Forget the Feet. Let’s Talk About the Floor.

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On footwork.

Here we are — the so-called foundation of it all.

I might get a lot of heat for this one, but that won’t be the first or the last time, so ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seat belts — we begin our (body) flight. The sky is crystal clear, and no turbulence is expected, except perhaps the one in the comments section below.

Following the concept of movement of the body in three-dimensional space, we can’t ignore a tiny but obvious thing called gravity. If not for gravity, our movement would be totally different — however, let’s not get our heads too much in the clouds.

Basic rules of physics state that weight is the force that results from gravity acting on mass.

Therefore, it is safe to say that when our weight pulls us down toward the dance floor, the floor pushes us up with an equal amount of force — and we reach a state of equilibrium.

Many dancers think of equilibrium in a horizontal sense; however, most of the time we are actually in equilibrium vertically. This is where good posture and poise come in handy.

Once we understand and sense vertical equilibrium, we gain the sensation of foot pressure.

One might think of foot pressure as the force influencing the foot from above, but what really stops us from defining it as the force pushing us from beneath?

Think of it this way — the floor is forcing us outward; we are not pushing the floor down.

And what is the foot for us, really? The heel? The toe? The bunion many dancers develop after years of not taking care of themselves?

Of course, we’re talking about the sole of the foot!

The logic here is that the sole of the foot is the contact point where the torso — carrying most of the body weight — connects through the legs with the two-dimensional surface of the dance floor.

At this point, we can perhaps make an argument that the term “Floor Connection” is much more accurate than “Footwork.”

As we establish the floor connection between the body and the floor, the legs and feet are merely the conduits — the sole of the foot being the frontier.

“What is the floor connection in this figure, Mr. Smith?”

“Thank you for asking. The floor connection is heel-toe, toe, toe-heel, ma’am.”

Being overly focused on footwork again shifts our perception in the wrong direction and distracts us from the real cause of why the foot is being used.

It’s great to know the description, but if I start describing to my friends how a beautiful yellow Ferrari looks, that doesn’t make me the owner of one — let alone its constructor.

To use the feet, we must be able to use our body properly — be clear about the sequence of actions and the pathways in three-dimensional space, including rise and fall.

After that, we must stay aware of the sensation of vertical weight fall and monitor the three main joints of the leg (hip, knee, and ankle).

Only after that do we come to the frontier — the sole of the foot.

When teaching dancers of all levels, I often refer to the relation of the body to the sole of the foot as that of a jellyfish and its tentacles.

The image is extremely helpful when we imagine the jellyfish traveling up and down in its three-dimensional aquatic environment.

During the descent, the body starts first and the tentacles follow in a beautiful ripple effect — and similarly for the ascent.

Copying that image into ballroom dance:

When we lower, the body lowers first, the legs follow, and at last, the soles of the feet get involved.

When we rise, the body initiates the rise, the legs assist, and the feet are practically forced to follow.

When the conditions for movement are created, all body parts work together in a beautiful sequence.

Bruce Lee famously said, “Be water.”

We can definitely paraphrase that: if you want to produce a heel turn, you — the mind first and the body second — have to become a heel turn, and it has nothing to do with the feet themselves.

Remember, it’s all just an effect — a description from the outside. No one has yet written the manual of the cause, only the effect.

To bend the leg, one must focus on descending the body.

To straighten the leg and go on toe, one must imagine it first, produce body rise second, and worry less about the feet.

Rumor has it that the famous Bobby Irvine used to say a good female partner is “a ghost in a skirt.”

I would follow that logic and say that a good male partner is “a ghost in a suit.”

Gliding through three-dimensional space, not worrying about leg mechanics, fully focused on the hovering torso, detached from the responsibilities of gravity.

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Written by: Iaroslav Bieliei

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