Seeing With the Heart: The Aesthetics of Dance/Movement Therapy with Older Adults and People With Dementia

Donna Newman-Bluestein

INTRODUCTION

After almost 30 years of practice as a dance/movement therapist, as I began working exclusively with older adults and especially those with advanced dementia, I found myself wondering about the role of aesthetics in my practice. Because there was little that looked or felt like dance—only the most minute movements, barely expressive, and lacking much physicality or beauty—I was no longer experiencing aesthetic satisfaction in my work. I wondered where the dance was in this particular dance/movement therapy (DMT) work. Simultaneously, in an online forum for dance/movement therapists working with older adults, we discovered that many of us felt marginalized. Because our work was not in a mental health setting, it was often considered an extension of recreation therapy by other dance/movement therapists. As we shared our strategies within groups and in affecting the environment, I felt validated and began to realize that we actually had much of significance to contribute to the field of gerontology. In yet another online discussion, several of us wrangled with the differences between DMT and other body-oriented psychotherapies, which led to further discussions about the aspects of dance essential for dance/movement therapists to be effective clinicians. It was then that I began to consider how an aesthetic perspective in dance could make my DMT work more effective and fulfilling.

Wondering exactly what my personal aesthetic in dance was, I initially found that reading did little to answer my questions. As a way of grounding this topic experientially in dance, I took a week-long workshop with the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange, seeking to better understand my personal aesthetic. Repeatedly during that week, we were asked both as dancers and as audience members “Where in the piece did you feel drawn in? What was interesting? Exciting? Most memorable? What were you curious about? Which parts had meaning for you? What surprised you?” Those were the questions I learned to ask to discern aesthetic preferences. I have since found this corroborating statement by Alma Hawkins (1991): “The movement event should have the power to evoke an aesthetic response. What is it about a piece of choreography that causes the audience to be drawn into the experience, to respond imaginatively, and to feel aesthetic satisfaction?” (p. 2).

This chapter looks at the specific challenges I faced in my DMT work with people with dementia, elements of my particular aesthetic in dance, and where and how my aesthetic intersects with and supports DMT with people with dementia.

THE CHALLENGES

Looking back at that time when I first began to consider the aesthetic of dance in my DMT work, what stands out in my memory was greeting people as the nursing assistants brought them into one group in particular. This group was my most demanding, as the residents hadsignificant cognitive and physical challenges and were also behaviorally challenging. These older adults were often still wearing their paper bibs from breakfast, with food accumulated on their faces and hands.

As a dance/movement therapist, grooming was not part of my role or training. Yet as I imagined what they might feel like in their skins, practicing kinesthetic empathy as it were and putting myself in their places, I imagined that part of my attention during the group would be on the food stuck on my face, making my face tighter, less expressive. Dirty, sticky fingers would also distract me from what was going on, to say nothing of being a public health hazard. Wondering if this were “part of my job”, I concluded that using a warm, wet paper towel and asking their permission, gently cleaning their faces and hands, restoring dignity to the person in front of me was indeed part of my role.

In addition, the participants in this DMT group did not follow directions or mirror movements, mine or group members’, and generally appeared unaware of one another. They seemed to need individual attention if they were to participate at all. They barely moved. Where was the beauty, the aesthetics, the dance, in this work?