Dance Photography Closeup: NYC Dance Project

If you have never spent an afternoon cursing under your breath while trying to photograph the rapidly movement of a body under dim lighting at just the perfect fraction of a second required to get a well composed photo, you may not realize how very difficult it can be to capture that one simple moment of dance. If you have, chances are you developed a deep appreciation for those photographers whose work seems to effortlessly capture the spirit of the dancer in flight. During the process of writing my Dance Production book, I had the pleasure of getting to know a lot of these talented photographers.

When I saw the work  of the NYC Dance Project, formed by Ken Browar and Deborah Ory, I was immediately struck by their ability to capture the essence of the dancer in motion. NYC Dance Project is a collaboration between Deborah, Ken, and some of the top dancers working in the industry to create some truly stunning works of art. Each photo shoot is prepared as though it were it’s own dance production, with attention paid to costumes, locale, movement, and lighting. Over the last few years, Browar and Ory’s work has been on fire, showcased in some amazing publications – most recently the March 2016 issue of Harper’s Bazaar, featuring photos of American Ballet Theatre’s principal dancer Misty Copeland posing in Degas-inspired scenes for the magazine. You can find more of their work online at or on their Facebook page. In addition, they are publishing a book of their work with Black Dog & Leventhal/Hachette Books in September 2016.

I interviewed Deborah in 2014 regarding the process of dance photography. The chapter it was associated with was cut during my editing process, leaving me without a logical place for it in the book. I always hoped there would be a good place to showcase it, and I thought this might be a good platform in which to do so. I’ve included the interview below:

Tell me a bit about your background – do you come from the dance world?

I have a background in dance, I was a dance major at the University of Michigan. I danced professionally before I became a photographer.  Ken came from a fashion photography background, but had photographed some dancers from the Paris Opera Ballet early in his career for a magazine and also an advertising campaign.  He only dances with my children in the morning making them breakfast!  He is currently completely immersed in the dance world, seeing performances and meeting choreographers and dancers.

How did you get your start as a dance photographer?

My freshman year of college I was injured and was unable to start the semester.  My father had just bought a camera and had not even taken it out of the box.  I had to go to watch the rehearsals of the pieces I was supposed to dance in and brought my new camera with me.  It seemed like a completely natural transition.  After I graduated, I did commercial work for magazines and did not have time to work on dance photography.  I had 2 children and was very busy with commercial work.

After I met Ken and moved to NYC, my children began dancing at the American Ballet Theatre school.  We were redecorating my daughter’s bedroom and were searching for dance photos for the walls.  We both decided we needed to take them ourselves!  We decided to start NYC Dance Project and began photographing dancers together.

How does storytelling factor into your dance photography?

We are trying to tell stories with our photos, they are capturing a moment in time.  We are looking to capture the personality of the dancer, the feeling and emotion of the movement and the way that particular dancer moves. We feel Martha Graham says it best in this quote:  ‘To me, the body says what words cannot. I believe that dance was the first art. I believe that dance was first because it’s gesture, it’s communication. That doesn’t mean it’s telling a story, but it means it’s communicating a feeling, a sensation to people. Dance is the hidden language of the soul, of the body.’Martha Graham, 1985 

What does your typical session entail?

For us it is a little like a performance – there is hair/makeup, costume decisions, lighting, music and movement.  The dancers often tell us our sessions are harder than a performance, they have to be completely on the entire time.  We collaborate on the choreography together, or sometimes watch them improvise and stop them when we see a movement we want to work with.

Do you find a need for different photography techniques connected to certain styles of dance?

Not exactly.  We bring in a special floor for pointe work and we adjust the lights according to the movement.  We really adapt to each dancer individually, regardless of if they are a ballet or modern dancers.

What are some of the primary concerns in photographing dance for the stage?

You lose a lot of control when you photograph a dress rehearsal.  It’s no longer your shoot and you can’t control the lighting, movement, etc.  You really can only document what is happening.  You don’t get to work directly with dancers and it has a completely different feeling – the photos are about the particular dance and not about the dancer.

Is there any specialty equipment you use for dance vs. other types of photo shoots?

We still work with a large format camera, which really slows us down.  Ken wanted to work this way, and I resisted at first, but now see the advantage to working slower.  You really have to pay more attention and you need to know exactly what you want to capture.

Yes, no, maybe…

Many people have heard of the guiding principle of improvisational acting called “yes, and…” This philosophy goes something like this – when in an improv situation, never say no, negate, or disagree with your partner. Instead, listen to what they offer and then add to it to keep the action moving along.

There has also been a lot of conversation in recent years about the “power of no,” particularly regarding the prevalence of creative people and their tendency to say no with a high frequency. The argument is that highly creative and successful people are, by their very nature, busy folks. As a direct correlation to this, they often are so busy that they have to say no in order to maintain that busy schedule their creativity has generated in their lives. Much of my professional design work is in collaboration with actors, directors, choreographers, and fellow designers who all fall in the the creative and busy camp. In the performing arts, however, it seems like many of us have still not taken the note that it is ok to say no (sometimes necessary, even).

In my design work, I always try to be someone who listens before I speak. I want to hear what the director has to say about the script or the choreographer’s vision for the dance piece. Designers function as therapists of sort for productions. We listen to the director’s ideas –  their hopes and dreams, their fears – and synthesize all of that into an approach to the production. Like a good therapist, a designer often sees patterns or nuances to the director’s ideas that aren’t necessarily articulated in any concept statement. The successful designer learns to connect the dots and find ways to bring the production to life in a way that complements the director’s vision.

For me, that means that sometimes it is my job to say no, even though it goes against what the director might be asking for. There are a number of reasons why this may be the case: budget, access to resources, timeline, or just a philosophical difference of opinions on what works for the design. All of these and many more are justifiable reasons for saying no during the production process. Hopefully, you’re working in a production team that respects one another to the point that this is a given. Yes is good. It enables us to pursue our dreams. No is good, too. It keeps us grounded in the reality of what we can achieve. If you approach collaboration in the right way, you will find that no leads you to a wonderful third option (my personal favorite) called maybe. Maybe is the root of our creative collaboration. Once we reach maybe, it allows us to explore new ground that is often a by-product of more than one person’s ideas. That’s where the magic happens! A little of your thoughts, sprinkled with a spark of an idea from me, and feedback from the group is a recipe for success.

So, whether you’re a student, a professional designer, the director, or an intern, next time you find yourself in a collaborative project take a little time to listen and don’t be afraid to respond with a yes, no, or maybe. Empowering, isn’t it?


Making an Audio Playlist in QLab

Screen Shot 2016-02-16 at 4.14.59 PM.png

One of the questions I often get asked is if QLab can be used for making a playlist. The answer is yes, and it’s a simple process. Just follow the link below to watch my newest YouTube tutorial video. I hope you enjoy it and, as always, I would love to hear your feedback. Feel free to send your thoughts, comments, or requests for future videos to me in the comments feed below or on YouTube. Happy cueing!

Dance Production companion website

Just a quick note to let my readers know that the companion website for my newest book Dance Production: Design & Technology is live. There are a number of wonderful components to the site, such as free downloadable web-chapters. These two chapters feature information on non-traditional performances and touring your show. Like the print chapters, they feature examples of contemporary work in the field as well as easy-to-follow commentary on the process of producing a live performance. In addition to web-chapters, you will also find videos, a great web resource directory for finding dance and design/tech information online, and instructional projects. These projects are a favorite for teachers looking for supplemental assignments to assist in the classroom. One great benefit of the website is that all of the content is FREE, so this is an excellent opportunity to share some information without the obligation of buying the book (of course, I would be thrilled if you decided to pick up a copy, as well)!

I hope you find this website useful and enjoyable. Feel free to share it with some friends.

Screen Shot 2016-02-02 at 12.46.46 PM.png


Someone Else’s Shoes

Old shoes


It seems like every year we see more and more public schools cutting funding for arts, eliminating programs, and generally marginalizing the role of the arts in education. Without getting into a nasty political debate that is likely to lead nowhere, I think it is fair to say that politicians of all stripes from the Federal to the local level have been guilty of this, on some level. When looking at a basic cost/benefit analysis, I can even understand why it seems like an investment in arts programs is hard to justify – especially in the midst of the Great Recession.

As an educator, I get so tired of the perennial exercise in justifying the worth of the arts in our educational system. One positive that comes from this is that it affords me a regular opportunity to examine the worth of what I do. Every artist, if you’re being honest with yourself, has had those moments where you stop and really wonder if what you’re doing is impacting the world in any way. I have found that theatre artists are often guilty of this, due in no small part to the pervasive mentality that we are “just putting on a show.” While it is true that we work in the entertainment industry and, therefore, spend the majority of our time doing the whole entertainment thing, I think there is an important aspect to our work that is often overlooked – empathy.

Fundamentally, the role of theatre is to enable the artists and audience members to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. To be successful, an actor has to take on the mantle of another human being – to see through their eyes and respond to the world in a way that might not jive with the actor’s own inclinations. Designers and technicians collaborate with dozens of different people in an attempt to tell the story in the most effective manner. Often, they must abandon their own ideas along the way to make room for the end-product. Audience members get a glimpse into the inner workings of  character in a way that is impossible in the real world. At face value, this might not seem as important as scientists creating vaccines for deadly diseases or engineers designing nano machines. I would argue, though, that empathy has become the single most important commodity in the world today and we owe it to ourselves as a society to foster it whenever and wherever we can.

A look at the news on any given day can be an unsettling glimpse into the reality of our polarized world. On any topic it seems that there are two camps, us and them. Moderates and independents seem to be a dwindling thing of the past, replaced with folks on both ends of the spectrum unwilling to see the other side’s perspective and, worse, vilifying anyone with a differing opinion. Compromise is considered weakness. In the United States, we have seen this mentality taken to the horrifying destinations: cyber-bullying, character defamation, and even mass shootings. In this environment, a little empathy can go a long way. Any exercise in seeing the world through someone else’s eyes is a welcome medicine to treat this ailment.

That’s where we come full circle. The change that we want to see in the world must include art. The arts have a magical ability to break down walls and build bridges between camps. It has always been so. When we stop to consider how our education system will shape the world of tomorrow, let’s not forget that the arts aren’t simply electives – they are one of the last great tools we have at our disposal to instill a sense of empathy, bring our society closer together, and see the world through someone else’s eyes. For all of you artists out there, those goosebumps you’re feeling are completely appropriate. In a society where we all too often feel powerless, you are the ones with the ace up your sleeve. Get out there and save the world.


Filling The Void


Photo courtesy Max Wolfe. Creative Commons license.

As a teacher, I often get to observe that moment when a student looks at the blank piece of paper or an empty stage and  struggles with that internal debate over “what next?” This is a familiar exercise with artists of all varieties (and, believe it or not, all levels of success). As a writer, there is nothing more exhilarating and, at the same time, taunting than a ream of paper. For the painter, it is a canvas. The dancer alone in the studio feels the need to stake a claim on on that empty space and fill it with movement.

The Void is a magical and terrifying space that the artist must occupy and shape to his or her own will. This need to fill the void speaks to the power of art and our ability to carve out some small corner of existence for ourselves – to put a stamp on this place and time and boldly proclaim, “I was here!” More than that, it means that we took the few fleeting moments given to us and turned them into something that will last longer than the finite scope of our lifetime. Something that will AFFECT someone, or something. Lots of artists over the years have spoken about this:

“You don’t know how paralyzing it is, that stare from a blank canvas that says to the painter you can’t do anything. The canvas has an idiotic stare, and mesmerizes some painters so that they turn into idiots themselves. Many painters are afraid of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas IS AFRAID of the truly passionate painter who dares — and who has once broken the spell of ‘you can’t.'” – Vincent Van Gogh

This is the challenge I want to leave you with today: Break the spell of “you can’t.” Make something! Say something! Think! Create! Resist that voice that says “what if it isn’t good enough?” Good enough for whom? Embrace failure is an important and often necessary component of success. The fear of failure ought not keep you from trying. Quite the opposite. Samuel Beckett said it best in Westward Ho 

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”

The fear of failure should drive you to create new things – take bigger risks. Feel free to fail. By all means, fail in grand and dramatic gestures. Just don’t fall victim to the most mundane of all failures – the failure to get up off your butt and start something.