also, especially as a lot of my work now revolves around reading and writing. I do copywriting and editing and enjoy it. I’m also pretty good at it, if it’s okay to say that about myself!

I don’t necessarily try and combine both writing and dancing, and see them as mostly separate practices, but they do inform one another quite well. I guess writing is quite solitary but you can always share your writing with friends or at open mics. Dance can also be done alone but, most of the time, it’s about sharing the experience with others or doing it in front of an audience. I find that journaling helps me to get my ideas out on paper and to help sort through things in my head, which in turn can influence my dance practice.

I once took a course on writing and dance and found that quite enlightening. Dance is an ephemeral practice and, while it can be recorded, it’s hard to capture the experience of seeing it live. It’s also quite a subjective experience, and often leaves a lot to the imagination, in terms of what someone might think the piece is ‘about’, or what kinds of things it might make you feel. 

It can be interesting to respond to dance through text in sharing how you responded to it, or even in writing something that somehow reflects the energy of the piece you just saw. Likewise, I’m sure many dancers have been inspired by some of the great works of literature and have responded to this in their practice, or perhaps even just to something somewhat might have said that they found particularly moving.