What´s going through my head right now #35

"SPORTS vs. ART"

There they glide along. They take a running start. They leap off, spin several times around their own axis, and crash one after another onto the hard ground of reality. It’s cold, icy, and only a few manage to melt the audience’s hearts. Not to mention the judges.

I love sports; I’ve been a fan of the Olympics for as long as I can remember—probably since I could walk. I’m fascinated by people pushing their limits. For me, it’s about the measurable. And of course, there are sports that are subject to subjectivity and therefore not so easy to judge.

The Winter Olympics are currently taking place in Milan/Cortina d’Ampezzo, and the figure skaters are very much in the spotlight. I’ve been following the sport since childhood—the combination of athleticism and expression, skating to music, has always fascinated me. Much like artistic gymnastics, which possesses a similar aura through its aesthetics and elegance.

Nevertheless, a lot has changed here. The elegance, the almost dance-like, rhythmic, and flowing quality has given way to a succession of extremely difficult moves. In artistic gymnastics, it’s almost exclusively apparatus gymnastics now. Even with someone like Simone Biles, the current gold standard among women, I don’t feel that emotional connection—despite all my admiration for the discipline and the enormous amount of work involved. Fascinating. WOW! But emotionally, it doesn’t move me.

In ice dancing, on the other hand, a small revolution is taking place right now.Despite the many technical requirements and subtleties that the untrained eye can hardly discern, there have always been artists among the figure skaters who have understood how to weave everything into a composition and choreography, creating a harmonious blend of dance, technical elements, and music. You forget the time during the four minutes of the free skate and vividly recall the goosebumps, tears, or the moment of holding your breath and the subsequent sigh of relief.

When the famous ice dance pair Torvill/Dean performed Ravel’s “Bolero” at the 1984 Olympics in Sarajevo, it was precisely one of those magical moments. I remember very well how my sister and I wanted to recreate various moments of that free skate the very next day on the frozen lake near our house. I have no idea what that must have looked like, since we weren’t trained figure skaters. But that fascination, those images that still come to mind even when I see a clip of that famous duo today, have left a lasting impression on me.

Since then, numerous other pairs have emerged on the ice dance scene, incorporating classical and contemporary stage dance into ice dancing in their own unique ways. So they didn’t just jump from one element to the next, but wove them together so subtly that you simply followed along as if it were a stage performance.

Filled with expression, dramatic tension, a narrative, and deep emotion.

Just like the French pair Guillaume Cizeron and Laurence Beaudry-Fournier, who ushered in a new era with their elegiac and fluid free dance set to the music of Max Richter’s “The Whale”: steps deeply planted in the icy, smooth surface, a silent glide, twirls, and near-floating movements, with unpredictable moments and transitions that layer over and beneath the music. The required elements become a means to an end, never on display; they enter into a symbiosis and engage in a dialogue—with themselves, with each other, and with the audience—one that leaves everyone holding their breath.

Away from the show-like presence, spectacular lift sequences whose preparation takes far too long and whose conclusion falls far short of the intended impact. In particular, superficial interpretations of dances of all kinds, which only partially work on the ice, are in the majority. Here, in the Rhythm Dance (the short program) of the French pair to Madonna’s “Vogue,” we see what the art is: precisely this ingenious combination. A fusion par excellence. A wonderful symbiosis of vogueing moves and the elements of ice dancing.

It’s not for nothing that the headline says figure skating. But unlike with the men, women, and mostly also the pairs, this doesn’t mean triple and quadruple jumps in every possible combination, which in the end tend to resemble a string of maximum-difficulty elements.

The space in between—that gliding and playing with the music, with the theme you’ve chosen—usually becomes an afterthought, and you find yourself waiting for the next “aha” or “wow” moment. It’s rare for someone to truly connect with me there and take me on a journey.

And interestingly, the audience intuitively senses when something is different. When something triggers such an effect that you can’t resist it and it touches you deep inside.

That is exactly what interests me as a choreographer. Not a string of effects, but the moments when technique and emotion merge. Where the craftsmanship becomes invisible because the story carries it. Where you no longer see how difficult something is, but only feel what it means.

These skaters remind me why I do dance. And they show that it is possible—even within a system of rigid rules and scoring systems—to create art that moves people. That is true mastery.

Yours Jochen, sincerely