(Batsheva Dance Company in Ohad Naharin's "Three" - photo by Gadi Dagon)

A year after beginning my study of Gaga, the movement language developed by Ohad Naharin, it seems hard to believe that I once lived without it.  Gaga is profoundly influencing my artistry, widening my range of movement and fostering a greater confidence in my ability to improvise.  It is also now a major focus of my research and writing.

I wrote “Going Gaga” in November 2007 for my first blog and edited it for Dance In Israel.  To see a listing of Gaga classes, please check Dance In Israel’s Events page.  I’ll leave you to your reading – right now I’m off to Ohad’s monthly class!

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After making my initial rounds of the Tel Aviv studios to sample modern and contemporary dance classes, I decided it was time to immerse myself in the training method that is most unique to Israel: Gaga (גאגא).  Gaga was developed by the Batsheva Dance Company’s artistic director, Ohad Naharin, and it evolved not only through his work with professional dancers but through experimentation with non-dancers; indeed, when a non-dancing employee of Batsheva expressed a desire to dance in the late 1990s, Naharin began biweekly classes for her and several other employees. The Batsheva company now trains daily in Gaga, and since 2001, members of the general public have been able to practice Gaga in open classes.

Gaga Dance Classes: The Logistics

Currently, there are hour-long classes six days a week at the Suzanne Dellal Center taught by dancers who have worked with Naharin; on some days, there are two or three classes.  Most people who attend these classes are not aspiring dancers with previous training.  Instead, they are members of the general public who found out about Gaga through word-of-mouth.

People interested in practicing Gaga must commit to an introductory month. For a very reasonable fee – 220 shekels (roughly $60, depending on the exchange rate) – beginners can take as many classes as they would like, and they also gain free admission into the special monthly class offered by Ohad Naharin himself.  This month-long trial period allows novices like me to absorb the philosophy of Gaga, receiving information from the rotating roster of teachers and observing the changes in our bodies and movement over time.  After the first month, practitioners can decide to take one class per week (220 shekels for a month) or unlimited classes (330 shekels for a month).

What is Gaga?

Now you have some background, but what exactly is Gaga?   At my first class, I was given a double-sided paper with more detailed information.  Here is an excerpt from the English translation:

“Gaga is a new way of gaining knowledge and self awareness through your body.  Gaga is a new way for learning and strengthening your body, adding flexibility, stamina and agility while lightening the senses and imagination.  Gaga raises awareness of physical weaknesses, awakens numb areas, exposes physical fixations and offers ways for their elimination.  Gaga elevates instinctive motion, links conscious and subconscious movement.  Gaga is an experience of freedom and pleasure. In a simple way, a pleasant place, comfortable close, accompanied by music, every person with himself and others.” (Ohad Naharin, Gaga introduction sheet)

The second side of the handout provides elaborations on the following instructions: listen to the body, be aware of others in the room, work barefoot and silently, and arrive promptly.  Another key instruction is below:

“Never stop:  The class is one session, no pauses or exercises, but a continuity of instructions one on top of the other.  Each instruction does not cancel the previous one, but is added to it, layer upon layer.  It is, therefore, important not to stop in the middle of the session.  If you get tired or want to work at another pace, you can always lower the volume, work 30%, 20%, float, rest but without losing sensations that already awakened.  Do not return to the state your body was in, before we started.” (Ohad Naharin, Gaga introduction sheet)

My First Experiences with Gaga

Reading this introduction sheet piqued my curiosity even more in the final minutes before my first class, and I found that the excerpt above gave an accurate sense of the class. In Gaga, verbal instructions (primarily in Hebrew but with some English kindly thrown in for me and others) draw students’ attention to particular body parts, actions, dynamics, and spatial relationships.

There are some common terms and images in these instructions, such as:

• float
• shake
• draw circles with different body parts
• imagine the floor is getting very hot
• become a string of spaghetti in a pot of boiling water
• connect to pleasure

Here is a small sampling of other prompts which recur with variations:

• feel like you are kneading dough with your hands
  
• imagine little explosions going off inside your body
  
• imagine a point within your chin (or other body part); where can you put that point?
  
• sense and explore the space behind your neck (or other body part)
  
• quake as if there is an earthquake beneath you
  
• move as if your flesh has melted off and you are just bones

Unlike many of the modern and contemporary classes I have attended, the Gaga classes begin standing.  Usually we start by simply shifting our weight side to side, slowly allowing the movement to travel through our bodies and layering our motion in accordance with verbal instructions like those above.  In a typical class, we gradually build up to level changes and locomotion through space.

At times we use our voice in Gaga, counting down as we bring a certain action to its peak for 10 more seconds or allowing our movement to elicit noise.  We also engage our focus and are encouraged to look around at our fellow classmates as we conduct our “research.”   On some occasions we work with partners.  We fill in the negative space around them, call attention to particular body parts through touch, or riff on their personal groove.

I had the unique experience of taking Gaga one day with my classmates from a seminar on classic Jewish texts and contemporary Israeli culture held at Alma Hebrew College. Yossi Naharin, who is command central for Gaga classes (and who also happens to be Ohad’s brother), gave us a tour of Batsheva’s facilities and debriefed us after our Gaga class with Arkadi Zaides.  Not wanting to influence the language or reactions of my classmates, I sat back and listened to their comments before speaking myself.

A couple of people who had been apprehensive about dancing were pleasantly surprised at how much they enjoyed Gaga.  Others commented on how wonderful it was to move without a sense of judgment or competition – and without the usually present and frequently scary wall-length mirror (the mirror is purposefully covered in all Gaga classes, and as Yossi pointed out, there are no mirrors in the studios that Batsheva uses).

As our discussion moved to questions about typical dance training, I finally talked about what I experienced in my first two weeks of Gaga.  Many of my early reflections, made after 8 sessions, still hold true after months of regular classes.

Much to my delight, Gaga enables me to find movements that I would never choose if simply instructed to “dance” or “improvise.”  Usually I slip into ballet or mainstream modern dance-influenced movements when given the license to improvise, but this framework encourages what is for me an exceptionally honest investigation of how my body can move, freed from my previous training and stylistic preferences.  Gaga also allows me to tap into actions such as shaking which I previously shied away from because I worried they would aggravate old injuries; moreover, it empowers me to perform these movements for a sustained period of time with remarkable ease.

At the time I first wrote, I was also struck by how my experience in Gaga dovetailed with my exposure to Qi Gong and energy work.  There are moments in Gaga class where I am able to simply allow the energy to flow through and guide my body without me exerting either conscious choice or physical force.  In November 2007, I wrote, “I am looking forward to continuing these explorations, observations, and (hopefully) transformations throughout the coming months . . .”   Transformations did indeed occur, and I am excited to realize that my experience with Gaga will be a ongoing journey for years to come.

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Related Articles on Dance In Israel

• “Gaga: Ohad Naharin’s Movement Language, in His Own Words” (Featuring a beautiful quote from Ohad Naharin)
  
• “Gaga: A Foreigner Explores Ohad Naharin’s Movement Language” (Musings on my experience from April 2008)
  
• “Ohad Naharin on Gaga (Video)” (Ohad Naharin talks about Gaga and explains some concepts in a video)
• “A Glimpse into the Gaga Workshop” (a look into the Gaga intensive held by Batsheva in the summer)

*This post was made possible thanks to a Fulbright student grant funded by the U.S.-Israel Educational Foundation and hosted by the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance.

(A studio at Adama in Mizpe Ramon)

Right now I am spending my time in Hebrew ulpan rather than the dance studio, but last year I happily spent my first few months traipsing from studio to studio.  I was fortunate enough to return regularly to several teachers while funded by my Fulbright grant, including some of those mentioned in “Surveying Dance Training in Israel: A Report from the Studios.”  Over the course of the year, my impressions of technique styles and influences developed not only through my continued attendance but through conversations with my teachers.  You will get to hear from some of these artists themselves in my podcasts and in write-ups of interviews, but for now, you can read my first impressions as a newcomer to Israeli studios.

I first wrote this post on November 6, 2007 for my own blog.

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Besides attending concerts and meeting dance scholars, I am busy investigating technique classes in Tel Aviv.  I am attempting to do my initial survey in a relatively methodical manner, working my way slowly from studio to studio and taking classes labeled modern (מודרני – “moderni”), contemporary (עכשווי – “achshavi”), or release (רליס – “release”) before plunging into the world of Gaga, a technique developed by Ohad Naharin, or indulging myself with a ballet class.

I suppose this is as good a time as any to quickly summarize my own physical background as a dancer, since it certainly colors my perception of the classes I am taking here.  I trained in ballet for 12 years and had small tastes of Graham, Taylor, and Limón-flavored modern dance before abandoning my pointe shoes completely in college.  My modern dance education continued with those mainstream flavorings, and I also studied a lot of Cunningham technique in graduate school.  In the last few years, however, I have branched out and taken more release or release-influenced classes, primarily with Bebe Miller and Michael Estanich at The Ohio State University.  Thus I am familiar with a range of styles, but I am still figuring out the boundaries of release and finding our how my body operates within this framework.

Back to Israel:

In early October (2007), I took classes from Gilat Amotz (גילת עמוץ), Shimrit Kobalio (שמרית קובליו), and Shlomit Fundaminsky (שלומית פונדמינסקי) at The Group in Jaffa (הקבוצה ביפו, HaKvutza B’Yafo).  Next I took a class from Coralie Ladam (קוראלי לאדם) and another from Inbal Aloni (ענבל אלוני) at Noa Dar’s studio (סטודיו קבוצת מחול נוע דר), which is just 10 minutes away from my flat in central Tel Aviv; Shlomit Fundaminsky also teaches there.  On Sunday I took a release class with Yasmeen Godder (יסמין גודר) at her studio in Jaffa, and yesterday I went to the studios at Suzanne Dellal for a class with Niv Sheinfeld (ניב שינפלד).  The one exception to my modern-contemporary-release rule was a technique/improvisation class given by Ilanit Tadmor (אילנית תדמור) at Studio Play, in which we joined together in some particular stretches and exercises but primarily explored specific concepts through guided improvisation.

With the exception of Coralie Ladam, who moved here from France two years ago, all of the teachers I have studied with are Israeli.  Several of them are choreographers (at least Godder, Sheinfeld, Amotz, Fundaminsky), and many of the teachers perform either with their own groups or with other companies.  While some of their classes – especially Yasmeen Godder’s – were tailored to advanced dancers, others were geared specifically towards an adult population (Niv Sheinfeld’s) or a broader, mixed-level group.  Despite these differences, I was able to observe many similarities among the classes.

Whether or not the classes were explicitly labeled as or described with the term “release,” all of them seemed heavily influenced by release work (I couldn’t resist that phrasing . . . ).   With the exception of one or two classes that began with guided improvisation, most began with floorwork incorporating Bartenieff Fundamentals exercises (working in the X, warming up the head-tail connection, femoral flexion, knee drops building into gentle leg swings, etc.) and yoga (downward dog, warrior poses, etc.). (Editor’s note: I perceived many exercises as Bartenieff-related because of my own experience in the Fundamentals, which I studied in graduate school.  However, none of my teachers have talked specifically about Bartenieff as a direct influence.)

Next the classes progressed to some standing exercises: pliés; perhaps some rolling down the spine and swings; footwork; etc.  A few classes included brief traveling exercises across the floor, several featured a walk or two around the room so we could sense our bodies in the space, and all culminated in phrasework.  Shared principles included an emphasis on connectivity among body parts, a focus on ease of movement, and a general privileging of energy flow and momentum over particular shaped positions.  Upon learning that I was not fluent in Hebrew, all of the teachers gave at least part of their instructions in English, and at times they verbally referenced very familiar concepts such as head-tail or sits-bones-to-heel connections.  Some also encouraged us to assess how our bodies felt after specific exercises.

As I take more classes with each of these teachers, I am sure I will pick up on the nuances of their individual teaching and movement styles.  So far, Niv Sheinfeld’s appeared to the most differentiated from the bunch, with fewer, less overt yoga and Bartenieff references (though perhaps some references to qi gong); at times, shapes were quite important, but this positional specificity was within the context of his quirky phrasework which, like his full choreography, was imbued with clear intention.  I plan to talk to each of these teachers about their influences, styles, and preferred labels, and I hope that these conversations in English will allow me to move beyond language barriers and class population differences to more fully understand their approaches.

There are still a few studios I have yet to visit, such as Studio Naim, Bikurei Haitim, and Studio B, and there are a couple of  teachers I have not met at the venues I have frequented thus far, so my quest continues . . .

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Interested in taking dance classes in Israel?  Check out our resource page, Studying Dance in Israel, for more information.

*This post was made possible thanks to a Fulbright student grant funded by the U.S.-Israel Educational Foundation and hosted by the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance.

Studio at Adama in Mizpe Ramon, Israel

At my first Hebrew lesson last year, I approached my tutor with this request: please teach me the names of body parts.  I realized that this vocabulary was essential if I wanted to conduct physical research in dance classes and workshops.  Yes, teachers were happy to translate their instructions into English for me, but I also wanted to understand their Hebrew instructions and their comments to Israeli students.  Just as the body is central to my research, it was the logical starting place for my study of the Hebrew language.

By the end of the year, I had mastered the names of numerous body parts and of many verbs commonly used in dance classes.  My teachers no longer needed to translate quite as much for me, and I felt I was more fully grasping their instructions by operating in their native tongue.  Now I’m continuing my quest to dance in another language by studying Hebrew in an ulpan, an intensive 5-month long language program.

I wrote the post below for my website on October 19, 2007.  Though I still have a long way to go with my Hebrew skills, it is fun for me to read this and recognize my progress!

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I have often thought of dance as a religious experience. That has been quite true here in the holy land: upon entering the studio, I find myself praying that I’ll be able to follow along despite the language barrier, and I thank God for my previous experience in Bartenieff Fundamentals and in classes taught by Bebe Miller and Michael Estanich, which are the most stylistically similar to what I have experienced in Israeli contemporary dance classes thus far.

Indulge me in the following exercise:

Imagine that you are in a dance class, standing with your legs in parallel. First you are asked to close your eyes (you can at least understand that phrase, since you learned the word for “eyes” as a child and you have seen the word for “closed” on signs in darkened store windows). Now, without any visual cues and barely knowing the words for different parts of the body – let alone any other verbs or qualitative phrases that might be used in a typical dance class – you are given verbal instructions. Mostly likely, you are not actually moving (you cheat and open your eyes periodically to confirm that the teacher’s monologue calls for a mental examination of your internal state rather than a physical exploration of external space). When you recognize the foreign words for “head” and “down,” you assume that you are supposed to roll down your spine – and thankfully, once you have rolled down to the point where you can peek between your legs to the dancers behind you, you find that your best guess was very good indeed.

This should give you a taste of my most recent ventures into Israeli dance studios. I had already mastered the words for right, left, up, down, body, head, legs, and hands prior to my arrival in Israel, but otherwise, I lack the vocabulary used within the context of a contemporary dance class. Because of previous experience, I assume that I should be taking stock of my body and clearing extraneous information from my mind during exercises such as the one described above, but instead I find my mind working overtime to catch any meaning – which means I can’t truly fulfill the intent of the exercise.

Improvisational exercises are the most difficult; I want to find the movement within myself rather than copy it from someone else, but in order to get a sense of the instructions, I usually need to observe the teacher or my fellow classmates. Fully choreographed exercises are easier because there is some mimicry involved, and I treat these as fun challenges. How much information can I absorb visually? What parts of the verbal instructions can I understand, and what new words can I learn because of their repetition and the accompanying visual cue? Can I really see the difference in the two versions that the teacher is demonstrating? What do my instincts tell me? It is a true adventure!