On Dancing
Marriage, Mass MoCa and Arthur Murray
All Kinds Of Commas is a weekly newsletter about the pursuit of a creative life and all the commas that get us there. My name is Eric Ryan Anderson and I’ve spent the last twenty years exploring the world with a camera and all kinds of good people. This is a space to share some of those stories and look to the future together.
CURRENTLY,
I’m sitting in the lobby of a hotel called TOURISTS in North Adams, Massachusetts. A crunchy layer of frost on a few remaining yellow leaves outside, a crackling morning fire in the fireplace and some fellow early stragglers with their caffeine and laptops, attempting to chip away at whatever it is we’re all working toward.
Amy and I were in Vermont to celebrate our dear friends Steven and Gretchen, who had the most charming wedding imaginable, full of love and family and good food and fall colors and culminating, as many weddings do, with a barn full of people dancing.
Much to the chagrin of my wife, dancing (the wedding type) has never come as naturally to me as it does for her. I’m sure there are some underlying threads of shame or insecurity that I could dig down and uncover, but these days, I am who I am and know that once the dance party starts, the camera provides a nice little shield for me to keep a comfortable distance from the real action.
Alas, dancing can take different forms… And as Amy and I were dancing our way around Middlebury throughout the weekend, we stumbled on a warehouse with a simple “Used Books” sign out front, which is an automatic stop for me.
It turns out Monroe Street Books is a bit legendary around these parts, and I can see why. Stacks and stacks of used books… Sections with titles like “Pirates” and “Transportation” among others. I’ve been to a LOT of used bookstores and this one ranks pretty close to the top.
As luck would have it, I stumbled onto a book called “How to Become a Good Dancer” by Arthur Murray. And yes, it was in a section simply titled “Dancing.” In the first chapter of the book when asked, “Just what is dancing?” Murray posits,
“Dancing is “conversation” to music. When you dance, you express yourself. You hold your partner’s interest through the correct use of musical rhythm, just as in good conversation you hold another’s interest through use of the spoken word.”
Arthur Murray
Pretty specific to actual music-related dancing, sure. But this would be a boring exercise if we didn’t try to find a few disparate connections, right? So might I argue that photography is also a “conversation” between the photographer (or the photograph) and the viewer? As photographers, are we not trying to “hold another’s interest” by communicating some idea through our photographs?
The illustrious photographer Paul Graham has spoken frequently about the idea of photography as a “dance with the world” which is one of my favorite metaphors about what we photographers are called to do. He famously wrote this in his essay entitled “The Unreasonable Apple” and has demonstrated it time and time again in his own practice. He’s out in the world, engaging, wandering and dancing.
Even is his curatorial practice, Graham embraces the concept. In 2021, he curated a group show called “But Still It Turns” at the International Center of Photography in New York. Gregory Halpern, Kristine Potter, RaMell Ross, Vanessa Winship, Curran Hatleberg, Stanley Wolukau-Wanambwa and others participated in this epic cross section of American life, not viewed as some documented object, but as a dance partner. The show was stunning, and if you can find a copy of the book somewhere, it’s a great one for any fan of post-documentary photography.
What a compelling idea for those of us who engage in this medium of photography, especially the kind where you are out wandering the world, not totally sure what it is you’re looking for until you find it. And no chance of finding it unless you step onto the “dance floor” in the first place.
We must leave the house… Get out of the car… Walk behind that building… Talk to that person. Follow your gut and embrace the uncomfortable idea of dancing with what the world puts in front of you. This is inherent in making photographs for oneself. And it’s hardest when nobody is asking you to do it.
If you have read any of the previous posts on this Substack, been on the road with me before or (lord help you) happen to be married to me… You know that this is the kind of dancing I really enjoy… Mapping out a few places, hitting the open road, following my nose and seeing what kind of dance unfolds.
Wandering and photographing doesn’t usually birth pictures that say anything special or move the world in any particular direction… But sometimes all we have control over is our own little piece of reality, and putting aside your distractions and insecurities to get out there and dance will almost always make you feel a little better.
After the wedding, we danced our way down through Vermont, landing in North Adams, Massachussets for a long anticipated visit to Mass MoCa and a dusk viewing of James Turrell’s Skyspace.
Where Paul Graham encourages us to get out and give attention to the dynamic world around us, Turrell achieves the same end through a completely different method. Sitting in a quiet room for thirty minutes, watching a piece of sky seemingly morph into a million colors, while maybe not considered dancing, forces your brain to pay attention and slow down enough to notice what’s actually in front of you. It’s photography. And it’s dancing, even if your feet aren’t moving at all.
And so it is with dancing. If you are too busy thinking about each step — if you are uncertain and timid — you certainly can’t express yourself freely. There will be too many things on your mind for you to be yourself. And being yourself — gracefully, rhythmically — is the whole secret of good dancing.
Arthur Murray
Perhaps it’s about actual dancing, but it sure feels like good advice for people trying to lead any kind of creatively fulfilling life. Stop overthinking it, stop trying to be anyone else, and just go dance.
INTERESTINGLY,
A few things worth checking out this week.
Paul Graham - A Dance with Life A wonderful little profile on Paul Graham and his photography. The Louisiana Channel has dozens of these artist profiles on Youtube, which I highly recommend taking some time to watch through.
Robert Adams - Why People Photograph Adams is one of the greats... and this is a wonderful small book to toss in your camera bag when you’re out dancing. This quote stood out based on today’s post “No place is boring if you’ve had a good night’s sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film.”
Daniel Caesar - Son of Spergy Saw this pop up a few times this week and gave a listen on the flight home today… And then again… And then again. Gospel and R&B and I don’t even know how to describe it. Loving it.
Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus This is a book for kids, and actually part of a trilogy about some middle schoolers in Arizona written by Dusti Bowling. The protagonist happens to have no arms, befriends a boy with Tourette Syndrome and lives at a western theme park. Just finished the second one with my nine year old, who seems to be loving them. Top of mind, as I finish this post a few minutes after bedtime.
James Turrell - Art21 Despite enjoying his work at various installations over the years, I didn’t know that much about James Turrell. There are a few docs on Youtube, including this one that takes you to the site of his massive earth-moving magnum opus in the Arizona desert.
UP NEXT,
Back to work as we head down to Alabama to photograph some farmers next week, then off to dance our way through the UK for a few days!
Thank you for reading this newsletter. If you’re new here, it’s a weekly collection of photography, anecdotes and generally unsolicited advice. A platform for me to share a few pictures and thoughts from this strange, beautiful dance with photography and life.
















9 YEAR OLD?!?! Okay, sorry, not the point. Love this connection-- it makes me realize that all art is a "conversation" between the artist and the beholder. We're all just clinging to whatever medium most resonates with us to convey things like perspective, meaning, or emotion to someone else... be that through dance, music, writing, photography, painting, etc. I think for some of the artists we most admire, they actually have this remarkable ability to "get out of the way," and allow their art to give "voice" to their subconscious.