Are we human or are we dancers?

I recently wrote a paper for school in which I featured a company called TERP Corps. After one night of viewing what this company does, I was a believer. The paper received huge response from my classmates and professor. So I would like to share a few snippets with you.

"It is late in the evening and I am making my way through the crowds on Canal Street. I find the building marked 392 and follow the instructions on the note on the door. Tonight’s experience will be all about following directions.

The elevator opens into a large studio space with colored handkerchiefs hanging from the ceiling. The floor is speckled with colored dots, arrows and lines. I notice the pile of shoes next to the elevator so I follow suit and leave mine in the pile as I silently chastise myself for not wearing socks that day.

As I make my way through the small crowd of smiling faces, I spot the waving arm of my friend Jen Roit. She directs me to have a seat as she continues to fiddle with wires and other electrical things that I am ignorant about.

Jen is the Project Manager for a little company called TERP Corps. The name is a shortening of the name Terpsichore, the Greek muse of dance.  The TERP system allows total strangers with no dance training to perform together in what ends up looking like a completely rehearsed dance piece. Jen has invited me to experience a TERP experiment. Apparently, this is the only way to really understand what TERP Corps does. I am ready for the challenge.

Jen introduces me to Patrice Regnier, choreographer and inventor of the TERP system of movement. She shakes my hand firmly and I sense that her infectious energy seems to have no limits. I instantly like her. As the rest of the participants trickle in, Patrice and Jen walk us through what we will be experiencing. Their friendly banter instantly puts the room at ease.

Then it’s time to get to work. We are strapped up with receivers and head phones and I am suddenly excited. I don’t know what instructions are going to come through those headphones, but I know I can’t wait to hear them. We find a spot on the floor and the experiment begins.

We are all being sent different directions on how and where to move our bodies. Sometimes, we are moving fluidly in unison and other times we are creating abstract figures and lines. The vibe is one of togetherness. I am hyper-aware of the people around me and how they are moving. There are moments when I am instructed to interact with someone close to me. We move together without having any knowledge of what will come next. It is beautiful. There is no music, just a gentle voice guiding your movements. But somehow, it feels like there is music playing.

We end up back where we started and the voice has gone silent. The only sound is the slightly labored breathing of everyone in the group. Then we erupt in applause and laughter. We have just performed a choreographed piece of art without having a single rehearsal or knowing at all what we were doing.

The atmosphere is one of pure, child-like joy. Everyone in the room is all smiles. Someone calls out, “Can we do it again?” Patrice is clearly happy with the experiment. Then they prep us for another one. We fan ourselves and wipe the sweat from our necks, but no one is daunted.

As the second phase of the experiment comes to an end, I watch Patrice’s face as her eyes sweep over the crowd. With her chin thoughtfully cradled in her hand, she smiles a crooked little sideways grin of success. Then it dawns on me, it is not about the execution of the choreography. The choreography is just a tool, not the product. What Patrice and her team are trying to produce is real human connection; social networking in its most raw form.

After a couple more experiments, we take some time to chat and reflect on the experience. Some of the participants are dancers, many are not. But the movements are not so complicated that they would alienate someone with no movement experience. We begin to laugh and reminisce about the experiment as if it were a cherished childhood memory. And by the time I leave, I realize that I have made an honest connection with these people; a true human bond that suddenly seems rare in a world of technological wonders. "


"As I wave goodbye to the group, I find myself hoping I will be in this room with them again soon. I had an unknown hunger for this kind of raw interaction and now that I've had a taste, I'm definitely going back for seconds. "

For more on TERP Corps and to watch videos of the experiements, visit their website:
http://www.terptribe.com/

What's at the end of your rope?

We have all been there. You wake up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to conquer the day. But quickly it becomes apparent that the forces of the universe are conspiring against you. Your hair won’t fall properly, you’re running late and what the hell is that stain on your shirt?

Take a deep breath.

As your day deteriorates, you can feel your posture change. Your face becomes a crinkled maze of furrowed brows and tight grimaces. And just like your mother said, your face freezes that way. Suddenly, you are surrounded by inconsiderate morons. This makes it increasingly hard for you to be the bigger person and maintain your polite demeanor. Still, you push through and manage to force pleases and thank yous through gritted teeth. But soon you are at the end of your rope.

You find yourself thinking, “If one more person so much as blinks in an annoying way, I’m going to lose it!”  Just then - as if you willed it to happen just by thinking it- someone sets you off.

Take a deep breath.

This person, perhaps unknowingly, has become the mascot of your bad day. As you recount the injustices of the day to anyone within earshot, this person becomes the “last straw”; a dark red cherry on the blighted sundae that was your day. Even if what they did was not the worst thing that happened to you that day, somehow it has become the most atrocious. Because shouldn’t they have sensed you were having a bad day and they should be extra nice? Because don’t they know that you have been dealing with idiots all day and just need someone to demonstrate some manners?

Now stop for a minute, and image you are the mascot of someone’s bad day. You may not even know it, but someone is carrying the image of your face in their head and it is the epitome of all that is wrong and awful. How does that sit with you?

Maybe you didn’t even do anything mean or terrible. Maybe you just didn’t smile when they said “Excuse me” or maybe you bumped them and didn’t say sorry. But if you took the extra 30 seconds to do those things, would it make a difference?

It takes a lot to work someone up enough to really ruin their day. But one simple gesture can be all it takes to disarm them and change the direction of their thoughts.

I recently had a day like the one described above. Except, right when I got to the point where I thought I was going to get real crazy on somebody, someone offered me their seat. It was as if a boiling pot had suddenly been removed from the fire. I could feel my body relax. I smiled and said “Thank you”. And I really, sincerely meant it.

And I realized I never want to be anyone’s last straw. As often as I can, I want to be the one that reminds that person that people have not totally lost their senses. And wouldn’t it be nice to be the face someone carries in their head when they think of how their day got a little bit better?