The specifics of working at a research institute are such that the length of the working day is determined by the number of projects, and not by the number of hours specified in the contract. This means that work can easily take up all of your time. You can only finish it by force, which is what I do twice a week at 6 pm to go to TSEKH, because somehow, unbeknownst to me, dancing has become an important part of life. Last year I went to the beginner group twice a week, this year I added an intermediate class on the same day.

Why is dancing good for me? Firstly, I remember the physical delight when the body "learned" that it could move THIS way. This knowledge is revealed in a new way in every class. Secondly, for me, class is an opportunity to be "here and now" and completely disconnect from work, since I simply don’t have time to think about anything else.

It seems to me that the working habit of looking for the causes of observed phenomena helps me better understand the physics of dance. You could even say that science is solving puzzles, and dancing is the same puzzle, only your own body becomes the object. I often think back to what happened in class. In my case, understanding of many things comes not through the body, but through thinking. But that doesn’t mean that in my free time in the lab I don’t try out the dance moves from the lesson.

Would I like to become a professional dancer if I could start my life from scratch? More likely no than yes, since I don’t have the physical and creative abilities very suitable for this. It seems to me that in any profession you can achieve a good level with hard work, but in creativity innate abilities and talent play a big role.

Dima is an engineer working in an architectural bureau. Intelligent, advanced, calm and holistic, he has been taking my classes for two years now, he has a very smart body. A good example of how a person practices dancing who has not been trained in classical, yoga or other bodily disciplines: he incorporates the principles of modern dance into himself.

He and I came up with a story about subpersonalities at work. Five Dmitrys'. Each of them receives a message about the meeting and is directed to the meeting room in their own way. When the fifth one comes in, we understand that they are all himself, and there is no one else in the room except him. It seems to me that he knows how to do this very well (collect himself, find integrity and calmness), knows how to remain alone. For the video, we took a quote from Merce Cunningham: "I like to work in the ‘do it' mode." This is an interesting part of the creation process and involves clarifying things that were previously unknown." It was Cunningham who turned a lot to architecture in dance, to the geometry of the body and to random choices.

It’s not always easy for me to organize my time, but at TSEKH I study four times a week. Dance classes seem to have a special priority. They provide a lot of energy that can be put into work. My work is office work, always interesting, sometimes very hard. I like to turn what I don’t like into something I like: automate the routine.

I could only do art in my life, but for some reason I choose what I choose. In my next life I will probably become a professional dancer, and I will definitely take up choreography. Although, most likely, in my next life I will be some kind of animal — at best.

Has my attitude towards my place of work changed after the shoot? Maybe. On a subconscious level.

Denis has a strong interest and request for everything dance. There is a feeling that he has established views, but at the same time he is ready, overcoming himself in many ways, to let in some new and different things. The culture of working with the body, with movement, and the artistic form as such are extremely important for Denis.

At the time of filming, he had two jobs, one was regulated, corporate, the second was photography. He is interested in studying himself and others, and by studying others, he understands more about himself. I think that the profession of a photographer in this sense is not accidental and is only a stage along the way.

In the video we chose the concept of a nesting doll, a person invested in a person. Denis photographs a model, while the model is himself — it is not clear who is watching whom, who is the subject, who is the object. Games like this.

We took a quote from Philippe Decouflé: "It evolves daily, it is alive. Because everything changes, you are always moving. Nothing lasts forever and that’s inspiring." Decouflé is a choreographer who works with circus, dance, and visual aesthetics. At one time, he greatly promoted film dance. It seemed interesting to me to make Denis friends with such a mastodon.

We started working on the video in May, quite a lot of time has passed since then, and photography has moved from being a source of income to becoming a favorite hobby, in addition to dancing, motorcycle, djembe drum and tea. I now work as a body-oriented psychologist-thanatotherapist and at the same time I am studying to become a psychotherapist at the international program on bioenergetic analysis of A. Lowen (IIBA International Institute for Bioenergetic Analysis).

My path to dance was not easy: as a teenager I hated everything connected with it. I thought that all dancing men were at least of non-traditional sexual orientation. I myself wore long patties, walked in leather, in huge boots that weighed two kilos each, and believed that there was only heavy metal in the world, and everything you could dance to was just a misunderstanding. But the dance broke through in me, and this happened under the influence of "substances" and alcohol; when I would forget myself and just move to the music. Later denying this fact and experiencing a deep sense of discomfort and self-contempt. At the age of 27, a turning point occurred: I broke up with someone important to me, went to a psychotherapist for the first time and took the risk of going to a dance (it was a hustle). Gradually, over the years, I began to understand why I hated dance: because I loved it too much. The desire to dance and the denial of the desire degenerated into aggression towards dance music, dance culture, towards dancers and towards oneself. Having achieved some success in hustle, I became disillusioned with it and decided to go to the basics, to classical ballet — barre, batmen, plies, etc. Along with ballet, the dance school also taught solo dances, in particular modern jazz. I went once and fell in love. As much as a person who has walked in shackles all his life can love freedom of movement. A logical continuation was the transition to contemporary dance, where there is no dependence on a partner, spectator, or conventions, but there is only me and my self-expression in dance. It was in contemporary dance that I managed to find my teacher, like-minded people, and a place where I can come twice a week, like visiting a good friend.

My activities and future profession are closely related to the body as a concentration of bodily pressures and muscular armor, a container of feelings, complexes and fears. I work with people who have either lost or broken contact with their own body. For me, as a specialist, contact with my body is important, and dance helps me with this. It would also be foolish to deny that a few hours of dance a week has a great effect on physical fitness.

Now I no longer need courage to say: "I love to dance!" - and not because I have become wiser. There is no more fear itself, but where fear goes, love comes.

I’ve known Yulia for a long time, she took part in my laboratories, and wherever there is some kind of movement, 99% of the time Yulia is there. And at the same time, she has a job where you have to be correct, where there are regulations and corporate laws. On the one hand, she has an analytical mind (this is close to me, my first education was in mathematics and economics), on the other hand, she is absolutely artistically insane in a good way. In a surprising way, it gets along with her. Therefore, in the video we decided that she would stand on her head — in the office, among the monitors, in each of which she dances a fragment from the projects.

I suggested that she do such an upside down, she didn’t know how, she trained, sent me a video of how she couldn’t do it — that is, the person set himself the task of learning to stand on his head and solved it. Artistically, she was ready for all these things. So her analytical mind, computers and office were made friends with absolute fearlessness.

Yulia feels uncomfortable when she is always in her comfort zone. She takes it and jumps into a new situation. For the video with her, we borrowed a quote from Pina Bausch about a small fish that quickly moves up and down. Bausch — at one time she practically kicked down the door in the theater, they did not understand her and sent her for a long time, but in the end she bent everyone over. It seems to me that Yulia has exactly this energy.

I usually dance 4 or 5 nights a week. If I don’t dance for 2−3 days in a row, withdrawal, hibernation and depression begin, it seems that I’m getting fat and have forgotten how to dance. For the sake of dancing, I cut down on my daily routine and sleep. I simply don’t have time to sleep much: I come home late and leave early. I hate everyday life since childhood, rags, mops, dishes… it’s all terrible. I realized that heaven on earth is when another person does the cleaning for you, even for money. I am very grateful to my husband for putting up with me for who I am.

Dance classes not only help in work, but improve life in general. When I dance regularly, I think better, look better, feel better, have better sex, get sick less, drive better. Dance helps you stay afloat even under very tough pressure and fatigue.

I have an IT project work, projects usually last a year or two. It is difficult to maintain a high level of attention throughout the day, and I often only have it for 10−11 hours. And when I, with the attention I’ve eaten up for the day, come to Sasha Andriashkin’s class, and he says "Yulia, hello" (that's what he says when someone in class withdraws into himself), I get a second wind.

Zhenya is open-minded, interested in bodily practices and generally travels a lot. When you teach at school, you are an object. Your body and your psyche are subject to regulations and tasks; you are in many ways a performer. We talked with Evgeniy, and I realized that it is important for him throughout his professional career not to lose moments of subjective realization. In the video we played on this moment: the teacher is like the hero of a computer game, he reproduces patterns worked out to perfection, where he is an object, a teacher, a skilled know-it-all. But then he suddenly stops and tries to express himself outside of this context. Here we have a quote from Steve Paxton where he suggests doing something outside the pattern. "There are a lot of things I’ve trained myself not to do. I think it was a dance." It seems to me that Paxton began to solve the issues that Zhenya is now solving within himself in dance.

For me, dancing is an opportunity to express myself and learn something new physically. Possibility of bodily experience. This is not about fitness per se, although load and intensity are important. With regular exercise I feel more fit.

Are dance classes directly related to my work? Certainly. For me, as a teacher, the ability to see the audience and manage attention is natural. These characteristics are also present in dancing. To some extent, I apply the physical, what I took from dance classes, to my professional sphere: I move around the class a lot, actively use gestures, turn on music. At the same time, I clearly understand that my lessons are not aimed at entertainment. This is not about dancing choreography at the board, but rather about some kind of scenography, about how I move or work with attention.

Dance for me is also a way of self-discovery. When I teach a lesson, I push aside my feelings and desires. It is important for me to focus on the student. To some extent, I forget about my interests. When I get to dance classes, I can feel my state, begin to explore my mood and, what is important, I can express myself, including on the physical level. I believe that this is a great help in life, partly dance and movement therapy.

In the programs offered by TSEKH, a lot of attention is paid to the principles of dance, and not solely to form. The entry threshold is not as high as in ballet schools. It’s unlikely that I’ll do the splits anytime soon, but that’s not a reason not to dance, is it? At the same time, physical requirements still remain a serious obstacle, which develops into a psychological one. Sometimes I feel like the most unprepared in the group, which causes disappointment and anger.

In my classes, the personality of a teacher who you trust, who doesn’t irritate you, and who has the right level of intensity is extremely important to me. I am a fairly demanding listener, as I am a teacher myself. Actually, that’s why I’ve been going to Sasha Andriashkin for several years. When I don’t make it by 7:00 p.m., I come to an evening class and dance until 11:00 p.m.