Background: the first draft of my 21M.030 (Intro to World Music) paper #1 from freshman year of college, focusing on our personal “soundscape” and how music has influenced our lives
The Fusion of Music and Dance
(c) October 2008 to Vivian Lee
Amidst the rolling clouds of fog and mystical blue wash, I poise my fingers in perfect imitation of a butterfly, frozen in wait for the swell of music that would signal the beginning to our flight of fancy. The new-age piece, accented with fanciful bamboo flute trills, begins emanating from all around, drawing our viewers deep into a mythical forest veiled by curtains of crystalline rain. The music holds us firmly in its grasp, urging our movements and transforming each one of us into a physical medium for the expression of its melancholy emotions. This seamless fusion of music and dance, simple as it may seem, is actually comprised of an intricate loop: the appreciation of music enables me to fully interpret the styles of the dance and enhance my precise movements, while the power of dance broadens my understanding of the euphony, spurring my dedication towards the artform. It is this neverending cycle of deeper comprehension that allows me to continually discover new and profound aspects of music to augment my lifestyle.
My journey into the elusive realm of musical interpretation began not with my first official ballet and tap lessons at age five, nor the fateful day I enrolled at my Chinese dance studio of 10 years, but with the introduction I received to many exotic-sounding musical works when I was a mere infant. Some of the earliest memories I posess involve my mother popping a cassette into our old, clunky tape player and signing along to the old Cantopop tunes as I stumbled along to the rhythm. By the time I was 14 months old, I had already begun singing popular Chinese soap opera themes, waving my arms in dramatic imitation of the rise and fall of the music’s intensity.
At age four, I happened to acquire a VHS tape of one of China’s young singers, Timi Zhuo. Filled with 35 individual performances of the then-eight-year-old prodigy, the tape soon became my prized posession. I developed a habit of watching said tape daily, singing and dancing along. I developed a habit of watching said tape daily, singing and dancing along. Timi often used props in her performances, such as a hand drum, fan, or silk handkerchief, and though I possessed none of those items, I simply made do with my household materials. A pencil struck against a toy pot became a hand drum; a fan could be fashioned out of paper; the fabric from my broken cloth umbrella became an elegant scarf. In this matter, my imagination took flight, and each day I too held my plastic microphone high and sung out tunes that soon embedded themselves in my mind for years to come. This period in my life introduced me to the stage and the possibilities that came with the performing arts, making me hopelessly addicted to the prospect of standing under the spotlight and singing for hundreds to hear. Strangely, I understood not a word that Timi sang; her Taiwanese lyrics meant nothing to me, and yet amazingly my young mind was still able to see past this language barrier. The movements of her wrists, the emotions etched into her face, and the varying nuances she slipped into her words made all the difference; they expressed, in Timi’s own style, her personal interpretation of the age-old folk songs.
Via this musical escapade, I was therefore introduced to the brilliant world of dance. From the first day my nine-year-old self attended lessons at the Love of China School of Chinese Dance onwards, I was completely taken by this artform that astonished me with its vibrancy, passion, and beauty. As one of the most resplendent dance forms I have experienced, Chinese dance has helped to open my mind to newer styles of music. Within Chinese dance itself, for example, we are taught many routines that span every tribe and subculture possible, from the catchy style of the Tambourine Dance inspired by a northwestern minority group, to the romantic anecdote of the Love Story of the Carriage Driver, to the downbeat yet elegant grace of the Han-inspired Feather Fan Dance, to the new-age style of Bamboo Rain, a popular dance that transforms us into umbrella-wielding pixies of the rainforest.
Though I had always enjoyed the various tunes that accompanied our dances, I did not start feeling a complex connection to the fusion of music and dance until after I finally realized that my teacher’s shouts of “Listen to the music!” referred not to the physical opening of our ears nor the intense concentration need for counting out the beats. Rather, she had been asking each of us to feel the emotions woven into the spectrum of sound and to use our bodies as a channel for those tunes. We were encouraged, beyond the basic uniform technique, to pour a bit of our own emotions into every step or gesture that we made. In order to fully express the sentiments of the piece, we were thus required to immerse ourselves in our rich culture to come up with personal interpretations, forced to truly listen and decipher exactly what the unique intrumentations tried to utter. In that practice lies the power of dance as an art form: to induce inner reflection and in turn convert it to outer expression. As a dancer, I thus inherently become an entertainer, philosopher, storyteller, interpreter, and artist all at once, expressing intense feelings that words cannot.
With the additions of our individual ornaments, each dance becomes much more than just an aesthetic, rhythmic formation of fancily costumed girls. Instead, our dances speak to the audience with appropriately yet subtly added sly smiles, sorrowful anguish, and passionate flourishes. They whisper of unrequited love; they laugh in telling of the children who stayed to play in the rain; they paint a picture of a cloudless sky illuminated by the full moon and the women who sat under it to sew; they punctuate the air with the ferocity and power of martial artists heading off to war; they haunt the audience with ghostly silhouettes reminiscent of our troubled ancestors. The music speaks to us, and we in turn interpret it so that it can speak to others. It is almost as if we dancers are blessed with the ability to morph into a physical model of the music in order to explain its beauty to those who are unable to understand the unspoken story. Through a brilliant combination of mime and rhythmic dramatic acting, the song thus comes alive.
Nowadays, inspired by my love for my native Chinese music, I am inspired to branch out into music of various other languages and genres. However, in order to understand the sentiments that the singer hopes to express, be it native or foreign language, one needs to open his mind and ear to the hidden nuances in the cluster of rich instrumental sounds.Had it not been for my experience with dance, I would have not been gifted with the ability to listen beyond the words and fully appreciate the music. For example, through dance I have been able to use my gestures as an amplification of these subtle embellishments. By transferring the emotions in the music into a physical form, I can then analyze and shape them as I wish to visualize the underlying meaning in any piece of music. Through continual practice in this way, I feel as if every time I listen to a foreign piece, I am able to experience an even deeper level of the music than if I were merely listening to an English piece with lyrics I could easily understand. Perhaps, then, that is why I enjoy world music so much: I desire to experience this multilayered feast for the ears and heart as often as possible.
I would have never been able to enjoy to such rich, personally enhanced music had it not been for the seamless fusion between music and dance. Music introduced me to dance at a young age, and in return dance led me to an intensely involved method of listening to music. Likewise, through discovery of this aforementioned interpretive skill, I continue to explore every gradient of the musical spectrum as I employ them as inspiration for any daily activity of mine. Music – though I may not understand any of the lyrics – holds extreme prominence in my heart as a tool that provides encouragement, consolance, and inspiration. As such, one could almost say that music dictates my life, and vice versa; my exposure to foreign music and dance has allowed me to not only grow as a person by promoting my awareness of cultural variety, but it has also opened up doors to many a gorgeous art form. Music and dance have since formed an inseparable part of my daily life; every time I hear a familiar song, be it a ballad or hiphop piece, I feel the incessant need to sing and dance along in freeform glory, using my slender arms and pointed toes to trace a gorgeous representation of what the music means to me. Even as I sit here, a Swedish dance track plays in the background, and subconsciously my hands gesture in rhythm to match the the powerful strains of the female singer’s voice. Whenever I feel the need for inspiration, I just need to improvise a routine to match the beautiful strains of music as they speak of bold desire, tender love, or melancholic sorrow. As I pour all of my sorrows, excitement, and anger into the physical manipulation of my thin arms and pulsing body, the fusion of music and dance in my world becomes my refuge from the troubles of life. It is a most treasured experience, nurtured from a young age and molded into a new form of expression that enables the music to speak… a soulful voice that far surpasses the power that mere words possess.