Lindsay Deitchman

It’s a constant balancing act. Whether she’s choreographing her senior project, rehearsing for Dance Downtown, or improving her overall dance technique, Lindsay Deitchman understands the rigorous lifestyle of a typical college senior–except as a dance major, she is far from typical.

The hallway of shiny linoleum seemed even longer with the bright fluorescent lighting lining the corridor, reflecting off beams of stark, white light. The muffled sound of classical music drifted into the hall through the cracks of closed doors separating two different worlds – one a contained center of disciplined, artistic passion and the other a place of relief, relaxation, and playful banter.

Highlighter pink Nike tennis shoes, leather riding boots, weathered gray ankle-high Converse, and chunky black Doc Martens spilled haphazardly out of a shoe shelf tucked in a corner of the hallway, piling at the feet of the only student in sight.

A head of cascading wavy, dark brown hair slumped against the plain white wall, her oversized, Ohio State men’s charcoal t-shirt blanketing her torso. Lindsay sprawled her legs, clad in knee-length cropped black leggings, unapologetically into the middle of the hallway, just enough to make it slightly difficult for others to pass.

A performer and member of the Ohio State dance department, ranked the number two collegiate program in the nation, Lindsay hurriedly glanced up from her white iPhone 5 as the heavy wood door next to her abruptly opened.

“Lindsay, I am ready for you,” a tall, lean female ballet instructor dressed in all black softly called out, immediately causing the dancer to hastily scramble to her feet and enter the rehearsal room, her thick, black crew-length socks sweeping against the floor.

Lindsay positioned herself in the center of the bright and airy room, the oversized windows surrounding the space allowing rays of natural sunlight to softly cast shadows upon the two figures.

“Tuesday was one of your strongest classes, you are finally learning how to find your center and support yourself,” the instructor encouraged as she grabbed Lindsay’s waist on both sides with two gnarled and veiny hands, correcting her student’s posture while simultaneously poking her abdomen.

“Now try,” she firmly commanded, taking several steps back to clear the dance space.

Taking a deep breath followed by a determined exhale, Lindsay begins to rapidly turn her body a full 360-degrees over and over again, her eyes focused while she keeps her body tight in synchronization, assuring every limb is in the correct place.

“Go outside of thinking about sequence,” the teacher murmured softly, her eyes tightly narrowing as she assesses her student. “It is throwing you off.”

After three more demonstrations, the professor dismisses Lindsay with a subtle nod of approval. Her cheeks, flushed and red, Lindsay swiftly grabs her black leather tote and shouts out a quick thank you, her voice still lingering behind as she has already begun sprinting up to the third floor of Sullivant Hall. It is finally time for Dance Downtown rehearsal.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Lindsay attends her biweekly Dance Downtown rehearsals with a diverse mix of dance students, each hand-selected by their Danish instructor, Ann Sofie Clemensen, after a thorough, multi-stage audition process.

Rushing into the expansive rehearsal auditorium, Lindsay joins the rest of the students as they sit in a dismembered circle in the center of the black floor, waiting for Sofie to direct them.

The all black room at the top of the newly remodeled Sullivant Hall is lit by a row of fluorescent theater lighting, featuring approximately a dozen rows of ascending black folding chairs assembled in the east side of the vast room.

In her soft and girlish voice distinctively marked with a thick Danish accent, Sofie makes a quiet call for the class to begin, and suddenly, all assorted chatter comes to a halt and the mood of the room transitions from casual to serious. A calm intensity spreads throughout the students, an almost palpable feeling that encompasses the entire setting.

One female student, dressed in a black spandex halter-top and cherry red baggy cloth sweatpants cropped at the ankle, stands with her back facing Sofie, and all student eyes in the room center on her.

In a sing-song and rhythmic manner, the student calls out a childlike tune that she matches with coordinated, playful steps.

“Plain-sy, clap-sy, twirl the wheel to back-sy, first the heel, then the knee, then the toe, and under you go,” the lead student chants as the others join in, a bouncing, melodic harmony filling the room. Lindsay is the last dancer to join in the lighthearted, spirited movements, her choreography mirroring the others as they now perform as a complete cohesive unit.

Their limbs flailing, bodies twirling indefinitely through the open space, the orchestrated dance is meant to mimic adults acting like a group of school children, all inhibitions, stresses, and worries released with an unforeseen return to childlike innocence.

“Plain-sy, clap-sy, twirl the wheel to back-sy, first the heel, then the knee, then the toe, and under you go,” Lindsay repeatedly sings, her 5-foot-2 body twisting and turning, attempting to convince an invisible audience she is a child on a playground, the burdens of adult life relinquished from her mind.

Our video can be seen here!

Data:

• 100 students currently enrolled in the program
• dance program is ranked No. 2 collegiate program in the country
• the dance program is partnered with three organizations (DNB Extension, Dance Wellness, EMMA Lab at ACCADA)
• department is accredited by the National Association of Schools of Dance (NASD)
• Dance Downtown is choreographed by 4 renowned choreographers

– Caroline, Leah, & Zoe

Yesterday I attended one of Lindsay’s senior project rehearsals. She had booked one of the rooms in Sullivant Hall from 12:30pm-2:00pm to work with her dancers. She described to the group what her vision was for the number and then began teaching choreography. It was so interesting to watch her vision come to life. She would teach a small part, go over with the group a few times, and then run it with the music. As it began to come together into a cohesive piece, you could tell how excited Lindsay was–which in turn showed on the students’ faces as well.

Again, an update from last week! On Thursday, Lindsay was back in class. She informed us that her grandpa had passed away the week before and she was in Florida over the weekend and into the beginning of the week. Sofie conducted the class as normal and taught the students some new choreography. Because Lindsay missed Tuesday’s class, she had a little bit of catching up to do. We watched her learn new motions, rather quickly, and get up to speed with the rest of the class. The rehearsal focused on the overall number, but Sofie also had them work individually on one section and then show their part to the entire class. As the non dancers in the room, Zoe and I could finally start to visualize the dance coming together which was really cool!

Sorry I haven’t been keeping up with my journal-last week was a bit hectic! Last Tuesday, October 21st, Zoe and I again attended Sofie’s Dance Downtown rehearsal. As we settled in, we noticed that Lindsay was not in class that day. The class continued with normal its normal structure and new choreography was taught. We were able to capture some great audio and multimedia elements for our Sofie module of our project.

Today, Zoe and I met in Sullivant Hall to observe the dance rehearsal once again. Zoe began recording observations for our written story while I used my camera to capture some video and photos. We are having a little bit of difficulty figuring out the camera settings for the dark and oddly lit room. The videos seem to be coming out clear, but we can’t figure out the right setting for the photos.

The dancers practice one portion that they have already learned and their instructor modifies some verbal cues and makes some additional changes. After their group rehearsal, the dancers split up into 5 different groups to practice individual parts of the dance. We were able to get up close to Lindsey and her partner who are creating their own interpretation of this section of the dance.

The teacher came and explained to us that all of these individual “acts” will be occurring at the same time, each representing different relationships between children.

We plan on coming to class today to hopefully get these camera glitches figured out and import some more of our footage.

So sorry I forgot to post about what we did last week! Zoe and I attended the dance rehearsal in the auditorium of Sullivant Hall. We walked in at the start and were able to watch the dancers stretch and prepare for their lengthy class. Zoe and I then switched off writing and taking photos of what we observed.

The dance instructor gave us access to all of these rehearsals and was happy to have us there. We also got to talk to her about what our project entails and she was excited to share her inspiration for this piece with us.

We stayed at the rehearsal for about an hour and got some great footage using my Nikon.

“My legs feel like Jell-O.”

One dancer says to her classmate while slipping off her pink ballet shoes and gliding her weathered feet into her clunky worn down matte black Doc Martins.

“Have you had your ballet midterm yet?” She asked Lindsay while putting on a pair of baggy OSU sweatpants over her skintight black leotard and tights.

“It’s supposed to be at 12.”

Lindsay looks down at her cellphone getting immediately annoyed that it was 12:02 p.m.

“I have rehearsal at 12:15, this better be quick”

“If I eat one more salad, I am going to freak out,” Lindsay’s classmate said to her in a giggly voice, while shoveling a small salad covered in ranch dressing into her mouth as quickly as possible.

“Don’t you have rehearsal soon?”

Lindsay, now even more annoyed, looks at her phone to see 12:05 and rolls her eyes.

A 5 feet 8 inch lean yet strong figure peeks her head out of the door and mutters, “Lindsay I’m ready for you.”

Dressed in all black with her hair tied back in a low, neat bun, her demeanor, posture and voice was too perfect, even by her walk you could tell she was a true ballerina. She stood up as straight as a pin giving Lindsay the queue to stand up straight as well.

Lindsay’s appearance displayed quite the opposite, her long, brown, wavy hair was tumbling down her back almost every piece was out of place. Dressed in an oversized men’s t-shirt that covered most of her tight black leggings and wearing just socks.

“Tuesday was one of your strongest classes, you are finally learning how to find your center and support yourself, when you lose your center you fall out of your turns,” she says to Lindsay as she grabs her waist and pokes her abdomen.

“Now try,” she said.

Lindsay takes a step back and starts turning over and over again, her eyes are determined while she keeps her body tight to assure every limb is in the correct place.

“Go outside of thinking about sequence,” her teacher said to her softly, “it is throwing you off.”

Lindsay nodded her head in approval and thanked her professor for her constructive criticism. She picks up her things and sprints up to the third floor of Sullivant Hall into the theatre for her rehearsal.

The black, square room is dimly lit by the natural light coming through the panel of windows on only one wall. Any other light comes from the seven florescent lamps hanging close against the ceiling.

Students walk in and out of the room forming a dismembered circle toward the center of the black, smooth floor. As they laugh and chatter to themselves, the professor begins to complain about the color of their graduation stoles.

“We’re the arts department, we should have the pink or something. Instead we got the poopy brown color.”

Laughter fills the room as the instructor crosses the line from teacher to friend.

A boy in black sweatpants and a black t-shirt walks in late and gives a disgruntled wave to the group.

“How’s your shoulder?” the teacher asks.

“Eh, it’s just tight today,” he responds reluctantly.

The instructor began to lead the discussion, lightly brushing her overly short-cut bangs across her forehead as quickly adjusted her thick, black-rimmed glasses. She stood up from the ground and pulled on her maroon, drawstring sweatpants.

“Let’s go to the first formation,” she projected.

One student stood in the back of the room, her scarlett sweatpants gathered against her calves. She led the piece by chanting aloud and dancing in simultaneous movement.

As she finished the first count of eight, another student skipped onto the performance area and began dancing right along with the first girl.

Another girl saunters in, following in movement almost like the progression of a flash mob. The next dancer reluctantly runs to her spot, with a look of frustration and confusion.

“Can we do that again? Tess forgot her cue,” interrupted the instructor.

“Tess, remember you go with Charlotte.”

Caroline, Leah, & Zoe

As she quickly tosses her chocolate-brown unruly hair into what resembled a bird’s nest on the top of her head, Lindsay Deitchman swivels slowly on her toes to face her exhausted dancers, letting out an exasperated yet controlled sigh.

“Let’s do it again–from the top.”

The six college-aged dancers drag their bare feet to assemble into their first formation–a staggered and collective unit of bodies hunched together. Three girls stand in the front, followed by two girls and one boy tight behind.

The music, a blend of electronic and tribal static beats, pierces the room as Lindsay simultaneously begins the count.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” she repeats in her firm yet feminine tone as her chestnut brown, bloodshot, makeup-smudged eyes dart from dancer to dancer, focusing in on each individual movement. The wall-to-wall mirrors allow for the quick, occasional peripheral glance at the entire piece. Her eyes strike a sense of relief as the dancers’ bodies rise and fall, their flailing limbs finally reaching synchronization.

Growing up in Westchester, New York, Lindsay’s life revolved around dance from the age of 3. Shuffled from carpool to carpool, her daily routine was a constant flurry of dance practice, school, Hebrew school, and competitions.

“There was never any down time for me as a kid. I didn’t really get to do Girl Scouts or the normal things that kids do with their friends after school.”

Her commitment to dance is evident through her muscular physique and strong stature. Standing at only 5 feet, 2 inches tall, her black, skin-tight leggings hugged against rock hard muscles as they tightened with every step she took– a visible sign of years of hard work and dedication.

After training with numerous studios in New York, including the Broadway Dance Center and Pearl Studios in Manhattan, Lindsay had the opportunity to take her passion abroad.

She spent last summer dancing with the Batsheva Dance Company in Jerusalem where she tapped in to her religious beliefs to find inspiration for her senior project. She is currently pitching her idea to the Ohio State Jewish Studies center in hopes of collaboration.

With plans to pursue a career in contemporary dance choreography, her senior project comes from a culmination of her time abroad, as well as everything she has experienced and learned through her years of dancing.

“Okay guys that’s it for today. Thanks so much, we’re getting there,” she said, her sing-song voice cheery again as she struggles to find a balance between instructor and friend reflected in her childlike yet stern .

The stiff environment immediately shifted to a relaxed and congenial setting, as Lindsay plopped down in the center of the black, hard, shiny linoleum floor, her left hand extending down to her right ankle.

“It’s so hard to take what I’ve experienced and express it through others,” Lindsay muttered almost to herself as a strand of hair escaped her bun and grazed her flushed face.

Switching over to the left side, she gracefully folded her body over her leg. As she took a deep breath, she reached for her thick, knotted bun and untwisted the mangled mess. She lifted her head and brought her feet into a pretzel contortion, shaking out her chestnut tresses.

“Dance in college is more thinking about dance, rather than just doing it.”

Our video can be seen here!

Caroline, Leah, & Zoe

It’s crazy to think that we are in the 7th week of this semester already. Our group has been doing a great job of staying in constant communication with each other and our main subject, Lindsay. Although the communication lines are open, we are finding it difficult to work around her school schedule in accordance with our work and school schedules as well. We are hoping to sit down with Lindsay this week to plan out some definite times and dates where we can observe her in her natural environments.

We have learned a lot from this experience so far. As much as this project was designed to inform our viewers about the dance program at Ohio State, we have also been learning so much. There is so much work that goes into the program, especially during your senior year. Lindsay’s senior project takes up most of her times, whether it’s choreographing the next counts, practicing on her own before teaching, and then actually teaching it to her students. She is also focusing on her school work and extracurricular activities. She also is dancing in a show next month, so on top of everything else, she is preparing for that as well.

Last week, Zoe and I sat in on one of Lindsay’s choreography sessions with her students. We were able to watch her engage with the students as well as lead them in their dance. It was so interesting to see how she balances being a peer and being an instructor to the underclassmen.

The sound of loud, aggressive, menacing piano music echoed off of the wall as we stopped to observe a technical ballet class. We were immediately drawn to this room due to the powerful sounds as the pianist strikes keys all on a lower octave, sending deep reverberating sounds cascading through Sullivant Hall. The tall and willowy dance professor calls out the count in her clear and crisp voice – “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

As we began to observe closer, we watched the students, mainly girls but with the occasional male student, prance around the room in a calculated, precise manner. Their soft pink ballet slippers gracefully pattered against the smooth black linoleum floor. Some of them are in traditional ballerina attire – pink slippers, nude stockings, and simple black leotards. Their hair is all uniformly pulled into tight, unforgiving buns perched sleekly upon their heads, not a single strand out of place. The boys wear black leggings and a black t-shirt. What is perhaps most noticeable is their looks of focus, concentration, determination. The dark piano music stops and starts, the professor offering instruction in between each pause, yet the students never break focus or attention, though their tired faces and wrinkles of concern allude to mental and physical exhaustion. Their arms and legs flow freely, never a choppy or wrong movement. Their rippling arm muscles flash with each and every motion, their strong and lithe bodies perfected after years and years of dance. The smooth, unyielding, black, linoleum floor provides a firm surface for the dance students to glide across – as graceful as black swans silently moving across a dark and shiny sea.

It smells of stale sweat and a waxy fluid from the shiny floors. A tall, gray shoe rack rested against one of the studio walls, casting a smell of dirty tennis shoes reminiscent of a gym or appropriately, a dance studio.

As the class came to an end, the students gathered their belongings. The diverse array of their personalities was portrayed as they slipped back into their normal Ohio State student attire –  neon pink Nike tennis shoes, camel-colored lace up combat boots, olive green ankle-high Converses, and dark leather brown, worn in Birkenstock sandals.

The hallways filled with a rush of dance students, some calling out friendly to others, some finding relief in the crisp and cold water of the silver drinking fountains. As they rehydrated, their body language reflected a sense of relief and alleviation.

A small group of students entered the room led by Lindsay, carrying her laptop and a notebook. The six students took off their shoes, and began to stretch. As they gossiped and chattered about their busy days, Lindsay instructed them to assemble into their first formation. Each student knew exactly where to go, as if they’ve been practicing in their sleep. The room drew silent and all you could hear was the deep thump of tribal-like music and Lindsay’s sequential counting. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” Over and over again. Their bare feet struck the hard surface in a repetitive manner.

The mechanical-esque and harsh movements were very different from what we observed in the previous ballet class. The floor no longer provided a surface to gracefully glide across, but instead a platform for abrupt and quick movement.

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Our video can be seen on YouTube here!

Caroline, Leah, & Zoe