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I believe dance, at its core, thrives on connection. While solo work can be deeply personal, partner and contact work unlocks a different kind of magic, one where movement becomes a shared experience between dancers. I’ve always been drawn to partner and contact work in dance because it goes beyond the physical shapes and sequences. There’s something exhilarating about putting your trust in a partner and pushing each other to new physical and emotional heights to adapt in real-time to whatever is happening in the moment.

Image description: Dancers Mo and Jannick in the studio. Mo, a short statured Black woman, tilts to side in her dance wheelchair. She extends her right arm and leg, creating a gap. Behind her, Jannick, a white male standing dancer, slots his right arm through the gap and curves his body low around her.
Rethinking traditional partnering dynamics
A fundamental principle I was taught in my vocational training was the concept of “pelvis to pelvis.” It sounds a bit odd when you first hear it, but it makes sense in the context of how we move together. The pelvis is one of the heaviest parts of our body, therefore by aligning our pelvises as closely as possible, we allow our centers of gravity to meet, making it easier to move together as a unit. The closer we are, the more in tune we feel with one another, making movements fluid and grounded. However, this principle changes when working inclusively with wheelchair dancers.
Since joining the company as an apprentice in 2021, I’ve had the opportunity to duet with Senior Dance Artist and Choreographer Nadenh Poan. In pieces like Frock and Lived Fiction, I’ve learned the importance of adjusting my body to the level of his wheelchair. This requires a shift in how I position myself, from lunges and squats to lower my center of gravity. When my pelvis aligns with the height of his wheels, we can engage in more effective contact work, making lifts and movements easier to execute. Clear footwork and a wide, stable base help maintain my balance, allowing us both to collaborate seamlessly. A good leg workout!
For me, these ways of dueting break down traditional ideas of who can lift or support whom. Everyone has different body proportions, strengths, and abilities, so the idea of “lifting” isn’t always about raw strength. In traditional partnering, the larger dancer often lifts the smaller one. But in inclusive dance, we rethink this dynamic, finding the uniqueness and nuance.

Image description: Nadenh and Emily during a contact duet on stage. Nadenh, a male Cambodian wheelchair dancer, lifts Emily, a non-disabled east-asian woman, on his shoulder. Her arms hold the front bars of his chair a she extends her legs long. Projected behind them the captions read 'taking off in a lift, its her feet I notice, knowing exactly where to land before taking off again, diving onto his shoulder, body long like an arrow on a bow."
Navigating trust and risk
As Nadenh always says when partnering, “it’s not just you and me. It’s myself, the chair and you. A trio, not a traditional duet.”
Therefore trust is vital, especially when lifting or balancing one another as there are more variables to consider. In Lived Fiction, I adapt my body when being lifted into the air and align my weight to find balance points on Nadenh and vice versa, finding micro adjustments when lifting and supporting him. Lifts are never static; they’re dynamic, meaning the positions and balances are constantly shifting. I love an element of risk. Nadenh doesn’t always apply his brakes, which means we both have to find the rhythm of the takeoff and landing together. Our communication is constant when experimenting and creating together, talking through where’s best to place weight, when to pull or push, where to grip etc. The goal is always to move together without breaking the flow of the movement, therefore creating a fluid, seamless exchange.
Moving forward, redefining partner and contact work
Through these experiences working inclusively, I’ve come to understand that partner and contact work isn’t just about executing perfect lifts or positions; it’s about the trust we place in one another and the constant communication required to keep moving together. Every improvisation, every rehearsal, every performance, brings something new which is thrilling and unpredictable to dance and to watch. It’s about reimagining who can support who, finding creative solutions to navigate different body types, and embracing the connections we make when dancing together.
