Music and Dance

I remember the first time I became fully enamored of the relationship between music and dance. It was when I was introduced to the famed show "Riverdance," which was then only a few years into its ongoing international phenomenon. A teacher had the original 1995 production on VHS, and allowed me to watch it. From the very start, the music of composer and arranger Bill Whelan had me in a trance with its cross between rhythmic and melodic intensity and with a firm respect for both Irish and multiethnic musical traditions, as put forth by the collective of musicians known as the Riverdance Orchestra. When the dancers made their way onto the stage and began to move their feet in near perfect synchronization with serious expressions on their faces, I felt a rush of emotions. I was completely enamored of them, yet at the same time I was intimidated by them too, as I frequently was among dancers and other visual performers at the time. I felt awe and shame, excitement and embarrassment all at once.

The dancers I have been fortunate enough to collaborate with at differing times in my life have told me that they do not perceive my work as a musician to be any less of a challenge in its own way for me than what they do is for them. And when we have put our energy into this subsequent collective whole, we all know it has worked as well as it has, because we have believed in it. And when I go back to the footage of various Riverdance productions as I have often done, it occurs to me that every human being both visible and invisible to the audience must have felt a firm collective belief in what they were doing, which could only have come through by putting everything they had into their own roles as they so obviously did. And as such, my older and wiser self can look back with the satisfaction of understanding how when part of a production with high expectations, we all will operate as a collective whole no matter which part we play as long as we all know how to play it and play it to the best of our abilities.

Ben Merliss