Still Dancing, Dancing Still
I grew up dancing, and doing contemporary dance was the first time I felt truly connected to my body and what it could do. The form allows for expression and spontaneity, with less restrictions than other types of dance like ballet or jazz. Dancing was a big part of my formative years, although my relationship with it was complicated, because this was also a time when I experienced a lot of bullying about my appearance and my body. When I started shooting this series at the Canadian Contemporary Dance Theatre in Toronto, one of the first things I noticed was how the young dancers were both confident and supportive of each other, and that their teacher, Megan Nadain, was very encouraging and inclusive. This differed from some of my experiences, and from cultural stereotypes about the competitive nature of dance classes. It was part of what made me interested in documenting the relationships between the dancers. This ongoing series, a mix of digital and film photography produced with the assistance of the Canada Council for the Arts and Toronto Arts Council, is the result.
I chose a fly-on-the-wall approach with the photos because I didn’t want to interfere with the dancers’ natural movements, dynamics and routines. In my work, I’m interested in capturing unexpected human moments as genuinely as I can. Often in dance photography, all you see are the perfect studio shots of dancers showcasing their very best moves, but I’m not interested in that; what I’m most interested in are the organic, unposed moments. Shots where it almost appears like the dancers aren’t dancing at all. There is a kind of spookiness to some of these photos, where expressions are blurry or strange poses seem almost alien. I appreciate this sense of ambiguity; I’d like the viewer to think, “What’s happening here?,” if they don’t know the context of the work. Sometimes, the captures of these in-between moments make it seem like another world entirely, as if the dancers are transported to a different realm while they’re dancing. In a way, that is what dancing is.
Angela Lewis is a Toronto-based photographer. Some of her clients include the New York Times, Rolling Stone and the Globe and Mail. Her personal work explores memory, family dynamics and bodies in relation to space. Places We’ve Never Been, her photo series of mature women in natural environments, explores grief and loss, and is based on memories of her late grandmother. It was recently featured in the Walrus and shown in a solo exhibition at Gallery 44 during Toronto’s CONTACT Photography Festival. In 2014 Angela co-founded the now-defunct photography collective SOFIA, which was a space for women to make and discuss personal photo projects. She currently mentors emerging photographers.