Since ballroom competitions can have up to 20 couples on the floor at one time, the syllabus ensures a safe environment. “If you have people who are lifting their partners, it could get dangerous very fast,” says Madison J. Shelton ’11, the HBDT competitions chair. The first HBDT rehearsals of any given year involve around 200 members on a small floor, so tricky moves like lifts are not only prohibited, but impossible.
HBDT’s rehearsals culminate in the Harvard Invitational, an annual competition between as many as 50 schools at which the team showcases their talents. The competition lasts two full days, during which the four styles at all three levels are performed. Professional judges wander the dance floor looking at each couple for a short amount of time; each round, they cut half of the couples until finally selecting the highest scorers.
Hard work pays off for the teams. CDT has placed around fifth or sixth in their division in recent years. They also stand alone as an Ivy League school at their contests. “People always think we’re joking when we say we’re from Harvard,” Prince says. “We get a lot of attention.”
HBDT also consistently performs at the top of their competitions, especially against their rivals at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). Members claim the rivalry is friendly—the two teams often share dancers because of various gender and number discrepancies between the schools—but they proudly report that they either beat or tied MIT in most of the finals at the 19th Annual Harvard Invitational at the end of March.
CHOREO AND CARDIO
These competitions require intense athletic training and teamwork. Like other fusion sports such as fencing and figure skating, competitive dancing requires intense physical fitness. The Department of Athletics recognizes the physical aspects of competitive dance, providing both teams with funding as club sports. “We review the groups’ specific goals and objectives and then work with them to accomplish these over the course of the year,” says Gary Brown, the Department’s Manager of Recreational Services.
Competitive dancers are certainly athletes, whether or not their competition of choice is seen as a sport. The stamina, flexibility, and energy dance demands necessitate frequent cardiovascular training and exercise. CDT usually practices four days a week for around two hours. Perez-Moreno runs regularly and Shelton does total body conditioning in addition to dance training. The brevity of routines—as opposed to football or basketball games, which can last hours—might seem to entail less need for endurance, but the dancers would strongly disagree. “When you get off a stage after a two-minute routine and you’re just panting—that’s the moment you know it’s a sport,” Szpak says.
Teamwork—an element generally absent in most art forms—also becomes essential. CDT members must perform in sync—“like the Rockettes,” Szpak says—while HBDT dancers work with partners. These pairings are chosen based on physical compatibility (a taller male partner facilitates certain moves) and motivation. Dancers who push themselves differently or set imbalanced goals eventually clash and split up. “In ballroom you rely a ton on your partner, especially as a woman, since you follow: he decides what you do next,” Shelton says. “You have to be very aware of another person.”
In the same way, Szpak compares CDT to a track team: “Everybody is dancing on their own, but it only succeeds if they all move together—so in that way, it’s more cohesive than a sport. If someone in front of you moves, you have to move even if they’re wrong. It really is like we’re on a playing field together, working as a team,” she says.
MAKING A POINTE
Such rigorous athletic training makes creative expression possible. “We’re classically training our muscles but we’re also expressing ourselves through dance,” Prince says. However, a routine won’t rise to its greatest form unless dancers have the stamina, flexibility, and poise that training provides. “You need to do a nice line with your arm, and to be competent at expressing that, you need to be physically able,” Perez-Moreno contends.
Dance teams are judged on various, partly subjective, criteria: technique, difficulty, passion, creativity, style, ability to communicate emotion, clarity, control, synchronization, and musicality—all of which highlight the hybrid aspects of the art. In ballroom, there are four principal aspects: musicality, beauty and technique, partnering, and speed and power. Musicality—or a dancer’s capacity to interpret the music through motions that fit the mood and rhythm—shifts these competitive dances from a sport to an art form. A competitive dancer should not just be robotically performing moves; there needs to be emotion behind every figure.
This is especially true for the lyrical style that CDT practices. A combination of ballet, jazz, and modern dance, lyrical style movements speak directly to the words and tone of a song using gestures and facial expressions. “If in the song the lyrics say that something is far away, then you extend your arm out to indicate that,” Szpak explains.
Nevertheless, both teams admit that show dancing—rather than competition—is where their work truly becomes an art. Almost theatrical in nature, non-competitive performances require the dancers to tell stories using their bodies as media. Performers can communicate a storyline even before the dancing begins through costuming.
Dance teams are even judged on how well costumes convey the theme and mood of the piece. CDT wore glittered black and purple outfits reminiscent of the night sky for their “Midnight” piece two years ago. This year’s vibrant red costumes were cut dramatically to suggest the fury of a woman incensed by her ex-lover, as the song dictated.
A woman’s costume in ballroom must catch the judge’s eye to bring attention to the couple, so attire is typically shiny and vibrantly colored—and, particularly in Latin dances, revealing. Dancers also need to be extremely tan, both to draw attention and look appealing under bright lights. “You need to put forward confidence; there’s a certain beauty in it,” Shelton explains. Every ballroom style has its own character that requires performers to act to the music, so costumes help dancers fit the parts. “You play a role of elegance and high class for Standard and a role of sex appeal for Latin,” Perez-Moreno says. These extravagant costumes require dancers to spend exorbitant sums of money to stay on top of their appearances—which often deters less-serious performers.
STRIKING A BALANCE
While these competitions might seem obscure to outsiders, the dancers insist on the mass appeal of their sport—as evidenced by popular entertainment such as “Dancing with the Stars” and the 2005 documentary film “Mad Hot Ballroom.” A fusion of physical skill and artistic beauty, competitive dance attracts those who want athletic challenge, creative expression, or a little of each. “As athletes, we’re constantly training and pushing our bodies to be better,” Szpak says. “As artists, we’re always looking for inspiration from outside sources and different ways to express ourselves.”
While show dancing seemingly provides more of an opportunity for self-expression, competing helps dancers build the skills necessary for collaborative creative communication. “When you dance by yourself, if your hip’s in a different direction than it should be, it doesn’t necessarily matter,” Szpak says. “It’s hard to get used to, but competitive dance forces you to realize, ‘If my triple isn’t perfect, the team will suffer.’ You’re not dancing for yourself anymore—it’s like a team sport, but one that makes a beautiful and expressive product.”
—Staff writer Ali R. Leskowitz can be reached at aleskow@fas.harvard.edu.