Lions and mermaids and angels, oh my!*
It’s safe to say the animal (and supernatural) kingdoms are well represented in the aerial arts. Explaining to students why the 12th mermaid is different from all the previous mermaids they’ve learned may make you want to rip your hair out. I've certainly been there! While brainstorming with Rebekah Leach the other day, we noticed something interesting:
There is a stark difference between a shape and a movement.
A shape is stillness in form.** Examples include nouns like mermaid, bird’s nest, hip hang, star, and ball. A movement, however, is action. Actions are verbs like pull over, tuck, roll, slide, and drop. While moving the body does pass through multiple shapes, so combining both shapes and movements to describe skills could come in handy.
Now, to make matters more interesting (or confusing?). Some aerial terms are dual-purpose, operating as both shapes and actions. For example: “A hip key” refers to the position of the body holding the fabric in a sine curve, and “to key over” refers to the action of rolling into position. To take it a step further, you could key over into any number of shapes like ball, pike, passe, etc. This reminds me of The Language of Dance, which states that actions often arrive in still shapes. Action arriving in a shape is a primary phrasing structure in the aerial arts, and it would make sense to utilize that format in naming skills.
Historically speaking, many skills have been named for the ending shape (hence 30 different angels), while other skills have been named for the action used to get there. If we wanted to be very technical, we might use a combination of actions and shapes to describe a skill (i.e. seated drop to angel under the bar). I know, it’s a mouthful, but it is clear.
So, should the short and sweet names be replaced by long technical names that define each action and shape in sequence? I think students respond well to shorter names because they are easier to remember (well, except for the 12 Mermaids, and maybe the Flying Purple Elephant is a bit much). Perhaps both can be useful. In her aerial dance manuals, Rebekah uses both a technical name for each skill as well as a poetic name - much like a generic name and a brand name. She also organizes skills into families, and mermaid is one of those!
Why doesn't everyone agree on what to officially call each skill?
I see three reasons - age, lineage, and systems. Aerial arts were originally passed down through professional circus performers, actors, and dancers from all over the world, making the form extremely diverse. Because each family or performance group came from different backgrounds, they worked under different vocabulary, not to mention different languages.
Recreational aerial fitness is quite young, still in that "gangly teenager with acne" phase. In other words, it's a bit awkward. Remember Beowulf? It’s a great example of Middle English, with all the misspellings and inconsistencies that languages go through. Compare that to the refined technique of ballet celebrating its 355th birthday. As a technique ages, some terms stick because they are useful while others fade away. That is sure to happen over time in the aerial arts, too.
Lineage also plays a role, as some skills are classically circus while others have an aerial dance lineage. Even ballet, while mostly consistent, has different systems like the French School, the Russian School, Cecchetti, Bournonville, and so on. I remember discussing Laban Movement Analysis at a conference with certified colleagues, and we still couldn’t agree on everything. That doesn't mean we couldn't eventually agree, but it is a process that involves respect for different viewpoints.
The third challenge deals with systems, or making skill names cohesive within a bigger picture. When naming skills, consider how each skill relates to the others. The connections between skills reveal core concepts that make learning easier, opening doors to infinite movement possibilities.
Where do we go from here?
It's all personal preference. You could:
At the end of the day, do what is best for your studio, and have fun with it!
What are your thoughts about aerial vocabulary? Please share in the comments below.
Many thanks to Nancy Carter (Aerial Arts of Utah) and the Facebook group, “Creating a Common Language for Aerial Artists” for the inspiration to write this post.
References: Your Move by Anne Hutchinson Guest and Tina Curran (see Language of Dance Center); inspiration from The Wizard Of Oz film.
About the Author: Julianna Hane traded life on a cotton farm to become a dancer and aerialist. She is the author of the Aerial Teacher's Handbook and Director of Training for Born to Fly Productions.
Our authors include our Master Teacher Trainers as well as Born to Fly™ Certified Teachers.