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Dani Brown joined the Buddy Dancers, a local community group, shortly before her fiftieth birthday in February 2020. All of her life, she created dances in her head, and then, in her late twenties, she scored a two Musical show gig as lead choreographer. It was a good experience but a theatre-fringe experience, and no one noticed her talent. She ended up marrying a firefighter.
The marriage fulfilled her in many ways, but as she approached her fifties, she realized she had forsaken her choreography roots, and determined to reconnect, she joined the Buddy Dancers. There were two months of new pleasure, meeting other dancers at the Podi Ranch Rehearsal Barn located north of town. Then the Pandemic hit, and everything shut down. Some of the Dancing Buddy members were tech-savvy, and Zoom was introduced, but it became clear that the member majority agreed they would use the time to go inward. During that time, Dani learned the many ways she had forsaken herself. So, when the Pandemic Lockdown cleared, she reunited with her fellow Dancing Buddies to express unlocked expression, beginning with releasing long-stored guilt.
Dani bought colored scarves at thrift stores and brought them to the Rehearsal Barn on Podi Ranch north of town, where the Dance Buddies gathered. Handing them out, she said, “I dreamt last night about choreographing a piece in with scarves represent guilt, which the release dancers remove from their person while the guilt layering dancers wrap the scarves at the same time.”
The dancers paired up and explored how to wrap a body in guilt. For example, messy meltdown remorse bit into the skin, whereas guilt about not trying hard enough is more of a layered silk suffocation. Guilty thoughts are hidden, and the guilt-layering dancers crumpled the pretty clothes and hid them under the release dancers’ clothes.
Next, the dancers explored removing the scarves by untying, unwrapping, uncovering from underwear and socks, or unbraiding them from their hair. Finally, it came time to improvise their moves to Leonard Bernstein’s Candide Overture. The whirling, nearly chaotic orchestration pairs well with frantically removing scarves, while the slower sections, deliberate and percussive, tell a story of relentless, intentional guilt layering. The piece eases into delightful lulling moments in which the dancers succumb to carrying guilt unawares.
After an hour and a half, the dancers sat on the floor with their water bottles.
“I never realized guilt has so many faces,” Dani exclaimed, excited by the infinite possibility of release.
