Groove strongly influences me (as a mother, a dancer, and a choreographer); it gives me a sense of home, of belonging. It allows me to connect to myself, with my roots, my movement, and to stay flexible. I began my research on groove by relating to music theory, my personal experience, by reflecting on the work of Christos Papadopoulos, and interviewing other artists. I identified 5 key elements that I use as tools toward connecting to groove. What has emerged from the work is movement signature in the performers, fostering their voice through the making and performing of the work.
I must define the word groove and how I apply it in my practice. Groove is the first ingredient to movement. It is very vulnerable and can either shy away or shine through. I refer to the “spark” a dancer has when they are fully connected to what they do. More precisely, I mean connected to their craft, to their bodies, to the space they are in, and how this allows for communication that is greater than our humanity. Groove then facilitates a level of connection that goes beyond time and our physical presence. Niel Theise, who writes on complexity theory, suggests that each cell traces back to the cell before it, to an earlier version of ourselves. From a newborn to a fetus to an embryo, there is no separation. The eggs and sperm that make the embryo are in our father’s and mother’s bodies. The egg in the mother was part of her mother’s body, and so on. We can therefore trace our cells back to Homo Habilis and even further to earlier mammals and earlier amphibians. (Theise, 2023, p. 50-51) In one sentence: groove is a feeling that connects us to the space we occupy. It leaves us with a sense of belonging, wherever we might find ourselves.
You can follow the threads leading to the different aspects of my research on groove, or click on the words to the right to get to the sections. You can always return to this page by clicking the “back” button. When you are done, you can continue to ballet.
Yielding into the floor to gather energy from the ground and project it out into space results in a pull from the floor, through the body and out into space. In her chapter on gravity, Ann Cooper Albright (2019) describes how signature patterns of movement and muscular dynamics in humans are predetermined by how babies connect with the basic forces of gravity. Being held, or not, informs how a child later physically responds to the world. Children who have not been held and potentially neglected need to learn how to release their weight into gravity. “Yielding into the earth is actually the pre-condition for pushing away from it.” (p. 110-111) Yielding to push away from the floor, to stand tall. I connect the practice of releasing into gravity to finding a groove and movement signature in dancing.
The task in this study is to release into the floor to push away, allowing the legs to slide apart, pulling them together again. The feet should remain in contact with the floor as much as possible to create resistance with the floor. Reaching the spine and arms out into space helps counter gravity. The spine and arms are responding and are the expression of the work happening in the lower body and the floor. Here, I find that the density of the movement is directly related to the dedication of the performer to accomplish the task of keeping the feet in contact with the floor. In other words, the friction between the soles of the feet and the floor informs the density of the action. Observing Jonas performing this task, I saw that there was less friction between his feet and the floor, creating a much more fluid movement quality. In my iteration of the task, a struggle appears, and I see my body compensating by working on the articulation of the hips. Where does the energy gathered go? And what outlet does it need? I see the energy going into the expression of the torso, as if it was gathered from the floor, from the earth, and fed the spine and arms to create a radiating presence.
Suspension helps me find surprise in groove, finding new pathways. Generating unexpected results from a swing motion. Groove has an inherent quality of swing; in fact, the term “swing” is occasionally used to refer to the groove. That is because it is associated with the swing rhythm in jazz (Roholt, 2014, p.18). Roholt (2014) gives us a nice example of what swing rhythm might sound and feel like in this passage from his book.
“For readers who do not read music and are not familiar with the swing rhythm, you may be able to imagine a swing by […] imagining a certain series of long (“ba”) and short (“bup”) notes: ba, bup, ba-ba, bup, ba-ba, bup, ba-ba…” (p.18)
I attempted to translate the suspension of the swing rhythm into movement generated from a swinging motion. It is up to the performer to decide what body part they want to swing, although I recommend beginning with arm swings. The swing should have a weighted quality, allowing the suspension to redirect the movement to somewhere (maybe) unexpected as a result. What elements of surprise do you identify in this study?
I surprisingly found that the swing in my body provoked a sense of joy and released tension in my muscles and joints. Over time, the direction after a suspension was surprising, which made it all the more enjoyable to keep going. The performer has to allow the suspension to be, in time and space, before descending and re-directing. Suggesting a way of letting go of expectations and patterns, offering a sense of effortlessness. The degree of risk taken after the suspension dictates the virtuosity of the movement and is directly linked to the ability to let go.
Albright (2019) discusses finding balance through falling and suggests an exercise to connect to the vestibular system, focusing on the micro movement of “the meeting of the atlas, the first cervical vertebrae, and the bottom of the occipital bone at the back of the skull”. (Albright, 2019, p.23) I have found that this small, smooth movement has the potential to contaminate the whole body. Albright (2019) describes this as the “small dance of the skull on top of the spine” (p.23). There is a sense of musicality that emerges when observed without music. It is enjoyable, it is nothing, and it is everything. I found in this study a movement, head nodding, that can be layered upon to create more complex sequences, and that is always present with varying amplitudes. I encourage the dancers to connect to it whenever possible as a reminder to stay connected.
Repetition is a characteristic of groove. Roholt (2014) explains groove as being the rhythm being repeated with small shifts, small irregularities. When moving to the rhythm, we develop an expectation produced by the repetition. Small changes in the repetition are experienced as feelings of pushes and pulls. These tensions, the pull and push, are experienced “by the body as a bodily disequilibrium” (Roholt, 2014, p.111). After experiencing a beat over a certain time, allowing for repetition to allow us to find equilibrium, we get accustomed to the disjointed feel and find what Roholt (2014) calls “the buoyancy of a groove” (pp. 111-113). Eventually, there is a guidance that occurs as if the body were guided by the groove, this is “the felt support that comes from finding equilibrium in repetition” (p.112).
The task is to repeat a gesture to the rhythm of the music for 5 minutes. The music defines the rhythm, but the performer is free to relate to it how they want. For this study, I chose the gesture of pulsing both hands, mimicking a beating heart. The choice of the gesture is linked to the pulsing sensation of groove. The task is then to always look in opposition to the hands. At first, the coordination of the task creates tension within the performer. The focus doesn't always go away from the hands, and sometimes ends up coordinating with the gesture. As time passes and the task is repeated, the gesture becomes irrelevant, and the movement signature of the performer appears and shines through. The task is perceived as enjoyable, almost trance-like. As a performer, once the feeling of being carried by the repetition is established, other details of the gesture come to the foreground, for example, the articulation of the legs or the sequential delay of the spine.
The 5 key elements inform my physical approach to groove; they can be practiced on their own, but mostly interplay through the practice, interconnecting and relating to each other, similarly to the way roots are interwoven. Pulling them apart to experience each in their own right helps identify what elements take the forefront to cultivate the groove.
Following the line of the elements, you can go through each element with video material and the accompanying text.
I shared my practice with Jonas Frey, a contemporary dancer and choreographer with movement roots in street and club styles, more precisely, breaking. It was important for me to investigate how another performer would find movement signature through the tasks proposed. We went to the studio and explored one after the other, reflecting and identifying our common and differing experiences.
a warm feeling
evolves into other movements
delicate, almost intimate
something repetitive, something rhythmical
the connection to your soul, it’s spiritual
the urge of moving to the music
collecting
every groove is a treasure
pulsing like blood pumping through the veins
the connection between my body and the music
a pendulum
impulse
happy
excited
calm
sponge
lungs
drive
an elastic beat
strong and stable but also flexible
the emotional envelop of the rhythm
connected to everything we do
My interest in groove stems from my dancing, it has been implicit in my relationship with music and movement since I can remember. The first time I became aware of it, and a name was given to the “feeling of joy” I experience while moving to music, is very clear to me. My partner at the time, a jazz percussionist, told me after watching one of my performances that he was fascinated by the groove in my dancing. I remember asking him what he meant, and he said something along the lines of “When you are dancing with others, your movement still looks uniquely yours.” From then on, I knew the term I could give to the feeling that I look for when dancing and making dances.
Once I began choreographing for others, I found that I wasn’t always successful at transmitting the expression of joy and groove I embodied. I began to question if the feeling of joy, the spark, had been partly dimmed by extensive dance training. Or was it simply cultural? I grew up in the Caribbean. Did I embody groove through my musical environment? What I call groove is not what a hip-hop dancer would call groove, so what is it? For me, groove is the first ingredient to movement. It is very vulnerable and can either shy away or shine through.
When using groove, I am referring to groove in music and how I have taken aspects to further identify groove within my practice. Similarly to how I see groove as a driving force, it has been driving my research and has stayed consistent even when I focused on other aspects. Tiger C. Roholt, a philosopher writing about meaningfulness, technology, art and music, defines two aspects of groove: the music, as in the play with rhythm that a musician does to create groove, and the felt dimension, as in the feeling the groove gives of push, pull, leaning forward or being laid back (Roholt, 2014, p.1-3). As a musical quality, groove is often called “the feel of a rhythm, where a rhythm is one or another pattern a drummer or other musicians might play” (Roholt, 2014, p.9). Taking Roholt’s definition of groove related to rhythm and music into consideration, I sense that groove is very subjective, although surely linked by a common experience. Roholt (2014) goes on to write “[t]his—'feel of a rhythm'—is the dominant meaning of groove in music, and it points in the right direction, even though it is quite vague” (2014, p.9). With the 5 key elements that I have identified, I aim to exercise the feeling of the rhythm to grow towards finding the movement signature of the dancers within my dances: finding the notch, push-pull, yielding, repetition, and suspension. I see that repetition envelops the whole. There is a need for repetition to create a rhythm and therefore a groove. Through repetition, one can find the notch or find a track that can be followed. It is also described as the pocket: when the performer is being carried by repetition, allowing them to focus on other aspects of their movement and expression. And as the performer is carried forward by the path created by repetition, they are pushed and pulled by elements of surprise like falling after a suspension, or yielding into the floor or the music.
In the introduction of his book Groove: A Phenomenology of Rhythmic Nuance Roholt (2024) gives a very embodied description of groove.
It’s winter. A heavy snow has fallen. The plows have yet to clear the street on which you’re driving but the snow has been packed down by the early morning traffic. As you change lanes you slide just a bit, then you feel your tires settle into the grooves made by the tires of other cars. You have some sense of the firmness and path of these grooves - less by actually seeing them, more through your body. You perceive or grasp, these grooves both in your hands, through the resistance of the steering wheel, and in your body, as you feel the car being pulled, pushed, and carried along. (Roholt, 2014, p.1)
If you can drive and have driven in freshly fallen snow before, this description is very accurate to the feeling of groove as a motion that leads the body. Inspired by Albright's (2019) excercise "Yes/No/Maybe" (p.23), and looking for the first impulse of groove, I have created a score that I invite you to listen to as you begin your journey to finding groove. Click here to listen to the score.
Groove is something I feel; the way I can describe it is as a force that keeps us going, giving us drive. One way of describing groove is the Groove Tree poem I have written with words from interviews led with dancers, choreographers, photographers and musicians.
Where the branches emerge from the trunk and leaves start to become visible is where I place movement signature in my tree. It is the result of the hard work of the roots and the trunk. In a tree, the branches and the leaves can grow thanks to the work happening under the surface and in the trunk. The concept of movement signature emerged from my work with groove. Movement signature, as defined by a group of French and Australian researchers, identifies that “[e]ach individual is unique, with distinctive patterns or characteristics by which he/she can be identified, leading to the notion of a personal signature” (Hug et al., 2019). A way to measure and identify movement patterns in men and women was found by attaching electrodes to 8 muscles in the participants’ legs while they walked and pedalled. This notion is exciting to me and relates to the spark in a dancer that I relate to groove. I use movement signature to identify what happens when the basic elements of groove are present and carry the performer toward their individual performative expression.
I propose that you watch an excerpt of Julia and Cecilia’s solos in Lost Threads. The score of Julia’s solo is based on a memory that I recalled through a poem, while Cecilia’s solo is a score where she negotiates expectations from herself and society.
I am deeply inspired by Greek choreographer Christos Papadopoulos! In February 2024, I had the pleasure of seeing Mellowing created for Dance On Ensemble, a Berlin-based dance company for dancers 40 and above. Papadopoulos explores repetition in his choreographic works, transforming movement into a state of being. He works with unison while drawing out individuality in the dancers by allowing for interpretation of movement. The entire piece is based on simple steps repeated and travelling through space. The repetition creates a groove that is visible in micro gestures from the dancers, their individual approach comes to the foreground. The dancers appear one by one, meeting and composing the space, creating encounters, relationships, and stories. As an audience member, I was taken into a trans, intently following the slow development of the stories unfolding before my eyes. I was drawn to the individuality of each performer and couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. There was a crescendo when all 11 dancers were on stage, in one space, the movement increased in amplitude and intensity… then a bright flash of light and black out! I was ready to experience the next stage, but it was over, leaving me wanting more and fascinated by the craft of building an entire piece on one step while communicating so much to the audience.
In a 2021 interview, Papadopoulos speaks about repetition and how he uses it to create a specific vibration that the performers are free to improvise with. For Papadopoulos, repetition is not pure repetition but about finding the core of the performer, finding their own character or stage personality. (ONE Foundation for Culture and Arts, 2021, minute 2:53 - 3:45) I connect deeply to creating a vibration. In my own words I would describe vibration as the deep self-connection and connection to others and the space achieved through working with groove, in particular repetition, but also with push-pull, yielding, suspension and finding the notch. It is invisible and subtle, with the potential to transmit beyond the use of words; it also fosters commitment to the present moment, which allows the seed of a moment (the choreography) to grow beyond its physical limits. Through this way of working, I perceive a sense of trust in the performers, in the process of fostering movement signature to come through by not overwhelming the dance with complicated moves, but rather creating simple (but not easy) patterns that can be filled with expertise. I would say that there is an amount of letting go involved on the choreographer’s part, and I aspire to the level of craft. Maybe a future question would be: where is the groove in the choreographing, and what does it involve?
Little Girl
Dancing on a table, her stage.
Performing for whoever will watch
passersby, mostly.
In her element
where she belongs
Doing what she loves doing
In her world
With herself and no-one else
Long hair
Dressed in a sarong
Colorful
Sunset
Cooling wind from the sea
No worries
Just dance, wind, sea and the sounds of an island
Where she belongs.