At Azara Ballet, dancers are not expected to make eye contact with directors and choreographers. If the band members need an impromptu break from the harsh stage lights during rehearsal, they get one. They also receive clear instructions on hair and make-up well in advance of performances.
Priority at Azara is the health of the dancers. Founded in 2022 by dancers Kate Flowers and Martin Roosaare, who are both autistic (and a married couple), the company, based in Sarasota and Bradenton, Florida, is a haven for neurodeviant performers. (The company consists of 10 dancers, not all of whom are neurodeviant.)
“When I’m dancing,” Flowers said, “as long as it’s in a good environment and a safe space, expressing myself through non-verbal movement is something that helps me a lot.”
Azara addresses a void in the dance world: the need for spaces where people with autism, ADHD or other conditions that fall under the broad term “neurodevian” can freely experience the art form. Evidence, both anecdotal and empirical, suggests that there is a profound connection between dance and these neurological conditions. This relationship has become an area of increased focus for researchers, artists, and performing arts organizations in recent years.
In November, Azara gathered for a screening of her show “Voices of Azara” at the black box theater where the show would soon take place. The atmosphere in the theater felt both active—the dancers warmed up, revised steps, chatted—and calm: There was subdued lighting, pleasantly cool air and, among the performers, a seemingly innate awareness of their voice volume.
To begin the rehearsal, Roosaare gave the dancers a rundown of the program for the next three hours. They then went through the four pieces – all by members of the company – before taking notes. As the dancers performed, the music was never overwhelmingly loud and they never shouted corrections.
Mostly, though, the rehearsal didn’t seem much different from that of any small dance group. But what makes “a world of difference,” said dancer Rebecca Kimsey, who is autistic, is the level of humanity and attention in the studio.
“Martin and Kate have been very accommodating and also very understanding of anything that comes up,” she said, “like if I have a day where I wake up with a migraine from overstimulation.”
He added: “If we’re in rehearsal and things are moving really fast, they still don’t shout corrections, which can worry or scare people if they’re focused.”
Flowers said she has always felt drawn to dance. “Especially with autism, it’s really helpful to have structure,” she said. “Dance really provides that. It makes sense why I was drawn to dance and why I was always drawn to it.”
Research validates these experiences. The findings suggest that dance may be uniquely suited to supplementing the strengths that come with being autistic or having certain neurological conditions, while mitigating some of the difficulties.
Dr. Jessica Eccles, a researcher at Brighton and Sussex Medical School in England, studies how certain conditions overlap with hypermobility (greater than typical range of motion) and creativity. “Attention to detail, memory, passions, thinking outside the box – these are all probably useful elements for dancers,” Eccles said. “A large percentage of dancers may well be neurodeviant, but it may not be recognized. they may not have diagnoses.”
Julia Basso, director of Virginia Tech’s Embedded Brain Lab, has further demonstrated the link between dance and neurodegeneracy by measuring brain waves. Among a group of musical theater artists, most with autism, dance and performance art appeared to increase intra-brain synchrony—that is, the neural connections within a performer’s brain—as well as intra-brain synchrony, or the connections made between multiple people. This suggests that dance can play an important role in things like social connection and stress reduction, Basso said, which are common challenges.
Roosaare and Flowers observed the positive effects of dance on a group of autistic preschoolers enrolled in Azara’s Atypical Dance Initiative. Students usually have a hard time focusing in school during the day, Roosaare said, “but when it comes to dance, they’re always paying attention and engaged.”
While Azara takes a dancer-first approach to inclusion, most companies focus primarily on the audience. New York City Ballet, for example, recently hosted a sensory-friendly performance of “The Nutcracker” and has another sensory-friendly event (a Balanchine triple bill) planned for May. Other companies have also implemented this practice, largely as part of The Nutcracker time.
“The audience felt welcome, they felt supported, they didn’t feel judged,” Meghan Gentile, City Ballet’s associate director of education, said of a sensory-friendly performance last spring. “There are more conversations about how to make all of our shows a little more accessible. There’s this new lens put on our work.”
At Azara all performances are conceived with neurodiversity in mind. A similar approach is being taken by the Lumberyard Center for Film and the Performing Arts, in New York, with Seats on the Spectrum, an accessibility program designed for easy implementation in movie theaters. The pilot, which debuted in October, is available at New Victory Theatre, HERE Arts Center and Roundabout Theater Company.
Adrienne Willis, executive and artistic director of the Lumberyard, said that “while separate shows and separate festivals are fantastic and reach so many people, it doesn’t reach a sufficient number of the population.” He added that Lumberyard is interested in making accessibility “more financially viable for theaters.”
At many of these events, audience members are offered sensory kits — riot toys, earplugs, noise-cancelling headphones — and a visual and text-based description of what to expect from their time in the theater. There are often designated, less crowded seating areas for neurodeviant viewers and, during the show, the house lights are never fully dimmed, the lighting and sound effects are dimmed, and patrons are welcome to come and go as needed.
These may seem like big changes. But dancer Azara Kimsey said that when some of her friends watch these shows, “They say to me, ‘I just notice a difference. I didn’t know it was a sensory-friendly day.”
However, he added: “For those who need these changes, it is a lifeline. It connects you to something you wouldn’t otherwise be able to witness.”
The next generation of dance artists are developing the tools to examine neurodivergence as well. At the Glorya Kaufman School of Dance at the University of Southern California, Patrick Corbin, associate professor of dance practice, joined forces with a neuroscientist and occupational therapist, as well as neurodifference theater performers, to establish a course called Dance and Neurodiversity/Autism .
By combining science, movement and community involvement, Corbin hopes students will learn how dance affects the brain and also better understand these conditions as a whole.
“We’re developing dance-based strategies, using all of these things, to see how we can learn more about walking in someone else’s shoes,” Corbin said. “Instead of trying to drag people with autism into our world, maybe if we went into their world, we could find a bridge of connection.”
As Azara rehearses, it’s clear that connection is a goal. Each dance piece has a clear meaning or story, and the movements chosen by the choreographers are neither so opaque as to be understood, nor so literal as to feel bewildering. The dancers move with confidence, with a sense of abandon and flow. they are in their element.
“For me, choreography helps with expression,” Roosaare said, “being able to portray certain feelings and emotions and ideas that are usually a little harder to convey to people.”
“I feel like there are a lot of undiagnosed autistic people in the dance world who have found it as a means of expression.”
