I wish to outline and explain my vision on this widely discussed topic. I believe that it is not necessary to find a ‘one size fits all’ solution for every situation, but it may be useful to focus attention on some key aspects. Freedom of expression and creativity are fundamental values in both dance and music; however, we must exercise caution. While one dancer may find it difficult to influence the entire group, the sound that pervades the space has the potential power to do so.
I also hope that these thoughts can be beneficial to musicians intending to approach CI. A few years ago, during the same jam, I found myself alternating the roles of musician and dancer multiple times. On that occasion, I realized a concept I have previously elaborated: the initial impulse to improvise, regardless of the type of expression, is always the same.
Observing accomplished improvisational musicians, we notice how physically active they are, maintaining a state of relaxed tension (like dancers) due to their senses being always awake. Their engagement stems from the concentrated activity of the nervous system, which physiologically influences every part of their body. The musician who improvises during CI should be physically engaged, actively observing the movements and, thanks to mirror neurons, experiencing sensations similar to those of the dancers. Not infrequently, we see musicians moving within the jam space, sometimes even joining in the dancing.
The musician’s gaze must often remain on the dancers, sacrificing the opportunity to look at their own instrument, of which they should have a solid mastery. For obvious reasons, the dancer cannot look at the instrument but connects through auditory listening.
Dancers and musicians improvising are, therefore, at a primary level of intention, in the same state. Collaboration requires resonance, essential for true connection, and a common goal. Given that we are in a CI jam, this objective is obviously linked to dance and not to music, which serves as an additional element that enriches the experience. The typical dynamic of people dancing to music is certainly out of place here, but are we sure that, even if to a lesser and less conscious degree, this doesn’t happen? If energy rises and falls based on music we should ask ourselves this question.
What happens when numerous dancers share the same space? I believe that when multiple people engage in the same space with willingness, openness, and common goals, the resonant essences create an atmosphere of unity with which the musician can relate. The musician can contribute, without imposing himself, to the creation of group unity or concentrate at different times on one or more dancers. If his goal is to support the group, his sensitivity will guide him in the best possible way. Perception takes on a crucial role, on par with that of the dancers.
Music occupies space. It carries an energetic, often shared, feeling. In many situations, we feel the air seems saturated and incapable of containing further sounds. The notes can become confused and less distinct, creating a sense of chaos, and we may feel the need for silence.
Unlike a body, music expands throughout the room, giving it considerable filling power. Music and dance should share the same space without completely filling it, which is essential for freedom of movement and new possibilities.
What I describe here pertains not to the temporal level or the interplay between music and silence, but rather to density and presence.
Too many sounds can alter auditory perception, preventing it from registering more subtle stimuli (remember the fly and the stones?) and predispose it to only hear louder sounds, which will inevitably pollute the space and the dancers’ sensitivity. An interesting image could be of bodies finding space between the notes to move and dance.
A large chapter deals with the type or genre of music. I am reminded of what Nancy Stark Smith said: “Rhythm alters our relationship with gravity.” This is true; rhythm gives us a cadence that pulls us into its dynamics, making us lose perception of our bodies and our relationship with our partners and gravity. While rhythm supports us, it can also create uniformity and repetition, the antithesis of improvisation, ultimately taking away a certain freedom. We can interpret rhythm, of course, but we can never completely ignore it in favor of following our internal feelings. Rhythm and melody draw on our past experiences, shaped by years of listening to music.
They move us, and we recognize a supportive energy in this, yet they can also distance us from the present moment. They are too familiar to be ignored, powerful in evoking a well-defined energy, making us feel good and comfortable, offering a sensation of pleasure, a comfort zone that does not belong to CI.
If you observe improvisational music again, you will notice its unpredictability, mirroring what Contact Improvisation should be. It is interesting to note what occurs in jams when more classical music, with structured rhythm and melody, is played.
Great energy is felt when the sound is present, followed by a collapse when the piece ends. When the influx of stimuli subsides, it becomes clear that the energy was created almost exclusively by an external source. Music should not compel people to dance, nor should it emotionally capture them.
Too many sounds can alter auditory perception, preventing it from registering more subtle stimuli (remember the fly and the stones?) and predispose it to only hear louder sounds, which will inevitably pollute the space and the dancers’ sensitivity. An interesting image could be of bodies finding space between the notes to move and dance.
A large chapter deals with the type or genre of music. I am reminded of what Nancy Stark Smith said: “Rhythm alters our relationship with gravity.” This is true; rhythm gives us a cadence that pulls us into its dynamics, making us lose perception of our bodies and our relationship with our partners and gravity. While rhythm supports us, it can also create uniformity and repetition, the antithesis of improvisation, ultimately taking away a certain freedom. We can interpret rhythm, of course, but we can never completely ignore it in favor of following our internal feelings. Rhythm and melody draw on our past experiences, shaped by years of listening to music.
They move us, and we recognize a supportive energy in this, yet they can also distance us from the present moment. They are too familiar to be ignored, powerful in evoking a well-defined energy, making us feel good and comfortable, offering a sensation of pleasure, a comfort zone that does not belong to CI.
If you observe improvisational music again, you will notice its unpredictability, mirroring what Contact Improvisation should be. It is interesting to note what occurs in jams when more classical music, with structured rhythm and melody, is played.
Great energy is felt when the sound is present, followed by a collapse when the piece ends. When the influx of stimuli subsides, it becomes clear that the energy was created almost exclusively by an external source. Music should not compel people to dance, nor should it emotionally capture them.
In my view, there should neither be a beginning nor an end to the music, but rather an ever-present essence that may sometimes be more intense, sometimes less so, and at times enveloped in silence. Silence as a quality of sound.
Attending Silent Jams (without music) frequently is valuable training, especially for beginners, to avoid becoming overly accustomed to the comforting support provided by music.
From what has been said so far, it is evident that the loop system (pattern), which is widely used, represents a negation of improvisation, embodying predictability and filler. We aim for a creative, non-repetitive process.
The risk of over-influencing the dancers is greater when there are multiple musicians, who naturally prefer not to sit idle. Listening to each other and understanding their impact on the group environment is not easy; it requires a panoramic view and attentive listening.
One thing that can help is recognizing that time and the relationship between silence and sound are perceived differently by musicians and dancers. A pianist, for example, might feel bored playing a note every ten seconds, which, however, does not disturb the dancer, who fills that void with movement. This discomfort can easily lead the musician to overplay, taking away space for the dance. The solution, which also alleviates boredom, lies in connecting with whomever is in the jam, resonating with them and their perception, vibrating with their body, and finding meaning even in silence.
I believe it is a significant art of sensitivity to play for moving bodies. Creating a world of stimuli from which dancers can freely draw inspiration, other possibilities, represents a wonderful gift that musicians can offer to the space.
Sounds are like other bodies dancing.
Contact does not need music, just as a musician does not need Contact; perhaps this is why an enriching connection can develop for both.
For me, the best jams are those where I don’t remember the type of music played, but I know for certain that it was present. I no longer recognize it for what it is, but for how it brought richness to space.
The role of music in dance has changed considerably compared to its origins, where it was often absent or expressed through acoustic instruments played in a minimal and experimental way. Rather than discussing ‘music,’ a term that encompasses too many definitions and patterns, we should talk about “sounds”, elements that are more interpretable and adaptable to different perceptions.
Interaction with sound is challenging to codify; it is the art of managing atmospheres, a skill that undoubtedly requires supreme sensitivity.
I would like to point out an interesting piece of writing that is useful for musicians and can complement my thoughts. It provides specific advice on playing music at jams:
https://contactimprovblog.com/can-you-give-me-some-guidelinessuggestions-for-playing-music-at-jams/
Live music is always preferable, but if you wish to use recorded music, I recommend tracks that are not too short (to avoid an energy drop at the end of the song) and, as mentioned, not too rhythmically and harmonically defined.
I have recorded several hours with this type of setting, and you can find them here:
Music for Contact Improvisation
Also available on YouTube