Beyond the Ensemble: Crafting Your First Solo
The terrifying, thrilling, and utterly transformative journey from executing movement to authoring it.
You’ve spent years in the studio. You can dissect a phrase, pick up complex rhythms, and hold your own in any ensemble. But there’s a different kind of silence that fills the room when it’s just you, the empty space, and the question: “What do I want to say?” Creating your first solo is a rite of passage. It’s not just about making steps; it’s about finding your choreographic voice.
Start Where You Are, Not Where You "Should" Be
Forget the pressure to create a masterpiece for a moment. Your first solo is a laboratory, not a final product. The goal is exploration, not perfection. Begin with what fascinates you physically. Is it a particular quality of movement—something collapsing, rebounding, spiraling? A body part you feel is under-explored? Start there. Your technical proficiency is your vocabulary; now you're learning to write poetry with it.
The Core Mindset Shift
From Interpreter to Author: You are no longer just solving the movement puzzle given to you. You are creating the puzzle itself. This means embracing curiosity, forgiving "ugly" first drafts, and listening to your instincts.
A Practical Framework: The Four Pillars
1. The Seed
Every solo needs a starting point. This isn’t a narrative, but a catalyst. It could be:
- A Concept: "The resistance of water," "A machine breaking down."
- An Object: A length of fabric, a chair, a light source.
- A Sound Score: A piece of music, a text, ambient noise.
- A Physical Prompt: "Move only from the sternum," "Travel without using your feet."
2. The Container
Freedom is paralyzing without limits. Define your container early:
- Duration: Keep it short. 2-4 minutes is a powerful challenge.
- Space: Will you use the entire room? Confine yourself to a square? This shapes the energy.
- Personal Rule: "I will change levels every 30 seconds." "I will never face the front directly." These constraints breed creativity.
3. The Exploration & Editing
This is the messy, glorious work. Improvise from your Seed within your Container. Record yourself. Watch it back—not with judgment, but with a detective’s eye.
"What moment surprised me? What felt genuinely satisfying to perform? Where did I look like I was 'thinking' instead of 'being'?"Mine the improvisation for "golden moments." String them together. Now you have a rough draft. Edit ruthlessly. Does each movement serve the Seed? If not, cut it. Variation and repetition are your tools for building structure.
4. The Performance
A solo isn't finished until it’s witnessed. Your first audience can be your teacher, a trusted peer, or even your phone camera. Notice where the energy dips, where intention wavers. Performing it changes it. This feedback is essential fuel for revision.
Common Pitfalls & How to Sidestep Them
- Over-choreographing: Filling every second with "interesting" steps creates fatigue. Allow for stillness, for simple walking, for breath. The empty spaces give the movement meaning.
- Imitating Your Idols: It’s natural, but catch yourself. Ask, "How would I execute this concept with my body?"
- Waiting for Inspiration: Inspiration is a result of work, not a prerequisite. Show up, set the timer, and move. Action creates clarity.
Creating your first solo is an act of courage. It will frustrate you, elate you, and teach you more about yourself as an artist than a dozen technique classes. You will discover movement you didn’t know your body could make, and you’ll learn that your most powerful tool is not your flexibility or your turn-out, but your unique perspective.
The floor is yours. What will you say on it?
