Dancing Symbols: Movement Notation as a Form of Translation

The fact that, since the 17th century, the Western (classical) dance tradition has produced around one hundred different dance notation systems (Hutchinson Guest 1984: xi) is indicative of the perceived importance of recording choreography in a written form. These transcription codes exist for a number of reasons most of which are pragmatic— accessing older works no longer in a company’s repertoire; passing new choreographies on to future generations; allowing dancers to learn and practice their parts without the presence of a teacher; affording copyright protection for the choreographer’s creative work—but they also contribute to alleviating some of the stigma attached to dance as an artform due, in part, precisely to the limited way in which dance can be viewed, studied and handed down, a stigma consolidated by the lack of written records. This chapter will analyse how dance notation, exemplified by the two most widely used systems— Labanotation (1928) and Benesh Movement Notation (1955)—sets about translating physical movement into a form of written documentation, recording all manner of elements such as the part(s) of the body involved, directionality, the height at which the movement develops, its speed, the dancer’s gaze, weight bearing, the positions across the stage, the number of dancers appearing simultaneously and any potential interaction, such as in a Pas de deux or the more choral movements of the Corps de ballet. The process of intersemiotic translation from dance to notation (and notation to dance) will be illustrated through the example of The Dying Swan, where a musical score, a poetic composition and a choreography all come together to produce a performance that is then transcribed. Once written down, in the subsequent transition back from notation to physical movement and ultimately performance, just as in any other form of translation, there are varying degrees of possible interpretation. Dance notation claims to record an authentic, objective version of the work. Indeed, advocates speak of recording the original choreography ‘correctly’: “Notation allows objective documentation of dance in the same way that a musical score allows a composer to specify the intent of a musical composition” (Wilke et al. 2005, 201). While some dance companies now film their choreographies and rely on video recordings to access performances no longer in their repertoire, dance notation is still employed today, with proponents explaining that the use of a dance score allows performers to learn the choreography without being influenced by previous dancers’ artistic interpretations of the work. There is, however, considerable debate, for example, regarding how far the choreographer can be considered as the sole originator of the dance, with little or no acknowledgment of the dancers’ contribution. One of the defining characteristics of dance is its ephemeral nature, it exists through repetition rather than as one single ‘authenticated’ original as we have in literature or fine art (Pouillaude 2017, xi): so is it desirable, some ask, to aspire to permanent stability for an artform whose very essence is transient movement? Issues traditionally debated in Translation Studies such as authorship, originality, reproduction, creativity, interpretation and (un)faithfulness will, therefore, be investigated in relation to dance notation.