Improvisation is a vital creative activity and performative practice that enlivens and activates the way we function in everyday life as well as in the artistic sphere. As a form of process-oriented artistic practice, it uses real-time creative decision-making, risk-taking, trust, surprise and collaboration. Improvisation teaches us responsibility and the ability to adapt to change. Above all, it develops our capacity for deeper perception.
Why is improvisation as an artistic discipline so fascinating and at the same time so challenging? It requires a skill that is not about technique – mastery, it needs much more complex skills. What is it? From my point of view, it’s as simple as being in the moment and out of it at the same time. And this is the way of challenging that everyone who starts practicing believes in. It takes years to understand step by step what it is for me – as it cannot be described in general terms (even I and many others try to do it).
More improvisation less choreography?
The extremely rapid changeability of our times has taught many to see improvisation as a positive part of life. In the context of artworks, however, the tradition of seeing them as the end result of creative activity still persists, leading to a privileging of the artefact over the process of creation itself. This is due to the prevailing distrust in the value of the spontaneous creative act, coupled with the belief that the value of a work of art lies in its constant refinement.
However, the modernist view that began to develop at the beginning of the 20th century undermined this notion. It focused on new ways of making art that differed significantly from the traditional understanding of artistic mastery. Until then, valued craftsmanship gave way to spontaneous creative acts that became a manifestation of artists’ heightened sensitivity to the social role and importance of art. This sensitivity led to groundbreaking ideas and practices that were re-examined in the mid-20th century with radical results in the form of postmodern art practices.
It might seem that in the 21st century the development of contemporary dance has somehow slowed down. There has been no similarly significant change since the 1960s. On the contrary, there has been a consistent development of a deeper understanding of the ideas with which postmodern dancers and dancers have been concerned. Today, these concepts about movement, dance, and performance are no longer subversive, but neither are they surpassed. We can say that we are at the stage of their increasingly sophisticated application in artistic practice.
Dance practice, based on a close connection between body and mind, is on a different level after a hundred years of expanding methods of psychophysical experience. Although no new dramaturgical formats have emerged and contemporary dance performances are still primarily a collage of images that are more or less linked by a main theme, existing formats are being used in a more sophisticated way. They open up new layers of understanding of the processes of creation and the performative act as a unique event – an encounter between creators and audience that offers the experience of being outside the usual perceptual framework.
Two key features of postmodern dance – the extension of dance to physical movement and the perception of choreography as real-time composition – are constantly evolving. The open form of performance, which allows performers greater creative freedom, is almost invisibly embedded in a more or less rigid dramaturgical structure. This phenomenon continues to influence the way choreography is created, educated and the meaning of the term choreography itself.
Choreography versus improvisation
Choreography is traditionally understood as the artistic process of creating and arranging body movements in space and time, resulting in a dance work. The term itself comes from the Greek “choreia” (dance) and “graphia” (writing), which literally means “writing down the dance”.
In this classical understanding of choreography, it is the creation and fixing of movement sequences so that they can be accurately repeated. In the 20th century, however, the meaning of this term has expanded considerably. Today, choreography no longer refers only to dance – it is also used to arrange the movement of actors in the theatre, to organize mass events, or even to plan the logistics of moving people and things in different situations.
Characteristic features of the choreography
- Movement composition – involves the selection and arrangement of movement sequences, which can be either abstract (focusing on form and aesthetics) or narrative (expressing a story or theme).
- Composing space – the organization of movement in space to be visually and/or emotionally compelling. It involves thoughtful direction of movement, relationships between dancers, and the use of distances (including relationship to the audience), levels, or specific locations of the space where the choreography takes place.
- Composing in time – an arrangement of movement in time that works with rhythm, silence, sounds and music.
- Style – the specific movement forms, qualities, and method of movement production determine the dance style applied to the choreography (e.g., ballet, contemporary dance, folk dance, hip-hop).
- Individual approach – the creation of choreography is always a unique process that reflects the inspiration, personal experience, aesthetic preferences and cultural background of the choreographer or choreographer.
The last two characteristics are particularly variable in contemporary dance and the least predictable for the audience. This has to do with the diversity of creative approaches and the constant expansion of the boundaries of familiar artistic practices.
Nevertheless, a certain routine also appears in contemporary dance. Many creators try to avoid it through the open form of the work. They create performances that do not have a fixed form, but allow performers to make free choices within agreed rules. Paradoxically, one of these rules can be the complete absence of any rules at all – then it is a completely open work.
Choreography versus real-time composition
The contemporary view of choreography prefers to understand it as an act of doing rather than showing. Nevertheless, the creation of performances with a fixed choreographic structure far outstrips the creation of open-form performances using improvisation, even though this type of performance emerged more than seventy years ago. However, there seems to be an increasing interest in this artistic practice. There may be a number of reasons for this, and one of them undoubtedly lies in the fact that a performance with fixed choreography requires a longer rehearsal process, which is more economically challenging. It does not take much to recall the cuts to arts budgets both before and after the covid period.
In the case of the performance called Walking Songs, which I am part, we also used an open performance format due to lack of funds for a longer rehearsal process. However, a shorter rehearsal process does not mean a lesser quality performance, as it requires more skilled and experienced performers. What qualities does a performer or performer need to have in an open form performance? They must be able to compose the dance directly as an artistic statement.
Composing a dance in front of an audience is not the same as simply improvising. Yet, whether a performance follows a fixed structure or remains open-ended, its goal remains the same – to communicate with the audience. In improvised performances, this connection tends to be more immediate and direct than in choreographed pieces.
In Europe, the term real-time composition is often preferred over “improvisation” to emphasize that this practice is not random. Like fixed choreography, it has a clear intention, but rather than being set in advance, it emerges in the moment. The performers create and communicate their compositional choices spontaneously, shaping the experience as they go.
Unlike choreographed performances, real-time composition does not allow for revisions. There is no opportunity to correct or refine – it exists only in the present. This immediacy is what makes it so compelling, both for those who perform and those who watch. In contrast, choreographers working with fixed structures have time to reconsider, refine, and adjust their work. Improvised performance, however, thrives on the very absence of this possibility.
At its heart, real-time composition is a dialogue. The performers’ heightened awareness meets the audience’s open attention, forming a shared experience. This requires the performer to navigate between two perspectives:
- The internal, responding to their own impulses in the moment.
- The external, anticipating how their choices shape the audience’s experience.
For this type of performance to resonate, the audience must be able to interpret what is unfolding. Ideally, they have some familiarity with this or similar artistic practices, allowing them to perceive the intricate decisions happening in real time. Understanding and engaging the audience in this way is an important aspect of arts management, though here, the focus remains on the performers themselves.
The Skills Required for Real-Time Composition
Performers working in real-time composition rely on two essential qualities:
- Compositional Awareness – The ability to apply choreographic tools intuitively, shaping the structure of the performance in real time.
- Internal Readiness – A willingness to break habitual patterns, remain open to the unknown, and engage fully in the present moment.
This inner readiness also requires confidence in direct communication with the audience. Real-time composition is not just about movement – it is about interaction, where every choice carries the potential for meaning. At its core, it demands a heightened state of awareness. Performers must immerse themselves in the flow of sensations, emotions, and impulses while making immediate, conscious decisions about their movement. This balance between intuition and control creates a unique creative tension – an urgency to shape something meaningful as it unfolds. Mark Tompkins, an American performer and choreographer, describes this state as “flux”:
“The flux is the infinity of molecules interacting simultaneously, and the constantly changing states of the sensations and perceptions. Simultaneity is the key to this complexity. There’s no such thing as empty space. The present is never only one thing. Attempting to remain simple while honoring complexity is crucial. Say you’re in nature and a bird is singing and you’re touching a tree and dancing with someone. These sensations are manifestations of that single moment, and if you pay more attention to the bird, you pay less attention to the tree or the partner. There are always sensations it just depends on the awareness you give to them. Everyone has their own filters, no one looks or sees, listens or hears, touches of feels touch in the same way. We develop conscious and unconscious tastes and habits, what we like or don’t like, and if we allow them to dominate or dictate our actions, they stifle our awareness. It’s exciting to feel a sensation and observe how it changes the flux.” (One Shot, p. 24)
Tompkins also challenges the idea that improvisation equals absolute freedom:
“People believe that improvisation equals freedom. It’s absolutely not true. I improvise to observe and be aware of my choices and their consequences. If we touch a partner or an element without any preconceived idea, it’s often followed by a habitual pattern or the expectation of a reward. Really listening is a very complex task of emptying oneself to the instant, and demands a great concentration to remain permeable to the partners and the space.” (One Shot, p. 25)
Listening and silence as creative tools
Musicians, actors and dancers emphasize the importance of deliberate listening in improvisation. It is not simply hearing but a deeper awareness of sound, movement, and interaction.
French philosopher Jean-Luc Nancy distinguishes between hearing and listening. According to him hearing means understanding. Listening, however, implies an intensified focus that sparks curiosity or apprehension. “What secret is at stake when one truly listens, that is, when one tries to capture or surprise the sonority rather than the message? What secret is yielded – hence also made public – when we listen to a voice, an instrument or a sound just for itself?” (The Improvisation Studies Reader, p. 17)
Curiosity plays a key role in breaking habitual responses. It opens up new possibilities, creating unexpected moments that engaged audiences recognize and appreciate.
Famously jazz musician Miles Davis said: “I always listen for what I can leave out.” (The Improvisation Studies Reader, P. 13) For him, silence was as powerful as sound. He used moments of silence strategically, making what was left unplayed just as important as what was played. Similarly, drummer Max Roach had a similar take on creative silence. “Even though I can play all the time and never stop,” he explained in an interview, “silence is just as important as sound – silence separates sounds and makes them into language, just as words do.” (The Improvisation Studies Reader, p. 13)
In dance, stillness serves the same purpose. It allows performers to step back, focus their attention, and respond to the evolving composition with clarity. Stillness is not passive – it is an active state of presence, a moment of heightened awareness within the flow of movement.
Surrendering to presence
Being fully present in the moment is the foundation of real-time dance composition. Improvisers engage in a delicate balance of passivity and activity – surrendering to what is happening while remaining actively aware. This means letting go of control while simultaneously expanding their perception of themselves within the unfolding moment. By doing so, they make more authentic decisions in response to their surroundings.
Mark Tompkins describes this state:
“When a performer improvises, he is simultaneously listening, watching, sensing, acting and reacting to the sensations and the perceptions. The art of real time composition is not so much about alternating roles: passive to active; moving to witnessing; center to support; inside to outside, but to remain open to the wealth of internal and external impulses, and to receive, process and propose material in an uninterrupted flow of feedback. How to be actively attentive, avoid overload, do nothing and still act.” (One Shot, s. 31)
Dancers practicing improvisation understand that authentic expression requires breaking free from habitual responses. An authentic movement arises naturally in the moment, shaped by a heightened awareness of stimuli. However, the body often reacts before the mind fully registers the stimulus, resulting in an automatic, habitual movement.
Habitual responses emerge when the body repeatedly reacts to a particular stimulus in the same way. In the fast-paced nature of dance, where the nervous system processes impulses rapidly, improvisation trains dancers to recognize the difference between automatic and intentional movement responses. Authentic movement is a conscious choice – it allows for a range of possibilities beyond instinctive habits. Theater director Anne Bogart differentiates between reacting (instinctive and automatic) and responding (intentional and creative).
Surrendering to the present moment expands the dancer’s ability to perceive subtle stimuli and intrinsic motivations, making space for authentic movement responses. This strategy does not aim to force habits away but instead approaches them without judgment. By removing labels of “good” or “bad,” dancers cultivate a sense of freedom that is essential to this state.
In real-time composition, surrendering also means accepting the unknown – embracing the fact that in the moment, there is no way to determine whether a choice is “right” or “wrong.” The outcome, whether for performers or the audience, unfolds organically.
When all performers engage in this approach, an almost magical phenomenon occurs: no one controls or consciously constructs the performance, yet everything seems to emerge effortlessly. Tompkins refers to this as The Big Picture – a spontaneous moment of artistic unity where unexpected relationships and surprising situations arise intuitively.
Why I Practice Improvisation and Real-Time Composition
- It challenges me to step out of my comfort zone, helping me grow while staying true to myself.
- Improvisation prevents me from falling into repetitive movement patterns. It teaches me to recognize my automatic responses, pause (inhibit them), and explore new ways of moving. This process, called redirection, is like playing with my own autopilot.
- It deepens my perception of time – not just as an illusion but as an unfolding space filled with endless possibilities.
- Improvisation allows me to clear my mind, helping me escape the constant cycle of thoughts about the past or future. I treat it as a kind of fasting for the mind, reducing its need for constant mental “fuel.”
- It opens a doorway to a reality beyond the everyday – one that energizes me rather than drains me. In this expanded state of awareness, I experience a mix of satisfaction, security, and confidence. It teaches me to embrace the discomfort of being momentarily “lost” without relying on familiar strategies (The Not Knowing Strategy).
- Improvisation leads me to expand the physical space where I dance. While dance studios provide a structured training environment, I increasingly feel drawn to dancing outdoors. In nature, my senses are heightened – the vast horizon expands my vision, my skin feels the elements (wind, cold, sun, rain), and my ears detect sounds with greater clarity. Each improvisation in an open space offers a unique sensory experience.
- The skills I develop through dance improvisation and real-time composition extend into my daily life, enriching the way I interact with the world.
Improvised sketch
The short videos I create for each blog post are artistic interpretations of the topics I explore in my writing. This particular sketch is a compilation of several improvised pieces filmed in different environments. My focus was on “surrendering to the environment,” allowing it to shape my perception and inspire my movement response. I took a similar approach when making the video for my previous blog, but this time, I experimented more with editing and blending different moods to complement the music.
Quotations from publications:
Mark Tompkins, Meg Stuart: One Shot, Lóeil d’or mémoires&miroirs, 2022.
Rebecca Caines, Ajay Heble: The Improvisation Studies Reader – Spontaneous Act, Routledge, 2015.