I always found that, if I could find the rhythm in a dance sequence, I could figure out the combination. That was the key to my unlocking the door to learn dance combinations in class, in rehearsals and in auditions.Rhythm to me is the basis, then I can refine, clarify, clean up the steps, the feeling, the soul-if you will-of what the dance is about. But for me, that was prime. It was primal.
I don’t know where this came from. If it was the fact that I came from a long line of musicians, (two drummers for brothers for starters) or that my earliest, life changing dance training was in tap dance lessons. Or maybe it was growing up in Detroit and listening to the sounds of the Funk Brothers—the session musicians responsible for the majority of Motown’s #1 hits—who had a killer, “wall of sound” rhythm section. Whatever the reason, that was my point of reference for learning the steps I needed to know. My modus operandi if you will: Rhythm.
I can say that, for me this translates into my writing. Writing is almost like a dance—a dance with words. There is definitely movement in words. A story needs to keep moving to take the reader along. Certainly it is true of poetry—of which I’ve dabbled in some. But, I know the rhythm has to feel right to interest the reader, to keep the reader’s eye and ears engaged just like a well choreographed dance work keeps the audience engaged.