Words and dance

Words and dance – cerebral work and harmonious motion – seem to be a priori at two opposite ends of a spectrum. Yet, I have had ample opportunity, in my not so short life, to ponder on the special relationship I have always had with both, and on the interconnection I see in them.

Words and dance – as well as music, painting and sculpture – are means of expression. From time immemorial, words, or rather articulated sounds, have served to express from the simplest physical needs, to more complex feelings and emotions; as they developed into organized languages, and into written signs and symbols, they conveyed progressively abstract notions and intuitions, allowing a clearer formulation of thoughts, and communication between human beings at a deeper level. Using their minds and feelings as an emitting source, and their common vocabulary as tools, people debated, reflected, and confronted their ideas. It is the ability to use these tools that gives words their power or harmony. A literature teacher used to say to us: “Always read aloud what you write.” Like musical notes, words can develop into a symphony, or end up as a dissonant bedlam.

More importantly, words have the power to evoke images within us. When I read the word “cat,” I immediately think of that fluffy animal in terms of its wonderful flexibility, its graceful movements, its lovely, enigmatic face, the softness of its coat, and I feel the joy I have petting it. From an early age, I have been fascinated by the special resonance of some words that seemed to convey a mysterious meaning: words like Baal, Karnak, Moloch, Avalon, Maat, Inanna, Aldebaran, Sirius, Marduk, ancient names of gods, goddesses, planets or places. I would pronounce them aloud, just to experience the magic of their musicality. The sounds – gentle, smooth, flowing, hard, harsh, or screeching – from which words are derived evoke their meanings or qualities. The first written signs that reproduced spoken words also