To dance or not to dance – that is quite a question

Whenever music reaches your ears and you feel like dancing, please, be on your guard, because dancing is not always allowed! Why not? Because Western culture has developed the idea that serious music, the kind that digs deeply into your soul, considered “profound”, the kind scuba divers of musical aesthetics like, only exists to be listened to.

Consequently, it’s no surprise that musicians who practise the most prestigious genres are frequently uncomfortable in their bodies, and look rather clumsy when they try to dance. Conservatory training gives them a hang-up, and once you have it, it becomes difficult for your body to respond naturally to sound and rhythm. It is in itself remarkable that conservatory students (whether their main study is clarinet, piano, singing or composition) are never required to take at least one course in any kind of dancing. Reportedly, even the great Beethoven couldn’t dance. He would have liked to, but often ended up treading on the feet of some poor lady who had agreed to follow him onto the dance floor.

In other words, music referred to by adepts as “serious”, requires you to place your body under strict control. Rhythm in particular has to become a purely mental experience, and nothing else. Back in the 1980s, Olivia Newton John used to sing, “Let’s get physical”, but conservatory-trained musicians never took that invitation seriously.

Even when a piece of serious music (or one that in time became classified as such) is labelled a “dance piece”, that does not necessarily mean you can dance to it. And indeed, you are not likely to feel like dancing while listening to the Aida dances by Giuseppe Verdi, which seem to have been written with Pinocchio in mind, or the lugubrious Passacaglia by Anton Webern.

How can all this be explained? Well, George Bernard Shaw considerably helped when he observed that dancing is “the vertical expression of a horizontal desire”. And this is exactly what Western culture, shaped by Christianity, does not like. More generally, all Abrahamic religions have a problem with music, because music activates the body and, in so doing, brings sensuality and eroticism to the surface.

Music, however, can to some extent be disembodied. It can be done by making sure rhythms don’t carry you away, and that tone colour is never intoxicating or luscious. When appropriately disembodied, music can even be accepted as part of a religious liturgy – where people in the congregation are supposed to focus on their souls rather than their bodies. But you can’t take the body out of dancing, because there’s no dance without it. That’s why Abrahamic religions reject dancing in their liturgy.

This exclusion of dance is at the root of a fascinating process: first, the invention of the concept of “absolute music” in the 19th century (that is, music whose sound has no descriptive function at all), and then the invention of “classical music”, music that is there just for listening to (in motionless silence) and nothing else. The exclusion of the body became at this point an indicator of seriousness and artistic intent. Serious music is not for dancing; if music is for dancing, it isn’t serious.

Let’s face it: dancing has become quite marginal in Western culture. Classical ballet and modern dance are for professionals, to be performed in front of a public that does not dance. We have even learned to watch musicals and TV shows, rather than getting involved. Nowadays, young people are almost the only ones who dance. They can’t resist the natural drive to activate the body in the context of collective erotic rituals. Unsurprisingly, they often need to get high on alcohol and drugs to overcome inhibitions absorbed at an early age. Disco dancing is one of the very few Dionysian rituals that are still allowed in our society, and, needless to say, it’s regarded as a potential breeder of social deviance. And there is some truth in that. Music and dance are like electricity. They contribute to a wholesome life because they involve the body and, whether we like it or not, a body we have. But like electricity, music and dance need to be handled with care.

So, what’s the bottom line? I’ll put it this way: it’s highly unlikely that while attending a concert of “serious music” you might feel like dancing at all. But if by any chance you do, hold it right there! Freeze! Don’t you even dare tap your foot! Forget you have a body and concentrate on your soul. If, as in my case, you don’t have one, you can more comfortably stick to popular music and rock!