Rimmer 2014 HEA Heroes and Monsters Paper
Rimmer 2014
HEA Heroes and Monsters Paper
Rachel Rimmer MA, FHEA
Lecturer in Dance
Department of Contemporary Arts
MMU in Cheshire
0161 247 5225
Introducing Choice in the Higher Education Dance Technique Class:
Confronting the Ghosts of Technique Classes Past
Abstract
In confronting the ghosts of technique classes past, how does the act of introducing alternative learning strategies disrupt and destabilise the traditionally teacher-led environment of the dance technique class? If HE dance students are given the opportunity to make choices about the content of the class material, does this challenge their expectations about who is responsible for their learning? Does this pedagogical approach destabilise the teacher’s sense of authority? In a quest to shift the hierarchy of the HE dance technique class and encourage undergraduate dance students to develop their critical and reflective thinking skills, this paper will share the findings of two action-research experiments conducted in a level 4 dance technique class.
Context
I am a Lecturer in Dance at Manchester Metropolitan University, based in Cheshire, and for some time now I have been confronting some of my own ghosts by reflecting on the way that I teach dance technique. Probably like most teachers in the early stages of their career, I have tended to teach technique in the way I was taught as a student: devising a series of combinations, demonstrating these to the group standing in front of me and assuming that learners will be able to make sense of the movement that came from my body, within their own bodies. It was not until I enrolled onto a teaching qualification course for HE that I began to think about my methods and their implications more seriously. My questions led me towards research being conducted by other dance academics, who were performing some of their own ghost busting by challenging some of the existing assumptions and traditions around the pedagogy of technique and proposing alternative approaches.
Then, around a year ago I had an experience while teaching an extended phrase to a group of first years. This phrase required the students to explore a range of movement ideas and it concluded with a jump that involved flicking the legs behind the body, and pulling the arms backwards in a slapping action. After demonstrating the jump several times, one student asked me if the arms in fact went forward, over the head in a circular motion, as opposed to back; in stopping to think about the question, I wondered, had I ever demonstrated it in this way? What if I had? Would my students think I was incompetent if I changed it now? My previous demonstrations were coming back to haunt me. It was at this moment that I realised exactly how influential my demonstrations were and just how much this student was relying on me to provide a definitive answer, a ‘right way’ to perform the movement. In resisting the pressure from the student to do this, my response to her was, “you choose”.
Surprising myself with my response, I recognised that my open-ended answer may have just destabilised the secure ground of this technique class, a place where traditionally there are perceived ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’, ‘corrects’ and ‘in-corrects’. The student looked back at me rather puzzled, as she arrived at the realisation that I trusted her to make her own choice.
To further destabilise the already wobbly ground, I suggested that students might want to play with creating their own version of the jump. While most of them did try this, a different student became very anxious about this idea, stating that he did not feel comfortable with this task, as he did not know any other ‘types of jumps’. This student’s resistance towards playing was interesting to me. Had this been a choreography session, I have no doubt that he would have approached the task without hesitation, but since the session fell under the label of ‘technique’, the idea of offering a creative contribution in this context seemed incongruous. Was he afraid of creating the ‘wrong’ jump? Had I, without realising, implied that only certain ‘types of jumps’ were acceptable? Whatever this student’s anxieties were, it became clear that, in this context, he wanted me to provide the material for him, and he was not comfortable to try out ideas on his own.
This situation exemplified many of the questions and concerns that I had been contemplating for some time. Being a lecturer on a programme that promotes an ethos of ‘the thinking dancer’, I started to ask myself; what types of thinking are we expecting our students to engage with? Does the ‘thinking dancer’ imply a level of critical thinking? Reflective thinking? Although the rote method of teacher demonstration, student replication and repetition clearly engages the student in a complex motor learning process, does it simultaneously establish a detrimental hierarchy between the teacher and the student that reinforces the notion that there is only one ‘right’ way?
When debating this issue, Erica Stanton (2011) proposes the idea of a dance technique ‘laboratory’ where students are encouraged to explore their technique work through a process of trial and error; in this space the student leads their learning experience while the teacher adopts a more facilitatory role. Recognising the tension between this approach and other more direct approaches, she states:
In entering this domain, I realise that a delicate balance is in operation: in pursuing learner autonomy, care needs to be taken not to dismiss the effectiveness of observing an expert.
(2011: 87)
Clearly, observing an expert is an integral part of learning dance. But can this method successfully co-exist alongside other more experimental approaches? Tanja Råman poses the central question here, ‘can technical skills be effectively acquired through the use of student-centred learning and teaching approaches?’ (2009: 76)
In exploring this idea, it is important to consider a student’s expectation of what they believe a dance technique class should entail. Those who have a substantial amount of previous dance experience are likely to have different expectations to those with less experience, but most students will have some understanding of the culture of a technique class. Drawing on Bourdieu’s theory of habitus, they are likely to be ‘attuned to the doxa, “the unwritten rules of the game”’ and the ‘underlying practices within that field’ (Bourdieu in Maton: 2008: 57). This is a known world, and disrupting this known world could be unsettling, particularly in the initial transition to university. The technique class is somewhere that new students can be secure in the knowledge that the teacher will tell them what to do, much like a parent perhaps. So, when introducing alternative approaches that challenge and disrupt these beliefs, it is important to be sensitive to the level of change that new first years are experiencing.
Furthermore, in challenging students to confront their own ghosts, technique teachers must be willing to do the same. As I question my own assumptions and expectations, I too tread on wobbly ground as I test the parameters of my authority and try to understand the complexities of my teaching practice.
Developing the option of ‘choice’
Following my initial encounter with choice, I wanted to explore the idea further. With the same students in the spring term of this year, I carried out a series of four action-based experiments; students were asked to engage with tasks that involved movement analysis and creative input. These tasks were very much a process of trial and error and merely a starting point to build upon. Half way through the term, I led a group discussion with four students from the unit in order to gather feedback on their response to the tasks; this paper will share my reflections on only two of these four experiments. I will also be sharing aspects of the feedback gathered from the group discussion using pseudonyms for the students to protect their anonymity.
In this unit, titled Choreographic Perspectives 1, students are assessed on their technical ability, their performance skills and their ability to critically analyse a piece of choreography in a written assignment. The learning outcome and assessment criteria for the dance technique element of this unit states:
Learning outcome:
- Demonstrate knowledge of the principles of dance technique
Assessment Criteria:
- Knowledge of fundamental principles
- Application of knowledge in performance
- Recognition of professional approach
- Reflection on own development
Note that criterion four requires the student to ‘reflect on their own development’ but nowhere does it state that students must demonstrate an ability to interpret technical material exclusively taught by the teacher. This made me question; if students were responsible for creating some of the class material themselves, would it still be possible for them to fulfill the learning outcome and meet the assessment criteria for the unit? Could I attempt to create frameworks within which they could create their own technique material? These ideas led me towards constructivist educational theory and notions of passive and active learning. Bruce Marlowe and Marilyn Page suggest that constructivism is not about ‘the quantity of information a student can memorize and recite’ but rather uncovering, discovering and investigating in the ‘context of a problem, critical question, issue or theme’ (1998: 11). Furthermore, in a constructivist classroom, rarely does the teacher stand and deliver most of the content material; this idea clearly conflicts with the way that I had been previously delivering technique material.
In the first experiment, I taught the group an exercise that focused on the movement, battement tendu. Combined with the footwork, I taught a series of arm movements, known as port de bras.
After several times rehearsing the exercise, I asked the students to work with a partner to create the next thirty-two counts of material. The material had to be thematically linked to the first part of the exercise. In order to assist with this, I provided the following instructions:
- Continue to incorporate battement tendu
- There had to be the introduction of pliés
- There had to be at least one weight shift where only one leg was supporting the weight of the body
I also requested that students choreographed arm movements to accompany the footwork, but there were no instructions for this.
On reflection, the group approached the task with confidence. Working collaboratively with a partner not only seemed to reassure them as they were able to share their ideas, but they were also able to engage in critical conversations about the material and ask each other questions. Although collaborative learning is not exclusively a constructivist learning approach, according to Råman it is based on constructivist learning theories as it aims to facilitate a learner-centred environment in which students can appreciate their peers’ perspectives on a problem. (2009: 78)
The instructions I provided appeared to create clear boundaries around the task and this somehow seemed to liberate the students. Consequently, there were hardly any questions about what types of movements were acceptable. Commenting on this in the group discussion, Ben, a student who had danced since his early teens stated that making material was easier because they were given specific guidelines and not just told to ‘do anything’.
My second experiment focused on the same extended phrase that I referred to at the beginning of this presentation, involving the jump. Working with a partner, I asked the students to engage in some analysis of the phrase by drawing on Laban’s movement analysis system. They were asked to consider action, effort and dynamic. Suggestions from the students included, swinging the legs and arms with a weighted quality like ‘pendulums’, and falling on and off balance playing with suspension and release. Following this, I asked students to work individually to create a short phrase that responded directly to one of the themes they had identified. They had to link their phrase to the end of my phrase, creating a smooth transition between the two. These were my only instructions for the task, so any additional rules had to be created by the students; this was quite a shift from the battement tendu task, which in contrast, had more boundaries. This task required the students to select and edit material accordingly. Marlowe and Page suggest that an analysis task like this encourages learners to ‘think critically…to discriminate between the relevant and the irrelevant…it’s about understanding and applying, not repeating back’. (1998: 11)
On reflection, the level of engagement with this task differed between students depending on many different factors. Danielle, a student who had danced since her early teens and aspired to become a choreographer, stated how she enjoyed the creativity of the task as it allowed her to add her ‘own flavour’ to the movement. She felt that there were just enough instructions to respond to, and anymore would have made it too restrictive.
James, a student who began dancing at the age of sixteen in musical theatre shows stated that he had struggled with this task, as he did not have a big repertoire of movement to draw from. He doubted the quality of his own material and preferred at this level to watch the teacher and learn this way. He wanted to learn new movement from the teacher, not just repeat things he already knew. Furthermore, since he was already out of his comfort zone, the boundaries around both tasks were very important for providing him with some structure; in fact, he found the second task to be too open and wanted more direction.
Ben agreed with James’s point about repeating things he already knew, he stated that it was important not to become complacent. However, Mia, an international student with a background in Brazilian dance disagreed with this point, recognising the importance of continuous practise in dance. We concluded by discussing the reality that there is a level of repetition in all dance technique practice, and in fact, refining technique through repetition can be a positive thing, as long as the dancer is not further ingraining negative movement habits.
To summarise, all four students responded differently to both tasks depending on their individual experience and needs as learners. However, clearly there is a requirement to address the tension between openness and boundaries in more detail, particularly in relation to the second task and this is something that I can give more consideration to as this study develops.
Conclusion
To conclude - did the tasks enable the students to meet the learning outcome and assessment criteria more fully? One key observation that I made involved the students’ awareness; during the sections of my material, they would direct their focus towards me, looking for me to lead them. When it came to performing their own material, they would quickly have to shift their awareness back to their own bodies to remember their movement. Shifting between these two states of awareness was clunky at first and students would often forget what they were doing. But with practise, the transition and blending between the two became more seamless and I observed that they started to rely less on me, becoming increasingly more aware of their own bodies. With reference to the learning outcome and criterion one and two, students not only demonstrated knowledge of the fundamental principles of dance technique within my material, but also within their own material. Aceto suggests that ‘ work often looks best when performed by the original owner of the material, the choreographer’ (2012: 17) and it could be argued that embodied knowledge of this nature actually goes deeper than knowledge that is replicated.
In relation to criterion four, Ben made the following observation:
When you copy the teacher you just do what you’re told. You don’t think of the ideas behind the movement. The creative side makes me think about what I have to do more. It makes me think about the ideas behind the movement.
This statement suggests that the introduction of choice encouraged Ben to reflect on his existing understanding of technical movement principles; it encouraged him to not only question what he was doing, but to go even deeper and consider the how and why. This demonstrates evidence of reflection on his development as a dancer, something that he may have already been doing, but perhaps the choice tasks have helped to make him more aware of this.
Going forward, I will continue to confront my own ghosts by embedding aspects of choice into all of my classes. Although I recognise it’s destabilising effect, I am confident in its ability to shift the hierarchy of my classes and empower my students. In September this year, I will commence a PhD study that will continue to explore these ideas, and these initial experiments will form the basis upon which to develop a more refined model of practice.
References
Aceto, M. (2012) ‘Developing the dance artist in technique class: the alteration task.’ Journal of Dance Education. 12:1, 14 – 20.
Marlowe, B. & Page, M. (1998) Creating and sustaining the constructivist classroom. California: Corwin Press.