If contemporary dance feels scary because you don't think you'll understand it, here's a tip: stop trying to understand it. Really.
Part of the joy of watching dance, with its breathtaking physicality and artistry, is in making your own meaning.
Choreographer Rafael Bonachela, the artistic director of the Sydney Dance Company, says there is no 'right' meaning to grasp.
Just like music, it is completely open to interpretation.
"I never want to provoke a prescribed response from an audience. I do hope to provoke an emotional reaction where they leave the space feeling altered in some way," he says.
Contemporary dance is about what you think and feel, which means there's no right or wrong way to experience it.
If you haven't discovered it yet, there's a lot you're missing out on.
Wait, what is contemporary dance?
Contemporary dance mixes elements of several styles, including classical ballet and jazz, but it breaks away from the formal techniques that make those styles so recognisable.
It was developed in the mid-20th century, as dancers and choreographers began to push the boundaries of their art and explore new forms of self-expression and storytelling.
Jill Ogai, a dancer and choreographer with The Australian Ballet, has performed both classical ballet and contemporary, and explains that there are different lines of movement involved.
"Classical ballet requires a balance on a much smaller point on the ground, and it's about lightness and skimming the floor and defying gravity," she says.
"Contemporary dance has a much more natural range of motion and movement — the feet are more parallel [to the ground], and it's much more grounded. It's more about going with gravity than defying it."
Instead of following a narrative in the way ballet does, contemporary dance is usually inspired by a theme.
For example, where a ballet might follow a doomed love story (hello Swan Lake), contemporary dance is more likely to explore the broader theme of love or relationships.
Why it matters today
Dance can be a lot of things – serious, audacious, thrilling, arousing, funny, confronting, ironic, joyous, connective, even brutal.
Bonachela describes dance as "the body in poetry", and says it offers something we need now more than ever.
"The world is going crazy, so we need those moments where we allow our imagination to go, where we can dream and be inspired; and dance can definitely do that," he says.
"It is embracing of new things and it celebrates self-expression and difference. Today, in the world we live in, we need more of that."
Dance can also have a powerful impact that extends far beyond the stage.
Daniel Riley, a Wiradjuri dancer and choreographer, and the artistic director of Australian Dance Theatre, Australia's oldest contemporary dance company, says dance can open us up to important and urgent conversations.
He uses the analogy of an iceberg, saying dance helps us reach beyond the 10 per cent we see above the surface, and get to the 90 per cent that lies beneath — the important stuff.
Riley's new production, titled Savage, "challenges the narratives we are sold as a nation — that Captain Cook founded this country, and the myth of terra nullius," he says.
"It is about questioning who holds the power, and why we continue to believe certain narratives," says Riley, adding that the stories of the stage have the power to shape society.
Riley developed his artistic voice at Bangarra, Australia's flagship First Nations dance theatre company, which he says was a bridge to understanding his identity and culture.
"I lead via a cultural lens and by wanting to celebrate my identity, and celebrate the world's oldest ongoing culture," he says.
"We are at a precipice where we can lead, and I can make change in how we're seen and spoken about."
You won't be 'spoon-fed a meaning'
If you're looking for a straightforward, signposted narrative in contemporary dance, you're not going to find it.
It is about coming to your own unique understanding – which is why one person might be moved to tears while another watching the same performance will have a huge grin plastered across their face.
"I like the idea of contemporary dance not spoon-feeding you, but opening the door and asking, 'Well what do you think? What did you get from it? How can we all share something together?'" Riley says.
"You do not need to understand anything before you go. You may not understand anything at the end anyway. But you may have had an emotional response to something, you may leave questioning something, or seeing something in a different way."
While you're not being spoon-fed meaning, you don't step into the theatre completely blind, either.
There's usually a little blurb about the piece that gives you an insight into the theme and tells you about the choreographer's inspiration, which can guide your understanding.
Perth company Co3 Contemporary Dance, which will present Douglas Wright's Gloria in September, offers an app that people can access prior to a performance to gain insight into different aspects of the work.
It's something Co3 artistic director Raewyn Hill is incredibly proud of.
"As a creator, we really prioritise bringing the audience with us. This helps people understand the work, because it can feel very abstract," she says.
The app includes interviews with Hill, the show's dancers and designers, and information about what inspired the work and what audiences can look out for.
"We work really hard at giving information on the arts process and the concept to enable people to be prepared for the performance," Hill says.
Alternatively, you can always make up your own story.
"I might make a work about XYZ, but I make that through my life experiences — and because of your life experiences you may find something completely different," Hill says.
"I want to give permission for that, to say, 'You can do that.' That's what makes it contemporary. That is the very essence of it.
"It's nothing more than energy moving through space, and everyone understands energy."
Isn't it a bit la-di-da?
Say it with me: contemporary dance is for everyone.
Riley says because it is so open to interpretation, it is "the most accessible form of dance".
"The oldest form of storytelling is dance in the physical form. There's no exclusivity in that, and there never should be," he says.
"For me contemporary dance is barefoot, on stage, or barefoot on the land if we're talking culturally.
"That's for everyone. You don't need anything. You only need your body. You can be any shape or size, and have any idea, and it's all valid and it's welcome."
Bonachela agrees: "It is for everyone. It is open. It is not rigid. There isn't a hierarchy."
If it still feels a bit intimidating, Ogai's advice is to remember that the world of dance is full of people just like you.
"We're all very normal in this world, it's not a separate place. We're very disciplined and everything, but still human," she says.
"We all wake up in the morning and have a coffee and eat breakfast and worry about our day and then come home and watch MasterChef."
This month Ogai is presenting a work in Bodytorque, The Australian Ballet's choreographic development program, showcasing works by the company's dancers but also external emerging choreographers.
She says the work, titled in time, is about "the relationship of music and dance, and them leaving space for each other, and what it looks like when they're on top of each other".
"Bodytorque is a new opportunity, even for the dancers and the choreographers. We're trying new things — we're not fully formed choreographers yet, we're learning and practising," she says.
"The audience can approach it in that way as well. It's an experiment for everyone."
A collaborative experience
Contemporary dance involves a whole lot more than dance alone.
Bonachela describes his current production, Impermanence, as a "multi-disciplinary collaboration".
It began with a conversation with Grammy Award-winning composer Bryce Dessner, whose name you might recognise from rock band The National.
The pair wanted to collaborate, and wondered: what could inspire both music and dance?
After the Notre Dame fire, and the 2019 bushfires in Australia, they found their answer.
"Life became a trigger for art and for music. The idea of impermanence is as devastating as it is beautiful, because change brings new life. That became the seed for the work," Bonachela says.
Sydney Dance Company's ensemble shares the stage with the Australian String Quartet — musicians Bonachela says are "beyond anything I've ever experienced".
"Technology, visual art, design, fashion, movement, sound, voice — it's all part of contemporary dance. You can embrace the richness of all of that," Bonachela says.
Post-lockdowns, the communal experience of seeing live performances has taken on new meaning for many people.
Riley says dance provides the special experience of connecting to something bigger than yourself.
"There's a sense of community in what's happening on stage, and the connection between an audience and a performer. That can't be replicated via Netflix or Stan or Binge," he says.
"That live, physical, spiritual, emotional connection between a performer and an audience is one you can only get when you go to the theatre."
Ready to watch some dance?
If there is a little part of you that's saying, 'This actually sounds pretty cool, maybe I should give this contemporary dance thing a go', trust in that.
"I always say that there are so many people walking the streets of Australia who don't know yet that they like contemporary dance," Bonachela says.
"Sometimes it can seem like something that's difficult to connect with, but that's not true. Dance can connect with everyone.
"There is no language barrier with dance. It is the body in poetry, and we all understand the body. We are all fascinated by what the body can do."
