Today some of us watched Kazuo Ohno’s “Admiring La Argentina”. We first watched the piece without music and then with. I noticed a major change in my experience as an audience between the two viewings. Watching the dance without music I had more difficult time focusing on the performance. I also think this has something to do with the fact that it wasn’t live and I was distracted by other things going on around me. Additionally, I found it harder “understanding”/ interpreting or rather feelingthe dance.
Sound aids in creating an atmosphere. Burrows explains how the atmosphere created by sound/music can give the performance greater meaning because it aids in carrying us through the emotional landscape. Music in for example theatre and dance sets the mood and is often, but not always, in line with our emotions.In Ondrej’s class I am also realizing music’s guiding function in dance movements. When closing my eyes I think my other senses are enhanced and it becomes easier to move to the rhythm of the music. But sound and movement doesn’t always go together.
I don’t know how to classify the music playing in “Admiring La Argentina” – it had a rapid pace and did not always align with slow movements of Kazuo Ohno; he would not always follow the tempo.
Also another peculiar thing to me was how he would continue dancing when the music stopped for a few seconds, being unaffected by the change. Other times would be paused or barely moving when the rhythm of the music would seem to “cue” a movement. It looked like he both worked with and against the music. This was confusing and different to me and hence it intrigued me. It It reminds me of what Trajal alluded to today; a performance can become more than its sum of its parts (than the experience of watching and listening separately).

Burrows writes that one should consider the relative weight of that is being seen versus what is heard. He points out that loud music outweighs small movements. Not only is rhythm important – but volume. We know that our hearing is stronger than our visual perception.
Tori in her performance today used the sound of her heals, and because it was the only sound it made it powerful and I became more alert.

And what about the “sound of silence”? Silence also has an effect, sometimes an uncomfortable one on the audience. But contrary to what I presumed prior to this course, performance art does not always have to feel like a good experience for it to be a good experience. On that note I want to paraphrase a quote from Burrow’s book saying that it’s not always the optimal for sound and movement to go together and become one – “sometimes friction is more interesting than polite agreement”.
Postmodern dance with it’s unconventionalism and minimalism challenges the assumption that music is integral to dance performance. Trisha Brown for example values movement for the movement’s sake – Music is not a prerequistite for rhythmic movement. Also music often aids a story line, a beginning and an end to a performance – but postmodern choreography abandoned the idea of a story.

The topic of the role of music in dance made me pose a chicken or egg causality dilemma. Did music or dance come first? Of course it firstly ought to be defined what music and dance. This is merely an interesting question that led to a new thought; could it be said that dancers are music makers and hence hence is music?
Overwall, I think dance enhances the emotional experience of performance art but also silence can be powerful and does not mean “neutrality”.