Dance lets people express what words cannot, says Anumai Raska

Dancer Anumai Raska writes in an essay published by ERR that dance allows people to express things they cannot put into words. Her reflections appear in the “Why dance?” series, which explores why dance artists, critics and audiences consider the art form meaningful and deserving of more attention.

Dance can be choreography, Raska writes, but it can also be free, unorganised and disobedient movement. It can be found in a deliberate way of walking or in the accidental synchrony of treetops.

Dance has been part of Raska’s life for 22 years. Her journey began in a folk dance ensemble before she moved on to a dance studio. During an important period of her development, the studio became, if not her first home, then certainly her second. Classes were often so crowded that the dancers could barely fit into the room, yet some of her closest friendships were formed there. They sometimes spent several hours a day dancing until the mirrors steamed up.

Only after returning to that world as an observer did Raska realise how important the experience had been and remained. A few years ago, she attended the Christmas concert of the same dance studio, where performers ranged from small children to adults.

Watching the youngest dancers, Raska saw them struggling with their bodies, with one another, with the music and with the space. They were learning how to achieve synchrony and work with other people, how to respond when they forgot a movement, and how to move their bodies to reach the place they wanted to reach.

As the older groups appeared on stage, new layers emerged. The focus was no longer only on the individual body and the group. It became possible to see how performers expressed their attitudes and personalities through movement, and how they brought the audience into the performance. The performance became something like a conversation.

Raska says she agrees with her parents’ view that studying at a music school can help children achieve better results in mathematics. Activities that stimulate different senses can strengthen people in other fields as well, she writes, and dance can have the same effect, particularly when it is taught purposefully.

She is glad that dance classes appear to be widely available in these parts. At the same time, she feels that society tends to view dance mainly as a pleasant way to stay fit. Other benefits of creative movement have been neglected or left to specialists.

In addition to developing coordination, a sense of rhythm, flexibility and overall physical ability, dance can provide an encounter with something abstract. For one person, that might be divinity, grief, celebration, a sense of belonging or healing.

Raska first heard about the tarantella, a dance from Italy, while studying dance at university. It was once believed to cure a wolf spider’s bite. Later explanations of the dance ritual are also compelling, she writes: dancing the tarantella was understood not to free the body from poison, but from the pressures created by a patriarchal society and poverty.

Dance gave people permission to let their bodies scream, twist and release what they could not or were not allowed to put into words. The ritual was also supported by other residents, strengthening the sense of local community. Learning about the tarantella made Raska understand that dance is not only about feeling good, but can also be a form of resistance.

From an early age, people are taught to sit properly, remain quiet and polite, and express their emotions privately, if at all. In short, they are taught to take up little space and suppress their bodies’ physical instincts. Alongside these norms, Raska says, changing sources of stress must also be recognised.