IN his new movie,”“An Intimate Dance,” Amherst filmmaker Sanford Lewis takes an in-depth look at the art and practice of contact improvisation, a form of movement, he says, that has remarkable therapeutic and meditative qualities. To illustrate those claims, Lewis profiles three local dancers for whom contact improv has been an integral part of their lives.
The film will premiere at the Academy of Music in Northampton March 26 at 7 p.m. It is the main event of the “everyBODYmoves” festival that will take place at various Northampton venues.
Contact is an improvised dance form created by two or more people who keep a physical point of contact between their bodies; it encompasses both inner-focused movement and physicality, such as falling, jumping and rolling, in order to explore the physical relationship between the dancers. It applies the “risky moves” of martial arts, Lewis says, as well as mindfulness techniques.
The development of contact improv is rooted in the early work, in the 1970s, of experimental dancer and choreographer Steve Paxton, who continued his exploration of the form in collaboration with Nancy Stark Smith, the founder of Contact Quarterly, a magazine based in Northampton.
Lewis, 60, an environmental lawyer, has been a contact improv dancer for 20 years, and says it gives his body a much-needed outlet.
“That there is actually a sense of what society has done to people is written in their bodies and can be healed through our bodies,” Lewis said. “Instead of letting my head make decisions leading with what my body wants to do, it’s very balancing for me.
Because of the physical element, he says, contact improvisation is sometimes mistakenly perceived as a sexualized dance form. Though it requires connecting and touching a partner, he stressed, sexuality is not the goal.
“It encompasses the transformative power of movement, touch and play through dance,” he said.
The goal of his new film, Lewis says, is to show how contact improv can change and enrich life as well as promote a connection among people.
Over the years, he’s made a number of other documentaries, all about environmental and human rights issues but, he says, he wanted to make a film that spoke to him on a deeper level.
“An Intimate Dance” includes scenes of contact improvisation in progress, highlighting not only the main dancers, but also examples ranging from its early stages in the 1970s, to footage of people practicing the dance form all over the world. In addition to in-depth interviews, there is a voice-over commentary by Smith College dance professor Chris Aiken.
At the beginning of the filming process, Lewis says, he followed only beginners, documenting their journeys as they learned the dance form. But, after about a year, during which time he worked on perfecting his filmmaking technique, he decided he wanted to do more — to undertake what he calls “a really kind of a deep study of what this is about.” So he expanded his reach to include more-exprienced dancers, including Rythea Lee and Eugene Williams, who appear in the movie.
Lewis had known Lee and had filmed her in the past; he met Williams at a dance “jam” at Earthdance, an experimental dance community in Plainfield.
“A jam is a place where people come together and practice this,” Lewis said.
The 69-minute-long film was partially funded through a Kickstarter campaign, which raised $19,000; Lewis put $20,000 of his own money into the venture.
He turned frequently to a network of experienced documentary filmmakers — most notably Christopher Seward and Toby Shimin. Seward, the film’s consulting editor, helped to edit two award-winning Michael Moore films, “Sicko” in 2007, and “Fire in the Blood in 2013. Shimin, the editor of Buck,” a 2011 documentary that won multiple awards, helped to edit, structure and put the final touches on Lewis’ film.
The new kid
Albert Clement, 47, of Northampton, is one of three central dancers in “An Intimate Dance.” He is an administrator and credit evaluator in the continuing education department at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. When filming started, he was new to contact improvisation.
“I honed in on this one guy, Albert, because Albert was very self-revealing and he’s funny,” Lewis said. “He’s sort of self-deprecating and he really was willing to share his heart and really let us in on his foibles throughout the process.”
In the film, we see Clement as he starts to learn contact improv; it was a journey, he says, that taught him to let himself go and “surrender to being funky.” On screen, Clement dances with different partners as he experiments with new moves. He also provides well-articulated insight into the dance form through his interviews.
“I’ve just noticed the way a grown man becomes uncomfortable in certain situations that in other aspects of his life he may feel totally comfortable with,” Clement said in a recent interview. “But once he’s put into certain situations you notice those feelings of discomfort.”
He compares starting contact improv to what he imagines it might be like to join a nudist colony: At first, he says, all you would see is a group of naked people, and how it presents feelings of discomfort and self-consciousness. Then as intimidation fades, it becomes apparent that it’s OK that someone’s face is different than my face, belly different than my belly or butt different than my butt,” he said. “You’re not just doing the dance for the dance, but you’re doing an interpersonal dance in society … for the pure sake of movement and the pure artistry and expression of it. I found it took me some time to get comfortable.”
The trauma specialist
Rythea Lee has lived in the Northampton area for 24 years. She studied modern dance at New York University and has for six years been dancing weekly with “The Underscore,” an Easthampton group that explores contact improv.
Lee, a trauma counselor with a private practice in Florence, and a performance arts teacher, says contact improv promotes healing. Indeed, for trauma survivors, “contact can be a journey back to your body,” she said in a recent interview. “I teach people how to listen to their bodies and what their bodies are telling them. It’s a practice of saying yes and no in the moment.”
A dance veteran
Eugene Williams, 66, of Conway, says he’s always loved to dance; he learned to do the Mashed Potato back in the 1960s at a James Brown concert. Then he broke his neck in a high school wrestling accident in 1966, and went through extensive clinical rehabilitation in Washington, D.C., where the accident happened. He’s been riding a wheelchair since. And yet, he says, he still loves to move.
In 1977, Williams began working as a disability counselor at the Stavros Center for Independent Living, in Amherst, where he lived. Stavros helps people with disabilities work toward independence and to develop skills to advocate for themselves.
At the time, he also participted in the All Out Adventures program in Northampton, a recreation program of the Massachusetts State Parks system that helps people with disabilities participate in outdoor activities, such as kayaking and skiing.
Then, in 2004, Williams was seriously injured for a second time — his pelvis was fractured in a car accident. He says he knew he’d require extensive rehabilitative treatment, again, but, didn’t want to duplicate his prior experience. He decided to add a new element — contact improvisation, which he studied at Earthdance, with Paxton, who helped Lewis explore his potential for movement beyond the limitations of riding a wheelchair.
The importance of touch was crucial, Williams said in an interview. “Just the fact of being in contact with one or more people in a improvisational way — a touch you don’t get in … kayaking or skiing. Being able to be very active and athletic and to be spontaneous and improvise, it makes you work and experiment and stretch with balance.”
On screen, Williams is seen interacting with dance partners in a variety of ways: At times, he supports their bodies, and they support him as well, often helping him to use his legs.
“I’m in pretty constant pain in one way or another, it’s a logical result of being a quadriplegic,” he said. Whether I have more pain after dancing”, as a result of it or not, before I know it, I get lose as a goose and I feel no pain whatsoever.”
Än Intimate Dance” will be shown March 26 at 7 p.m. at the Academy of Music, 274 Main St., Northampton. The “everyBodymoves” festival will take place March 25-27 at the Academy of Music and at other venues in Northampton. Tickets for the film cost $12; $10 for students and seniors. To reserve, or for more information about the film and the festival, visit anintimatedance.com/everybodymoves.