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Twirling into Tabletops: Dance Students Feel Limited in the Pandemic

Ryerson dance students feel that practicing in make-shift home studios makes improving in dance class a challenge

By, Anna Wdowczyk

Karly Benson (left) uses her home railing as a dance bar, while Kathleen Pick (right) finds just enough practice space in her basement . (Courtesy of Benson and Pick) 

Karly Benson (left) uses her home railing as a dance bar, while Kathleen Pick (right) finds just enough practice space in her basement . (Courtesy of Benson and Pick) 

Despite tighter spaces and the lack of physical instruction, Ryerson dance students and professors alike are doing everything they can to make meaningful progress in a virtual setting.

Ever since Ryerson shifted to a remote learning model amid the COVID-19 pandemic, the dance program has been delivered online. Although this new way of learning prioritizes the health of every dancer, students say it’s difficult to establish a strong connection to their practice in cramped apartments without any physical guidance. 

These dancers who used to visit studios as much as they desired are stuck learning to maintain their capabilities with only one daily class at ‘Zoom University.’

Karly Benson, a third-year Ryerson dance student who often practices in her kitchen, finds herself moving chairs and tables around just to create a decent amount of room. 

“At Ryerson, we’re trained to be expansive dancers and full-out dancers. It’s really difficult when you’re in a small space,” she said. “We feed off of the energy of the room and if you’re confused or you don’t know the exercise, you can kind of glance over at your friend. But when you’re alone, it can definitely feel a bit isolating.”

Poor internet service and adjusting to Zoom can also be problematic, according to Benson. When Zoom calls lag, the music is delayed which makes it look as though dancers aren’t moving to the right beat. Benson added that remote lessons can feel like being instructed by a mirrored image—you have to go the opposite direction your instincts want to go at first glance. 

Receiving critiques from instructors who can’t show what they mean in person is another area of concern. “There’s definitely a bit of disconnection between you and your space and the teacher. They can explain [a correction] to you with words as much as possible, but sometimes you need that physical contact,” Benson said.

‘How can I do this at all?’

Kathleen Pick graduated from Ryerson’s dance program last June, yet she still recalls making the hectic transition to an online learning environment. She said virtual classes “were really great” at first. However, student motivation dropped as dancers began to realize the pandemic would last longer than anticipated.

Kathleen Pick keeps up with her dance regime amid lockdown by making use of the space in her basement (Courtesy of Kathleen Pick).

“You have artistic liberty in everything you do…you can take your moment to be individualistic and artistic with your movement,” Pick said. “Just trying to figure out how to dance in your basement or your bedroom, or wherever you happen to have even close to enough space…your first thought is not ‘How can I make this look good?’” 

Instead, she said the majority of students’ main thought “is ‘Okay, how can I do this at all? And how can I feel good doing it?’

Though Pick was lucky enough to have a basement her parents transformed into a mock studio back when she was in high school, she still doesn’t have anything close to an ideal dance zone even with all the extra space. To stay in shape in case any new opportunities come around, Pick said she’s shifted her focus to personal fitness.

Although she praised her instructors for finding a quick solution when the campus closure was abruptly announced in March 2020, Pick said she felt as if there weren’t many opportunities for connecting with potential employers.

Louis Laberge-Côté, an assistant dance professor at Ryerson, admits he agrees with the dominant student perspective towards remote dance classes. 

“Online dance training is inevitably a compromise compared to the in-studio education we usually provide. Dance is highly experiential by nature,” he said in a written statement to CanCulture. “There is a substantial amount of artistic and sensory knowledge that can’t be adequately transferred without a shared, direct human experience.” 

 This often means that dance students can’t pick up on non-verbal cues from their peers when working remotely.

To avoid injuries when coping with smaller spaces, Laberge-Côté said he tries to teach sequences that don’t require a lot of travelling. When it comes to jumping, he limits things “to the bare minimum—just enough to remain in shape,” because home floors aren’t sprung, providing a potentially unsafe platform.

Laberge-Côté also attempts to keep dancers engaged with vocal exercises “to externalize inner sensations as the students execute specific movements.” He said these unconventional practices help by “bringing more life and excitement to the class.”

Looking ahead

Judy Luo, another recent graduate from Ryerson’s dance program, is now employed in the United Kingdom where she dances for a company called Rombert2. Although she was upset by “the lack of closure” to her university career, Luo said she’s “really lucky to have work right now.”

“Our whole field of study is about being in person, about human connection. It’s about sharing, so when you take away the actual physical aspect…it really makes you question what you’re doing and what the art form is,” she added. 

Despite the hardships, Ryerson dance professors still managed to provide detailed feedback in a virtual setting, according to Luo.

“The feedback is really helpful because sometimes what you think you’re doing versus what you’re actually doing are not in line,” she said.

In her newest position, Luo meets with small groups of company members in a studio where they practice together while wearing masks. The masks make it harder to convey emotions during a routine, but Luo said she’s happy she finally gets to unite with fellow performers face-to-face.

One bright side of dancing in the pandemic is that learning how to get by actually builds mental toughness, according to Amelia Brown, a first-year student at the School of Toronto Dance Theatre.

Brown said she’s using this downtime at home to connect with dancers around the world via social media. Along with a friend, she manages an Instagram account where fellow dancers can workshop their thoughts and share experiences.

Though in between home practices and making new friends online, Brown still admits she yearns for a post-pandemic dance experience. 

“[Dancing in person] is like a cycle of energy and you just really feed off each other,” she said. “That also helps to elevate your technique and your performance, so going back and actually meeting my classmates for the first time and getting to actually experience that with them—it’s gonna be so amazing.”