Beyond the Choreography, Part 1: What Will Still Be There Six Months From Now?

Every summer, I watch dancers leave one intensive after another with phones full of choreography, exciting combinations, and beautifully edited class videos.

They've learned excerpts from ballets, worked with inspiring teachers, and experienced the energy that only an intensive can provide.

those expereinces matter.

But every year, I find myself asking the same question:

What will still be with them six months from now?

As someone who now teaches summer intensives, this question shapes every class I teach.

Of course I want students to enjoy the combinations and experience the artistry of dancing. But more than anything, I hope they leave with a few "nuggets"—ideas, principles, and tools that continue to influence their training long after I've gone home.

Because choreography eventually fades.

Understanding doesn't.

When I think back to my own summers as a student, I realize something interesting.

I don't remember most of the choreography.

I remember performing. I remember the challenge of learning difficult repertory. I remember the excitement of dancing alongside talented students and training with teachers I admired.

But what has stayed with me for decades are the corrections.

I remember the correction that suddenly helped me understand turnout in a new way.

I remember the image that changed how I approached adagio.

I remember the class correction that wasn't directed at me, but completely transformed my understanding of my own technique.

Those moments became part of my dancing.

The choreography was part of the experience.

The understanding became part of me.

My own summer intensive experiences were typically four to six weeks long and were connected to professional ballet schools. By that stage in my training, I attended with the hope of one day joining the affiliated company. There was time to rehearse, perform, revisit corrections, and allow new ideas to deepen over weeks rather than days.

My own intensive experiences were also different from many that exist today. Most lasted four to six weeks, giving teachers and dancers time to revisit concepts, refine choreography, and deepen understanding. By that point in my training, I was already an experienced dancer attending professional school intensives with the hope of eventually joining one of their affiliated companies.

While the format of many summer intensives has changed over the years, one thing has not.

The learning that lasts is rarely a specific combination.

It's the principle underneath it.

It's the correction that suddenly makes sense.

It's the concept that changes how a dancer approaches every tendu, every pirouette, and every grand allegro that follows.

As teachers, we have the privilege of giving students more than choreography.

We can give them a new way of thinking about movement.

A clearer understanding of their technique.

A deeper awareness of their bodies.

Tools they will continue using long after the music has stopped.

Perhaps that's the real measure of a successful summer intensive.

Not how many combinations students can remember...

But how deeply their understanding of dance has grown.

So I'll leave you with the question I ask myself every time I teach an intensive:

If my students remember only three things from this week, what do I hope they are?

Because those three things may influence their dancing far longer than any choreography ever will.

In Part 2, we'll explore another important question: What can realistically happen in a one-week summer intensive—and what kinds of learning simply require more time?