Extraordinary Essay

 

Phillip Russomanno

November 19^th, 2024

Embodied Movement

Dr. Morejón

Final Paper

 

Introduction

At first, stepping into the world of dance felt like venturing into foreign territory. My only real connection to it was through an ex-girlfriend, a professional dancer with a BFA, who lived and breathed movement in ways I barely understood. I remember her auditioning for Pilobolus, talking about technique and artistry that went over my head entirely. To me, a business student, dance was an unfamiliar language; its rhythm, structure, and even its vocabulary felt distant and intimidating. Each new term, from "levels" to "kinesphere," seemed to pull me further from the organized, predictable world I was used to. I often found myself feeling out of place, grappling with concepts that felt abstract, and intangible compared to the precision and logic of finance.

Yet, slowly, I started finding a rhythm within the chaos. As the classes went on, I began not only to understand the terms but also to connect with the meaning behind them. The language of dance started to feel less foreign as I began to recognize the nuance of free and bound flow, the importance of weight shifts, and the way energy shaped each movement. Just as I felt I was finally becoming attuned to this new art form; an injury brought my physical participation to a halt.

What initially felt like a setback quickly transformed into a pivotal shift in perspective. From the sidelines, I learned to see dance in a different way, one that wasn’t just about physicality but about presence, emotion, and intention. Observing my classmates, I began to appreciate art on a deeper level, understanding the unspoken language of movement through reflection rather than action. This unplanned pause in my journey allowed me to see that the real challenge wasn’t in perfecting technique but in embodying the resilience, fluidity, and openness that both dance and life demand.

 

Before the Injury: Poetry in Motion

 

Reflecting on each class through the lens of someone who came from an athletic background yet had no experience in dance, I found that the challenges and insights I gained from physically engaging in the movements were profound and humbling. As a business school student, I am used to structure, linear thinking, and outcomes, but dance required me to embrace ambiguity and express creativity in ways that were unfamiliar to me.

Class 1: Elements of Dance - Space & Place

In this introductory class, we explored the foundational elements of dance, including space, place, and direction​. Coming from athletics, I was familiar with controlling my personal space, yet dance asked for more. I had to learn to move in relation to others, not just within my own kinesphere. Moving forward, backward, and diagonally with intention felt similar to maneuvering on a sports field, but the fluidity required in dance was new. In sports, my movements had always been forceful and direct, but in dance, I had to let go of that rigidity and become attuned to the music and space around me. As someone used to strict game plans, it was eye-opening to realize that movement in dance is not just about execution, but about responding to the flow of the environment.

Class 2: Levels and Directions

In this class, we focused on levels; high, middle, and low—and how our bodies relate to gravity​. Physically experiencing these changes in elevation brought a deeper understanding of balance and strength. As a former athlete, I relied on explosive strength to jump or dive, but here, I had to refine that power into controlled and graceful motions. Lowering my body to the ground in dance felt akin to stabilizing a squat in the gym, but with an added layer of expression. I wasn’t just lowering my center of gravity for practicality; I was learning to move with emotional intent and flow. For the first time, I saw movement as an emotional narrative, not just a physical one.

Class 3: Size and Inside-Out Dancer

Exploring the concepts of size and the "inside-out" versus "outside-in" dancer was especially transformative​. As an athlete, I was used to playing "outside-in," reacting to external cues from teammates or opponents. In dance, the challenge was to move from within, expressing something internal. Physically experimenting with large and small movements felt freeing, yet also uncomfortable. The inside-out approach asked me to tap into emotions before I moved. This was a stark contrast to the external stimulus-driven reactions I was used to. It required a different kind of focus; a mental shift from strategic thinking to emotional release.

Class 4: Focus

Focus, both as a mental discipline and physical alignment, was a crucial lesson​. In sports, focus is tactical, usually directed at a goal or opponent. In dance, however, focus involves an internal awareness of the body and the outward gaze that directs movement. Physically, learning to focus while shifting between single and multi-focus movements required a new kind of mental agility. I realized that focus in dance was not just about where my eyes landed but how my entire body moved in relation to that focus. This experience reinforced the importance of presence—not just in the mind but through the body’s movement.

Class 5: Time

The concept of time and tempo in dance was similar, yet strikingly different from how I approached timing in athletics​. As an athlete, timing was always about speed and quick reactions. However, in dance, time could be fast or slow, deliberate or rushed, and learning how to adjust my energy to match the tempo of the music was a revelation. Experiencing fast, sharp movements felt natural, like a sprint, but sustaining slow, fluid movements over time challenged my endurance in a new way. It taught me to appreciate the balance between control and letting go; an essential skill in both business and dance.

Class 6: Breath

Using breath to guide movement was a novel concept that directly impacted how I experienced motion​. In athletics, breath is often a tool for endurance and power, but in dance, it became a source of fluidity. Synchronizing my inhale and exhale with the rise and fall of movement made me more aware of the body's natural rhythm. It felt like a bridge between my athletic stamina and the grace required in dance. The ability to breathe life into movement also showed me how dance is less about muscular force and more about a continuous flow of energy.

Class 7: Energy

This class on energy was particularly enlightening for me as someone used to maximizing physical output​. Dance, like sports, requires energy, but here I had to learn to modulate it, moving between sharp, quick actions and smooth, sustained ones. Physically experiencing these contrasts was a reminder that not all energy needs to be expended at once. The athletic drive to go all out in every move had to be replaced with a more measured approach, understanding that energy is about how movement happens, not just that it happens.

Class 8: Tension

The tension class introduced me to the idea that tension is not simply about exerting force but maintaining connection​. As an athlete, tension was usually a matter of muscle work, preparing for a sprint or heavy lift. In dance, however, tension became a form of communication, whether with the music, the space, or a partner. Experiencing tension physically, particularly in paired exercises, made me more aware of the fine line between control and release how tension can be both supportive and restrictive depending on how it’s used.

Class 9: Weight

In this session, we explored weight and its relationship to gravity​. As an athlete, I understood weight in terms of grounding myself for stability, but dance asked me to go beyond that. The concept of lightness and resiliency pushing off the ground with strength and rebounding with ease, gave me a new appreciation for the delicate balance between force and weightlessness. I found that controlling my weight through dance required more than just physical strength; it required an acute awareness of how gravity interacted with my body in motion.

Class 10: Laban's Cube

Laban's cube offered a geometrical approach to understanding space and movement​. The idea of moving through a three-dimensional space, with awareness of the axes and directions, was intellectually stimulating but challenging to execute. As a business student, I appreciated the structured approach Laban provided, yet physically moving through the cube required me to break free from my habitual ways of thinking and engage in more creative, spatially aware movement.

Class 11: Bound Flow

Bound flow, characterized by controlled and intentional movement, was a natural fit for my athletic instincts​. Physically, it felt familiar, similar to bracing for impact or controlling a sprint. Yet, dance demanded more than control; it required an emotional connection to the movement. Understanding how to physically experience bound flow helped me appreciate the beauty of limitation, and how controlling movement could also be a form of expression rather than just functional strength.

Class 12: Afro-Moves

Afro-Moves introduced me to a cultural and historical aspect of dance that I had never encountered before​. The movements in this class were both athletic and fluid, a combination of fight and dance, much like capoeira. As a former athlete, I enjoyed the physical challenge, but it also taught me to respect the deeper cultural significance behind each move. The energy and spirit required to execute these movements showed me that dance is not just about technique but about embodying history and community.

Class 13: Free Flow

Free flow, in contrast to bound flow, allowed for more emotional and physical release​. Experiencing this physically was liberating, yet uncomfortable at first. As an athlete, I was used to controlling every movement, but free flow asked me to let go. It was a lesson in trust—trusting my body to move intuitively and express emotions without restriction. This class helped me break free from my need for control and embrace the unpredictability of movement.

Class 14: Free and Bound Flow

The contrast between free and bound flow taught me how to balance control with freedom in movement​. As I physically engaged with both extremes, I found myself moving between familiar athletic control and new, more vulnerable ways of expression. It was in this class that I fully realized the emotional depth of movement; the push and pull between restriction and release mirrored my own journey through this course.

Class 15: Efforts

In this final class on Laban's Efforts, I physically experienced the eight effort actions; floating, punching, gliding, dabbing, flicking, slashing, wringing, and pressing​. As a former athlete, I was familiar with some of these movements, but the subtle differences in intention and energy made all the difference. I had to let go of my old habits of thinking in terms of pure force and instead think of movement as a spectrum of effort and expression. This class encapsulated the entire journey of this course: from being physically adept to understanding how movement is both a physical and emotional expression.

Overall, each class revealed layers of complexity in movement that I had never considered before. As a former athlete and business student, dance challenged not just my body but my mind, showing me that physicality is only part of the equation—intention, emotion, and creativity are equally important in the art of movement.

 

Injury and Observations

I had finally reached a point where performing felt natural; where every movement in my solo, each ensemble cue, felt synchronized with my thoughts and emotions. I could sense my energy in space, how my weight shifted just right, flowing as if my whole being was in harmony with each breath. The rehearsals had become more than just practice; they were an expression of everything I wanted to convey on stage, the culmination of countless hours of focus, building skills, and finding confidence from within rather than outside myself​​​.

But just when I felt ready to embody everything I’d worked toward, an injury and the inevitability of surgery halted that momentum. The sudden change felt like having my story interrupted mid-sentence. I had to adjust from the world of doing to the world of observing, shifting from the immediacy of performance to the quietness of watching and learning from a distance. Moving from expression to observation required strength and resilience of a different kind, a shift in focus to accept this new role and find purpose in it. I had to let go of the dance as a physical outlet and start internalizing what I saw, becoming an inside-out dancer in a whole new way​​​.

This new reality gave me a chance to re-imagine what it meant to be an "inside-out" dancer. No longer able to rely on the physical immediacy of movement, I turned to the challenge of absorbing the dance from an observer’s perspective and using it to feed my inner world of expression. Watching my peers move, I studied how they brought breath into motion, how they grounded their weight in the floor, how each gesture carried purpose and emotion. My focus shifted to capturing that essence within myself, to experiencing the dance as if it were happening through my own muscles and spirit, even while my body remained still. It was a different kind of flow; one that existed internally, as I pulled the energy and intention, I saw around me into a mental and emotional rehearsal.

As I observed, I found myself compelled to think creatively about applying these concepts in ways that were new, perhaps less bound by the literal but rich with expressive possibility. I explored how rhythm, weight, and focus might transform when expressed from within rather than through the body. Could I imagine the feeling of gliding, pressing, and floating as vividly as if I were dancing them? I began to see this phase as a chance to deepen my understanding, to let the external movements I watched translate into a more profound, intuitive grasp of their emotional weight. By thinking through the vocabulary of movement internally, I was preparing to return to the studio with a refreshed perspective, one where my approach to dancing from the inside-out would be more intentional, blending the analytical and the expressive into a richer, fuller experience. With that being said, these have been my observations through a few key and poignant pieces of knowledge during this transitional period.

 

Compositional Forms

For this class, viewing dance as an observer highlighted a fascinating parallel with music, especially in how performances are crafted structurally and emotionally. As a fan of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, I recognized a similar use of the ABA structure in our dance compositions, something the band often integrates into their music. Anthony Kiedis draws from the narrative of his poetry to capture the raw, layered experience of 1970s and 1980s Los Angeles, with all its beauty and struggle; from relationships to the nightlife at the iconic Rainbow Club, and the intense undertow of addiction. This structure, pairing contrasting and repeating sections, allows music (and dance) to explore a story in a way that builds and resonates, combining vulnerability with intensity. Watching our dances unfold in this structure, I could see how each movement and transition brought out an emotional dimension, much like Kiedis’s lyrics do for his music.

As I shifted from performer to a coach in our ensemble, it was rewarding to help stitch together our team’s movements into a cohesive narrative, blending what we’d learned about rhythm, weight, and direction throughout the course. Observing from a coaching role, I was able to offer guidance on translating each movement so that it resonated with everyone in a way that felt unified. This role gave me a new appreciation for the craft—our group achieved a genuine synergy, a connection that showed in the final presentation to the class. It was incredible to see everyone perform in sync, as if each dancer were a note in a larger, harmonious composition. This experience taught me not only about dance but about collaboration and interpretation, blending my love for music with a fresh perspective on movement. The transition from performer to observer has been enlightening, giving me a richer, more holistic understanding of art.

Voice Observations

The voice class was particularly captivating as we observed a solo performance by Jorge that illustrated the unique power of movement and voice to tell a compelling story. His interpretation extended beyond pure physical gestures, integrating subtle vocal sounds that deepened the emotional impact and drew us into the narrative. This combination of voice and movement added a layered texture to the performance, showing how voice, even in small intonations or sounds, can amplify the intent behind each gesture. It revealed that dance can be more than a visual experience, it can resonate on multiple sensory levels, creating a more immersive and dynamic form of storytelling.

The use of voice emphasized key points in the story, bringing moments to life with an immediacy that physical movement alone might not have achieved. This approach connected with concepts we’ve learned throughout the course, such as using energy to focus and combining flow with grounded, purposeful movement. Observing how these elements worked together underscored the potential of the voice as an extension of the dancer’s body, not as a separate entity but as an integrated tool for expression. This performance truly showcased the artistry and versatility of dance when it embraces multiple forms of expression, transforming a solo piece into an engaging, multi-dimensional experience. Seeing this full solo performance in a new light after studying these concepts made it both inspiring and instructive, demonstrating the expressive power that lies in combining voice and movement.

 

Hero’s Journey

My journey in this course has been a winding emotional roller-coaster, with unexpected twists and challenges that reshaped my initial intentions and left a lasting mark on my perspective. When I first enrolled, it was, admittedly, to impress my then-girlfriend, a professional dancer. But shortly after, our relationship ended, and I found myself questioning whether to continue in the class or swap it for something more conventional in business school. As valedictorian of my MBA program, it would have been easy to stay in my comfort zone. Yet something in me sensed this was a chance to stretch beyond the familiar, to broaden my own sense of self-expression and resilience.

Without the person who inspired me to start, I had to dive into this course without the “mentor” I expected. Surprisingly, the community I found in my classmates and our professor offered support in ways I hadn’t foreseen, pushing me to stay committed. Just as I felt my footing in the class solidify, life threw another curve-ball: I broke my foot. I was sidelined from the physical component of dance, left to grapple with whether to continue. Instead of quitting, I chose to shift my focus, observing from a new lens, absorbing lessons in movement, teamwork, and resilience that went beyond what I initially imagined.

Now, as I wrap up this transformative semester, I’m preparing to take these insights back to New York City and my role on Wall Street. I’ll carry forward everything I learned about presence, rhythm, and expression, lessons that transcend dance and prepare me to bring an authentic sense of self to boardrooms and presentations. This journey, with all its highs and lows, challenged me in ways I never anticipated, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Each step, every challenge, deepened my appreciation for the art of movement and for the resilience that lies in pushing beyond what we think we’re capable of.

Observing the journeys of my classmates in this course opened a space within me for vulnerability, something I rarely experience in the business world. In dance, everyone brings their own unique history and emotions to the floor, each person revealing a piece of themselves through movement. I watched others confront their own fears, insecurities, and breakthroughs, and the openness with which they embraced these challenges felt transformative. Seeing their courage to push through discomfort allowed me to drop the guardedness I often carry in high-stakes environments, where vulnerability is seldom welcomed or even possible.

In the business world, we’re conditioned to present a polished, unbreakable exterior; showing vulnerability is often perceived as a weakness. But here, I realized that vulnerability isn’t just a personal quality, it’s a powerful connector. In seeing others navigate their journeys with authenticity, I felt more comfortable shedding the protective layers and engaging honestly, without fear of judgment. This course became a rare opportunity to bring my full self into a room, allowing me to share, connect, and be seen in ways that feel foreign yet deeply fulfilling. This experience has not only enriched my understanding of dance but also shown me that true strength often lies in the willingness to be open and real.

Rehearsal

Watching my classmates perform their solos was both inspiring and profoundly reflective, offering a chance to see not only their journeys but my own growth through a new lens. Each dancer brought a unique, personal expression to their movements, creating pieces that felt alive with emotion and intention. The depth of their creativity was palpable in the way they incorporated elements like focus, energy, and flow. Through their performances, I could see the inside-out approach we learned in class in action, where each gesture was an outward expression of something felt deeply within. Their dedication reminded me of my own progress and the path that had shifted from physical engagement to the art of observation.

As I sat on the sidelines, unable to dance but fully immersed as an observer, I reflected on how my journey had evolved. Initially, I focused on the technical side of dance: mastering form, timing, and energy. But being removed from the physical aspect allowed me to understand the mental discipline and emotional connection that my classmates brought to the stage. Observing them handle soft, sustained movements or sudden, powerful energy shifts opened my eyes to the subtleties of expression and the power of intention behind every motion. I realized that while I might not be physically dancing, I was still on a journey of growth, learning to see and interpret dance in a more nuanced way.

In each performance, I witnessed a rich spectrum of expressive potential, and it made me more appreciative of the emotional layers within the art form. This transition from dancer to observer deepened my understanding and appreciation of dance, challenging me to approach movement with a fuller awareness of its meaning. My classmates’ ability to translate their inner worlds into captivating performances reminded me of the strength, resilience, and creativity I had developed in my own way. Their solos, tailored to their personal styles, didn’t just show their progress, they illuminated my own, helping me see that even in stillness, I was moving forward.

 

Takeaways and Realizations

 

When I first started this course, I was uncertain about how movement could apply to my career in finance. Wall Street is a world of sharp suits, hard numbers, and intense negotiations, on the surface, an environment as far from dance as one can imagine. Initially, I wondered if this class would ultimately be more of a personal experience than something that could inform my professional life. Movement, rhythm, flow, these seemed like concepts better suited to creative or physical industries, not the fast-paced, high-stakes world of finance. I approached the class with curiosity, hoping to gain some new perspectives, but not entirely convinced I could use the principles in my field.

Ironically, it was my injury that transformed my understanding of what movement could mean beyond physical. Being forced to observe rather than participate allowed me to see dance in a different light, revealing movement as something that could impact mental and emotional presence as well. I saw how focus, energy, and flow were not only vital to dance but could be channeled into any setting. Each time I watched my classmates perform; I witnessed the power of intention behind every gesture. This observation shifted my perception, showing me that while I might not be using literal dance moves in my career, I could apply these principles of presence and expressiveness to my role on Wall Street. The injury became an unexpected gateway to understanding movement’s relevance in non-physical ways.

Through the setbacks, I also learned about resilience and adaptability, qualities essential for both dancers and professionals in high-pressure fields. Dance requires a sensitivity to timing, an awareness of balance, and an ability to stay centered even when things don’t go as planned. These are qualities that align perfectly with the demands of finance, where each decision has weight, and timing can make or break an outcome. This realization was eye-opening; what I initially saw as a barrier between dance and finance turned out to be a bridge. By practicing mental focus and embracing the flow of each moment, I found that I could bring a more centered, grounded approach to the world of finance, one that allowed me to be present and intentional in ways I hadn’t considered before.

This course and my journey through it have been transformative. Embodied movement practices have taught me that movement isn’t limited to physical expression, it’s a tool for enhancing presence, creativity, and resilience. In my future career, I will carry forward this new understanding of movement as a dynamic part of my communication and leadership style. As I transition from student to professional, I now see that what I learned here is not just about dance but about how to embody confidence, manage energy, and project a steady, engaged presence. This experience has expanded my understanding of movement and shown me that the skills we practice in one area of life can bring unexpected strength and depth to another.

As I am preparing to step into my career, facing Fortune 500 CEOs across the boardroom table, I carry with me a new understanding of what it means to be fully present. Embodied movement has taught me that success isn’t just about the words we choose or the strategies we execute about how we communicate through our entire being. Sitting across from top executives, I can bring a grounded, focused presence that goes beyond professional polish, an awareness of my posture, my breath, and even the subtle cues that can convey confidence, openness, or strength. These insights, shaped through embodied movement practices, allow me to project a calm yet powerful presence, to listen with intention, and to respond with clarity, all of which can transform even the most high-stakes interactions.

Jorge’s guidance and the shared journey with my peers in this course have shown me that movement is a powerful, often overlooked aspect of effective leadership. Whether it’s drawing on the stability of bound flow, the openness of free flow, or the expressive potential of intentional focus, I now understand that movement can inform the way I lead, negotiate, and collaborate. My experience in this class has broadened my vision of what it means to be a businessman. This knowledge, gained in the dance studio, will be invaluable as I work to make an impact in the financial world. Thanks to embodied movement, I am ready to bring a new level of awareness, presence, and authenticity to every space I enter, prepared to lead with both head and heart. All in all, the journey of life is not a straight path, but the experiences in moments of darkness are what makes life truly beautiful. This experience has provided me with a proof of concept of this saying and I cannot be any more thankful for the opportunity to share it with this wonderful group of individuals.

 

Appendix Solo Explanation

 

Original Solo Dialogue pre-injury

 The Path Through Darkness

Two paths, parallel, lead in a single direction,
Then split and merge as one.
A bright meadow fades into a darkened forest.
As I journey deeper into the unknown,
Once-friendly surroundings turn hostile,
And I question my purpose, my desire to press on.
Should I turn back, retreat to the comfort I knew?
No, there is no path to nirvana but through the darkness,
Through shadows ahead and behind.
I push forward, embracing the mysteries of the universe,
Led onward to what awaits,
A sight for tired eyes.

Synopsis

In The Path Through Darkness, I set out on an inward journey that echoes the winding paths of life, leaving behind the familiar comfort of light to venture into shadowed, unknown territory. As I travel deeper, the once-friendly landscape shifts, becoming challenging and unwelcoming. Doubts creep in, and I’m tempted to turn back to the safety of what I know. But ultimately, I choose to press forward, embracing the mysteries that lie ahead. Through this journey, I discovered that true growth and enlightenment are only possible by facing and moving through the darkness. This personal path of resilience and curiosity leads me to a deeper understanding of clarity and peace, proving that sometimes the only way to find light is to journey through the shadows.

 

Song Choice “Ghost on the Mend” By Magic City Hippies

"Ghost On The Mend" perfectly encapsulates my personal journey in this course and the themes of my own hero’s journey.  As the song describes, the protagonist chooses to disconnect from the past, refusing to be held back by memories. Similarly, I decided to let go of those attachments and expectations, choosing to pursue the course for my own growth rather than to please someone else. My injury became a turning point, a moment to redefine why I was here and to confront my own doubts and limitations. Instead of seeing my injury as a setback, I took it as a chance to embrace a new path, to find purpose and resilience in solitude and observation, much like the protagonist who decides to move on alone.

"Ghost On the Mend" mirrors the process of overcoming personal ghosts and finding strength in independence. Just as the protagonist decides to stop answering to the echoes of the past, I too released the need to prove myself through someone else’s lens. This journey became about embracing uncertainty, finding clarity, and moving forward on my own terms. In the end, "Ghost On the Mend" resonates deeply because it symbolizes not only the courage to let go but also the power to step into a new, self-defined future, which is exactly what this course and journey have led me to embrace.

 

 

Bonus: A Haiku I had Published With Similar Themes

Title: Ascension from the Depths of the Unknown

Plunge into darkness
Doubt engulfs body and soul
Light above makes whole