I Focus on Artistry Last: The Science Behind Preparing Dancers to Perform

Motor Learning, Skill Development and Performance

I focus on artistry last.

This may seem crazy to many people in the dance industry, but after 30 years of teaching, something has become increasingly obvious to me. Being confident enough to perform requires three things that I believe develop in a particular order: coordination, consistency and confidence.

My three Cs.

We spend an enormous amount of time asking dancers to interpret music, communicate emotion, demonstrate artistry and bring a choreographer's vision to life. But when I strip all of that back, I am left with a fundamental question: does the dancer actually have the physical and technical ability to do what is being asked of them?

Can they coordinate the movement? Can they reproduce it consistently? Can they adapt it when the conditions change? And, perhaps most importantly, do they have enough confidence in their ability to stop concentrating on the mechanics and begin performing?

For me, artistry is the ultimate goal, but it is not where I begin.

The preparation required to create artistic freedom follows many of the same motor learning principles that underpin other physical activities. What interests me is how we apply those principles to dance, particularly when the expectations of choreography extend beyond simply executing a movement correctly.

Coordination: Your brain cannot wish itself into a movement

Motor learning is a process. Although development is not perfectly linear, there are established principles that help explain how we acquire, refine and eventually perform complex physical skills.

Fitts and Posner (1967) described three broad stages of motor learning: cognitive, associative and autonomous. During the cognitive stage, the learner begins to understand the task and organise a movement. Through the associative stage, practice helps refine coordination and develop greater consistency. As the skill becomes increasingly autonomous, it generally requires less conscious attention to its individual components.

These stages are not rigid rules, and dancers may move between them as tasks become more complex. However, the underlying principle is important: we cannot assume that understanding a movement, successfully executing it once and having genuinely learned it are the same thing.

For me, coordination comes first because a dancer cannot consistently reproduce a movement they have not yet learned to organise.

Sometimes age, strength, growth, maturation, fatigue or individual physical differences influence our ability to coordinate movement. A dancer may understand exactly what a teacher is asking for but still lack the motor control or physical capacity required to achieve it.

Think about a baby learning to walk

We would never expect a baby who has just learned to stand to immediately begin jumping. We understand that walking involves a developmental process requiring muscular strength, postural control, balance and the coordination of movement against gravity.

Initially, babies experiment with standing, shifting their weight and taking independent steps. Their gait is often characterised by a wider base of support, shorter steps and considerable movement variability. As they gain experience, their balance, coordination and walking efficiency improve.

What I find fascinating is just how much practice this process involves.

Adolph et al. (2012) observed infants learning to walk during natural play and found that they averaged approximately 2,368 steps and 17 falls per hour. That is thousands of repetitions, constant adjustments and an enormous amount of motor learning simply to develop a movement that most of us eventually perform without thinking.

We don't expect a baby to learn to walk perfectly after a few attempts. We understand that the nervous system needs time and experience to organise the movement.

Jumping introduces additional demands. A child must develop the ability to generate enough force to propel their body off the ground, coordinate both legs, maintain postural control and manage the forces associated with landing. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention identifies jumping off the ground with both feet as a milestone achieved by most children by approximately 30 months, generally after independent walking has developed.

There is also an important physiological distinction. Young children do not develop muscular strength in exactly the same way as mature athletes. Neural adaptations, including improvements in muscle activation and coordination, are important contributors to strength development before puberty. Muscular hypertrophy is possible in prepubertal children, but it is generally less pronounced than in more mature individuals.

This means that developing the ability to jump is not simply about growing bigger muscles. It also requires the nervous system to become increasingly effective at coordinating the muscles, joints and forces involved.

Now consider what we sometimes expect of dancers.

We ask for higher extensions, additional rotations, greater elevation, more complex transitions and increasingly demanding acrobatic skills. But have we established whether the dancer possesses the coordination and physical capacity required to achieve them?

If a dancer cannot consistently control a single pirouette, what exactly are we developing by repeatedly demanding a triple? If they cannot adequately support and control their body mass in a preparatory inversion, why would adding a more complex entry or transition solve the problem?

The comparison is not that dancers learn exactly like infants. It is that complex movement depends on physical capability, coordination, experience and practice. We accept this developmental process when children learn fundamental movement skills, yet we can be remarkably impatient when teaching dance technique.

This is particularly important during growth and maturation. Changes in limb length, body proportions, strength and physical capacity can alter the demands of familiar movements. Research in youth athletic development highlights the importance of considering biological maturation rather than chronological age alone when designing physical training (Lloyd et al., 2014).

Two dancers of the same age may be at very different stages of physical development. One may possess the strength required for a movement but struggle with coordination, while another may understand the movement perfectly but lack the physical capacity to execute it.

Giving both dancers the same correction or simply asking for more repetitions does not necessarily address either problem.

For me, effective teaching begins by identifying what is preventing the dancer from achieving the movement. Sometimes the solution is a technical correction. Sometimes it is a change in how the skill is introduced. Sometimes the dancer requires additional strength, mobility, balance or preparatory experience.

And sometimes they simply need more time.

Coordination is not just about reproducing the correct shape. It is about developing the ability to organise and control the movement.

Only once that foundation is sufficiently established can we meaningfully progress towards consistency.

Consistency: Doing something once is not the same as learning it

Autonomy is a loaded term, in my opinion.

Being able to safely and consistently execute the same skill repeatedly is already immensely difficult. But being able to adapt that skill to different people, spaces, musical demands, levels of physical exertion and the specific requests of a choreographer is considerably harder.

A dancer may demonstrate a secure pirouette during centre practice but struggle when the preparation changes or the turn follows a demanding travelling sequence. A développé may be controlled at the barre but become less stable in the centre. An acrobatic transition may be executed successfully in isolation but become considerably more challenging when incorporated into choreography.

These are not necessarily examples of poor technique. They demonstrate that the demands of a movement change depending on the conditions in which it is performed.

One of the most important distinctions in motor learning research is the difference between performance and learning.

Performance refers to what we can observe at a particular moment, while learning involves a relatively lasting change in the ability to perform a skill through practice or experience. Kantak and Winstein (2012) explain that immediate improvements during practice do not necessarily demonstrate lasting learning.

A dancer might execute a skill beautifully by the end of a lesson, but can they reproduce it several days later without the teacher standing beside them? Can they maintain the same technical quality when the tempo changes or the movement is incorporated into a longer sequence?

This is why researchers examine retention and transfer. Retention considers whether a skill can be reproduced after time has passed, while transfer considers whether learning can be applied under different conditions.

For me, this is particularly relevant to dance because the ultimate purpose of technical training is not simply to produce successful exercises during class. It is to develop skills that remain available to the dancer when they are required in choreography.

Consistency does not mean identical movement

Something I think we need to recognise is that consistency and adaptability are not opposites.

A dancer does not need to reproduce an absolutely identical movement every time. In fact, movement must be adaptable to accommodate changes in tempo, spacing, partnering and the physical environment.

Consider a lift performed with two different partners. The intended choreographic outcome may be identical, but differences in height, body proportions, timing and weight distribution may require adjustments in coordination and force production.

The dancer must maintain the essential qualities of the movement while responding to those differences.

Research into practice variability suggests that introducing different practice conditions can influence retention and transfer, although the benefits depend on the task, the learner and how practice is structured (Caramiaux et al., 2018).

This does not mean that we should introduce endless variations before a dancer can coordinate a basic movement. Rather, I believe variability should be introduced progressively as the dancer develops the ability to manage increasingly complex demands.

A dancer might first establish control of a movement in isolation, then practise it with different preparations, tempos or transitions before integrating it into choreography.

The goal is to develop a skill that is not dependent on one perfectly rehearsed set of conditions.

And this becomes particularly important when we consider fatigue.

Fatigue: Can the dancer still execute the skill when the demands increase?

One of the reasons I began looking outside dance for scientific answers was my interest in what happens when physical demands increase.

We spend considerable amounts of time rehearsing choreography, often repeating demanding sequences long after the dancers have become fatigued. Repetition is an accepted part of dance training, but I believe we need to consider what those repetitions are actually achieving.

A dancer may possess the coordination and strength required to execute a movement when fresh. However, that does not necessarily mean they can maintain the same technical quality after repeated run-throughs, during a long rehearsal or towards the end of a demanding performance.

Research from sport science provides an important perspective on this problem.

Enoka and Duchateau (2016) explain that fatigue is not simply a feeling of tiredness. It involves interactions between perceived fatigue and performance fatigability, including changes in the capacity to perform physical or cognitive tasks.

This distinction matters because fatigue can present differently depending on the individual and the activity.

A dancer may experience muscular fatigue that affects their ability to sustain force production. Another may find that unfamiliar choreography requires greater concentration, while another may experience changes in movement timing or coordination.

These responses should not automatically be assumed to have the same cause.

What research from other sports tells us

Researchers have examined the effects of fatigue on skilled performance across a range of sports, including football and other activities requiring complex technical execution and decision-making.

Sun et al. (2021), in a systematic review of mental fatigue and skilled athletic performance, reported evidence that mental fatigue can negatively influence sport-specific technical skills and decision-making.

This is particularly interesting when we consider what dancers are expected to manage during choreography.

A dancer must remember movement sequences, maintain spatial awareness, respond to musical cues, coordinate with other performers, regulate physical effort and continue interpreting the artistic intention of the work.

All of these demands occur simultaneously.

The research does not prove that mental fatigue affects dancers in exactly the same way as footballers or other athletes. However, it raises important questions about how fatigue may influence technical consistency and performance quality in dance.

Physical fatigue is equally relevant.

Consider repeated grand allegro sequences, sustained balances, demanding floorwork or acrobatic partnering. Each places particular demands on muscular strength, endurance, force production and coordination.

A dancer may have the technical ability to execute a movement once but lack the physical capacity to sustain that movement across the number of repetitions required by the choreography.

This raises a question I believe we should ask more frequently:

Are we training dancers to execute a movement, or are we preparing them to sustain that movement for as long as the choreography requires?

Those are not necessarily the same training objectives.

When repetition stops serving the intended purpose

I am particularly interested in what happens when dancers continue rehearsing after movement quality begins to change.

If a dancer is repeatedly losing control of a landing, struggling to sustain a required position or demonstrating increasingly inconsistent timing, what is the purpose of continuing to repeat the movement in exactly the same way?

There may be situations where practising under fatigue is appropriate, particularly when the goal is to prepare for realistic performance demands. However, that does not mean every additional repetition is beneficial.

We need to distinguish between deliberately developing a dancer's capacity to perform under demanding conditions and simply accumulating rehearsal volume.

The relationship between fatigue, skill acquisition and injury risk is complex. We cannot assume that every technical change under fatigue is harmful or that fatigue automatically causes injury. Nevertheless, fatigue can alter the physical and attentional demands of a task, and those changes deserve consideration when planning training.

If a dancer cannot maintain the intended movement quality under the required workload, we need to investigate whether the limitation is technical, physical or a combination of both.

Sometimes the answer may involve improving strength or endurance. Sometimes it may require changes to rehearsal structure, recovery or the progression of the skill.

And sometimes the most effective intervention may be to stop repeating the movement and address the underlying problem.

For me, this is where sport science can contribute meaningfully to dance training. It provides ways to investigate the demands of performance rather than assuming that more rehearsal will automatically produce better results.

Confidence: Knowing you can reproduce the movement

Confidence is the third of my three Cs because I believe it becomes particularly meaningful when dancers have developed sufficient experience to trust their ability to execute a skill.

There is a difference between hoping a movement will work and knowing that you have developed the coordination, consistency and physical capacity required to reproduce it.

A dancer who has successfully completed a difficult sequence once may understand that the movement is possible, but they may not yet feel confident that they can reproduce it under different conditions.

By contrast, a dancer who has practised the skill, experienced errors, made adjustments and developed consistency across different situations has a stronger foundation for trusting their ability.

Bandura's (1997) theory of self-efficacy identifies successful experiences as an important influence on beliefs about personal capability. Although confidence is influenced by many psychological and environmental factors, this research helps explain why repeated experiences of successful execution can be valuable.

For me, this is where consistency and confidence become closely connected.

I want dancers to know that they can reproduce their movements, not simply because I have told them they can, but because their training has provided evidence that they can.

That confidence should extend beyond the familiar conditions of technical class. Dancers need to know they can adapt when the tempo changes, when they are performing with different people, when they are fatigued or when a choreographer requests a different dynamic or interpretation.

This does not mean that confident dancers never make mistakes or experience performance anxiety. It means that their preparation provides a foundation for managing the demands of performance.

And once that foundation becomes sufficiently established, something important can begin to change.

The dancer can direct more attention towards the artistic intention rather than constantly concentrating on how to execute the movement.

Performance: The freedom to create artistry

Performance is the true goal of an aspiring dancer.

The ability to evoke feeling in an audience, move with apparent ease, interpret musical phrasing and respond to the artistic intentions of a choreographer is what makes dance extraordinary.

But I believe this freedom is earned, and it should not simply be expected.

A choreographer may ask for greater projection, stronger musical accents, a different movement quality or more emotional commitment. These are legitimate artistic expectations, but the dancer still needs the physical and technical resources to deliver them.

If a dancer is concentrating intensely on maintaining balance, coordinating a transition or generating enough force to complete a movement, they are already managing considerable demands.

As motor skills become more established, their execution can require less conscious attention to individual components. Research on attentional focus and motor learning suggests that the way attention is directed can influence movement performance and learning (Wulf, 2013).

For dance, this has important implications.

A dancer who no longer needs to consciously monitor every technical detail may have greater freedom to respond to music, interact with other performers and explore the expressive qualities of choreography.

This does not mean that artistry should be withheld until technical mastery is achieved. Artistic development can and should occur throughout training.

What I am suggesting is that we need to recognise when a dancer's physical or technical limitations are preventing them from achieving the artistic outcome being requested.

Sometimes the problem is not that the dancer lacks expression, musicality or commitment.

Sometimes they are simply not yet prepared to execute the movement with the freedom we are asking for.

And that is a training problem we should be capable of identifying and addressing.

What I believe needs to change

After 30 years of teaching, I have become increasingly convinced that we need to examine how we prepare dancers to move from technical skill acquisition into performance.

We understand that learning to walk requires thousands of repetitions, progressive coordination and physical development. We accept that athletes require specific preparation to sustain their skills under fatigue and changing performance conditions.

Yet in dance, we can sometimes expect increasingly complex technical and artistic outcomes without fully investigating whether the dancer has developed the necessary foundations.

I do not believe that every movement problem can be solved through additional rehearsal. Nor do I believe that every dancer requires the same progression, the same number of repetitions or the same physical preparation.

The dancer in front of us matters.

Their coordination, strength, maturation, previous experience, fatigue, technical development and individual response to training all influence what they can achieve.

For me, the responsibility of a teacher is to understand those factors and use them to guide the development of the dancer.

My three Cs are a practical coaching framework informed by motor learning and sport science, rather than a formally validated sequence of stages. They represent how I approach the preparation required for artistic performance.

Coordination comes first because dancers need to access the movement. Consistency follows because they need to reproduce and adapt it. Confidence develops as they learn to trust that ability.

And performance is where all of that preparation becomes something greater.

I focus on artistry last because I want dancers to have the freedom to truly perform. I want them to be capable of responding to a choreographer's vision without constantly fighting to control the movements required to realise it.

That freedom does not happen simply because we ask for it.

It develops through preparation, practice and an understanding of how the body and brain learn to move.

How do you prepare your dancers to have the freedom to perform?

References

Adolph, K. E., Cole, W. G., Komati, M., Garciaguirre, J. S., Badaly, D., Lingeman, J. M., Chan, G. L. Y., & Sotsky, R. B. (2012). How do you learn to walk? Thousands of steps and dozens of falls per day. Psychological Science, 23(11), 1387–1394. https://doi.org/10.1177/0956797612446346

Bandura, A. (1997). Self-efficacy: The exercise of control. W. H. Freeman.

Caramiaux, B., Bevilacqua, F., Wanderley, M. M., & Palmer, C. (2018). Dissociable effects of practice variability on learning motor and timing skills. PLOS ONE, 13(3), e0193580. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0193580

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (n.d.). Milestones by 30 months. https://www.cdc.gov/act-early/milestones/30-months.html

Enoka, R. M., & Duchateau, J. (2016). Translating fatigue to human performance. Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise, 48(11), 2228–2238. https://doi.org/10.1249/MSS.0000000000000929

Fitts, P. M., & Posner, M. I. (1967). Human performance. Brooks/Cole.

Kantak, S. S., & Winstein, C. J. (2012). Learning–performance distinction and memory processes for motor skills: A focused review and perspective. Behavioural Brain Research, 228(1), 219–231. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bbr.2011.11.028

Lloyd, R. S., Oliver, J. L., Faigenbaum, A. D., Myer, G. D., & De Ste Croix, M. B. A. (2014). Chronological age vs. biological maturation: Implications for exercise programming in youth. Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research, 28(5), 1454–1464. https://doi.org/10.1519/JSC.0000000000000391

Sun, H., Soh, K. G., Roslan, S., Wazir, M. R. W. N., & Soh, K. L. (2021). Does mental fatigue affect skilled performance in athletes? A systematic review. PLOS ONE, 16(10), e0258307. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0258307

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