Dancing and Good Health
THE dance is its own justification. It needs no excuse, nor do the many millions who share its delights need to be told how beneficial it is to them. They know that they are healthier and happier men and women, and therefore get more out of life and give more to others, because they dance. If the purpose of life is, in the words of an immortal document, the pursuit of happiness, surely those who train their bodies to move in harmony with natural laws are fitting themselves for capacity to enjoy all that life brings. To live well requires good physical health, for which a prime requisite is an abundance of pleasant exercise. Not alone to those who are free from the necessity of the various forms of exertion that are termed “work,” but to every human being, exercise is as necessary as food. To those whose daily callings involve substantial physical labor, the need for exercise is just as great as for those of lighter employments. And nowhere can there be found so satisfactory a bodily exercise as in the dance. Sports, outdoor games, horseback riding, etc., have their place, but are available to a comparatively small percentage of all the people. Now that the introduction of the automobile has turned America into a nation of riders on soft cushions, the need for proper exercise has become more important than ever.
To live well, breathe well, sleep well, the body demands activities that will develop and strengthen it. The most delightful form in which this want can be supplied is in the dance.
The universal desire of mankind is for enjoyment; the qualification of physical, mental and aesthetic needs. To enjoy requires the possession of the Roman prime essential; a sound mind in a sound body. So closely are physical and mental health related, so complex the reactions of a disordered nervous system on bodily health, or the effect on the mind of physical weakness, that the wisest doctors do not pretend to say this illness is either wholly mental or physical. They do know that some violation of the laws of right living, some neglect to follow natural impulses, is chiefly responsible for the long list of ills that afflict mankind. And they are unanimously agreed that proper diets and an abundance of exercise are far better than cures; they prevent disease.
It is not necessary to go into physiological details to explain why the well-nourished body demands suitable exercise. That it does is an admitted fact. The question that confronts the millions who know that their bodily condition is not what it should be is: “What must I do to make myself stronger, and capable of enjoying life better?” The obvious answer is: “Dance.”
In dancing there is found a form of exercise that stimulates circulation of the blood to the remotest finger tip; that develops, under proper training, every muscle; that aids digestion to perform its functions of supplying nourishment to every tissue of the body, and brings to the dancers the glow of vigor and animation. These effects of the dance have long been proved by the experience of millions of men and women. Other millions who have not yet tried it will sooner or later make the experiment. They will find that life takes on a new outlook, that instead of listless indifference they are actively interested in many things that they formerly ignored; that with restored bodily vigor they have quickened minds and better appreciation of all their daily contacts with their fellows, and that they are enjoying each day’s existence with a zest never known before.
The dance is a physical, mental and moral upbuilding. It brings a greater capacity for success in the daily tasks and duties. It stimulates and restores. It shows the door to the glooms and welcomes gladness. It brings self-confidence in undertaking new enterprises, and banishes the mental depressions that result from bodily ills. It forms new circles of agreeable companions, and affords opportunities for congenial friendships. It avoids wasted expenditures for nauseous drugs and doctor’s bills. It puts humanity in harmony with fundamental natural laws, and makes of all who resort to it healthier, happier and better men and women.
DO YOU know what “repeaters” are in the language of the stage?
They are people who like a show well enough to patronize it more than once—well enough to spend their money to see it a second or a third time, perhaps many times, and bring their friends to enjoy it with them. There are many more “repeaters” on occasions when attractions have real merit of one kind or another than the casual public dreams of. The show manager watches for them and spots them, and rejoices greatly when he finds them abundantly in evidence, night after night, for he knows then that he has displayed real showmanship in his selection of a cast, a play, and in its rendition. The frequent return of a pleased patron accompanied by his companions attests the success of a show in stronger terms than any other one thing could possibly do. I go on record as saying that no show was ever a real financial success without it produced “repeaters.” It is a real test of genuine showmanship, recognized as such the world over by every shrewd theatrical manager.
Good showmanship consists of the ability to anticipate the verdict of the playgoing public. The successful showman must have his fingers on the public pulse in matters that concern entertainment. He cannot afford to guess. It is too expensive. He must correctly diagnose the case in advance of prescribing for its needs if he expects to be successful.
The wise showman always plans his play to have the very widest possible appeal, for the public is many sided, and a single narrow idea will fail to touch it at all points, as it must do if it is to have a popular acceptance. He knows, being a wise showman, that people come to his playhouse for entertainment, pleasure, laughter and relaxation, and not for a learned discourse on some abstract or wearisome theme. There are proper places for the lecture and the “big wind,” but that place is not in the theatre of the wise showman. It is his business to create his proffered entertainment into a valuable piece of property that shall declare actual cash dividends at the box office. That is being a successful showman, and he who does this exhibits real showmanship.
The successful stage dancer must possess showmanship. That is why the subject is brought into this book on stage dancing—that dancers may be made to realize a need of which they may be wholly uninformed.
It takes showmanship on the part of the dancer to get fully in touch with the audience, get down to their level, if you like to say it that way, and never go over their heads. Successful dancers always use good judgment in their offerings. The same kind of dance does not do for vaudeville, musical comedy, revue and opera. Each requires its own kind of dance. The revue has its own audience, the musical comedy one of another character, vaudeville still a third kind, and opera still another. Here is where the dancer’s showmanship comes in—to recognize this difference and adapt the offering to the audience before whom he or she appears.
Dancers who would profit to the fullest extent in their profession must learn how to absorb this essential element known as showmanship, in the various ways in which it may be done.
Reading along right lines is very important. Read the dramatic reviews and criticisms in the daily press, and read regularly the leading theatrical weeklies. Identify yourself with your profession in this way; read “shop” and talk “shop.” Make it a point to see and study other dancers, in vaudeville, musical comedy, opera and revue. Meet your fellow dancers in their own habitat, behind the scenes. The actual experiences that you are recommended to undertake in your own behalf in the chapter I have called “Making a Name” will be invaluable aids to you in harvesting a lot of the best grade of showmanship.
Travel will help you learn a lot. The traveled and successful theatrical person is always alert, quick, bright, posted in all important matters that concern the profession and all who are connected with it.
Those who take my courses as students of dancing are given a wide mental as well as physical training, to prepare them to cultivate showmanship that shall complement their skill as dancers when they become professionals. I call my lectures “inspirational talks,” for I do want what I say about their future careers to be inspiring to them, and encouraging and beneficial. I speak to my pupils from many years of stage experience, and I know if what I say is heeded and given full consideration they will be better dancers and secure better engagements, and do so in less time, as a result.
Good showmanship in dancing consists also in being able to “sell” one’s own personality in a dance. Select your offerings to suit your public. Put in the effective “tricks” in your exits that are so important in inviting applause. And learn to leave your audience “hungry” for more of you. Let them go away with a wish that they might see more of your dancing. That is your cue in successful showmanship, my dancers. Let the audience come back to see the same show again in order to once more enjoy your pretty work. That means “repeaters,” and repeaters, as I told you, mean successful showmanship, and both artistic and financial success.
It is never good showmanship on the part of the dancer, or of an actor or actress in any part, to let the audience know that you know they are out there. The way you handle an audience will have much to do with the opinion of your work that will be held by the big men in the theatrical world, who may be among those present at any performance, you never can tell when—and they, remember, are hiring good dancers now and then. Their judgment of how you handle an audience is worth consideration.
And bear in mind, too, that the most important part of your dance is the very end of it, the finish, upon which always depends the applause and the recall. You like to earn your bow, and that is right. Take your bow in front of the audience gracefully and quickly. Don’t milk the audience dry by your bows. Never do that. Get general applause, but don’t work up a lot of bows. Come right back, bow modestly and do a short dance, to acknowledge the applause. Such good work as that will stand the inspection and secure the approval of every theatrical manager whose approbation you value. An audience does not want to see you take bows. Bows simply gratify the vanity of the artist.
So, you see, there is quite a bit of showmanship for the dancer to study and acquire, and it is very much worth while for all stage dancers to put it into practice, early in their career.
There are entertainment values that the showman himself must be able to create from his available material, which he will find and develop in dialogue, lyrics, tuneful music, voice, singing, dancing, characterization, costumes, settings, scenery, properties, lighting, and everything else connected in any way with the stage picture or the presentation of his offering. The publicity and exploitation of the show will tax his showmanship from another angle and is of great importance to the success of the play or the artist. The selection of proper music also has much to do with the appeal to the auditors. No musical show can ever be made a success without beautiful, appealing melodies, or “song hits,” as we call them.
And now one final word of advice to my dancers: Three minutes is long enough for your solo dance. Concentrate your efforts. Do not present a long-drawn-out and padded dance that will weary everyone. Brevity is the soul of good dancing as well as of wit, and you will be wise to heed this from the very start of your professional stage career. Never show a dance to any prospective employer unless your dance has been thoroughly set and properly rehearsed with whoever is to play the music, pianist or orchestra. Never offer any excuses at such a time. Be sure of yourself, and only do one dance, your very best one.